Lovesick

Abel

We’re fucked.

I don’t know what else to think as we get rid of the cop car. I wipe away as many fingerprints as I can, mindlessly. I try to ignore the phantom sound of the bullet piercing that poor officer’s fucking skull.

Mira la loca , I hear the woman who fucked me up more than anyone else in the world call out from her place near the cruiser and I want to yell at her to shut the fuck up. But too much is already happening. I’m not inviting mami into the madness.

I’m out of my goddamn mind. And if that’s true, what’s Rose? Everything I knew she would be. Everything Dr. Brown warned me about.

Que tonto.

I drag the officer’s body toward the car and lift him into the trunk. I tell Rose to go back to the motel room, but she doesn’t. She stays and paces, stressing me the fuck out. And when she isn’t pacing, she’s staring at me. Like she’s trying to figure out what’s going on in my head.

But I have no fucking clue. All I know is this guy’s fucking brains are looking back at me and I’m doing shit I never thought I was capable of doing.

“Follow me in the Porsche?” I ask her once I get in the cruiser, thankful that the only lone car to pass on these backroads couldn’t see me past Rose, who’s standing on the driver’s side.

She nods, and I pull off, waiting for her to drive up behind me. Once she does, I take off, hating the thump of the officer’s dead body as I get back on the road.

I have no idea what we’re doing. All I know is I need to find a place to hide a dead body. We drive for a little until I see the edge of what I think is a river. I cruise around for a few minutes, trying to find the perfect place to dump the car. The Porsche inches behind me as I pull up to the lake’s edge, glad we’re covered by trees, and hop out of the car.

“I need a really big rock,” I announce as I start walking around. I never thought I’d be the kind of guy helping his girlfriend hide a dead body. A cop, at that. Sure, most cops were dicks, but he didn’t deserve this shit. He was just doing his fucking job.

She calls me over and I see a bunch of large rocks, not big enough for what I need, but I may be able to make it work. It takes a lot of sweat to gather them, piling them inside the car, but I do. I pop the trunk and part of me expects this guy to be up and ready to kick my ass, but he just looks like he’s sleeping—despite the hole in his head—as I take off his shirt. It’s a struggle and when Rose tries to help me I tell her to just wait in the car. I don’t need her fucking anything else up.

I close the trunk and start wiping everything I touched and once I’m done, I put the car in drive. I shove the rocks that’d been on the driver’s seat onto the gas and jump back as it takes off into the water.

The car isn’t submerged as it gets pulled down and Rose points that out.

“They’re gonna find that car regardless. This just bought us some time,” I inform her, reminding myself that suerte doesn’t exist. I need to get my head out of my ass and get us the fuck out of here.

I’m not some poor pendejo looking for luck anymore. I know luck doesn’t favor my kind. I just want Rose to get it in her head that we have to leave and never come back. I’m tempted to beg at this point.

The drive back to the truck is silent as she leads us back to the truck that I’m now late to return to the front desk attendant. I wasn’t planning on having to hide a dead body. I’m just happy there’s no DNA evidence to tie the vehicle back to what we just did.

My head is pounding from the stress of the entirety of what we’ve done. I can’t bring myself to comfort the woman who keeps searching my face for it.

She takes me back to the truck and when I get out, she does too. I wish she wouldn’t. I wish she would sit the fuck down for a minute so I can catch my breath.

Instead, I opt for small conversation to keep her from reeling the way I am.

“I’m just glad no one saw any of this.” I look out at the long stretch of road and shake my head. Luck? Yeah, right.

As we get ready to head back, I press a kiss to her temple, unable to look her in her eyes.

Mas problemas. I can hear mami saying it now, a cigarette between her lips.

?Vete pa carajo! ?Lárgate!

“You take the Porsche to the motel,” I tell her. “I’ll follow.”

Everything feels so different as I get in the truck and head back. I watch the dead town around me, wondering if anyone has any idea what the fuck just happened. Does Rose even know?

Does she know I’m freaked the fuck out? I don’t think I can handle seeing someone else’s brains leak from a hole in their fucking head.

In no time we pull up and I park beside her. Funny how when you’re dreading something, time isn’t on your side. When I was racing toward Rose, it felt like I couldn’t get there fast enough. And now that I’m avoiding having to look into her eyes, thirty minutes felt like five.

“I have to return the keys. Be up in a second,” is all I offer, still not meeting her gaze, even as I feel it attempt to probe mine.

“I think I need a nap,” she whispers, and perhaps this is defeat. I’m grateful either way.

And I nod. Before I walk away, she grabs my hand and kisses my knuckles. I can’t help but give her what she so desperately needs: eye contact. Those blue eyes are as beautiful as I remember, as fucking gorgeous as always.

“I love you, you know,” she says against them, that sweet voice at odds with the blood I still see on her hands, even after she rinsed them in the river.

The words are a straight shot to my heart and I can’t help my smile. “I know,” I tell her, and she heads to the room, a lightness in her step.

What. The. Fuck?

The whiplash from one end of the emotional spectrum to the other has me questioning everything. Even as she walks away, I almost feel like some normal guy when I turn to do the same.

I give the lady at the front desk her keys and she’s fine in spite of me taking two hours rather than one. There’s a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that I can’t fight, even with the smiles and kisses and declarations of love.

I pause and ask if there’s a computer or something where I can look up a number. She says there isn’t, but that I can look on her phone if I want. So I do.

With each letter I type in the search engine, it feels like I’m some chump who made promises I couldn’t keep.

Joe…Brown…Silverwing…Psychiatrist.

A few articles come up but then I see a contact number. I grab one of the hotel pens and write the phone number on the inside of my forearm.

I give the girl her phone back and head upstairs. When I open the door, I see that Rose is sleeping so I try to keep quiet and tiptoe into the bathroom. I turn to look back at her and it’s crazy how peaceful and beautiful she looks now. Her lips are parted a little, just a little, and her hair is all over the place. She sleeps like she knows I’m looking at her.

She looks like everything I’m not.

But I can’t get it out of my head, the way the cop’s body jerked as he absorbed the second bullet she aimed at him.

I lean over the sink as it plays over and over in my head, unable to keep from the nausea rolling inside of me. I gag and spit and gag one more time.

I stare at the sink, talking myself in and out of calling him. I’m in way over my goddamn head.

Pero I love her.

But can I do this?

But how will I survive without her?

But she’ll kill everyone.

But she’ll kill her fucking self!

I fucking can’t…

My hands are shaking as I dial the number written on my skin. It rings once, and I lose my nerve, hanging up before he can answer. I shove my phone back in my pocket and scrub the number from my skin until I can’t see it anymore.

Mierda.

I can’t do this to Rose.

Whatever hell she belongs in, I’ll be right in there with her.

We’ll burn together.

We belong together.

I splash some water over my eyes and step back. I look paler than usual and my eyes go to the praying hands on my neck, guilt eating at me. My eyes look a little dead and it freaks me the fuck out.

For some reason, mami isn’t here to rub my sins in my face and I’m grateful as I inhale deeply before opening the door.

I step out of the bathroom to see Rose sitting up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes before peering over at me.

“Hello, ,” she says as she tugs the sheets from her body.

When she walks up to me, unaware of the tug-of-war inside of me, I kiss her forehead and hug her close to my body, determined to find comfort in any way I can. Something to bring me back to my body. “I love you, you know.” The declaration feels more like a promise than a proclamation.

I’ll love every part of you. Even the parts that require me to hide dead bodies.

Her fingers dig into me a little and I shut my eyes for a second, welcoming the way her grip brings me back down to reality.

She pulls away and looks at me, her eyes clear and wide.

How can she look this angelic when she’s capable of such evil things?

How can I love her when she makes me question my own goddamn humanity?

“I know,” she says before stepping out of my arms and walking into the bathroom.

The next morning, Rose is already awake when I finally open my eyes. Thankfully she kept her ass put.

“It’s about time, Mr. Cartagena,” she teases me as she turns off the TV and rolls over on her side to look at me. I managed to shower and fall asleep last night, pure exhaustion taking me out before I could overthink. “I thought you might be dead but your snoring kept me from worrying.”

I rub my eyes because I don’t want her to see the shit going on in my mind now that I’m awake.

I was afraid I’d have nightmares about that goddamn cop she killed. The same one I fucking dumped in the river. While exhaustion offered reprieve, I’m not out of the woods.

What the fuck are we doing?

I grab her hand and kiss her wrist before getting up and heading to the bathroom to brush my teeth and piss. I don’t look at my reflection. I’m too disgusted with myself right now to even look myself in the eye. I feel like I don’t know what the fuck we’re gonna do and I hate it. I hate that I can’t keep Rose safe, away from people. I hate that she won’t let me and I fucking hate that she’s so goddamn adamant with this stupid ass revenge.

I hit the counter with the palm of my hand and brace myself over it.

“ Que tontería ,” I say under my breath as I turn off the water.

When I leave the bathroom, I don’t have a second to think before I notice Rose gathering some things.

“What are you up to?” I ask before clearing my throat. I feel like shit.

“Getting ready so we can see if my mother is home yet.”

Fuck .

I’m quiet as she goes through bags and shit but before she goes into the bathroom, I feel like I have to talk to her. “We need to get out of here.”

She stops. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ll have to handle your business soon or we’ll have to skip town and come back this way when things have died down.”

“We aren’t even on the news, . I watched all morning. We’re completely fine,” she tells me but I shake my head because why would you want to wait until we’re on the news to run?

“You killed a cop, Rose. Shit like that doesn’t just go unnoticed.”

“There were no witnesses.”

I’m trying not to lose my patience, but she can’t be fucking serious. “There is no way we’re getting away with this. We were as careful as we could be, but again, shit like this doesn’t just go unnoticed. Things aren’t fine just because you don’t know how shit works!”

Her eyes squint a little and she takes a second before she answers. “I always thought couples argued because they didn’t quite like each other. I see I was wrong.” She walks away and shuts herself in the bathroom.

I want to give her space, but I can’t. I know what she’s capable of. I’ve seen what she can do to people. I don’t know if she’d do anything to hurt herself but it’s a chance I won’t take. I can hear the bathtub water running. I hesitate before doing anything; I try to listen, but I don’t hear anything else.

I knock first and she doesn’t answer, so I walk in.

She’s naked and the tub is already halfway filled. There are no bubbles to cover her body from me.

“I don’t particularly enjoy us being upset with each other,” she says and there’s this cute fucking pout on her face that I focus on instead of her pink nipples that I want to run my tongue over.

Dios mío , focus.

I imagine chains wrapped around the arms I cross over my chest, keeping me from rushing to her. She didn’t ask me to come in and she sure as shit isn’t asking me to fuck her. As badly as I want to. “I’m not upset with you, baby. I just need you to think outside the box because I guaran-fucking-tee the authorities are. You’ve dealt with them before. Those cabrónes will try to pin so much shit on us if we get caught. If we wanna avoid that, we have to be more careful.”

“I don’t often think about the way my decisions affect you. I’m sure that bothers you.” She says the words like she’s listing facts, and she is.

I nod my head but keep my arms crossed, determined to show her how it affects me. “I’d like a little warning before I have to get rid of a fucking body.”

“You witnessed your first murder. And what did you do? You hid the body.” She twists her pretty lips, as if to fight off a smile.

“I didn’t have much of a choice,” I whisper, but it’s a fucking lie. I could have turned her crazy ass in. I wasn’t this person. I didn’t do this kind of shit. But, man, I’m so gone over this girl.

“Have I changed you, ? What would your mami think?” She whispers the question as if she knows that sometimes, when called, mami comes.

She’d call you a gringa , spit in your face, and drag me away by my ear.

And you would fucking kill her.

I don’t say a word as I approach her and sink to my knees. It’s almost like I’m kneeling to my queen. Like I’m some goddamn servant and I should be kissing her royal ring or some shit. Pero, I don’t. Instead, I grab her by the back of her neck and kiss her lips with all the pent-up sexual tension in my body. She groans as our tongues dance and my fingers slide down her damp neck.

If I’m going to bend for her, she’s going to writhe for me.

Her tongue tastes sweet, her saliva mixing with mine to make some sort of cocktail that I can’t get enough of. I run the pad of my thumb over her nipple and she bites down on my tongue before pulling away.

I can taste the coppery tang of my blood as she stares at me with hooded eyes. I touch my finger to my tongue and when I pull it away, sure enough, there’s blood.

“Do you want to touch me?” she asks. Stupidest fucking question in the world.

And I nod even though what I really want to say is claro que si.

She sits up and leans into the edge of the tub to kiss me. Immediately, her tongue runs over my lips and I part them.

Her tongue is in my mouth and that coppery taste is mixing with the taste of us. I can feel her smile as she pulls away and I wonder if she just wanted to see what my blood tasted like. Fucking twisted but my hard-on isn’t going anywhere, not even when I see a tint of red coating her teeth.

She grabs my hand and places it between her breasts. I try not to be disappointed that I’m not touching her naked wet tits but I’m patient. All in due time.

She slides my hand down…down… down as she sits back and leans against the tub to spreads her legs.

?Ay bendito! This woman is going to be the death of me.

“I never let boys touch me here,” she whispers, her hooded eyes assessing me.

“I’m not a fucking boy,” I whisper with force as my hand is slowly pushed under the warm water. “And I should be the only one touching you here.”

“You are.” Her breath hitches as I slide my fingers against her pussy, scissoring her lips and pressing them together so she cries out. “The only one.”

“Want me to make you come, mi espinita linda? ”

She shakes her head and I sit back a little.

Huh?

“I don’t think I’m ready. I just, I wanted to see if you could make me feel good.”

“ Good? I can do you better than that.”

She chuckles and it’s husky. It makes me want to ignore her and press a finger inside. I look down at her and press my thumb against her clit. She grits her teeth and her hands clamp down over mine, stilling me.

“Too much,” she whispers, her chest heaving and her nipples pointed right at me, a dangerous temptation.

She doesn’t know that’s what orgasming is like. Too much. Too intense. Too out of motherfucking body.

I pull my hand away and she slumps back a little, as if catching her breath. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

“,” she starts.

But I’ve already opened the door and walked out.

And right up against the door, I jerk my stiff dick, imagining the way she’ll look when I really give her too much.