by Chiah Wilder
“What’s up, Laura?”
“Where are you? You were supposed to be over here like twenty minutes ago.” Muerto racked his brain trying to remember why he was—“You forgot, didn’t you?”
“No. Just running behind, that’s all.” He made a U-turn and headed back to the main road. He’d hoped the reason he was meeting Laura would come to him.
“Okay. I just want everything to be perfect for Ma’s birthday, that’s all.”
The birthday party. That’s right. Fuck. “I do too. I’m on my way.”
Muerto parked his bike in front of Laura’s home in a working-class neighborhood where all of the houses were either red or brown brick and had green squares of yard in the front and back. In the summer, the porches were filled with gossiping mothers watching their kids as they frolicked. Every once in a while the high-pitched tunes of the ice cream truck would pierce through the laughter and the children would scramble over to the curb, fidgeting in place as they waited for the white van with colorful popsicles plastered on it to appear.
As he wiped his face and neck with a rag, his two nephews and his niece came tearing out of the house, waving at him as they raced by. Laura came toward him, shaking her head. “Sorry about that. They heard the ice cream truck.”
“What can I say? That’s some stiff competition.” He smiled at her. “How’ve you been? You look tired.”
She shrugged. “I’m okay. It’s just so damn hot. Let’s go inside.”
He followed her up the porch steps into the house. Cool air surrounded him. “When did you put the AC in?”
“A couple of months ago. It’s been a lifesaver. That guy you recommended gave us a killer price. Do you want a pop or some water?”
“A beer would be great.”
“In the middle of the afternoon?”
“Yeah.” He sank down on one of the cushy chairs and crossed his leg over his thigh. “So does Ma know about her birthday party?”
She handed him a Coors. “No. You didn’t hint at anything, did you?” He shook his head and she visibly relaxed. “I’m trying to keep it a secret. It’ll be real nice. You said that you’d help with getting a place to have it. I’m thinking of having about a hundred people.”
“Really? Fuck, that’s a big party. I thought it was just a few close friends and family.”
“Well, you know how that goes. If I invite Aunt Martha, then I have to invite Cousin Julia, and on and on it goes.”
“I guess. I’ll get the place. We’ve got about a month, right?”
“Six weeks, to be exact. Don’t forget to do it. We need to secure a place now before it fills up. A lot of people get married in the summer. And speaking of that, it’d be great if you could bring a nice girl to the party. Ma worries that you’ll never get married and have a family. I worry about it too.”
“How the hell did this go from me getting a place for a party to you meddling into my personal life? I’ve told you before to leave it alone. I can guarantee you that I’m not lonely.” He took another gulp of beer.
“I didn’t say you didn’t have women to fill your nights. I’m talking about the quality of the women. I know the type who hang around at your clubhouse.”
“What’s wrong with them? They’re nice chicks. You don’t even know them so don’t go judging them.”
Laura stretched her legs out on the couch. “Would you bring them over to Ma’s to introduce them?” He shook his head. “I knew it. Why can’t you find a decent girl? Someone you can introduce to Ma.”
“What makes you think I want a decent girl? I like them wild—it’s more fun. Anyway, I don’t wanna settle down.”
“Ever?”
He shrugged. “How the fuck do I know? I’m just not interested in a relationship right now. Leave it alone or I go.” He set the can on the end table.
“You’re impossible. You’re going to wake up one day and be old and alone.”
He waved his hand at her. “Yeah, whatever. Are we done here?”
“No. We need to talk about the food and the decorations. I was thinking we could do a theme. I think Ma would love that. Do you have any ideas on that?”
He ran his hand through his hair. “No. Do what you want. I’ll get a place for the party and give you the money for it, but that’s where my involvement ends.”
“Mateo, I need your help.”
“No, you don’t, and don’t call me that. Mateo’s been gone for a long time.” Eleven years, to be exact. Once he’d hit eighteen, he’d signed on as a prospect for the Night Rebels and he never looked back. He wished his family would accept that part of his life instead of pretending it wasn’t real or it was just temporary.
“I refuse to call you Muerto. I mean, do you seriously want people to call you Death?”
He looked at her stone-faced. “Yeah. Fuckin’ deal with it.” She shook her head. “Then call me M like your kids do, but don’t call me Mateo. Only one who can do that is Ma.”
“I’m the oldest, so I should be telling you what to do. I hate when you do this shit. I mean, you act like everything I do or say is petty. When you do that, you’re telling me you think my life is insignificant and a big fucking joke.” Her voice cracked and she covered her face with her hands.
Muerto, at a loss for words, sat and stared at her. What the fuck just happened? As she sniffled he grew more uncomfortable. He hated when a woman cried, even though he should’ve been used to it since he’d grown up with a single mom and two sisters. But he wasn’t, and it would always rip through him when one of them would cry.
He wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. And I don’t think your life is insignificant. I mean, look at you. You’re a kickass mom, you manage to keep a good home for your kids, look terrific, and have time to make Joe feel like a king in his house. I think you’re fuckin’ great. I just don’t tell you that very often.”
Instead of the teary giggles he was used to, she broke out into low, breathy sobs. He stood up and went over to her, gently tugging her to him even though she resisted.
She finally relaxed and buried her face in his T-shirt. He held her as her body heaved and her nose ran. He grabbed a paper napkin from the coffee table and handed it to her. She took it and pulled back a bit, her puffy eyes red and wet as she blew her nose. She leaned back against the couch and smoothed her dark hair down. “Sorry for that. I know how you hate a crying woman.” She laughed through her tears.
“No worries. What’s going on? You’ve been on edge since I got here. Are you pissed off at me about something?”
She wiped her nose again and breathed out. “I think Joe’s cheating on me.”
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “I found lipstick on one of his shirts yesterday, and I’ve had at least three hang-up calls this morning. And he changed the password to his computer.”
He put his hand on her forearm. “Do you think it’s with someone in Alina or when he’s on the road?” Joe was a long-distance truck driver who usually spent ten days at a stretch on the interstates. He’d come home for a few days and then be back on the road for another stretch. Muerto admired the way his sister handled raising her children and dealing with the absence of her husband. As he watched her heart breaking in front of him, a slow burn started to ignite his nerves. All he wanted to do was find his fucking brother-in-law and beat the shit out of him.
“I think it’s someone local. All the time he’s been driving, I never suspected him of cheating. He never gave me a reason to, but for the past few months he’s been acting real restless. I know I’ve been tired and not in the mood, but I’ve gone back to work to make up for the cut in hours Joe said he’s had. Now I wonder if I’ve been working to help him have some free time to spend with her.”
“Maybe he’s just been going to the strip bar. A new one’s opened up in town. I can check it out for you to see if he’s been hanging around there.” He’d seen Joe many tim
es at Lust, but each time Muerto had been there, he’d never seen Joe act inappropriately with any of the dancers or waitresses. He was just a guy with a couple of his friends enjoying a beer and a few dances from some hot women. It’d always seemed innocent enough to him, and he’d never thought of mentioning it to Laura. He hadn’t wanted to start any problems between them, and as long as Joe had kept his hands away and his dick zipped up, he’d been cool with it. But he hadn’t seen Joe at Lust in the last few months.
“If you could do that for me, that’d be great, but I don’t want you confronting him. I’ll deal with this. I’m probably overreacting. It’s just been such a hot summer.”
He clenched his jaw. “Let me know if you need anything. And quit your fuckin’ job. You got enough shit to take care of with the kids, the house, and Ma.”
Before she could say anything, his nephews and niece banged open the screen door, the remnants of their red popsicles around their mouths.
“Uncle M,” they cried excitedly as they rushed over to him. He gathered Lorena in his arms, and she snuggled against him while Javier and Carlos sat next to him, Carlos wedging in between Muerto and Laura.
After a couple hours of roughhousing with the kids, Muerto glanced at his phone. “I gotta go. I have some stuff I have to finish before I head over to the pool hall.” He gave Lorena, Javier, and Carlos a big bear hug and then walked over to the door. Laura followed him outside. He pulled her to him and hugged her. “I’ll look into things for you,” he whispered in her ear.
She raised her hand up over her eyes, shielding them from the western sun. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Please don’t say anything to Joe. Promise me?”
He looked away, the fire that had started when she’d first told him about her suspicions still raging inside him. He couldn’t promise her what she wanted. “I’ll try not to beat the shit outta him if I find out he’s been a fuckin’ louse.” He shook his head when she pushed him back a little with her hands. “That’s the best I can give you.”
She nodded as she fanned herself with her hand. “Remember to book the place for Ma’s birthday party.” He pulled out a wad of bills and gave them to her. “What’s this?”
“It’s for Ma’s party and whatever else you need.” She tried to hand it back to him, but he ran down the steps. “Stop working. If you need me for anything, give me a call.”
“Mateo, I don’t need this much money. We’re supposed to split the party. Mateo… are you listening to me?”
He shook his head, smiled and waved at her, then jumped on his bike and took off before she reached the curb. He wished Laura would let him help her family more, but he knew she was a proud woman—sometimes too much. At least she let him pay for the kids’ private school tuition, but it had taken the intervention of his mother, the parish priest, and all three of her kids before she’d accepted his offer.
He swung a left on Trail Ridge Road and went south toward his rental. He wanted to see what his sassy tenant was up to before he found Joe and ripped him a new asshole. Muerto was so pissed that he knew he’d have to hit the gym to pound out his aggression on a punching bag or else he was liable to use someone’s face later that night at Balls and Holes.
When he rode up to the duplex, there was no sign of her and disappointment weaved through him, making him even more pissed than he already was. What the fuck do I care if she’s around or not? I’m just bored. He spotted Walter rolling up the hose. Walter was the tenant who lived in the back part of the duplex. He parked his Harley and went over to him.
The man looked up and smiled at him. “How are you?” he asked.
“Good. I was just in the neighborhood. Everything going good with your place?”
Walter nodded. “I don’t have any complaints.”
“You getting along with the woman who lives in the front?” Why the fuck am I asking him about her?
The tenant’s eyes narrowed. “Did she say something to you?” His voice dripped ice.
Taken aback, Muerto shook his head. “Nah, I was just wondering. She didn’t say anything. You good with her?”
His face softened. “Yeah. I rarely see her, but when I do, we get along fine. She seems like a nice girl.”
“Cool. Let me help you with the hose.” As he rolled it up, he glanced at Walter. He’d been his tenant for the past five years, but he was an odd fellow. He never talked about anything personal, and Muerto wasn’t sure if he had a woman or not. He never brought up women or his parents or friends, or anyone. It was like the man lived in a cocoon, sheltered from the rest of the world. He seemed harmless enough, but Muerto thought there was more to him than he was letting on.
“Thanks for helping out,” the tenant said as he placed the hose on the holder.
“Sure. The yard’s looking good,” Muerto said as he started to leave. “If you need anything, let me know.”
“Shouldn’t I call the management company? Does Deanna still work there?”
“Uh… yeah, you’d give them a call first. Deanna’s still there. Why?”
“Every time I call over there, a man tells me she isn’t available.”
“Maybe she’s busy when you call.”
“Every single time? This has been going on for over two months.”
Muerto watched as the man’s face started to redden and his body stiffened. The dude’s real pissed. I’ll have to give Deanna a call. “What do you have going on over here that you need to call that much? Is there a problem in the unit?”
Walter’s gaze drilled into Muerto and he returned it. After several seconds, the tenant glanced away, a small chuckle escaping from his throat. “It’s really nothing. I’ve only called a few times over minor things, like the new trash cans the county made us get.”
The guy’s a fuckin’ weirdo. “If you have trouble getting ahold of someone, you have my number. Use it.” He turned around and went to his Harley. Glancing over at the window in the front unit, he swore he saw the blinds move. I bet she’s inside, checking me out. Well feast your eyes on what you may or may not get, sweetheart. At that moment, he’d decided that she’d have to work to get into his bed. He’d planned on making it easy, but a woman who had that much sass and sexiness had to be taken down a couple of notches, and he was just the man to do it.
He revved his cams for effect and then roared away, sensing her eyes on his every movement. Being a landlord had just become a whole lot more interesting.
Chapter Four
Raven watched as Muerto pulled away from the curb. He’s such an insufferable jerk. She stared a long time at the road, well after he’d disappeared from sight. There was something about him that pulled at her, and it was more than his dangerously good looks. The last thing I need is to get involved with another asshole. One was enough for a lifetime.
Raven’s ex-boyfriend, Brent, popped into her mind. She’d met him in Las Vegas about a year and a half before, and she’d fallen hard for him. She’d worked in the coffee shop of one of the big hotels and Brent had been in her section. He and a few buddies were in town for six months working on a large construction project. When he’d gazed at her with his dreamy blue eyes, she’d been immediately smitten. Never in her life had the attraction been that intense, so when he’d asked her to join him for lunch the following day, she readily accepted.
For the next six months, they were practically inseparable, and a week before Brent was to leave, he’d asked her to come with him to Alina. Without thinking, she’d told him yes. She worried about her dad being alone, but then he’d met a lady who liked to drink, party, and barbecue—the three musts for her dad. The fact that she was a well-off widow was an added bonus. So she’d moved to Alina with Brent, eager, happy, and excited to start a new chapter in her life.
She’d fallen in love with the town the minute she saw the sun casting golden rays on the red rock formations. The area had a peaceful, spiritual feel to it, and she’d immediately felt like she had finally found her home after years on the road with her dad. She a
nd Brent had settled into a small bungalow that had a huge yard where she grew vegetables and herbs. Brent traveled about two weeks a month on small construction projects around the state. She’d begun making jewelry while continuing to paint, and their time together was idyllic until she’d answered the door one beautiful, late-spring day.
A woman who’d looked to be in her late twenties had stood on the porch, a small boy on her hip and two small girls next to her. She’d introduced herself as Brent’s wife and told her the children were his. The weeks he’d told Raven he was away working, he was staying with his wife in northern Colorado. The betrayal had ripped out her heart.
In the past few months, she’d begun to heal. I’m doing just fine on my own.
She went to the small mudroom off the kitchen and picked up her watering can, sun hat, and garden gloves. Even though she found Muerto extremely attractive, she hated his “I’m so badass” attitude. Men were good at breaking women’s hearts, but the cocky ones were the worst of all. She’d seen plenty of women throw their lives away on a well-built bad boy. A couple of her waitress friends back in Vegas had done that, and they were left with nothing but tears. Raven was done with tears—she’d spent them all on Brent—and swore that no man would ever hurt her again. Besides, she loved being on her own; she was free to do whatever she wanted.
She opened the back door and walked around to the front where she’d planted a small vegetable garden. She adjusted her hat, put on her gloves, and bent down to pull the weeds.
“You’re looking good,” a voice said from behind her.
Doesn’t the creep have a job? “Hey, Walter.” She kept pulling without even a sideways look at him.
“Your peppers look good. Very delicious… like you.”
