When I spotted the shoes he brought, my heart warmed.
A black leather pair of ballet flats rested on the carpeted floor of the closet, and under the circumstances, I couldn’t have picked a more sensible style of shoe. I tried not to think too much about Julius and his thoughtfulness, but it was hard not to. When I slid them on, they were a little big, but maybe only half a size.
When I was as satisfied as I could be with my appearance, I walked out of the closet, careful to not put too much pressure on my injured foot. Julius stood from his seated position on the bed, noticed my limp immediately and frowned. “I forgot.” His mouth pursed. “It hurt a lot?”
Keeping my eyes on the ground at his feet, I reached up to place loose strands of hair behind my ear, and muttered, “Taking the packed gauze out of the wound wasn’t exactly fun.”
“No,” he stated, his tone gentle. “It wouldn’t have been.” He watched me closely a moment before he checked his wristwatch and sighed, “We have to go.”
He turned and left the room without speaking another word, leaving the door open behind him. I took it as an open invitation and followed like the pet I was.
I get to sit in the front of the black, scary-looking SUV this time around. And from the moment we are buckled up and ready to go, Julius starts lobbing rules at me.
Pressing a button on the driver side of the car, all the doors lock at once, and as the car is set into motion, Julius begins talking. “I don’t want you to misunderstand me, Alejandra, so it’s better if I tell you how this is going to go down. If you attempt to gain the attention of any passersby while we are driving, I’ll punch you so hard, right in the mouth, hard as I can, and you will pass out.”
I see. Not a violent guy at all.
That’s reassuring.
I remain silent as he goes on. “If you tell anyone in the outside world that you’ve been kidnapped, I will shoot those motherfuckers right in the head, right on the street, and let their deaths be on your conscience.”
Again, good to know. Not that I expected anything else.
“If you try to escape me—which would be foolish, to say the least—I will lock you in my closet without food or water up until the time you starve to death, at which point, I will deliver you to Vito Gambino and be on my way, back to living my life.”
Ouch.
That one stung a little.
He does not look at me the entire trip, just drives carefully with his eyes on the road. Eventually, the car slows to a crawl then stops completely in front of an old style redbrick bungalow. “You will not look at anyone. You will not talk to anyone. You will be polite, and you will not speak unless spoken to, understand me?”
“I understand,” I mutter reluctantly.
He nods, sighing lightly, looking somewhat reassured. “Good. That’s real good.”
Julius steps out of the car and walks around to the passenger door just as I move to step down onto my sore heel. I hiss lightly and lift my foot again to take the pressure off, but Julius is there before I can blink and lifts me down off the high seat of the SUV and lowers me carefully until both of my feet touch the ground together.
The soft scent of his aftershave has me near salivating. He smells divine. I swallow hard then blink up at him, his hands still clutching my waist, and mumble, “Thank you.”
He ignores my appreciation as much as he ignores my warm gaze and takes my hand, tucking it into the crook of his elbow. “Don’t put all your weight on it. Use me as a crutch.”
I’ve used people as a crutch my entire life, Julius. Don’t ask me to do the same with you. I’m afraid to.
Because I could definitely get used to using Julius as a crutch. And a fine crutch he’d make.
The gentle wind blows my hair into wretched snarls as we move in sync. We walk to the front door of the home in silence, because, quite frankly, there’s nothing more to say. He steps forward, lifting his finger to ring the doorbell. Choir bells chime in the distance and the door swings open.
A pretty, short woman with curves to kill and skin the color of melted chocolate gasps when she spots Julius. The jeans she wears look painted on, and the black, long-sleeved tee hugs her large bosom. The only thing out of place is her white and pink fuzzy bunny slippers. Her soft brown eyes are surrounded by long, thick lashes, and her long brown curls hang loosely to her hips. Her gaping mouth quickly turns into a smile. “You said you had work.”
His eyes crinkle in the corners as he replies, “I decided to take a break.”
The woman tips her head back and laughs heartily. “Best thing about being your own boss, I s’pose.” Her brow furrows and she places a hand on her thick hip. “You just gonna stand there?”
Julius smiles then, bright and blinding, folding the small woman into his arms and rocking her back and forth. The woman grips the back of his cool wool sweater tightly and makes a content humming noise in her throat as Julius cradles her to him, and I decide to hate her.
They pull away from each other, smiling like a couple of fools, and the woman looks kindly to me before turning back to Julius. “You gonna introduce me to your friend, Jay?”
Jay? Not only does she get his smiles, but she has nicknames for him too?
Yep.
Fuck her.
I feel his eyes on me as I stare blankly at the woman and he makes lame introductions. “Tonya, this is Ana. Ana works with me.” He waves his arm out between us. “Ana. Tonya.”
Tonya takes my hand and smiles hard. “Oh, do come in. What are you having? I can make just about anything. Coffee, tea? I have soda, or I could make some Kool-Aid.”
Julius fights a sigh. “Tonya, sweetheart…”
Sweetheart? Oh, now I’m fuming. The sad part is that I don’t even know why.
Yes, you do. You’re jealous. Pea green with envy.
I hate my brain sometimes.
Tonya cuts him off with a wave of the hand. “Don’t you ‘sweetheart’ me, brother mine.”
Brother m—
Wait a second now.
My head snaps up.
Did she just say brother? This gorgeous woman, this Tonya, is his sister?
She walks down the hall, and Julius holds out his elbow to me. I take it wearing a look of puzzlement, and Julius nudges me along. Tonya speaks to herself as she reaches the end of the hall. “I so rarely entertain. I wish you’d have told me you were coming, Julius. The house is a tip.” As we enter the kitchen, she is flushed, looking like a frazzled mess, and with apologetic eyes, utters to me, “I wasn’t expecting company.”
Jesus Christ, I’m an asshole.
Okay, so maybe I was a little hasty in my judgment. I want to make up for my mistake.
My iced-up heart melts at the sweetness of this woman. She wears her heart on her sleeve. I know Julius won’t like it, but I can’t help myself. I need to set Tonya at ease.
Forcing a smile, I remove my hand from his elbow, step away and lie to Tonya. “I hope you don’t mind me saying, Tonya, but you have a beautiful home. I can’t see any of the mess you’re claiming is around here somewhere. I’d love some tea.” In my friendliest tone, I utter, “Can I help out?”
“Why, thank you, Ana. You’re too kind. Chamomile okay?” The relief in her eyes is obvious, and her tight shoulders droop as she smiles in return. “Well, why don’t you get the water on and I’ll fix us something to eat.”
Tonya crosses the kitchen to the refrigerator while I take the empty pan off the stove, fill it with water and put it on to heat. I move to get a few of the mismatched mugs off the windowsill, when warm fingers grip mine, cocooning my small one, squeezing . His body moves in close to mine, his front brushing my back, the delicate warmth of him seeps into me. I close my eyes and breathe him in. A shiver flows through me as he places his lips at the shell of my ear and speaks on a hush. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Without looking back, I murmur quietly, “No,” I concede. “I didn’t.”
But I did. Not for his sake, or ev
en Tonya’s, but for mine. If there is one thing I have, it’s manners. And as I feel Julius’s large body retreat, I wonder how many days I have left to live, not meaning to, but hoping my good deed bought me one to spare.
Tension fills me as we leave my sister’s house a little over an hour later. The drive home is silent, a mild buzz of strain in the air. I don’t like the way Alejandra smiled when Tonya told her about how I look after her and Keke. I could almost see the spark of hope in her eyes. There was no need for it to ignite into a healthy flame. I quashed it with a muttered, “That’s because you’re family.” I turned to stare Alejandra right in the eye, with meaning. “I don’t give a fuck about anyone else.”
Her eyes held an emotion I couldn’t quite place, perhaps desperation or something akin to it. Alejandra kept quiet for the rest of our visit, as she was told, speaking only when spoken to, including when my sister’s face turned somber. “Ana,” she started, cupping her mug of tea, warming her hands, “you involved in all that badness my brother’s involved in?”