Blocked

by Jennifer Lane

  The crease returned to his forehead. “Yeah. Yeah…sure.” He turned his back and grabbed an oven mitt to take out the tortillas.

  As I skittered toward the agents’ bedrooms, my heart felt heavy. I knew I’d let him down. Why couldn’t I just say what I wanted to him? What do I want? Why was it always so complicated?

  Three of four bedrooms were empty, but I heard a rustling behind China’s slightly open door. I pushed it open. “Hey, Dane cooked fajitas if you want—”

  China’s head appeared from under the covers, and I blanched when I noticed she was topless.

  “Sorry!”

  Then a movement beneath the duvet rolled toward the headboard. I saw a flash of blond curls a second before Allison’s face emerged next to China’s.

  “Oh!” I stepped back. Allison’s eyes might have been even wider than mine. “I…” Mierda. I closed my mouth, and swallowed. “I just…” I spun on my heel, determined to get the hell out of there.

  “Wait!” Allison’s voice was higher than normal. “Will you tell your father about this?”

  “What?” I inched back another step and felt my heart squeeze in my chest. Why would she care about that?

  “Of course she won’t,” China said as she tossed the covers down and pushed off the bed to stand nude in front of me, in all of her muscular glory. Her breasts were round and perky, surrounded by pectoral muscle. She didn’t seem embarrassed at all, but I was literally dying. “We aren’t on duty.”

  Allison shook her head as she pulled the duvet up under her chin. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

  I pursed my lips, trying to figure out that comment.

  “Ohhh.” China grinned, then kneeled on the mattress and climbed up the bed. “Governor Ramirez might not approve of same-sex sex.”

  I looked away from her butt dancing in the air but the sound of a wet kiss was unmistakable. And that was my cue to leave. I rushed out of the room and raced down the hall—I couldn’t get to my bedroom fast enough.

  ¡Dios mio! I plunged back on my bed and pressed my hands against my skull. I’d never walked in on a man and woman having sex before, much less two women. Why hadn’t I just knocked? I thumped my fist to my forehead several times. Estúpida.

  “Lucia?” Dane knocked on my door.

  I sat up. “What?”

  “Where’d you go? The food’s getting cold.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t let him find out I’d walked in on China and Allison. Way too embarrassing.

  After a few moments passed, he asked, “Can I come in?”

  I tossed my hair over my shoulder and stood. Crap. “Uh, sure.” I grabbed the knob and found him filling the doorway.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “Do Allison and China want to join us?”

  “Um…” I looked away as my cheeks lit on fire.

  “Listen, if you don’t want to eat dinner with me—”

  “No, I do! I really do. I just, ah, I just need a moment…”

  I watched a fully dressed Allison come up behind Dane. “Lucia?”

  Dane swiveled. “Oh, hey. Are you guys going to eat with us? Did Lucia come find you?”

  I sure did find them. Mortifying!

  “Are we cool?” Allison asked me.

  What should I say to that? I tilted my head.

  Dane looked back and forth between us. “What’s going on?”

  “Lucia, I need to know if I should start looking for another job.”

  My chest tightened, and my mind went blank. Why did she keep hounding me? How could she think my dad would be so cruel? I just needed everyone to leave me alone!

  “What the fuck happened?” Dane asked, his hands perched on his hips.

  “Lucia walked in on us,” China explained. She came up behind Allison, thankfully dressed in a robe. “And evidently it was a surprise for her.”

  I cringed. Now he knew.

  As an understanding dawned on Dane, a smile stretched his mouth, followed by a few chuckles. “You walked in on them having sex?”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, which only elicited more laughter from the cabrón. Deep belly laughs filled the hallway. “I wish I could’ve seen the look on your face!” He slapped the wall. “Hell, I wish I would’ve been the one to walk in on them.”

  “You’re an ass, Monroe,” China said.

  “You’ve never seen lesbians get it on?” he asked me.

  I hadn’t seen anyone ‘get it on,’ but I wasn’t about to admit that.

  “Lucia.” Allison blinked at me. “Are you going to tell your father?”

  “No, okay?” My voice came out louder than I’d intended. “I don’t know why you keep asking me that—I won’t tell him. It wouldn’t matter anyway.”

  China exhaled loudly. “I guess I have to spell it out for you. Allison needs to know if your dad will get her fired once he finds out she’s a lesbian.”

  My lips parted. “He wouldn’t do that! He knows I like Allison.”

  “He’s hardly the champion of gay rights,” China replied.

  I hesitated. Our church had taught us that being gay was sinful, but I knew Dad would never get Allison fired just for that.

  “What do you think, Lucia?” Allison’s worried eyes bored into me. “Do you support gay marriage?”

  “I…” My heart hammered. I’d always agreed with my family that marriage should be between a man and a woman, but it felt wrong to say that in front of them. Allison had been good to me, and I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

  “Are you homophobic like your father?” China demanded.

  I glanced at Dane, who’d been surprisingly quiet through this interrogation. I didn’t know why he hadn’t jumped on the bandwagon to accuse me of prejudice as well.

  He reached out and patted my shoulder with his warm hand. “You look kind of freaked out.”

  I nodded.

  He turned to the agents. “Guys, give her a second. She’s overwhelmed. Let me talk to her.”

  The next thing I knew, Dane had pushed me into my bedroom and closed the door behind him.

  Chapter 20

  I GUIDED LUCIA TO HER BED and waited for her to sit before plopping down on the desk chair across from her. “Do you want to take a few deep breaths?”

  She nodded, and I gave her some time to collect herself as she perched on her light yellow comforter. She’d made her bed—something I rarely did. In fact, her entire room was neater than mine. A faint scent of lavender, with maybe a twinge of lemon, floated in the air.

  “So that’s not something you see every day, huh?”

  She looked up at me, and her eyes crinkled as she gave me a grateful smile. “Definitely not.”

  Allison was probably pacing her room, worried about unemployment, and my jaw clenched thinking about the unfairness of it all. But I’d seen enough of Lucia to know she wouldn’t intentionally hurt another person, and yelling at her wouldn’t solve anything anyway. I tried to figure out a way to talk about gay rights without initiating a shouting match.

  “Before Allison, have you ever known anyone who’s gay?”

  She twisted her hands together. “I don’t think so.”

  I shook my head. “How is that possible? Ten percent of the population is gay!”

  She scooted back on the bed, away from me, and I blew out a breath. Chill, amigo. “No gay or bisexual teammates? High school classmates?”

  “I…I think there were a few students at my school who were maybe gay—I was too busy with my club team to get to know them.”

  “But they weren’t out?” I couldn’t imagine that. It had seemed de rigueur to be gay or bi at my private school.

  She swallowed.

  Then it hit me. “Your school was Catholic.”

  “Yes.”

  “So it probably wasn’t cool to be out.” Judgmental jerks. I sat on my hands. “And how does, um, your religion…how does that influence your beliefs?”

 
Her lips pressed into a taut line. “Why do you want to know? So you can tell me how stupid I am?”

  “No! I’m really trying here, Lucia. I’m trying to discuss this calmly.”

  “Why?” Her eyes seemed weary, weighed down by suspicion and hurt.

  Okay, I deserved that. I deserved her mistrust after how I’d treated her at first. And she deserved an explanation for my attempted suppression of the jerk who got off on riling her up—for me trying not to act like Mr. Arrogant Asshat the Third. “Liberalism is about being open-minded—”

  “Right,” she scoffed.

  “—but I know I haven’t been open-minded when it comes to your beliefs.”

  She looked away as she folded her arms across her chest.

  “I want to do better. I want to understand why you think the way you do, because…” When her gaze returned to me, my throat tightened. Don’t fuck this up. “Because I felt like shit when I was mean to you. I swear I don’t intend to be such an asshole, but I got so mad about your dad’s positions that I ended up making assumptions and spewing all over you, and you don’t deserve that. Not at all.”

  She stared at me for a few moments. “I guess I haven’t been very nice to you, either.”

  That comment puzzled me—she was one of the sweetest people I’d met—but it also encouraged me to keep going. “You’ve hardly been as aggressive as me, just a little quiet from time to time.” I looked at her pointedly, trying to raise a smile.

  She rubbed her hands over her arms.

  “Are you cold? Want me to get your sweatshirt from the kitchen?”

  “That’s okay.” She grimaced, then blew out a breath, seeming to brace herself. “To answer your question, my church says marriage should be between a man and a woman. It’s from the Bible.”

  I gritted my teeth. “Okay, but not everyone believes in the Bible.”

  “I get that. But being a Catholic means I don’t get to pick and choose what to follow. I have to follow the scripture.”

  “But that’s exactly my point!” I realized my voice had risen, and I struggled to tamp down my intensity. “The Bible also says women should cover their heads, right?” I gestured to her lush hair. “Yet here you are without your hoodie, woman.” I smirked. “A hoodie-less heathen.”

  I’d meant to lighten the mood, but the look in her eyes was far from jovial. “So my faith is some joke to you?”

  “Nooo.” I groaned in frustration as my palms scoured my cheeks.

  “Do you believe in God, Dane?”

  I paused. “Maybe.” When her eyes widened, I rushed to add, “I definitely believe in a higher power. I just don’t know what form that power takes. I’m still figuring it out.”

  “But your mother said your family goes to church every Sunday.”

  My mother said a lot of things, just like Lucia’s father surely did, to garner votes. “We did, as kids. I guess it never took. Anyway, my psych professor said it’s healthy to question at our age.”

  “But how do you sleep at night, if you don’t believe in God?”

  “How do you sleep at night, thinking your religion is right and everyone else is wrong?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying.” She sighed. “That came out too judgey, lo siento. What I’m really asking is how you feel any peace if you don’t have faith. My faith is everything to me, and I don’t know how to survive without it.”

  She seemed so sure of herself and her so-called faith that for a moment I wished I could have that surety as well. I jiggled my foot. “How are you so certain God exists?”

  She drew back. “I…I’ve never thought about it before…I just always knew…”

  She’d never questioned what Daddy Adolf had told her?

  “Love,” she finally said, her eyes flaring. She pressed a hand against her chest. “I get this feeling of love in my heart when I think of God. He’s there to guide us, take care of us, but mostly to love us.” She blinked at me earnestly. “Do you feel it?”

  Yes. Her eyes gleamed with such conviction that I wanted to sweep her in my arms, our differences be damned. But how would she respond if I kissed her like I wanted to? Would she push me away, like she’d done in the kitchen?

  After moments ticked by, I knew she was waiting for an answer, so I said, “I want to feel that love. But it’s not that simple.” I sighed, unsure if I was talking about our messed-up relationship or our religious differences. I opted to continue down the less treacherous path. “If Christians were all about love, maybe I could get on board. But your religion seems more about hate to me.”

  She drew in a sharp breath. “Hate? How are you getting that out of the Christian message?”

  “You’re telling people like Allison they’re not worthy.”

  “I didn’t say that! We’re all sinners, but we’re all worthy in God’s eyes. And I like Allison—she’s a good person. I wouldn’t want something bad to happen to her.”

  “But what if something bad does happen to Allison or China? Without legal marriage, they couldn’t get survivor benefits.”

  She paused. “I actually agree with you on that.” Her nose wrinkled up adorably. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve been working on my dad, trying to get him to support civil unions. I think he’s starting to come around.”

  “But that’s not what gay people want! They want the right to marry, just like heterosexuals. Though why they want to join that destroyed institution is beyond me.” I grimaced, thinking of my parents. “Straight people who divorce like four times then have the balls to tell gay people they can’t marry? Total hypocrites.”

  “I agree on that, too. Divorce sucks.” She ran her hand down her long thigh, and tugged at her leggings. “I’m glad my parents are still married.”

  “You’re one of the lucky ones, then.”

  Her eyes searched mine. “What do you mean by that? Your parents are happily married, too.”

  I hoped she couldn’t hear my pounding heartbeat. She, more than anyone, couldn’t know my parents’ marriage was a sham. When I didn’t answer, she kept speaking.

  “My dad said divorce and single parenting have caused a lot of problems for America.”

  Stop talking about divorce!

  “Single parenting in minority homes leads to crime, school dropout, unemployment…” She ticked off each issue on her fingers. “The downfall of the family has hurt our country, and we need to get back to family values.”

  “What, like the wife barefoot and pregnant, two-point-five kids, with abortion illegal and white people stealing back all the power?” My fists clenched.

  “Increíble. What Alex said about your liberal guilt is spot on.” She gestured to her cheeks, a pretty rose blush blooming on her caramel skin. “And how dare you lecture me about multiculturalism?”

  “How dare you lecture me on liberal guilt!” My heartbeat drummed in my ears, and I knew I should walk away to rein in my aggression. But her belief system was so fucked up—I couldn’t let her say these things unchallenged. “We all need more guilt, to right wrongs. Liberals feel guilty because they care about people. We care about equality.”

  “Equality is impossible, Dane!” Her spine snapped straight. “It’s a fantasy. All we can strive for is equal opportunity—we can never be truly equal. Some people simply work harder than others.”

  “What a convenient excuse to subjugate people. That’s exactly why Daddy Adolf won’t support gay marriage—he thinks gay people aren’t equal to him.”

  “I told you not to say another word about my father! This conversation is over. It’s not even really a conversation!” She bolted off the bed, flying past me with a storm raging in those dark eyes. I scrambled off the chair to stop her. I clasped her wrists, and she wriggled in my arms.

  “Let me go!”

  “Jesus, you’re strong,” I marveled as I tried to contain her roving limbs.

  Just like that she stopped fighting and went almost limp in my arms. The abrupt shift alarmed me.

  She look
ed down. “I’m not strong.” I thought I heard her sniff. “I’m fat.”

  Did I hear her right? What a horrible thing to say about herself. I let her wrists go and listened to our panting as I tried to figure out how the hell to respond to her ridiculous comment. When she wouldn’t look at me, I tilted up her chin. Those shiny eyes blinked at me, full of wounds.

  “You’re not fat. You’re…”

  She seemed to hold her breath.

  “Beautiful.”

  She gasped, and I realized the enormity of what I’d said. At once we hopped away from each other. The energy between us had shocked us both.

  We stared at each other—eyes unwavering, chests heaving—for a long minute. What was she thinking? Did she hate me even more now? Would she run away again? Refuse to speak to me?

  She twisted her hands together then softly said, “But not as beautiful as Nina.”

  Shit. Now I knew for sure. “You heard about the abortion.”

  “Nina told me.” Her mouth quivered, and I could feel her judgment pouring over me like the steady rain pinging her bedroom window.

  “I know I fucked up. I was just a stupid freshman, okay?”

  She looked up at me from where she’d been studying her comforter.

  “I’m not trying to insult you. You’re, like, way more mature than I ever was as a freshman.” I swallowed. “But the abortion…I know you don’t understand, but the abortion needed to happen. It was a good thing.” It sounded like I was trying to convince myself more than explain things, and maybe I was. I continued in a flat voice, “It put that nightmare behind us. It made everything better.”

  “The abortion didn’t make it better for the baby! That innocent, defenseless baby!”

  As I watched her face fill with horror, a lump lodged in my throat. Though I tried to fight it, the image of a little blond baby girl, swaddled in a maroon Highbanks Cougars blanket, filled my head.

  “Okay, okay, you’re right,” I finally said. That killed me to admit. “I still regret it. I think about that…tiny baby. What she might have looked like…maybe she’d become a volleyball player, maybe a setter. I would’ve given a lot of love to her. I would’ve tried to be a good dad to her.”