Chapter 20 - Santos #3
“It’s twice as much to watch a private dance, three times if you’re gonna bring any extra friends in blue.
” She chuckled, the pig sighed in annoyance, and she feigned knowing where she was going until we made our way behind a black curtain.
It was a small space, not a room, more like a dressing booth with three mirrors and a chair.
“Fuck. How are we going to get out of here?” She hissed in frustration; the excitement mixed with the effects of the E was causing a sheen of sweat to glisten over both of our bodies.
“We may need to wait them out in here.” I practically panted the words back to her, as I struggled to catch my breath even though she was the one who had been dancing for her life.
She nodded her head in agreement, our bodies practically touching from the forced proximity of the velvet draped booth. Each mirrored reflection showed me a side of myself I couldn’t stand to face, and a side of her I couldn’t dare ignore anymore.
“How do we almost get caught every time we’re in this city?” She giggled like the situation wasn’t severe at all, and I smirked at her attempt to downplay the moment.
“Maybe we’re cursed.” I whispered the words practically shooting them onto her lips while our chests still heaved up and down against each other from the adrenaline.
“Oh, I’m definitely cursed Santito, you should know that by now.” She chuckled but the shadow that cast over her eyes told me that she’d been through enough to truly believe that.
Fuck.
Maybe we were both cursed.
I wanted to grab her by the back of the neck and pull her in tighter. I wanted to lick those beautiful plump painted lips of hers and bite them until they bled for me. I wanted to push every thought of right or wrong away and give in to my crippled heart’s desire for her.
But I was the friend.
Not the man she dreamed of a happily ever after with.
That guy was my brother.
The guy who upheaved all his life’s plans for this girl, the guy who made sure she had a home and something to call a family after the world robbed her of everything she once had. The guy who worked hard as hell to make sure she had everything she could want or need.
I was just the miserable fuck who tagged along hoping for a scrap of her attention ever since she showed up at our door.
She peered through the crack in the curtain before turning back to me, “They’re finally leaving, I think we can leave from the front. You’ve got the product still?”
I nodded at her and she clasped her hand around mine, causing my heart to bunch up at the base of my throat. She pulled me out of the booth with her and marched straight towards the management that had been speaking to the cops earlier.
“Did they leave the same way they came?” She asked like she had no problem admitting they were after us.
“You should probably wait a little before heading out, I’m sure they’d love a reason to shut us all down.
You’re welcome to take the stage again meanwhile.
” The sleazeball draped in gold winked at her and I clenched my teeth together in anger to avoid lashing out at the person who helped us through this.
“Thanks.” She laughed out, “but I’m not much of a dancer, that is, unless the stakes are right.” She ignored his creepy attempt to recruit her and pulled out the cash she had stuffed into her bra.
“Can I pay you for your silence?” She asked him, and he pushed the money back towards her.
“Nah, you earned it. Think of it as an advance, a working interview of sorts. If you ever change your mind, that is. Ask for Saul.” He grinned from ear to ear until I could see the gold glittering from his back teeth again.
“Thanks Saul.” She laughed, keeping up her polite pretense and we made our way past the bars and patrons as we headed towards the front door.
I unbuttoned my shirt and handed it to her so she wouldn’t have to walk outside in her underwear and we both squinted from the shock of daylight invading our sights as I pushed the door open.
“Fuck, I forgot it was daytime.” She giggled again, and to be honest so had I. No wonder the club was more than happy to have us in there, for a Wednesday, that was probably the best show they’d ever had.
“I think I parked the truck a few miles east, let’s catch a cab.” I told her.
Once the taxi pulled up next to the black pickup truck, we piled into the front and a sigh of relief left us both. There was something exhilarating about getting into trouble with her, but even better was the calm that followed once we cleared out of it.
No sooner had I put the key into the ignition, but Cecilia’s head fell on my lap with an audible groan slipping from her lips.
I mentally told my dick to fuck off.
“That was good ecstasy. I’m crashing hard.” She said before closing her eyes, “Wake me up when we get to Ocean Valley?” She mumbled before dozing off.
The drive went tediously slow without her company to keep me occupied. With her sleeping head on my lap, it amplified my torture, my need to brush away the hair clinging to her face. My heart ached, and my mind tumbled fast into the swirling chasm of my own dark thoughts.
I turned the radio up to drown out the screaming in my head, but quickly turned it back down as she adjusted herself on my lap, threatening to wake.
How long could I keep this up?
How long could I live this way?
The tattoo on my temple was a searing hot reminder of all the good things I didn’t deserve, that I had no right to anything worthwhile or genuine. I was a lowlife reaper for an even lower cause, I was an unofficial gang member of an organization I’d spent my entire life running away from.
Guillermo dangled my younger siblings’ innocence and freedom right in front of me, like cherries ripe for picking.
If I wanted to keep them away from sin, I had to bathe myself in it. It was the only way.
I pulled into our apartment complex slowly, the sun setting in my rearview mirror. The drive from San Diego was always so tedious that we usually grabbed a hotel for the night, but I needed to lock myself in my room for the next few days and pretend like Cecilia Gomes didn’t exist.
Or that she didn’t have this effect on me.
Impossible lies.
And the only person I was fooling was myself, and maybe Ronan.
I turned the ignition, shutting the truck off as I gently shook her awake. She moaned sleepily but didn’t make any efforts to rise.
“We’re home,” I nudged her again, this time getting some movement from her as she lifted her head out of my lap and wiped some excess drool from her face.
“Sorry.” She laughed nervously like her spit was going to put me off.
She could have been covered in dog shit and she would have still been the most beautiful woman to have ever existed.
We climbed up the stairs that led to our floor and I unlocked the door. Zerkos was home for once and that was a surprise on its own.
“How’d it go? Wasn’t expecting you two till tomorrow.” He said, rising from the couch calmly as he looked between the two of us, his eyebrows furrowing together in the middle for a brief second as he noticed Cecilia wearing my shirt over her lingerie.
“Had some trouble, nothing we couldn’t shake.” She closed the distance between the two of them and gave him a sweet peck on the lips before disappearing into their room.
“Listen, uh—" I started but he interrupted me before I could complete the thought.
“Thanks for getting shit done, and thanks for keeping her safe, man. There’s no one else I could trust. We’re the closest thing to family she’s got.” He slapped my bare arm like he had no issue with the fact she was wearing my clothes, or how she ended up half naked to begin with.
Maybe he just trusted the both of us that much.
Maybe he shouldn’t.