At his words, for some bizarre reason, ice water flooded my veins and my body froze.
“Don’t make fun of me,” I whispered.
Immediately, his head came up and I noticed his smile had vanished.
He stared at me a second, eyes dark, then he spoke.
“I’m not makin’ fun of you, Sadie. I’m teasin’ you. There’s a big fuckin’ difference.”
I watched him and realized belatedly that his smile had not only vanished, Mr. Mood Swing was getting downright angry.
He kept talking, proving me right.
“Mujer, you’re gonna have to learn, pretty fuckin’ quick, to trust me. I’m not like the people you know, the society bitches, the assholes your father recruited. You don’t have to shut down. You don’t have to put those fuckin’ shields up. Christ, I want you to be who you are.”
Yes. I was right. He was downright angry.
My heart lurched.
I did it again. I insulted him. Not as badly as last night but not good either.
“Hector –” I started.
“This is your gig, Sadie. I can’t help you. You’re gonna have to figure it out and fast. I’m not walkin’ on eggshells wonderin’ what fuckin’ reaction you’re gonna have to everything I say. I’m gonna say this once so pay attention. I’m not passin’ the time here, enjoyin’ a sweet, hot piece for the fuck of it. If you don’t get it yet, I’ll give it to you. What we got, it means somethin’. Do you understand?”
My heart lurched again but this time it felt nice and that warm, happy glow hit my chest.
“I understand,” I whispered.
“You better fuckin’ understand,” he bit out.
I closed my eyes tight then opened them again.
“I’m sorry.” He stared at me silently and I continued. “About just now and about last night. I was horrible, I said horrible…” I stopped and then started again, “I’m working through it, I promise.”
He kept staring at me, a second then two then his fingers slid into the side of my hair and I saw his mood swing again but not fully, he was holding onto some of his anger, I could see it.
“Jesus, you’re a pain in the ass,” he muttered.
“I’m sorry about that too,” I said instantly and I meant it.
His thumb came out of my hair and started sliding along my temple.
“I’ll make up for it,” I told him.
His eyes were watching his thumb but at my words, they came to mine. “Yeah?”
“I’ll buy you a building,” I offered.
His body went tight and his eyes narrowed.
“Or, an island somewhere,” I went on quickly. “I don’t know how much islands cost but there has to be one in my price range.”
It was then I felt him relax, his mouth did that fighting-a-grin thing, I knew he finally let go of his anger and the happy glow settled in.
Since what I was doing appeared to be working, I kept talking. “It might just be a beach and a palm tree but what else do you need on an island?”
He lost the fight with his grin, his head descended and I carried on, even when his lips were against mine.
“We’ll bring a cooler and a picnic basket…” I stopped talking because he started kissing me, open-mouthed and sweet.
His body settled on mine, his arms were sliding around me when his cell rang.
He lifted his head and I saw right away that he’d morphed again, this time looking frustrated.
He pressed into me as he reached to the nightstand to nab his phone.
“This is over, mi cielo,” his eyes came to me as he flipped open his phone, “I’m takin’ you to a fuckin’ island.” Then he put his phone to his ear and clipped, “Yeah?”
My gaze was on Hector’s face, my thoughts were on being on an island with Hector and in the very, very back of my mind, I figured my Mom would like that. I mean, I wasn’t altogether certain my Mom would be thrilled about Hector’s creativity in the sack (or my response to it) but what he did to me was beautiful in its way and he made me feel good so she had to approve of that.
Right?
Then I saw his face grow tight and thoughts of my Mom’s approval of Hector disintegrated.
Oh no.
What now?
“No joke?” Hector said into the phone, his eyes moving to me and I did not like what I saw. Not at all.
“Right,” he went on. “We’re comin’ down.”
Without saying good-bye, he flipped the phone shut, tossed it on the nightstand and then stared at it, face still tight, body now tense.
“Hector?” I called.
His chin dipped and he looked at me.
“Maybe we’ll go to an island today,” he murmured.
Damn and blast!
“What?” I asked.
His face went soft and he muttered, “Shit, Sadie.”
“What?” I snapped.
He rolled us and once he got to his back, he did an ab curl, his hands tugging at the backs of my knees so we were sitting with me straddling him. His head tilted back, mine down, my hands on his shoulders, his arms loose around me.
“Your gallery has been torched,” he told me.
Convulsively, my hands moved to his neck and my fingers squeezed.
“Oh my God,” I breathed.
“Fire started at five this morning. It’s out now, they don’t know how much damage yet but it didn’t spread.” He paused then asked, “You insured?”
I was speechless so I nodded. For some reason, all I could think of was my lovely gift wrap and organdie ribbon, now probably reduced to ash.
And Lisette’s paintings!
I closed my eyes tight and, not even thinking about it, I dropped my head until my forehead was resting on Hector’s.
“Lisette’s paintings,” I whispered, his arms tightened and I opened my eyes.
“You wanna go down there?”
“No,” I told him. “But I’m going to go.”
His hands went to my waist, he lifted me off him and to the side. He came over me, off the bed, hands back to my waist, he pulled me out of bed and set me on my feet.
Without a word, he tagged my hand and led the way to the shower.
* * * * *
After Hector and I had our (yes, our!) shower, I called Buddy and Ralphie to give them the news.
Buddy answered and I felt weird. After last night, I thought they’d be mad at me but Buddy’s voice was its usual soft and sweet.
“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked.
“Yes. Did Ralphie –?”
“He told me. He’s upset, thinks he hurt your feelings,” Buddy interrupted.
“He didn’t hurt my feelings. I was worried I hurt his.”
“No, he gets what you were trying to do. He overreacted, as usual.”
“It wasn’t his fault.”
Buddy changed the subject. “Are you really movin’ to Greece?”
“Not anymore,” I answered.
Silence for a second then, teasing, “Damn, there went my vacation plans.”
I smiled into the phone, relief rolling over me for a brief shining moment then my smile faded and I said, “I’ve got bad news.”
More silence then I told him about the gallery.
Then he shouted, “What?”
I winced.
I heard him cover the mouthpiece and even though it was covered, I heard Ralphie’s shrill scream.
Buddy came back to me. “Ralphie, YoYo and me’ll meet you there.”
“See you soon,” I said and we disconnected.
I dressed in my Lucky jeans, a slimfit, long-sleeved, white t-shirt, the black belt with the rose buckle and motorcycle boots that Daisy, Roxie, Tod and Stevie gave me. I left my hair long to dry in crazy, natural waves and ringlets and did a half-assed pass with blusher, shadow and mascara (though, I spent more time on my lip gloss, you had to be careful with lip gloss, even when you were about to view your burned out building, if you didn’t you’d look like a clown).
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Hector and I climbed into the Bronco and headed into town.
We hit LoDo and I saw Hector avoid the Nightingale garage which would be the perfect parking opportunity.
“You can park in the garage,” I told him as he navigated early morning downtown traffic.
His eyes came to me briefly then went back to the road.
“I’m thinkin’ you’ve scaled enough mountains for now, mamita,” he muttered and his casual kindness made that happy glow grow a smidgen wider.
He drove until he found a spot on the street three blocks from the gallery and he parallel parked.
Then Hector and I walked hand-in-hand toward the gallery.
As we approached, I saw the crowd forming a U in front of what was left of Art. Traffic had been diverted, there were barricades up in a wide arc in front of the gallery, the fire trucks and police cars were still there and people were standing around the barricades in the street.
Without apology, Hector shoved his way through the crowd to the barricades and walked right through.
A uniformed officer looked at him and gave him a chin lift. Hector and I walked into the opened area where firemen and police were milling about.
I stared at my building. The brick on the outside was blackened, the windows had shattered, the inside was blackened too and water was everywhere.
Hector walked us to Detective Marker who was standing watching us approach. We got close and stopped.
“Jimmy,” Hector said, dropping my hand but his arm slid around my shoulders and he pulled me into his side.
“Hector,” Detective Marker greeted then his eyes came to me. “Sadie.”
“Detective Marker,” I replied and looked back at my gallery.
My heart sunk at the same time my body sagged despondently into Hector’s side. In response, his arm curled around my neck and tightened.
“Donny Balducci’s a firebug,” Detective Marker remarked, his gaze never leaving the building.
“Yeah,” Hector agreed, his eyes also locked on what was left of Art.
My head tilted back to look at Hector.
His face was stony.
My gaze drifted to Detective Marker.
He looked a weird mixture of angry and resigned. In other words, he had what could only be called a Cop Look.
Then Hector started talking again.
“Jack’s sending the tapes by courier to the Station. We got them on the cameras, Jack saw ‘em break in and called it in. Said he saw Donny with the gasoline either Marty or Ricky with him, he didn’t get a good look at the second guy but he knew it was a Balducci. They made fast work of it. The place was ablaze and they were gone before anyone got here.”
“I hope its Ricky,” Detective Marker replied, fishing his phone out of his suit jacket.
“Yeah,” Hector said. “I’m thinkin’ arson is probably a violation of his bond.”
I was no longer listening. A thin film of red had descended over my eyes and there was a buzzing in my ears.
My sagging body went tight and I put my hand on Hector’s stomach, pulled slightly away and looked up at him.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
Hector’s chin dipped and his eyes came to mine.
“Parceling out the bad news, mamita,” he said softly. “You can only take so much at once.”
I blinked at him and then took in both Hector and Detective Marker.
“Let me get this straight,” I said, my voice trembling, something strange happening to me.
It was not my weird, warm, happy glow (not even fucking close).
It was not that hot, hard, painful knot in my chest.
It was something else altogether.
When I had both their attention, I kept talking. “First, for weeks, all the fucking Balduccis call me, stop by the gallery only when I’m alone, show up at my apartment day and night, doing crazy shit, saying crazy things and freaking me out. Then Ricky fucking Balducci breaks in, beats me up and rapes me. Then Harvey fucking Balducci assaults me and tries to kidnap me. Then Marty fucking Balducci threatens me over the phone and calls me the c-word, twice. Now, Donny fucking Balducci has burned down my gallery?”
I was shouting, people were looking at me and I didn’t care.
“You have got to be shitting me!” I yelled.
Hector got in my line of sight.
“Mamita, calm down,” he muttered.
I looked up at him and grabbed onto his tee, fisting it in my fingers and giving him a shake (well, trying to, but he didn’t move, just his tee did).
“You be calm! I’m pissed right, the fuck, off!” I screamed.
“This is gonna end, soon, Sadie, trust me.”
“Yeah, it’s going to end soon. I’m gonna hunt those motherfuckers down and –”
Hector’s hand came over my mouth and I finished my shouted threat so it sounded like, “Kff thff.”
Hector shuffled me back, arm still tight around my neck, hand over my mouth until we were away from Detective Marker and everyone.
Then his head came close. “Mamita, he knows you’re emotional and don’t mean it. Still, not good to threaten homicide in front of a cop.”
I just glared at him over his hand on my mouth.
“You in control?” he asked.
“No!” I said under his hand but it came out, “Nff!”
His body started to shake and I knew he was laughing.
My head prepared to explode.
Now, really, seriously, there was nothing fucking funny about this.
“This is not fucking funny,” I said under his hand but, again, it came out, “Thff if nf ffing ffny.”
I knew he was about to burst out laughing which would mean I’d have to kill him right in front of Detective Marker (or not kill him because I liked him but at least do him some bodily harm) when we heard, “We’re with them.”
Hector and my heads turned to the side and we saw Ralphie and Buddy with YoYo on a leash trying to get by a uniformed officer.
Hector dropped his arms, letting me go and called, “Joe, it’s all right.”
“Joe” looked at Hector, nodded and stepped aside. Ralphie and Buddy forged through, both of them walking slowly, their heads turned to the side staring at Art. YoYo strained at her lead, tongue lolling, bugged out eyes on me and Ralphie let her go. She scampered across the space; I leaned down and picked her up. She decided she needed to bathe my neck and jaw with her tongue so this was what she did, squiggling in my arms, all happy puppy.
“Stop,” Hector suddenly clipped at the pug, YoYo went still immediately and stared at him.
At his tone, so did I.
“She’s just happy to see me,” I explained to Hector.
“Only tongue on your neck is mine,” he returned.
My eyes bugged out as far as YoYo’s.
“You’re jealous of a dog?”
“Fuck no,” he answered, staring at me like I had a screw loose. “But I might have a mind to put my mouth on you and I don’t want to do it after a dog.”
Well.
Had to admit, he had a point.
And it was an interesting point.
And the thought of his mouth on me made me forget all about the crazy, mean, fucking, Balduccis.
Ralphie and Buddy made it to us and they gave chin lifts to Hector, (Ralphie’s came with a, “Hey, Double H”) and hugs and cheek kisses to me (Ralphie’s hug was tighter than normal, longer and after, he looked into my eyes until I smiled at him, only then did he move away).
“Lisette is gonna freak. She’d been working on that collection for over a year,” Ralphie said, his eyes now on the blackened building and my thoughts went right back to the crazy, mean, fucking Balduccis.
“Hector said it was Donny Balducci,” I informed them and, in unison, they looked at me. “I know. But you aren’t allowed to threaten his life, not in front of the police, or so Hector says.”
“Can I threaten to beat the crap out of him?” Buddy asked.
He was fighting a grin but he shook his head at me.
“Probably not,” I told Buddy.
“Well!” Ralphie cried (loudly). “Life gives you lemons, you make lemonade. We’re insured against loss of income, this means vacation. This means shopping. This means trips to the spa. This means learning how to make that complicated lemon soufflé.”
“You don’t cook,” Buddy cut in.
“Well, I’m gonna learn,” Ralphie shot back. “And that means Sur La Table, Cherry Creek Mall, after breakfast. Maybe Williams Sonoma. I’m calling the Rock Chicks. I’m thinking Mercury Café.” He turned to me. “You call Lisette and after I’m done calling Daisy, I’ll call the insurance people. We eat then we’re shopping for kitchen implements.”
“We don’t need any kitchen implements,” Buddy cut in again.
“One always needs kitchen implements,” Ralphie returned.
“No shopping and no breakfast with the Rock Chicks. Unless I can get a man on Sadie, she’s staying at the offices today,” Hector entered the conversation.
“That’s all right, Double H, I’m on the case,” Ralphie assured him.
Hector’s face went a weird mixture of hard and soft and I realized why when he started speaking in a voice that was the same as his face.
“No. I want a trained man on her. Buildings are burning. The Balduccis are feelin’ pressure. I want her covered by a professional.”
I stared at Hector, cuddling YoYo closer to the warm, happy glow in my chest because at that point it hit me not a lot of macho, badasses would hang out with Ralphie (maybe Buddy but never Ralphie). They wouldn’t watch TV with him. They wouldn’t have dinner with him. They certainly wouldn’t be nice to him when they knew what they said could hurt his feelings.
And that’s when I knew.
Right then and there, watching Hector be careful with Ralphie’s feelings, I knew.
It had happened.
I was living the dream.
The dream of a good man who would save me. The dream of a man who would sweep away my bad life and take me to a jumbled bungalow (though Hector’s house wasn’t a bungalow but still) and make me safe. Make me happy. Make me so warm, I’d never feel cold again.
Rock Chick Regret Page 39
