by Domino Finn
"How do you know?"
"I could always tell when you were about to get into a heap of trouble."
I laughed. "Yeah. I suppose this is kind of familiar."
She looked me in the eyes. "Trouble?"
"No. Well, yeah. But this. Me and you. I always enjoyed the quiet moments before I went off to work. I don't know why. Maybe I knew I might never come back." I frowned. "I guess—last time—I didn't."
She shoved me playfully. "You did."
I shook my head. "Too late." After a moment, I tackled an even more difficult subject. "You think I can meet my daughter one of these days?"
Emily pressed her lips together and measured her reply. "Give it time, Cisco. She needs to be safe. Secure. We need to work everything out before we expose her to it, don't you think?"
I stared at my boots and nodded glumly.
"It would be a start to stop threatening my husband. You think you can avoid that for another week or two?"
"I already said what I had to say."
"I would try to convince you what a good guy he is," she said, "but you already know."
I nodded, hands in pockets. I took a hesitant step to my car, not wanting the moment to end. "Hey, you didn't tell me you were friends with Kita Mariko."
"I didn't know you knew her. It's not like we've spoken all that much lately. Besides, it's more of a connection through my father."
"Henry Hoover," I murmured, remembering the stories we used to imagine about him. "International man of mystery." The truth is the man had traveled a lot searching for investment opportunities in third world countries. That was how Emily became so worldly. Australian, having lived in every continent by the time she was twenty-one—it was a life many dreamed about. But that was in our youth.
"You want my advice, Cisco?" she asked gingerly.
My gaze traced up her slender neck, her high cheekbones, and stuck to her pale-blue eyes like glue.
"You have a second chance at life," she continued. "Maybe a different life than the one you wanted. After everything that's happened to you, maybe you can never fully be at peace. But you can enjoy living again. You can make more good moments."
My face flushed to hear her kindness. My body burned. "With you?" I asked.
She swallowed. "Cisco... that's behind us..."
I snatched the compass from her hand and put it away. My jaw clenched a few times as I mulled over the hurt. "For you maybe."
"I know." She gently brushed my cheek.
"When you said I teased you about being an idealist, you were wrong, you know. Being an idealist was why I loved you."
She didn't say anything. I fought the urge to kiss her. To take back what she so clearly insisted was out of reach. I fought the demarcation between right and wrong. Thoughts of betrayal and romance and commitment swam through the depths of my mind.
I wanted to step away but I couldn't.
"Honey." Evan's voice came from the porch like a cold shower. "Let's go inside and have dinner."
Emily immediately backed away and returned to the house. I wanted to say something, but didn't. Instead, I got a long look at my best friend holding a wine glass, about to have a wonderful evening with the love of my life.
I jumped in the truck and peeled away, dialing Milena.
"Howdy, stranger," came her voice.
My pickup roared toward I-95. "You still up for that date?"
Chapter 21
Man, it felt good to be out. Cisco Suarez may be homeless, but he's no loser.
The Miami nightlife starts late, so I had plenty of time to lock the Horn back in the lead safe (for whatever good that did). I left my haunted pickup outside Milena's house, and we took her tiny car to the beach.
So here we were, a patio lounge on Ocean Drive. Two bars and a pool. Just me and Milena. And a couple hundred other people.
It's funny. I remember I used to be uneasy in social situations. Not weird, but nervous. Now it all seemed like a piece of cake. I mean, I'm not debonair. I won't be starring in Casablanca anytime soon, but next to being gutted by a sociopathic vampire on steroids, this was nothing.
At the same time, my new perspective distanced me from the whole dating scene. Instilled it with a certain triviality. Did these drinks, the banter, and the flirtatious glances matter?
But they did feel good. Maybe that's what mattered. The drinking. Laughing. Smiling. I even did some of those things myself.
"So you seriously saw her?" asked Milena, leaning closer to me as I sat on the barstool. "In person?"
A lot of people don't believe in magic, but you'd be surprised how many believe in ghosts.
"Near enough," I answered, averting my eyes from her enhanced cleavage.
Milena was a stripper (and had the perfect Miami body for it). A little on the short side but shaped like an hourglass. Thick hips and a boob job to balance it out, tanned skin that showed no hint of underwear lines, and the kind of sweet face you'd have no problem taking home to mommy. I did love Emily, even if she was off limits now, but Milena was pure, unbridled sex appeal.
No, she hadn't looked at all like this ten years ago. But she'd had a tough go of things. She'd upgraded, figured out how to make her life work, and made no bones about it. It was just hard not to be distracted by her black strapless getup, even when we were talking about my sister.
"That's so cool," said Milena. "Seleste always said you had a gift. She never hated what you did."
I nodded. I could've pointed out that it was me that got her killed in the first place, but I was trying to keep the mood light. I mean, I'm not an idiot. I was having a drink in South Beach with a beautiful woman. Feeling sorry for myself was gonna happen regardless—I didn't need to advertise it.
Milena leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. It was sweet, and I realized we were probably the only two people in the world who still thought so much about Seleste.
"Oh no, bitch," came a high-pitched voice behind me. "You're not cheating on me, are you?"
I turned and saw a porn star. Literally. (Almost, kinda.) A tall redhead wearing a blouse exposing her rock-hard midriff sauntered up to us. Milena hopped up and down like a little girl on Christmas Day, and the two women hugged and kissed each other. When I went to kiss her cheek in greeting, she twisted her head and pressed her lips to mine.
Real friendly, this one. Except friendly pecks weren't supposed to include tongue. She had me backed up against the bar.
"Stop that!" screamed Milena, laughing and shoving her friend away. "You're gonna scare him."
I raised my eyebrow. "I don't think 'scare' is the right word."
The friend smiled but Milena shook her head. "She just does that to screw with the boys."
"That's not true," said the redhead. "I do this to screw with them." Without checking to see who was looking, she slid her top to her neck and flashed her boobs. The shirt came back down nonchalantly and Milena rolled her eyes.
"Whoa," I said. "It's nice to meet the girls, but I don't even know your name yet."
"Brenda," cut in Milena in a sour tone. "She likes to make big first impressions."
"Big is a good word."
"Impressed?" asked Brenda.
I nodded. It was obvious Brenda took her image seriously. She was well-toned, all fashionable clothes and fake eyelashes. Fun in a frivolous sort of way, but it was strange seeing Milena with a friend like that. Perks of her job, I figured.
Brenda leaned in and ran her fingers up my arms. "You're not so bad yourself. You must be Cisco." She turned to her friend. "Every bit as cute as you said he is."
Milena chuckled nervously, which was odd for her. I laughed to keep things fun. And Brenda went to get a round of shots. Of course that's what she did.
"Wow," I said when we were alone.
Milena shrugged.
"Let me guess. Coworker?"
She nodded. Then I suddenly straightened up.
"You invited a friend to a date?"
"It's not that kind of dat
e," she answered. "Why? Disappointed?"
"I dunno. Kinda relieved, in a way. Seeing her boobs makes me think less of yours."
She laughed. "I don't know if that's a compliment or an insult."
"Compliment. You know you're pretty, Milena. It's just there's so much going on right now. With my life. And then this... Noise and activity. Friends. Breasts everywhere. I just feel a little outclassed here."
Milena snorted. "Fat kid complex."
"What?"
"You have classic fat kid complex. Except you were never fat, just a skinny scrapper. Always cute but not very outgoing, you know? But now you've got big muscles. You're much more than cute. You'd make a great underwear model yourself, Cisco."
I imagined underwear with pentagrams and skulls. The public wasn't ready for me yet. "You guys have any job openings at Think Pink?"
She slapped my shoulder. "Stop teasing. I'm dropping knowledge on you. Remember, I used to be a little heavy too. It's a disconnect between your body and your mind. You just need to catch up. Confidence is empowering."
Brenda slid between us holding three overfull rocks glasses of lemon drops. "Free shots!" she announced.
I took my glass. "What'd you do, flash the bartender?"
"Not today," she said, winking at me. "But guys always remember their first time." She upended the glass, and Milena and I didn't want to be left out.
We bullshitted. Passed around more shots. Switched to beer as we watched the crowd. Shifting, dancing, transforming. About what you'd expect from a night in South Beach. I don't usually drink more than a few, but when in Rome, I guess. After Brenda went off to flirt with a guy, the conversation dried up, and I found myself staring at a nearly empty bottle of Corona.
"This is fun," mentioned Milena after a long sigh. "Don't you think?"
"It's not bad."
"This is why you need to let loose sometimes, Cisco. Let go of all the stress. Relax and see what you still have."
"So I've been told," I said, but I was still thinking about the past. No. Not just the past. "It's tough, you know? I tell myself the best thing I can do for everyone is isolate myself. Be alone to avoid hurting anyone else."
"But that's not normal. You can't stay away forever. You can't be sleeping on the streets, or the Everglades, or wherever."
"I'm not normal."
"That's because you sleep on the streets."
I chuckled. I thought about Emily and my daughter and the hottie right in front of me. "Who'd want to be mixed up with my trouble?"
She rested her hand on mine. "Some of us already are. I saw that ghost too, remember? And I won't lie. It was scary. It still is. Bad things can happen to any of us at any time. But it is what it is."
I snorted. "It is what it is" didn't sound like good reasoning to me. When the Spaniard had appeared, my heart stopped. My first reaction had been full protection mode, even if it wasn't necessary. I wondered which of us was more worried about her welfare.
I dug into my belt pouch and handed her the darkfinder. "Here you go. It's not a normal compass. It will warn you of imminent danger. I used to give it to Emily a lot—"
I cut myself off. I didn't want to mention my ex. I didn't want to keep thinking about her.
I cleared my throat and killed my beer, signaling the bartender for another. "I mean, if you ever feel scared, for any reason at all, you can look at this compass. See that you're safe. Okay?"
She placed it in her palm and studied it. She appreciated the gesture, but her thoughts were elsewhere too. "How is she?"
I chewed my lip and waited until I had my next beer in hand. "You know, sleeping with my best friend. Hiding me from my daughter."
"That's not what I mean."
I nodded and took a swig. "I know. I don't know. Emily's... nice. She's taking all this about as good as she could, considering. Maybe I'm pushing things..."
"No way, Cisco," she said. "You're not trying to rekindle the relationship?"
I shrugged. "I didn't say that. I mean, there's chemistry there. I can feel it. And I get that my feelings are off because a huge chunk of my life is suddenly gone. It's when I think about her, what she's been through, that the mindfuck begins."
I spun around on the stool to face the bar and took another sip. "We loved each other. And I disappeared. She was lost. She was pregnant. Scared. And after years she found solace with Evan. Maybe I'm an asshole for blaming them, but I always thought that, you know, I'd be the one married to her, living in that house with those kids. Emily and I had good times that are forever irreplaceable."
Milena behaved far more patiently than I had a right to ask. Not only was she giving me her full attention, but she seemed sincere. "That's good, Cisco. Focus on the good things. The good times." She put her hand on my shoulder, and I ran my eyes over the crowd on the patio. Most people were having the times of their lives. Even Brenda appeared especially smitten with her new boy toy.
"Some things with Emily and I were storybook," I said. "When we first met, I was just slacking in class at Miami-Dade when she walked in late. The professor didn't want to let her in. She wasn't on the old roll sheet. And something struck me about this elegant, Australian beauty. We locked eyes, and I stood up for her."
"What did you say?"
"I forget. But I literally stood up and told the professor off."
"Classic Cisco. Go big or go home." Milena smiled. "Did he let her in?"
"Hell no. He kicked me out right alongside her. He was a dick."
She erupted in laughter. "Let me guess. You both left campus and found a quiet spot to smoke a joint together."
"Close enough."
She waited till my smile waned. "You're right, Cisco. That is a good memory. Isn't it better to focus on those than the bad ones?"
I didn't answer but she was dead on. At least for the moment, there was a spark of happiness that hadn't been there before.
"Come on," she said, nudging my shoulder. "Tell me another."
"Not a chance," I said firmly. "I'm done talking to you about Emily. I should be sent to the madhouse for getting into it so much."
"Please! This is fun."
I rubbed my chin as a stall tactic. "How about this? You wanted to know more about what I've been up to? Well, take this on for size. Random ghosts have been chasing me around town."
Her eyes widened. "Get out."
"No seriously. Poltergeists. My pickup's haunted by one right now. That's why I didn't want to drive."
She giggled. "Bad country song."
"You don't know the half of it."
Brenda suddenly inserted herself between us to say goodbye. That was how she did things. Into the spotlight, then out. She didn't fawn over Milena this time, but she did lean in to kiss my cheek. Then she whispered in my ear.
"I haven't seen her relax like this before. Thanks for making her feel safe again." Then I was pretty sure she licked my ear. The guy who followed her onto the street didn't seem to mind.
Milena and I stared at each other for a second, then burst into laughter.
"You have weird friends," I keenly observed.
"Not that many," said Milena. "Brenda's all show. She's a party girl, but she wouldn't hurt a fly. I like that about her."
A smirk played across my face. "What's not to like?"
It could've been the alcohol or the beach humidity, but a warm feeling washed over me. I was content. And I realized it was because of what Brenda had said.
Screw the stun-gun security blanket. Milena felt safe because of me.
A part of me knew that was all that mattered.
That part disappeared when a piercing scream cut through the festivities.
Chapter 22
It was a girl's scream. Barely old enough to drink.
A bustle of commotion spread across the patio bar. Some shouts, some banging, and a guy went flying into the pool.
I stepped off the barstool.
More screams, and two girls fell in the pool as well. A metal g
arbage can splashed in beside them. A mass of people hurried away from the area in a wave. And then, with a fizzle, people went back to their business. Keep walking. Nothing to see here.
"What happened?" asked Milena.
"I don't know," I answered, squinting over the crowd. "A fight maybe. A few people and a garbage can were thrown in the pool."
I asked the bartender for the tab and watched security rudely manhandle the customers from the water. The pool is off-limits at night; several partiers get thrown out daily for testing the waters.
The faces of the violators were more confused than angry, though. And the rest of the crowd was talking and shrugging, looking around as if their neighbor had more answers. Nobody seemed to have seen the participants firsthand. I certainly didn't spot anyone who looked to be an aggressor.
"We should get out of here." I set my empty bottle on a pile of cash with the bill. Keeping an eye on our six, I wrapped my arm around Milena's waist and pulled her onto the sidewalk and down the street.
"Why are you so jumpy, Cisco?"
"Just cautious. In my line of work, it's prudent."
She leaned her head on my shoulder and clasped her hands around me as we walked. With the nightlife buzzing on our left and the beachfront across the street, this suddenly felt like a real date.
"Evan didn't send the police after you again, did he?"
I cocked my head. "I can't be sure. I did break into City Hall."
She stopped and pulled away for a second. "That was you! Dios mío, Cisco." She reattached to me and continued the stroll. "You're moving up in the world. First it was gangbangers. Now it's politicians."
I snickered at the frivolity of it all. "I'm not so sure I'm moving anywhere." I took in the breeze and the muffled music as we traversed the strip. "Sometimes I feel like I'm just chasing greedy bureaucrats. There's no complicated master plan. I was just a street-level puppet in a government con." I frowned. "I'm not even sure Rudi Alvarez knows who I am."
"You'd better hope not. He has a lot of support in this city. Miami cops don't play."
I knew that much myself. A showdown seemed inevitable if I kept down this path. Not just with Evan, but with innocent officers doing their jobs. The only solution was to set everything right before I got caught.
