Chapter One #2
I lifted my head from Rex’s chest and glanced over at Roddy, one of the big bouncers who worked front of the house.
“Cachi?” he asked, as soon as he recognized me. “What happened?”
“These men were chasing your friend across the lot when I came out,” Rex replied, holding out his identification to show Roddy.
“FBI?” Roddy asked, looking at Rex with wide eyes. “Who called the FBI?” He glanced over at the men lying face down, bitching about being on the ground.
“No one called the FBI,” Rex reiterated. “It’s my night off. I was in the club. Like I said, I was just leavin’ when I heard Cachi callin’ for help. These three were chasin’ him.” He gestured at Terry and his panas.
Roddy nodded. “Oh, I see. Are you arresting them?”
Rex shook his head. “Night off. Just call the police and have ‘em come out. Let them know there are three suspects. They’re gonna need more than one squad car to transport them off to jail.”
“Jail?” Terry protested. He glanced at his crying friend, screwing up his face in anger. “Stop crying, Bobby.” He turned and sent Rex and me a hateful glare. “What did we do?”
I held up my hand to show them my injury. “You tackle me.” I turned to Rex. “After he tackle me, he was so jumeta—um…drunk—he fell on his face. Look at him.”
Rex glanced at the guy before nodding. “He tackled you?”
I nodded vigorously. “Si, Rex, and he no play games.”
Rex’s expression darkened as he turned to the bouncer. “They assaulted Cachi. Tell that to the police officers when you get hold of ‘em.”
“Sure,” Roddy said.
Rex loosened his grip on me, holding me out at arm’s length as Roddy pulled out his cellphone and began to dial. “Do you need an ambulance, sugar? How badly are you hurt?” he asked, looking me up and down to assess the damage.
I glanced down at my hand. “I no think is broken. I just—” I searched for words, lapsing into Spanish like I did when I was upset or tired. “Hiperextendi,” I said, taking a deep breath as I remembered my English. “Hyperextended my thumb.”
Rex frowned deeply and glared at the frat boys who turned away. “You fuckers hurt this man?”
Terry turned his head and sneered at us. “Shoulda killed the whore.”
Bobby elbowed him in the side. “Shut up, idiot. Didn’t you hear him say he was from the FBI?”
“Didn’t do anything wrong, Bobby,” Terry grumbled, looking at his friend in disbelief.
“Si! Rex is from the FBI and he’s my friend,” I said, moving closer to Rex.
His arms slid around me, pulling me back to tuck safely against his body.
I probably shouldn’t have yelled, and I’d wouldn’t have been so brave if he hadn’t been standing so close.
But I felt utterly invincible with Rex’s arms around me.
I’d never felt so protected or so lucky to have escaped harm in my life.
If the big cowboy hadn’t come out when he had, they might have caught up to me.
Rex held onto me until two police cars pulled into the parking lot a few minutes later.
The three guys were still kissing pavement and cursing up a storm as Rex explained what happened to the officers. One of the cops came over to speak to me after he and his partner locked the three idiota in the back of the police cars.
“Do you need medical attention, sir?”
I shook my head before saying to Rex, “No. Is not broken,” I repeated, wincing as I held up my hand and slowly flexed my fingers. My wrist and thumb throbbed. “Is bruise but I think is only a sprain.”
“You should see a doctor to get an x-ray, just in case,” he replied.
“I can’t,” I said, checking my watch and seeing it was after one in the morning. “Mierda. Is really late.” I glanced back up at Rex. “I need to get home. Mi mamá…she stay awake when I work late. She’s going to kill me.”
“Let me take you home, Cachi. I’ll explain what happened,” he offered.
I felt my eyes widen as I shook my head. “Dios mio, Rex. You no do that. She flip out if she find out what happen.”
He smiled softly at me. I was starting to love that look on his handsome face. “Flip out?”
“We’re gonna need you to come down to the police station to give a report, sir,” the officer said, interrupting.
I read the Hispanic name on his shirt patch and switched to Spanish, telling him how badly my mamá would react if she learned that I’d nearly been the victim of an assault.
“Then you need to come back tomorrow to give a report,” the officer replied in English. “It’s important that we get a statement while the incident is fresh in your mind, Mr.—”
“Adams…Cachi Adams.” The officer smirked and I knew why. Though I spoke perfect Spanish and was still learning English, my name was very white. “I was born in Puerto Rico, living on the island until five years ago. Adams was my father’s name.”
“I see…but that doesn’t change the fact that we still need you to come in to give your statement. You too.” The cop looked thoughtfully at Rex. “I suppose it could wait until tomorrow. Would you bring your boyfriend into the station in the morning, so you can both give us a formal statement?”
I opened my mouth to argue when Rex interrupted. “Of course. I’ll drive him there myself. Hollywood precinct?”
“That’s right.” The officer pulled out a business card and handed it to Rex instead of me. It irritated me to no end.
Rex took it, slipping it into his pocket as he nodded at the officer. “We’ll be there.” He shook his hand before looking at me. “Let’s go.”
I pulled away from him, frowning. “I drove here. I no leave my car.” Two officers were stretching police tape around the frat boys’ car and mine, right next to it. My heart sank as I looked at Rex.
He looked sympathetic. “Your car is the blue one?”
I straightened, lifting my chin. I loved my beautiful Thunderbird. “Yes.”
“It looks like it’s part of a crime scene, sugar. I think you’re gonna have to leave it parked in the lot overnight.”
I frowned. “Really?”
He nodded. “I’m afraid so. Let me drive you home.”
I sagged, feeling defeated. “All right. Let me grab my duffel and keys. I drop them when I was running.”
“Okay.” Rex walked by my side as we crossed the parking lot.
Droplets of Terry’s blood were on the ground next to my keys, and I shuddered.
I reached down and picked them up as Rex retrieved my duffel, a few feet away.
I watched how effortlessly he hooked it over his shoulder.
He smiled at me and stepped close, slipping his arm around my shoulders. “Come on.”
The warmth of his big, strong body was comforting.
It took everything in me not to pull away.
I felt helpless, like everything was out of my control.
I certainly didn’t like people making assumptions about me.
When Rex hadn’t contradicted the officer’s assumption that we were boyfriends and then taken the business card, I felt like things were spiraling out of my control. I hated that.
Besides, I knew nothing about this cowboy other than that he was a member of the federales.
When forced to admit it, though, I trusted him.
I couldn’t explain it. Most guys made me nervous since they usually had only one thing on their minds when they came on to me at the club.
It’s why I always try to laugh off their advances.
In my off hours, I was always cautious about guys, probably because of my experience with the club.
No one ever wanted to just get to know me.
They just wanted to find a way to get into my bikini briefs.
I couldn’t deny there was something about the big man that attracted me.
The cowboy was very handsome. He had a closely trimmed beard on a square jaw and military style, cropped, sandy blond hair which was very appealing.
Though he hadn’t come right out and said he was gay, I suspected he was.
Unless he hadn’t known Dance Hall Boys was a gay club, that is.
Also, he liked calling me by pet names like sugar.
He hadn’t said it in a putting down way like someone making fun of a gay go-go dancer.
The way Rex used it had been sweet, not bothering me at all.
The club did get many straight men and women, but they were usually there with their gay BFFs.
Sometimes, a group of women would come who thought it would be fun to ogle the guys dancing together and kissing on the dance floor.
Like it was funny to point and giggle over men who were kissing or being affectionate with each other like straight couples.
I tried to take it in my stride even though it bugged me.
I was surprised when Rex stopped us at an old car.
I hadn’t known what he’d drive—probably some huge truck, maybe with a pair of horns stuck to the hood and a ball sac hanging below the license plate.
I chuckled to myself as my imagination ran wild.
I tended to go off in my own world sometimes.
Still, it was always a bad idea to stereotype people.
I’d been a victim of it most of my life.
Rex’s car was big, but no horns. It was painted with green, peeling paint and plenty of gray primer in certain places.
He opened the door with a key rather than a key fob which probably hadn’t been invented when the car was made.
The door made a terrible sound as he opened it.
I smiled up at him as he returned it with a shy smile of his own.
“Ain’t the fanciest car in the world, but it runs great. Take a seat.”
I nodded, looking down at the floor of the passenger seat. “Should I just move that to the back?”
He snatched up the plastic bag. “Sorry about that. Let me move it for you.” When he opened it and looked inside, I caught a glimpse of pink lace and several bows before he quickly closed the bag and tossed it in the backseat.
I was certain he’d picked up something for a woman which puzzled me.
Maybe he wasn’t gay after all. I ignored the urge to open my big mouth and ask a question that was none of my business.
I climbed into the rolling wreck’s passenger seat and fastened my seatbelt as he closed the door for me.
He climbed in, folding his long, muscled legs into the driver’s side.
The car fitted him perfectly and not surprisingly, he looked good sitting there.
“What kind of car this is?”
He glanced over and grinned at me. “It’s a 1970 AMC Hornet.”
I’d never heard of it. “AMC?”
“American Motors Corporation. They went out of business decades ago…well, actually Chrysler bought ‘em.” He started the car with a roar. All I could do was grin.
“Well, it sound like it runs just fine.”
He nodded as he checked the rearview mirror and pulled out of the parking space. “It runs like a dream.”
I decided I should make small talk. “Why I never hear of American Motors?”
He glanced over at me, giving me an up and down look. “I’m pretty sure they went out of business at least a decade before you were born.”
He was probably right. “I’m twenty-five.”
He nodded. “I was right then. Still, I’d bet you know some of them cars AMC built even though you never heard of the company.
They built the Pacer.” He stopped in the driveway, looking back at me when I shook my head.
“The Gremlin?” I shook my head again, and he laughed right before pulling out onto Santa Monica.
“Don’t matter much.” He pointed the car west and said, “I never asked you where you lived.”
“Oh, si. I—ah, I live in The Valley. I should have tell you before you offer to drive me home. Is kind of a long way.”
He smiled. “I don’t mind. It gives me time to talk to you and get to know you better.”
I was surprised but hearing him say that gave me a warm feeling. “You want to get to know me?”
He turned and nodded, looking into my eyes. “Of course I do.”
“Oh, I…ah—”
Rex turned his attention back to the road. “That is, unless you don’t want me to know you better.”
I thought about it for all of ten seconds. “It would be nice to get to know you, Rex, and I flattered you want to get to know me. Is no every day that a handsome man swoop in and rescue me from bobos.”
He chuckled. “Bobos. I like that.”
I smiled. “It means idiotas.”
He snorted, reaching over and squeezing my fingers. I winced and squeaked slightly.
“Oh, shit. I forgot you hurt your hand.” He started to pull away, and I wanted to tighten my grip, but I was already gritting my teeth.
“Is fine. My wrist a little sore. Be okay in a few days.”
He frowned. “Okay.” He loosened his grip, but his fingers were warm and his hand was callused. I shivered, much the same way I had when I’d first touched him as he’d helped me down from the cage.
I swallowed hard, feeling that electricity between us that happened every time we touched. He made me feel sexy. “So, uh—” I searched for something to say. “You said I will be surprised by the cars AMC made.”
He grinned, keeping his eyes on the road as he nodded. “They were very popular but they were ugly as sin.” He laughed.
I shook my head. “I never hear of the—” I stopped, trying to remember the names he’d said. I smiled when a name popped into my head. “Pacer.”
He frowned a little. “You really are twenty-five. I forgot.” He shifted in his seat, suddenly looking almost uncomfortable. I wondered if my age bothered him for some reason. He cleared his throat. “So, tell me about yourself,” Rex said. “You’re from Puerto Rico.”
Safe topic. “Si. Mi papá and mamá get divorced five years ago. Then we come to the States.”
He smiled, keeping his eyes on the road as I studied his profile. “That’s where your nice accent comes from then.”
I laughed. “It’s horrible.”
He grinned at me. “No. And nor is your laugh. It’s one of them kind of infectious laughs that makes me wanna know what you’re thinkin’.”
The way he said that made me feel really good, better than I had in a long time. I looked back up at his profile. “Thanks, Rex. Is a nice thing to say. Most guys they no want to hear about my thoughts and if they do, they no want me to say them. I’m sure they wish I say nada.”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “Well, that’s their loss then.” He glanced over and winked.
My heart thudded in my chest as my mouth went dry. This big, tall cowboy was doing crazy things to my heart.
And I was very sure, I was in big, big trouble.