Chapter Seven
“Telling me to make sure I lock my doors is not filling me in Hector.”
I should have known I wouldn’t get any information from Mr. Lockjaw.
“Damn right it is,” he said giving me a sideways glance.
“How does Manuel know about the drug cartel? Does he work narcotics?”
Hector kept his eyes on the road and said nothing.
“Hector? Come on…I’m worried about this,” I said hoping the victim route would work on him. “It’s not exactly easy to hear a drug cartel is pissed at you for something you know nothing about.”
He looked at me and sighed. “Goldie there ain’t nothing to worry about. Manuel said he would take care of it and he will.”
I knit my eyebrows together. “When did he say that?”
“You heard him,” he said.
When?
“I did not hear that,” I persisted.
“Girl, are you deaf or something? He said he’d be around.” He clucked his tongue. “Shit you don’t hear nothing.”
“He doesn’t even know me.”
“He knows we’re partners,” he said. “And he don’t want someone like you to get messed with by people like them.”
“So Manuel is a cop?”
Hector rolled his eyes. “Who the fuck cares what he is? Does it really matter?”
He was hiding something.
“I care. Now spill it,” I said narrowing my eyes.
Hector looked over at me for a beat then turned back to the road not saying anything.
“Is he a fed?”
Silence.
“DEA?”
Nothing.
“You’re not going to answer me?”
He started to rub his temple. “Looks that way don’t it?”
Ugh. “Why? What’s the big secret? Why can’t you tell me? How does he know about Emil and Fidel?”
He rubbed his temple harder. “Girl, if they gave a gold medal for asking questions, you’d fucking win.”
“I’m hoping out of frustration that you’ll answer at least one.”
Hector grimaced. “Damn. I was already fucking starving and now I have a headache.”
We pulled into Harry’s parking lot. I said good bye to him feeling somewhat guilty about my barrage of questions.
“Take some aspirin when you get home,” I suggested.
He grumbled something about medicine being for pussies and waited for me to get in my car so he could follow me home. My car vibrated all the way down Sunset. I waved to him when the building gate opened. He tooted his horn that played a mariachi song back and waved out his window.
When I pulled into my parking spot I decided being babied by Jeff and Jason was exactly what I needed. I slumped back in the elevator and checked my phone to see if Bryan had messaged. Nothing. I groaned and shoved the phone back in my pocket. We hadn’t gone a whole day without talking in six years. It felt weird like I had lost something, but didn’t have a clue where to find it.
I stomped down the hall wanting one of Jeff and Jason’s lemon drop martinis in the worst way and knocked on their door. I dragged myself inside and plopped down on one of their huge armchairs in the living room then unloaded on them the day’s events.
“What?” Jason asked apparently confused.
I slurped down the martini in my hand and held out the glass for another. “I’m not going to repeat myself until you get me another one of these.”
Jason gingerly walked into the kitchen. His butt was still swollen, but at least it didn’t look like it was from a different species anymore. Jeff was lying on his stomach across from me on the sofa with his butt somewhat deflated as well.
“Here,” Jason said passing me another lemon drop martini. “Now tell us again what happened.”
I took a big gulp feeling the warmth go through me. “Bryan isn’t talking to me and those guys that broke into my apartment are in a drug cartel and they think I stole something from them.”
“Well darling you’ve been busy,” Jeff said clicking his tongue at me.
I rolled my eyes. “Tell me about it.”
“Bryan will be back,” Jeff said. “I give it another week.”
Jason nodded. “Absolutely. And you’re one lucky girl because his butt is totally delicious looking. God, I hope mine will look like his when the swelling goes down. You were such a fool to turn down that gorgeous piece of ass.”
Jason always had to remind me how dumb I was not saying yes to Bryan’s proposal. Sometimes I thought I was too, but then I remembered how crappy it was to always feel like I was letting him down.
“I’d hate to see what kind of cartel would let those guys in,” Jeff said taking a sip of his martini with his pinky finger stuck up in the air.
“I bet it’s a hairy and ungroomed one,” Jason added.
“Having a drug cartel mad at you isn’t good,” I said. “Even one who lets in stinky guys with a lot of chest hair.”
Jason laid on the ground slurping his martini with a pillow propping up his ass. “Honey if those guys…what were their names?” He asked looking at me for help.
“Fidel and Emil?” I answered.
“Yes,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “If those hairy apes are the best they have to offer then you have nothing to worry about.”
“He’s right,” Jason said. “Even if we hadn’t come in you could have taken them.”
I shrugged. Maybe I could have. They seemed only good at pulling hair.
“What do they think you stole?” Jason asked.
I took a gulp of my martini. “I don’t know. I certainly didn’t take anything. I was afraid to touch anything in their car.”
Jason made a face. “I don’t blame you. I hope you used the antibacterial wash I gave you for your key ring.”
My key ring gift was the one time Jason overrode style for practicality. He was a germaphobe and constantly worried about contamination.
“I practically bathed in it,” I said gulping down the rest of my martini.
“Thank God,” Jason said. “Their cologne stink took me ages to get off.”
I held out my glass to Jason. “Another please.”
Jeff and Jason gave each other a look.
“What?” I asked.
“You want another?” Jason asked skeptically.
“Yep,” I said trying not to sound as tipsy as I was feeling. “You two have a problem with that?”
After the past couple of days I earned a third martini.
“Okay, but I don’t want to hear complaints about your head in the morning or how dry your skin is,” Jason said heaving himself up off the floor and taking my glass.
“Wait sweetie,” Jeff said to Jason. And he emptied his glass and held it out for a refill. “A true friend doesn’t let their friend get drunk alone.”
I gave him a big smile. Then we both looked expectantly at Jason.
I really didn’t care one way the other, but it was fun to see Jason in a moral quandary. He sighed then picked up his glass and chugged it down. Jeff and I clapped and did the wave while shouting, “Go Jason.”
Obviously the lemon drops had already taken effect.
Two more martinis later and we were all on the ground. I had a pillow propping up my head and they had pillows under their asses.
“Maybe you should call Bryan and ask him what the hell is up,” Jason slurred. “I mean it’s not like you’ve changed or anything. You’ve always been nutty. Why should he expect anything else? To not be your friend is low.”
“I’m not calling,” I said. And what’s up with the nutty comment?
Even in my fuzzy state I knew calling Bryan drunk was not a good idea. Last year Jason decided to experiment on Jeff and me with his new recipe for low calorie margaritas. After several pitchers they had me convinced I needed to cleanse my soul.
I ended up calling my younger brother and confessed how I had scrubbed his toothbrush around in the toilet
as revenge for selling my underwear to his friends. He was so grossed out he went to the doctor convinced he had a mouth disease. Thanksgiving that year was definitely more interesting than usual.
“Yeah, you should call him,” Jeff agreed. “Jason is right. You’ve always been crazy. What’s different now?”
“Hey thanks a lot,” I said sitting up and looking between the two of them.
If they were saying this I must be a totally insane. They were hardly the poster boys for mental health. Maybe Bryan was right?
“That’s not a bad thing,” Jeff quickly explained.
“We love that you’re nutty,” Jason agreed.
That sounded a little better. At least I think it did.
“So it’s a good thing?” I asked.
“Um hmm,” Jeff said taking another sip out of his drink.
“At least you’re never boring sweetie,” Jason said. “I abhor boring. Detest it.”
“I think someone here can’t hold his liquor,” Jeff said in a sing song voice and held up his hand trying to secretly point at Jason.
“I can see what you’re doing,” Jason said getting annoyed. “And if you recall I wasn’t the one who threw up sangria all over our new three thousand dollar rug.”
Jason could sometimes go bi-polar on us especially after a few drinks.
Jeff started laughing remembering. “What’s the big deal? The stain came out didn’t it?”
I cringed knowing what was coming. Jason took his cleaning very seriously.
“It only came out after I spent two hours on my hands and knees scrubbing with club soda,” he stood up and slammed his martini glass on the coffee table. “You don’t appreciate me. Here I am washing your ass every day and rubbing cream on it to make sure it doesn’t get infected. And do you care? No.”
I stood up mumbling something about needing to get up early for work and made a quick exit. I knew after hearing the words ‘ass washing’ it would only go downhill from there. When Jason lost his temper there was usually a lot of yelling and recriminations and Jeff telling him he was over reacting and needing to calm down.
Instead of going back to my apartment I headed out the front door of the building and started to walk to the liquor store. I knew my cupboards were empty and after five lemon drop martinis I had the munchies. The good thing about being drunk was I forgot about calories, carbs or getting fat. I just went straight for my comfort food of choice, which usually was chocolate anything.
As I rounded the corner to turn on Santa Monica a familiar looking black Ferrari pulled up to the curb. I looked over and saw two blurry figures coming my way. I blinked several times trying to get my eyes to focus and see past the martinis. Then I saw a swath of gold buried deep in a mound of chest hair. It was Emil and Fidel.
“You’re going with us bitch,” Emil said.
Not this again.
Fidel nudged his arm.
“I mean you big…uh… pussy,” Emil quickly corrected himself.
Fidel and I looked at each other and sighed. Emil saw our expressions and immediately tried again.
“You…cunt,” he blurted out obviously pleased with himself hoping for shock value. He looked to Fidel and me for approval.
I crossed my arms in front of me and Fidel shook his head.
“What?” Emil asked us. “That is a big insult. No?”
“I don’t know why, but it doesn’t sound degrading enough,” Fidel said.
“How is that possible?” Emil asked his voice getting louder. “I used the worst of the degrading words for women.”
What an idiot.
“It’s not the word,” I explained. “It’s the delivery.”
Fidel snapped his fingers delighted with my answer. “Yes. That is it. You sound childish when you say it. Ridiculously so.”
I nodded and patted Emil on the back. “Maybe you should stick with the word bitch. It seems like it’s the only one you’re good at,” I said agreeing with Fidel.
“That is not true,” Emil whined. “I am good at all the degrading words…you…um…whore.” Then looked at us with his hands up in the air, with a ‘you see’ look. We both shook our heads disgusted with his latest attempt. Emil pursed his lips together and glared.
“Enough. You…um…person are going with us,” he said.
I shot my eyes to the Ferrari.
“How? You only have two seats?”
It was like a light bulb went off in both of their heads. They looked at each other in shock and started yelling at each other in French throwing their arms up in the air.
My buzz was starting to wear off and they were giving me a headache. I’d rather listen to Jeff and Jason argue, at least I understood what they were saying. I started to walk away then stopped remembering about the drug cartel. Maybe I could find out from them what’s going on.
“Will you two stop,” I said loudly trying to be heard over their yelling.
They ignored me and started giving each other little shoves that I recognized from my brothers as the beginnings of a full scale fight. I got between them and yelled, “Stop.”
They were still trying to give each other little pokes, but I pushed them further apart.
“What?” Fidel asked.
“Yeah what is it…bitch?” Emil said proudly.
I sighed loudly and gave him the death stare.
What an ass.
Fidel slapped his arm. “For all that is good in the world will you stop with that?”
Emil growled and slapped him back. Fidel returned the slap and they were back to the shoving thing. I stepped between them again and pushed them apart. “Knock it off.”
They stopped and looked down at the ground ashamed.
My buzz was definitely wearing off. Damn. And my calorie and carb awareness was starting to come back with a vengeance. Now I wasn’t going to enjoy my self-medicating comfort food.
“You two need some serious help,” I said when they peeked up at me. “Listen I did not take anything from your car when I repoed it. So you can leave me alone and go back to whatever you two normally do.”
Hang out and braid each other’s chest hair?
They gave each other a look.
“What?” I asked.
“We don’t believe you,” Fidel said. “It was there before you took the car.”
“And even if we did believe you we’d still have to hurt you,” Emil added. “We already told our boss about your stealing and he was very angry.”
I started to feel nauseous.
“Better he’s mad at you than us,” Fidel said.
“What do you think I took?” I asked starting to feel a little desperate.
“We can’t tell you,” Emil said.
“If you think I already have it than why won’t you tell me,” I asked.
Neither one answered me. Instead they exchanged nervous glances.
“We can’t,” Emil said.
“Why?” I pressed. “What difference would it make?”
“Just get in the car,” Fidel said. “You can sit between us. If you fight us we’ll put you in the trunk.”
Emil grabbed my arm and tried to drag me towards their car. I pulled my arm away and stomped on his foot making him yelp out in pain.
Fidel lurched forward and tried to wrench my arms back, but I shoved my knee hard into his privates making his eyes roll into the back of his head. He crumpled to the ground, making a make-shift cup over his balls and whimpered. With him incapacitated I took off down the street with Emil in fast pursuit. When I shifted right and ran into the alley behind the dry cleaners I could hear him huffing behind me. A white sedan screeched to a stop right in front of us blocking our path. I started to panic thinking it might be their reinforcements. I was relieved when I saw Manuel get out of the car. The expression on his face made Hector look like a wimp. Apparently Emil thought he didn’t look very friendly either because the huffing behind me suddenly stopped. I turned around and saw the back end of him d
isappear around the corner.
“Are you okay?” Manuel asked coming closer to me.
“Yeah,” I said. “Thanks for your help.”
He gave a barely perceptible nod.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked. “You’re looking kind of green.”
“No, really I’m fine.” I lied.
The five lemon drop martinis didn’t like being churned up by all the running and a wave of nausea rolled over me in protest.
“I’ll give you a lift home,” Manuel said eyeing me suspiciously not entirely convinced of my answer.
“It’s all right. I can walk,” I said.
I don’t want to puke in your car.
“You can’t walk home by yourself,” he said.
Oh yes I can. I might need to hack up and I don’t want you around to see it.
“Being out here alone at this time of night isn’t exactly being careful.”
“The five lemon drop martinis told me it was safe.”
I had a feeling he wasn’t just going to let me stroll home in the middle of the night after almost being kidnapped. I was sure there had to be laws about that in whatever job he had with whatever agency he was in.
One side of Manuel’s mouth tipped up into an almost grin. “Five?”
“Yep,” I said smacking my lips together.
“I need to take you home,” he said.
My stomach was still not happy.
“I think it might be better if I walk. I like the air.”
“The martinis?”
I nodded.
“Don’t move,” Manuel said.
I held up my hand letting him know I heard and moved to the side of the alleyway while he parked his car.
“We’ll walk then,” he said when he came back.
“Fine.”
I wanted to ask him all the leftover questions from earlier in the day, but as I was still on the verge of throwing up I stayed quiet. We walked side by side not saying anything. Manuel was certainly not one to make small talk. He would occasionally glance my way. I was sure he was watching my face turn a different shade of green with every step. I felt the martinis swirl and I started to feel warm.
When I reached the front of my building the lemon drop martinis decided to greet their makers. I leaned over and puked in the street knowing my neighbors would kill me if I barfed in their carefully planned garden. Afterwards I wiped my mouth with the bottom of my shirt feeling too shitty to even be embarrassed.
“Feel better?” Manuel asked.
“A little.”
“Are you done?”
“I think so.”
I had to be. It seemed like I threw up everything but my internal organs.
He held out his hand and did a ‘give me’ gesture. “Keys.”
I reached in my pocket and dropped them in his hand. He opened the front door of the building and went into the elevator. Somehow I wasn’t surprised when he pushed the right number for my floor or when he knew which apartment was mine.
“Wait here,” he said.
Normally I wouldn’t take kindly to being bossed around, but I was too tired and sickly to muster up any outrage. I presumed he was checking to make sure Fidel and Emil weren’t hiding under my bed. I wanted to tell him he needn’t have bothered because their cologne would have left a trail giving them away, but decided against it. Any amount of conversation would require more energy than I had in my reserve bank.
“It’s clear,” Manuel said motioning me inside.
I glanced around hoping my apartment was at least clean. Not bad. There was a minimal amount of mess.
“Are you going to be alright?” He asked scrutinizing my face.
“Am I still green?”
“No.”
“Then I’m good.”
He checked me out one more time. I prayed I didn’t have any residual barf on my face.
“Lock your door after I leave,” he said. “And no more midnight walks alone until all this blows over.”
“Gotcha,” I said attempting to wink, but ending up looking like something just flew into me eye. I was still drunk. The alcohol must have seeped into my pores and hung on for dear life.
He left and I locked the door. Then I plopped down on the sofa and dug my phone out of my pocket. I stared at it for a while tempted to message Bryan. I really missed him being around. But then I thought about what he said about needing a break for me. I didn’t blame him. Sometimes I wanted a break from me too. I put the phone on the coffee table and passed out.