by Rissa Brahm
“Fine. But after the wedding, we will talk. Seriously, I’m not leaving Vallarta until we do,” he asserted. “And I want your cell number. I’m not letting you off the hook, Isabel. I don’t do this, feel this way…ever! About a woman. But you…”
She gulped down air, then squinted at him for a beat. “But you have Destiny’s number…why do you need mine?” A smug expression spread over her perfect face.
“What? What does that even mean?” he snapped, trying to keep to a whisper for her.
“Destiny. From The Inferno? Was she on your playlist the night before you found me again? The number on the receipt?”
For fuck’s sake. The girl from The Inferno? The one who’d passed her number through Armando on the back of the receipt. Annoyance spiked at this new dramatic element between them, but, in the same vein, he felt his blood pump hot through him at the slight hint of jealousy. “Isabel…I planned my brother’s bachelor party, and when I went to the club to arrange and pay for it, like, a week ago, a girl threw her number at me. Written on my receipt, I had to keep it. Doesn’t mean I called her.”
She shifted nervously, red in the cheeks, flustered. “Are you or aren’t you a womanizing prick?” she asked, sounding as if she were asking herself the question at the same time.
“I’m—”
An elevator’s arrival bell interrupted him. Then Isabel’s glare paused him until the three hotel guests got out of the car.
“The tux will definitely be ready for Saturday,” she said in an ultra-professional tone while still holding him quiet with her eyes until the hotel guests were farther down the hall.
“They aren’t even part of Darren’s wedding.”
“I don’t know who is or who isn’t right now, and it doesn’t really matter. Every staff member at this hotel knows me. This is serious, Zack. My career is my life.” Her golden eyes widened with intensity.
God how he wanted her.
“Okay, I hear you.” He took a step closer to her, not caring if she liked it or not. “I’m not sure why, but I can’t stop thinking about you. I mean, not that I’m not sure why…you are unbelievable…smart, funny, sexy as hell! I meant that I have never been so crazy about one woman. No one else, nothing else, has kept my attention, my interest. Until you.”
“Hush, Jesus.” A harsh whisper. “And I’m so glad I’m ‘keeping your attention,’ like some fun-time dress-up doll, for Christ’s sake—”
“Just please let me finish, would you? As for that stupid phone number, the stripper’s, I didn’t call her, didn’t think about her, couldn’t even point her out to you if my life depended on it. I had to arrange my brother’s party, and the girl snagged my receipt from my attorney. Honestly, you’ve taken over my brain, Isabel, there’s been no one and nothing that’s made my radar.”
Isabel looked slightly relieved, but then disappointment, defeat glazed over her face. Why, though? Maybe she didn’t want all of this from him, like it was too much for her to take? Too overwhelming? Maybe the stuff in her past, the scars on her wrist? Was it all surfacing and freaking her the hell out?
He wouldn’t know until she let him in, gave him a chance. That wouldn’t happen until after the wedding, if he could wait that long.
Amy and her bridesmaids could be heard squawking down the hall, getting louder, closer. Isabel quickly hit the elevator call button. She was in the car before Zack could utter another syllable or even blink his eyes. Then the serious expression on her striking face disappeared behind the sliding elevator doors.
And for fuck’s sake, she had gotten away from him again without giving him her number.
CHAPTER 22
After taking Amy to the church, her Iglesias de Senora Guadalupe, Isabel brought the elated bride back to the hotel to meet up with the groom. Amy and Darren wanted to greet their out-of-town guests at the airport, which Isabel thought was sweet. Amy was lovely, and from watching her with Darren for a brief time before they got in the limo to the airport, she thought they were a very well-suited couple. Rare to see, good to see. A breath of fresh air. Really.
Isabel continued on with Antonio to meet Ray at her house. She welcomed the break from anything to do with Zack, the wedding, the church; any and all of it. An afternoon at home, and that nap, would be good for her before Friday’s big rehearsal dinner.
When they pulled into her driveway, Ray was there waving with one hand, holding her missing security pole in the other.
“So what did Roberto have to say? What did you say? Did you threaten him?” She bombarded Ray as she got out of the limo.
“Isa, you’ll be relieved. He did take the pole, but…”
“I should be relieved…for what? That he admitted it?” Isabel asked impatiently while Antonio unlocked her front door with the new set of keys Ray had handed him.
Once the door was opened, Ray punched in the code to her new alarm system, then continued. “Well, yes, but no. It sounded like there was nothing to admit. He said he took the pole to size out a stronger metal one for you. He was going to surprise you with it by just returning it to the track. He said he didn’t think giving each other space meant that you both couldn’t be there for each other like you always have been. Like at the bar that night, with that sleaze bag.”
She shook her head. How could Ray be so damn blind? “I asked for my house key back from him for a reason. Didn’t that tell him something? Wasn’t that pretty clear? In my demand for a break, I hadn’t made ‘surprises’ an exception, not even for a new security pole! In fact, his waiting up for me in my home until three in the morning was the very last surprise that brought me to my breaking point in the first place! And he obviously made a copy of my key! Doesn’t that strike you as odd? Because it freaks me the hell out!”
Ray could only stand there, wide-eyed and speechless, his breath hitched and holding, like it had when he’d gotten caught stealing their mother’s makeup at age ten.
But what bullshit!
She shifted her glare from Ray to the ceiling of her front entrance, her jaw tightening, her teeth grinding out her frustration and justified concern, an attempt to keep the threatening explosion from going off and burning her brother alive. He had only been trying to help in Antonio’s stead.
Ray jutted his hip, crossed his arms over his chest, and began again with a defensive tone. “So he misunderstood, stepped over the line, but the house is secure now, so it can’t happen again anyway. And making a copy of your key is just responsible, Isa. We all do that as a backup for family, and he’s been like family for almost twenty years!”
Isabel closed her eyes, her breathing deepened, her lips a hard, straight line.
“And, you should know, he said he agrees with your decision to give each other some space. He said he’s feeling good, even glad to have the time to focus on himself, to figure out what he really wants,” Ray concluded, trying to convince her and, unfolding his arms, softening, trying to put her at ease.
“Glad you believe him,” she cut, having reduced her tirade down to those few words.
“Hey”—Ray touched her arm—“he even went on a date last night. It seems like he is really trying, you know, to get over you.”
Isabel shook her head, clenching her teeth harder. She turned to Antonio, the oldest of them, the Ruiz rock, and said behind tightly pursed lips, “I don’t buy it. I’m just not convinced.”
“I get it, Isa. I do. But the point is that your house is alarmed and the locks are changed. The fence will be finished tomorrow. You’re good…honestly. If I’m not worried, neither should you be. I don’t believe Roberto would ever hurt you, but he couldn’t get to you now, even if he tried.”
She followed that neither Ray nor Antonio was worried, but with the major incidents over the past few years due to her horrendous luck, how could they not be?
It was then that a tight nauseating knot in her gut surfaced. A familiar knot, one that brought up terrible visions for her; flashes of hospitals, funeral caskets, bloody wrists—no
t her own, but her mother’s. This familiar knot was the very one that had taunted Isabel the entire day leading up to the most horrific discovery of her life, when Isabel found Yesinia Ruiz lifeless on the bathroom floor of her childhood home. The mother of twelve had blamed herself for Isabel’s ill-fated existence—and Isabel blamed herself.
Isabel pushed past Ray and Antonio and made it to the powder room just in time.
*
Her heaves turned quickly to empty gasps. Her throat sore, her head pounding, she stood and stared at herself in the now seamless mirror. She closed her eyes to reset and calm the burning sensation in her chest. A sudden flash of Roberto’s obsessing crystal-blue eyes appeared in her mind, and her lids shot open in an instant. She wouldn’t dare close them again, not if it meant seeing that chilling and invasive gaze. That stare. It made her skin crawl.
Instead, she focused on her own welling tears as her stomach-retching queasiness grew to a peak again.
“Isa, are you alright in there?” Antonio called through the door.
She couldn’t form words to answer him. “Mm-hmm,” was all she could muster with her raw and raspy voice.
But she wasn’t okay. And her safety and comfort level aside, she was certain Roberto wasn’t alright either. Again, her best friend’s obsession had gotten him stuck in a downward spiral because of her and her godforsaken hex. The hex, which there was absolutely nothing she could do about, despite all her efforts. Fate, as always, would do whatever the hell she wanted with Isabel’s life and with the lives of those Isabel cared about.
She crouched by the toilet’s edge, still on the brink of sickness, waiting for the next wave. It felt like forever, but eventually the nausea waned. She heard Antonio’s fading voice and then the sound of her front door shutting as her heavy eyes closed to let sleep take over, right there on her bathroom floor.
*
When she came out of the powder room, hours later according to the microwave, her stomach and emotions had calmed.
But now she was better able to focus, and the main room’s drastic reduction in sunlight stunned and chilled her. New blackout curtains across her precious sliding glass door gave a protective wave with the passing of the oscillating floor fan.
Her brothers had definitely gone all-out.
Not wanting to dwell on the loss of her glorious bay view, she continued her scan of the main room. Crazy how dark grey everything seemed; the walls, floor, the breakfast nook––yeah, she was going to sulk. Because now just to see anything, she’d have to surrender to artificial light and, God, she hated the harsh, fake glow. Forget about the electric bill. She huffed frustration from her nostrils as she switched on the kitchen light…
…to find, on the kitchen island, one wrapped present with a note.
*
Goosebumps dominoed up her arms. Her shoulders shimmied.
She kept her distance from the present as if it were a bomb, trying to shut her paranoia down so she could mentally process. Be rational, reasonable.
Then came the sound of running water, from her master bathroom?
Frozen thought, breath, feet, knees.
The water-rush stopped.
A nanosecond passed.
Duck, at least.
What, behind the couch?
It didn’t matter, her knees were locked.
At least grab something sharp or––
“Oh hey, you’re out.” Ray stood in her bedroom doorway drying his hands on his jeans, smiling. “You need hand towels in your master bath, Isa. Best to get some with silver accents to match the fixtures. Man, we should’ve gotten you those instead of, well, what we got you.”
She grit her teeth while slowing her breath down from bullet-train speed.
You are so oblivious, Jesus, Ray!
Calm. Do not explode.
But it was damn hard not to, her sense of relief was no match for the extreme panic that had just moments before consumed her being. And as Ray practically bounced his way to the gift––apparently from him?––on the kitchen island, just totally giddy, her temperature climbed higher still. Her eyes followed him, now disbelief trumping all.
“Go ahead and open it. Happy belated house-warming from Eddie and me.” He slid it to the edge and handed it to her.
She heaved a breath out. Don’t be pissed. Nice brother. Well-meaning brother. She somehow mustered a sweet smile for a “thank you” as she took the gift. “I just didn’t know who was here, who’d left the gift, you know?”
Because, remember, Ray, when I got violently ill from this whole Roberto thing?
“Oh, yeah, well, Antonio thought one of us should stay until you woke up. Man, were you snoring. Best to just let you sleep, like our partying days, right? Bowing to the porcelain god?” He smiled.
Ray, sweet-natured, oblivious, Ray.
She glanced at him, with a stoic smile. After securing the condo, her brothers were just not concerned about the Roberto-threat and she had to accept that. But it wasn’t like they weren’t taking her seriously; Ray had stayed until she woke up.
And hell, beyond that, maybe they were right? Why worry if everything proactive that could be done had been done. Well, except for the completion of the fence.
But maybe, just maybe, she was overreacting about the entire thing? Paranoia was a way of life for her.
She looked up at Ray who still seemed oblivious to any of her inner turmoil here, way more focused on the wrapped present. Eyeing it, nodding at it, brows waggling at the damn thing.
And it was nice, a present. He’d always been thoughtful that way. No one else brought her a housewarming gift.
“Thank you, Ray. And I’m glad you stayed.” She put the box down on the floor and hugged her brother.
“You’re welcome, and”—he picked the box up from the ground and shoved it in her arms—“open it already. You’re killing me, Isa.” He glowed, hands clasped at his chest. “Eddie will be so mad he missed seeing your face, but I have to give it now. It will just make you feel tons better. Maybe I should take a pict—”
“Nope,” she said, stopping him from reaching for his cell phone. “Eddie can take our word for how excited the gift made you, I mean me,” she teased.
Eddie and Ray were for all intents and purposes, married. She’d known they’d been together since they were fifteen, but they’d only come out publicly a few years ago. A decade in hiding. But even though attitudes in Mexico had opened up, or at least in Vallarta they had, with the large foreign gay population a sign, Ray and Eddie got almost as many harsh stares as Isabel did. Isabel really had to give Ray credit for having fought the biggest and most important fight of his life—living his truth in their predominantly homophobic world. She really couldn’t have been prouder of him. She thought her mother would’ve been proud too if she’d been around to know.
She unwrapped the present. A pot and pan set. Wow. She placed the box down on the counter and put on a wide-ass grin. “God, thanks, Ray, really…”
“What? We wanted to get you something useful!” Disappointment pulled his smile down to the floor.
She pulled him in for a hug, the assured remedy. “Yes, because you know how much I cook!”
“Now you will,” he pouted in her ear.
“Hah!”
“You should, you are twenty-five for goodness’ sakes! Just don’t burn the place down!”
She smiled then sighed at the serious potentiality said in a light-hearted tone.
“Thanks, Brother. You’re the best.” He really was.
“And what do you think of the drapes? Antonio’s idea, but Eddie and I picked the fabric!”
“Yes, the privacy curtains. Definitely a…surprise.” Another set up, poor Ray. Yeah, after being in the main room for five minutes now, she officially detested the curtains. They were horrendous and stifling, but yes, necessary. And weighing the fear of Roberto’s lurking with this new involuntary claustrophobia, like being trapped in a jail cell right by the expansive sea—the worst ki
nd of tease—she wasn’t sure which was worse.
What she did know was that the entire situation sucked.
“Thank you, Ray. They’re just what I needed.” Damn it, Roberto.
“Oh, and I got a call from the fence installers while you were, you know, napping. They’re gonna take a few more days than they thought to finish the entire perimeter, but the alarm system is remotely monitored, twenty-four seven, so you’re A-Okay, no doubt.”
She sighed. “Okay, Ray. Well, thank you, you know, for everything.” They walked to the front door.
“Anytime and always, little sis.”
Ray kissed her cheek and left, shutting the front door behind him.
“Hey, Isa!” A muffled call from outside. “Lock up and press ‘away’ on the keypad! And the rest of the codes are on that note in the kitchen! And have fun cooking!”
She smirked as she turned the deadbolt, engaged the alarm, and then listened to the sound of her own breath echoing in the surrounding silence of the now dank and dreary main room.
CHAPTER 23
Since the tuxedo fitting that morning, Zack had been a wreck. A goddamn mess, for sure.
The entire situation was fucking with his ability to maintain, and maintaining was his forte. For him, multimillion-dollar deals were like tying his shoes. But when it came to Isabel, well, he couldn’t even find the damn “shoes” to begin with!
She amazed him. Her fucking stellar performance in the hotel suite in front of his brother and all the guys; the calm, cool strut; and, oh man, her teasing touch. She was just so damn smooth.
He had been totally floored when she’d walked in that room with Darren. Her reappearance, a heavenly relief. And he had never known how cold and tight his heart had been until it had opened then, like a first breath of air after drowning in the sea for too damn long.
But now they had to play strangers? He grumbled.
Fuck it. Fine. At least he’d found her. That was all that mattered. Well, except for missing her damn cell number again, but he’d snag that as soon as he saw her next, no doubt at the rehearsal dinner the following night at the very latest.
