I was making so much money for Mara Salvatrucha that I began to attract the attention of the group's top leaders. But rather than feel gratitude for my contributions, they felt nervousness. They feared that I would usurp their positions and take over the gang. Given my natural charisma, their fears were understandable. But I was a team player. Unfortunately, Juan Carlos Galvez didn't realize this. He flew in from El Salvador and told me he wanted to meet with me. He said he had big plans for me -- the biggest rawhide heist ever. It was 3 a.m. when I wandered into that industrial park in West Dallas. I didn't even see it coming. The next thing I knew, I was lying on a table at the veterinary hospital, the victim of a gangland ambush. Galvez had betrayed me, set me up. I was rushed into surgery to repair my broken knee; I still wear the scar as a reminder. After surgery, I was in for months of rehab. Even worse, I had to wear that damn cone on my head.
To be continued