His gaze dropped to my mouth.
My mouth went dry.
The anticipation fled and the fear took hold and I started to panic.
I was about to push away, run away, get out of there as fast as my French pedicure toe-nailed feet would take me when his fingers at my hip flexed and I fought through the fear and focused on him again.
“I need to get home,” he said softly.
At his words, the panic disappeared and relief filled me.
I nodded. He did an ab curl, pulling up, taking me with him until he was on his feet and he planted me on mine, right in front of him.
Then before I could move away, he grabbed my hand and I had no choice but to walk him to the door.
He stopped there, hand still in mine, body so close I could feel his heat and he looked down at me.
“I go out, I wait until I hear you lock the door,” he informed me.
I nodded again.
Then he went on, “Tomorrow night, I’ll be back. Seven o’clock. I’m taking you to dinner.”
The panic came back and my mouth dropped open. Hector “Oh my God” Chavez wanted to take me out to dinner?
How bizarre was that?
My mind scrambled for an excuse and, thankfully, I had one.
“I can’t. Buddy and Ralphie and I have plans,” I told him and it wasn’t a lie. We were going out to dinner and they were taking me to a drag show afterwards. They’d decided, after all that was my life, it was high time for me to start having fun.
“Then Monday. I’ll be here at seven,” Hector replied immediately and I opened my mouth to speak but he lifted the other hand, the one not holding mine (still!) and put his finger to my upper lip.
I stopped breathing again.
He took his finger away. “It’ll be casual; there’ll be no reason to put on your designer armor.”
Oh my God!
He knew about my armor! He even said it, straight out!
How did he know?
Oh… my… God!
Before I could figure it out or ask or get over my panic attack, he murmured, “Monday. Seven.”
Then he squeezed my hand and he was gone.
I stared at the door for what seemed like forever and, finally, from outside I heard Hector’s voice say sharply, “Lock.”
I jumped to the door and threw the lock.
I put my ear to it and heard his boots on the steps outside and I stayed there even when I could hear them no more. After awhile, I turned toward the stairs and came to a jarring halt when I saw Ralphie sitting on one of them looking at me.
“How long have you been sitting there?” I breathed.
“Was up on the landing, listening to him ask you out. Came down after he left,” Ralphie replied.
“Ralphie, we need to talk about –”
“If you think we need to talk about how you don’t want anything to do with Hispanic Hottie then you need to think again, sweet ‘ums.”
“Ralphie –”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“Ralphie!”
He stood and looked down at me. “You deserve your little slice of happiness, you’ve waited long enough for it and worked hard enough to earn it and I’m gonna see you get it.”
Then before I could protest he turned and walked up the stairs.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
Darn.
Chapter Five
Screaming Orgasm
Sadie
“We are not watching YoYo,” Buddy snapped at Ralphie as he opened the door to the gay bar on Colfax and stepped back to let me precede him.
“We are so watching YoYo,” Ralphie snapped back, getting up close to me, putting his hands to my waist and crowding in behind me, shoving me through the door.
“No YoYo,” Buddy returned.
“Oh so YoYo,” Ralphie shot back.
I started giggling.
They were arguing about watching Bex’s black pug, YoYo. She was going on vacation and needed someone to look after her dog. Bex had brought her around that day so we could meet her.
Buddy didn’t like dogs but, on sight, Ralphie and I fell in love with the snorting, wheezing, teeny-tiny, squirming, adorable pug.
“We watch YoYo, you’re gonna start in on me about getting a damn dog again and I’ve made myself clear on this subject about a million times,” Buddy replied.
“Excuse me but I can’t wear the cute doggie sweaters I bought online. We have to get a dog so I can dress her up in those sweaters,” Ralphie threw in.
“I told you not to buy those sweaters. Why would anyone buy doggie sweaters when they don’t have a dog?” Buddy was losing patience.
“I love dogs. I’m always telling you a house isn’t a home without a pet. And anyway, I’m Queen Accoutrement, Expert at All Things Accessory. I need a dog. Dogs are the end all, be all, new, hip accessory.” Ralphie didn’t care that Buddy was losing patience (he never did).
They were now both behind me, propelling me forward and I was laughing straight out.
That was until my eyes adjusted to the dark light of the bar and I saw front and center at a bunch of tables pushed together all the Rock Chicks. Every one of them. Including a black-haired lady I hadn’t met.
And also including Daisy.
I stopped dead and the smile disappeared from my face.
Ralphie ran into me and said. “Sadie, sweets, get a move on, I need a cocktail.”
I didn’t get a move on. I stood rooted to the spot, staring at the Rock Chicks.
Then it hit me. They hadn’t seen me yet so I still had a chance to escape!
I was about to whirl when my eyes caught on something all the way across the bar.
Lounging, shoulders against the wall, was Lee Nightingale. Next to him, at first horrified glance, I thought was Hector. Staring in shock, I realized it wasn’t, it was someone who looked like Hector but was just a shade less rough around the edges. By the look of him he had to be related to Hector however. There was no way they weren’t blood.
The Rock Chicks hadn’t seen me but Lee and his companion most definitely did. Both of their eyes were locked on me and after a second Lee started to push away from the wall.
I decided it was time to go.
I whirled. “We have to go,” I said to Buddy and Ralphie.
They were both stopped just inside the door, looking down at me and I saw the surprise hit their faces.
“Go? Why? We just got here,” Ralphie said.
I put my hand to his chest and leaned in. “We have to go. Now. Just go.”
Ralphie resisted the lean, his eyes scanning the bar as Buddy asked me, “Are you okay?”
No, I wasn’t okay. But I wasn’t going to explain it, not now. Maybe I’d do it later, like tomorrow or, say, when I could explain it (which might be never).
I knew the moment Ralphie saw the Rock Chicks, I saw his face register recognition. He smiled over my shoulder then he waved.
I grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand down. “Don’t do that! Turn around and go!”
“What’s goin’ on?” Buddy asked.
“We are not going,” Ralphie said to me, his voice telling me he was digging deep into his battle trenches and when Ralphie dug in, Ms. Townsend, Ice Princess or even Sorceress of the Antarctic would never win the battle.
“What’s goin’ on?” Buddy repeated.
I didn’t give up. No, actually, I couldn’t give up. Too much was at stake.
“We’re going,” I said to Ralphie.
“Are not,” Ralphie returned.
“Are so.”
“Are not.”
“We’re going!” I yelled.
“What’s goin’ on!” Buddy shouted.
“Sadie,” Lee Nightingale said.
I looked to my left then up and saw Lee standing there.
Someone, please tell me Lee was not standing there.
Someone else, please tell me that Had-to-Be-Hector’s-Relative was not stand
ing beside him.
This stunk.
I dropped Ralphie’s wrist and turned to Lee.
Luckily, I wasn’t casual, barefoot and in a huge sweatshirt. I had on my armor. A bone-colored, pencil skirt, a matching, fitted, silk-knit turtleneck and a pair of lush, beige, spike-heeled Jimmy Choo boots. My hair was pulled severely away from my face but burst in a riot of waves and curls from the clip at my neck. I had a thick, heavy, pure gold bangle at my wrist and long, wide, gold hoops at my ears.
Barring the cast on my wrist it was the Ice Princess Outfit to end all Ice Princess Outfits.
Therefore, as I was unsuccessful at avoiding it, when the time arrived, I was ready.
“Lee,” I said, assuming Chill Factor Sub-Zero.
Lee ignored the Chill Factor Sub-Zero something, by the way, which was happening all the time these days and it was beginning to get on my nerves.
“How are you?” Lee asked, his voice not professional or cordial but warm and genuine.
“I’d be a lot better if people would stop asking me how I was,” I replied immediately and icily. “I got raped. Unfortunately, it happens every day.”
“Sadie!” Ralphie hissed angrily from beside me as I watched Lee flinch.
He actually flinched, like I’d slapped him across the face. Which, verbally, I had.
I was such a bitch.
My stomach clutched and if I didn’t get away I was going to start crying. And that could not happen.
I turned to Ralphie and announced, “I need a drink.”
Ralphie was having none of it.
He switched on the attitude, complete with hand on hip and clipped, “What you need to do is apologize to Mr. Hot Guy here.”
I glared ice daggers at Ralphie but he didn’t back down.
“Fine,” I declared, giving up in order to get away. “I’ll get my own fucking drink.”
Then without looking at Lee or Hector-Relative-Guy, with back straight and head held high, I walked to the bar.
I stopped at the bar telling myself I could do this. This was a walk in the park for me. I’d survive this and whatever next torture life had to offer me. I could survive it all.
The bartender asked me what I wanted and I told him, “Three lemon drops. No wait! Four.”
I was going to double up. I’d need serious vodka flowing through my veins to get through this night. And get through the night I would.
Fuck them. Fuck them all. Fuck the world!
“What was that all about?” Buddy asked from beside me and I looked at him then over my shoulder toward the door.
Ralphie was talking to Lee and Hector-Relative-Guy and now Indy and Daisy were with them.
Darn.
I turned back to the bar.
“That was Lee Nightingale,” I informed Buddy.
“I know, after you played the screaming-bitch-from-hell and flounced away, he introduced himself,” Buddy replied.
I looked at Buddy. “The Lee Nightingale. The one I asked to help me before I got attacked.”
Buddy’s face went gentle and he said, “I know who Lee Nightingale is, I remember your story, every word of it, sweetheart.”
I nodded once and, holding close to the bitch in me, I said, “Well, there you go then.”
Buddy stayed silent for a second then he told me, “The man with him is Eddie Chavez, Hector’s brother.”
Oh, well, that was just great. He couldn’t be a far removed cousin, noooo, he had to be Hector’s fucking brother.
“And?” I clipped, looking back to the bartender as he started putting glasses in front of me.
“Sadie, it’s Buddy you’re talking to. Set the bitch aside.”
At his words I swallowed. Then I took a deep breath and turned back to him.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled.
“You want to go, we’ll go,” Buddy offered.
I picked up a lemon drop and took a sip. Then I sighed.
“We’ll stay for a drink.” Or two, I thought. “Then we’ll go.”
“Whatever you want, but Sadie?” I looked back to him and he started talking again. “He regrets not helping you. It’s written all over him. You let him think he deserves to feel that regret then you aren’t who I thought you were.”
He was right. I knew he was. Furthermore, if I let Lee think he was somehow to blame for what happened to me, I wasn’t only not who Buddy thought I was, I wasn’t who I wanted to be.
I couldn’t meet Buddy’s eyes then, because I had to, because this was Buddy, I whispered, “I can’t help myself sometimes, you know, being a bitch. It’s a defense mechanism. I needed her, since my Mom went away, I needed her, the Ice Princess, to get through –”
Buddy’s hand slid along my shoulders and he got in close before he interrupted, “I know.”
I leaned into him while the bartender finished our lemon drops then I paid for the drinks. When I was done, Buddy turned us to face the room.
I chanced a glance at the Rock Chick table and I knew they knew I was there. Only Shirleen’s eyes were on me but my presence was no longer under the radar.
My eyes moved to Ralphie and he, Lee, Eddie, Indy and Daisy were standing further in from the door and they had been joined by a man I hadn’t noticed before. He was huge, no, enormous, with wild, blond hair and a thick, russet beard. His eyes were on me as the others around him were talking. And, I could swear, as they all talked, I could see in the dim light of the bar his face was getting red.
Then it got redder. Then it got even redder.
Then abruptly he detached from the group and stomped over to me. There were people in his way but they scattered upon seeing his big bulk heading their way and he cut a swath through the crowd straight to me. He stopped in front of me and looked down at my face.
“You look like a fairy princess,” he boomed, yes, boomed, his voice was so loud it filled the noisy bar.
People turned our way. I stared up at him, not knowing what to say to that strange opening remark and way too shocked to even consider pulling out the Ice Princess.
I decided “thank you” would be appropriate so that’s what I said.
“I’m Tex,” he announced.
I guessed (and was surprised by the fact) that this was Indy’s barista.
“I’m Sadie,” I told him.
“I know who the fuck you are. I also know, given the chance, I’m gonna snap that motherfucker’s neck,” Tex returned.
This time I guessed he was talking about Ricky. If someone told me that I would be having this conversation, I would have expected that, at his comment, I would be embarrassed. Somehow with Tex, I wasn’t embarrassed.
Now, how bizarre was that?
For some reason, I smiled. And then I tried on New Sadie just to see how she fit.
“You make good coffee,” I told him, held my breath and waited for his response.
“Anyone can make coffee,” Tex replied.
I pushed New Sadie though from his reply I wasn’t sure she was working for me. “Not like you. You’re a master.”
“Well, darlin’, you think I make good coffee, why the fuck haven’t I seen you at the store?” he asked.
“I –”
“Bullshit,” he interrupted me before I even got started.
Before I could think, my eyes narrowed. “What do you mean ‘bullshit’? You didn’t even hear what I had to say.”
“Whatever it was, it was gonna be bullshit,” Tex shot back.
It was then I heard Buddy laughing from beside me and I decided to stay silent. Really, what else could I do? This guy was crazy.
Tex turned to Buddy. “Who’re you?” he demanded to know.
“I’m Buddy, Sadie’s friend.” Buddy put out his hand.
Tex took it, they shook then Tex’s blue eyes turned to me, he leaned in then down, grabbed my hand and started dragging me across the bar.
Yes, dragging me across the bar.
“Excuse me!” I said to his back, trying to pull my hand from his and
not succeeding.
He looked back at me but kept walking as people jumped out of his way. “Tonight, you sit by me.”
“But –”
“No lip!” he boomed as he led us to the Rock Chick table.
Oh blooming heck.
* * * * *
There were some good things about the evening.
One, Tex positioned me in a chair at the end of the tables by him that was slightly away from the table (for better viewing of the stage) and thus not easily reached by the Rock Chicks.
Two, Ralphie was having a blast, it was clear he was becoming one with the Rock Chicks and I liked it that he was having a good time.
Three, although they all smiled at me when given the chance, none of the Rock Chicks engaged me in conversation. They couldn’t, I was too far away, not to mention, within five minutes of sitting and after Buddy and Eddie delivered the lemon drops, the show started.
Four, Daisy was at the opposite end of the table from me and even though I caught her watching me once, she looked away the minute I saw her (this wasn’t good, exactly, it made my heart hurt a little, but it was safe).
Five, drag shows were great. I loved them. All the glitz, glamour, makeup, fancy dresses with feathers and beads, accessories and big hair. It was fantastic. The minute the first Drag Queen came out (her name was Burgundy Rose and she was also the hilarious, sharp-tongued MC) and lip-synced Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On” with more diva gravitas than even Queen Diva Dion could, I was transfixed.
* * * * *
But there were also some bad things about the evening too.
First, Tex leaned into me when the second song began and boomed into my ear, “If there’s a shootout or somethin’, you stick with me.”
After he said this, I blinked at him not certain sure whether I should laugh and then I realized he wasn’t kidding. I didn’t laugh but I did surreptitiously scoot my chair closer to his.
Second, Hector showed up during the third Drag Queen who was singing “I Will Survive’.
Like a sixth sense, I looked to the door and caught him walking in.
He looked good, wearing a close-fitting, burgundy, long-sleeved t-shirt, jeans and boots. He still needed a haircut but somewhere along the line he had shaved and, if possible, he looked better than ever.