Isabel
Isabel summed up her valedictory address with a smile. She glanced at her father who was behind the video camera that sat on a tripod just below the stage. He stood tall and proud, clapping. Her mother and siblings stood with everyone else, to applaud the speech she’d worked on for weeks. The immense relief of getting it over with was more than reward enough.
The last month and a half, she’d been a wreck. The only one of her siblings who hadn’t made Valedictorian was her brother Art, but then he’d gone to a highly regarded military school, and had graduated with honors, so that seemed acceptable enough. Isabel had struggled the last few months with her AP classes becoming increasingly difficult. She was so worried that her scores on her finals wouldn’t be enough. As relieved as she was that this was finally over, she knew this was only the beginning.
Both her oldest sister Pat, and her brother Art were following her father’s example and going into law. Her father was a criminal judge. Her other sister, Gina, had just transferred to Cornell, and knew before she even graduated from high school that she’d be majoring in civil engineering.
Isabel was still undecided about her major. Her mother had been a schoolteacher for years before being diagnosed with breast cancer a few years ago. Thankfully, she’d beat it. Even after the chemo taking so much from her mother and her father insisting she not go back to work, her mother insisted she had to.
Growing up, Isabel heard all the stories her mother told her about her students. She seemed to revel in it and even though her dad often made cracks about how unappreciated teachers were for all the hard work they did. Isabel noted how he never came home speaking fondly of his day at work, like her mother did so often. As much as her sister was pushing for her to go into law—maybe someday between them they could start their own firm, Isabel’s heart was leaning towards her mother’s first love—teaching.
After the ceremony, they went out for a swanky dinner in Laguna, at one of her dad’s favorite restaurants. A few of her friends had mentioned getting together later that evening to celebrate, but Isabel had plans early the next morning. Even though she was attending the University of San Diego, just over an hour away from her home in Laguna Beach, she would be staying in a dorm. Even more than her parents, her sister Pat that had always pushed her to excel. She did it all through grade school and high school. Unlike her brother, who was going to Loyola, Pat was studying close by and living at home. Isabel needed to get away. Already, because of their insistence, and because none of them had taken the summer off after high school, she was enrolled in summer school. Both her father and sister Pat had been hammering at her for months now, “Knock it out, no sense in wasting time.”
So tomorrow was orientation and her summer classes started in a week.
“I’m really proud of you, Isabel.” Her father squeezed her hand during dinner. It was rare for her father to say anything heartfelt. It almost brought a tear to her eye.
“Yeah,” Pat added, “and you were worried about not making Valedictorian.” Her sister rolled her eyes. “I knew you had it in you, Bell, you just have to believe in yourself more.”
Isabel smiled. “I’m just glad it’s over.”
“Now the real fun begins,” Gina said. “College life and college men.” Her eyebrows bounced up and down.
Her mom chuckled. “Just don’t get too caught up in that stuff and let your grades slip.”
“I won’t.” Isabel couldn’t even imagine getting caught up in that. She had one boyfriend all through high school. The rest of the time, she spent most of her weekends studying and reading. Just like tonight, while everyone else was out celebrating graduation, she’d be hitting the hay early.
“Art, I thought you were bringing Sabrina to dinner tonight.” Her mom said, taking a sip of her wine.
Art shrugged. “Changed my mind.”
“Why?” Her mom asked.
“Is she still working at the Quick-Mart?” Pat asked, with a smirk.
“She’s putting herself through school, Patricia.”
Isabel chewed slowly, taking in the glare her brother gave Pat.
“It was just a question.”
“Yeah, well those kinds of sarcastic questions are the reason I didn’t want to bring her.”
Pat’s eyes opened wide as if his comment surprised her. “It’s nothing personal, Art. You should know by now, no one will ever be good enough for my little brother, least of all some trailer trash working at the Quick-Mart.”
“Pat,” her mother warned.
“I’m just—”
“Oh, but that arrogant asshole you’re dating—”
“Hey!” Her mom reached over and swatted Art on the back of the head. “I will not have that kind of language at the dinner table.”
“Your mother is right,” her father added, “lower your voice and apologize to your sister.”
Art apologized through his teeth, though it was anything but sincere. That pretty much ended any mood for small talk between her siblings. Her father asked Gina about her flight itinerary. Everyone agreed to keep their schedules open to be there to see her off since she’d be gone for months. Isabel never understood why Gina had chosen to go so far to school. As much as her family could drive her nutty sometimes, they meant the world to her and she’d miss them terribly if she was ever away from them for that long.
Even now that she’d be staying at a dorm, she was still close enough that she could drive back on a whim if she ever needed to.
CHAPTER 2
The Real World
Romero
Now that he was eighteen, Romero could be a doorman at his uncles bar. He knew they expected him to be there for good, eventually graduating into working inside when he turned twenty-one, but that wasn’t in his plans. He’d let them down easy when the time came, but for now, he’d enjoy the dancers and waitresses so easily accessible to him.
After high school, he continued to work out, maintaining the physique needed to man the door for unruly drunks who wanted in or needed to be thrown out. He’d been working there all summer.
Romero enjoyed the job. It gave him the experience he needed for what he was planning. While his friends would all be in college, he was doing his own prerequisite work. For years, he’d thought about possibly becoming a cop, then making detective like the ones he saw in movies and on television. But he decided not to go that route. He hated being on a schedule. That was the same reason he decided college wasn’t for him. Unlike Angel and Eric, he barely managed to stay eligible to play football during high school. It wasn’t that the classes were too hard for him. He just never really cared enough to pull top grades.
He’d already knocked out the joke of a test he needed to be licensed as a security guard. Not that his uncles required it, it was just step one of the goals he’d set for himself. Just like the sparring and grappling he’d taken up practicing for over a year now with some of the guys at the gym who did mixed martial arts.
Romero walked into the front room. He could hear Manny in the kitchen with Aida. “I put four meats in Max’s sandwich, sugar.” Aida said. “How many do you want in yours?”
“How ‘bout I put my meat in you.” Manny said, making loud kissing noises and Romero knew his uncle was attacking his girlfriend in the kitchen. Again.
Aida screeched then laughed loudly. Romero frowned. He was seriously going to have to get his own place. “Hey! I could hear you in here!”
“Well cover your ears ‘cause it’s about to get louder.”
He heard Aida laugh, then snort. Romero laughed. Sick bastard. He sat down on the sofa and grabbed the remote. “You want me to fix you a sandwich, Moe?” Aida asked.
“Nah, I’m good. Thanks.”
Max walked out of the hallway with a newspaper under his arm. “I have the squirts.”
Romero didn’t even look at him, just shook his head, staring at the television. “I need my own place now,” he muttered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
His uncle walked toward the kitchen. “Don’t we have medicine for the shits?”
Romero tried concentrating on the reality show on criminal investigations. But his uncles, as usual, were too loud.
“It’s in the bathroom,” Manny said.
“No it’s not, I didn’t see it.”
“It’s right there in the cabinet. I had the shits the other night, too. I took some.”
“I’m telling you it’s not there.”
Romero turned off the television and headed back to his room, trying to ignore his uncles, who were still arguing about the shit medicine on their way to the restroom. Manny walked in first. “Holy mother of fuck!”
“I told you, I’m sick! What did you expect, roses?”
“Well, can you open a ga-damn window for the love of Christ!”
Romero rushed by the open door, holding his nose. “And you left your splatteration all over the toilet, you sick fuck!”
“I couldn’t find the brush to clean it!”
The whole neighborhood could probably hear them, especially since his uncle had made such a racket opening the bathroom window. His uncles told him months ago that it was okay if he wanted to bring girls home to spend the night—he was a man now. Yeah, he really wanted to bring a girl home to this shit.
Romero grabbed his phone off the dresser. He had a text from Angel’s older brother Alex.
Working out in 20 min at the gym.
He’d sent it ten minutes earlier. Romero grabbed his gym bag and swung it over his shoulder. He squeezed his nose as he walked by the open bathroom door. Max was in there scrubbing the toilet.
“I’m outta here, Max. See you tonight.”
He walked through the kitchen to get to the back door. Manny and Aida were eating at the table. “Where you going?”
“Gym.” Romero took an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter and bit into it.
“I wanted to talk to you.”
Romero stopped at the door and turned around. “So talk.”
“Did you bang that new girl, Cici, already?”
Romero smirked, “Not yet.”
“She’s got a crazy-as-shit boyfriend.”
“And?”
“Stay away from her. I don’t want any trouble.”
Romero laughed and opened the back door. “All right, Manny. Whatever you say.”
What a joke—this guy’s girl was working at a titty bar. What did her boyfriend expect? She wasn’t even all that, but now things were interesting. Manny should know better than to tell him to stay away from someone. What little interest he had in the girl, which was close to zilch, had suddenly spiked.
***
With summer officially over, the nights were beginning to take on a chill. Romero stood in front of the bar, wishing he’d worn a long sleeve shirt instead of a tank. He hadn’t worked the last two nights, but his uncles had filled him in on Cici’s boyfriend showing up and sitting at the bar while she worked, then trying to attack a guy who got friendly with her. He’d been thrown out and he wasn’t allowed to come back when she was on duty. His money was still good when she wasn’t there.
Cici had smiled at him tonight when she got there. Just like the first few times he’d seen her, he got the distinct feeling her eyes were saying more than her mouth was when she said hello. He was used to it. All these chicks were suffering from daddy-didn’t-love-me syndrome. They were looking for love in the worst of places. He almost felt sorry for them.
He took some solace in knowing that while he’d never promised any of these girls more than a few moments of pure unadulterated fun, he always made sure they were as satisfied as he was. Not that it was important to him really, but nothing turned him on more than to hear a chick moaning in pleasure. Not the fake kind either. He knew the difference. There was no faking the trembling and the out-of-control heartbeat. Hearing and feeling their euphoria was the fucking best.
Cici walked out the door and gave him that smile again. Her perfume was overpowering, as usual. “Break time?”
“Yeah.” She worked the lashes.
No question about it—this was going to happen. “What are you gonna do?”
“Sit… in my car.”
Romero glanced around the parking lot. “Which one’s your car?”
Cici pointed to the furthest end of the dark parking lot. Perfect.
“Mind if I join you? It’s about time for my break, too.”
“Sure.” Her smile stretched out even more.
Romero radioed in that he was taking a break. In less than two minutes, another security guy came out to cover for him. Never one to beat around the bush, Romero touched Cici’s dark hair as they walked to her car. With the roots showing, he could see it was obviously dyed. “You don’t like the blonde?”
“I change it all the time. I get bored.”
They reached her car. Cici stood against the driver’s door and stared at him. Aware of the time constraint, and not the least bit unsure of what she wanted, he leaned in and kissed her. His uncle’s words rang in his head. Stay away from her. All the motivation he needed. He smiled against her mouth.
As expected, she didn’t protest, instead she opened her lips, welcoming his tongue. He took her face in his hands and kissed her deeper, pushing his body against her. Her hands pulled his shirt out of his pants with an urgency even he wasn’t feeling yet. This was even easier than he’d thought. She started to undo his belt. Instinct made him look up. A guy stalked toward them, his furious eyes bouncing from Cici to Romero.
“Cici, is that you? You fucking bitch!”
Cici froze. “Oh shit.”
Romero didn’t pull his body away from her. “Is that your boyfriend?”
“Oh my God,” she whispered, “yes!”
Romero smirked, taking a step back. “It’s cool, you’ll be fine. What’s his name?”
“Freddy.”
“Get the fuck away from my girl,” the guy yelled as he got closer.
He wore a dirty mechanic’s uniform. Romero had been around enough drunks to know the guy had been drinking. He lifted his hands in the air and smiled. “You’re not supposed to be here, Fred.”
“Fuck you!” He pointed at Romero. “Cici, get your ass over here.”
Cici began to walk around Romero, but he put his hand on her shoulder, before she could get by. “She’s on duty.”
Fred charged at Romero. “I told you to get the fuck away from her.”
Romero grabbed his hand and spun him around, throwing him against the car. He held his arm behind his back. “You need to calm down, Fred.”
Fred squirmed but Romero held him tight. Romero frowned when he heard the voices and footsteps behind him. He was hoping this wouldn’t get back to his uncles. Fred stopped squirming. “You gonna be calm?”
The other security guys reached him. “You got things under control?”
“Yeah, we’re good. Right, Fred?”
Fred nodded, staring at Cici. Romero let go of him, and smiled at Cici, whose eyes still looked very frightened. In the next moment, he understood why. Fred backhanded her so hard she flew back more than three feet, hitting the fence behind her and fell to the ground, her purse spilling all its contents everywhere.
“You fucking cu—”
Before he could finish, Romero slammed his fist into Fred’s mouth, blood splattering all over. He got in a few more fists to Fred’s face, before being held back by the other security guards. More people spilled out of the bar and hurried toward them. Romero managed to free his arm and slammed another fist into Fred’s stomach. Someone caught his arm before he could hit him again. “That’s enough, Moe!”
Romero turned to face his uncle, feeling that familiar uncontrollable rage that had only gotten worse lately. “He hit her!”
His uncle turned to Cici, who was picking up her things from the ground. Fred looked up from where he’d doubled over after Romero landed one in his gut. Manny backhanded Fred one time.
“You fucking asshole!”
Cici walked around the car. “Get inside, sweetheart.” Manny grabbed Romero by the arm and began walking away. “Get him the fuck out of here guys. He comes back, have him arrested.”
“No, call the cops on his ass now!” Romero yelled.
Manny shook him. “Are you outta your mind? I call the cops now, they’ll take you both in.”
Romero yanked his arm away from his uncle, feeling an immense urge to go back and pound on Fred some more. Manny must’ve seen the look on his face. “Keep walking, boy. Keep that temper of yours under control, son, before it buries you. Don’t you even think about going back there.”
Cici’s sister picked her up at the end of her shift. She said she was going back to her sister’s and not the apartment she shared with Fred. Jesus, she lived with the guy. She looked too young to be in such a serious relationship. Although it was so serious, why the hell had she been moments from pulling Romero out of his pants? That whole night Romero tossed and turned.
She was a no-show the following two shifts. She called a week later to say she wasn’t coming back. Romero already knew it. Though she didn’t tell her uncle, he knew she’d gone back to Fred and he’d made her quit.