13. Karina Tells The Truth #2
Karina and I have always been the same that way. But where I lash out, she shuts in.
The bell rings and it’s the perfect escape.
“I forgot.” She gets up. “We ordered Chinese.”
* * *
We’re halfway through our meal when the doorbell rings again. At first I wonder who it could be when I remember I texted Alejandro to pick me up.
“Crap,” I look around the kitchen for a clock. My phone is charging in the living room. “Is it three o’clock already?”
“Is it Alex?” she walks over to the window above the sink and pulls back the curtain. “Is that his car pulling into the driveway?”
“It’s a rental.” I say. “Sorry, I forgot to—”
“It’s fine.” She offers a small smile. “I’ll tell him to come in.”
Karina uses the side door and waves at him from the top of the stairs.
They lead down to a paved driveway and beyond that a small but pretty backyard decorated with chairs, tables, and an umbrella all covered for the winter.
Alejandro steps out of the car and comes up to greet her with a kiss on the cheek and Karina pulls him in for a hug.
They exchange words briefly and Alejandro must’ve made her laugh because she comes back inside with a smile.
“You know, I forgot much I liked hot European boyfriend,” she says.
“Not European,” he corrects. “But thank you.”
“We ordered Chinese.” I extend a carton of Lo Mein. “Not bad for Jersey.”
Karina opens one of the cabinets and grabs a plate. “She acts like Jersey isn’t a hop, skip, and a jump away from the island of Manhattan! There’s good food here too.”
“Meh.” I crinkle my nose.
Alejandro removes his coat and places it on the back my chair. He leans down and kisses me. “The fried rice looks good.”
Karina puts down another place setting on the dinette table as Alejandro washes his hands. When he returns, it’s to a healthy serving of food on his plate and the three of us eat in a comfortable silence.
“How was the traffic?” Karina asks.
“Not too bad. The Holland wasn’t backed up for once.”
“How have you guys liked living in New York the last year?” she pours herself another cup of soda. “Do you plan on going back to Barcelona any time soon?”
I haven’t told Karina that Alex and I have only recently gotten back together. Somehow, my relationship problems seemed so insignificant compared to hers. Mentioning it now would’ve been in poor taste. In the grand scheme of things, it really doesn’t matter.
Alejandro looks to me for direction and I come up with something on the fly. “We have a house on 92nd Street. You should come visit us sometime.”
She looks up from her plate and smiles a real smile for the first time in what feels like ages. “I’d really like that.”
“How about this weekend?” He suggests. “We could—”
A loud screeching sound followed by a bang draws our attention outside.
Alejandro is already on guard and rising from his seat.
“What the Hell was that?” I glance outside the windows.
“I…I don’t know.” Karina pushes her chair out with trembling hands. “Where—”
“Karina?” the voice is coming from the front of the house. “Karina!”
“Oh my God.” She whispers.
It’s Brent.
Pounding echoes throughout the house and Alejandro is the first one down the hall toward the front door.
It’s a single, short corridor connecting the front of the house where the living and dining rooms are to the back where the kitchen is.
Karina stays close behind me as we follow him to the front door where Brent has already forced his way through.
“Karina!” he yells from the living room. “I know you’re here!”
He looks manic. I’ve never seen him in such a state before. I’d accuse him of being inebriated or under the influence except I’ve never known Brent to be a heavy drinker. In fact, he he’s the kind of man who’s satisfied by a beer or two and nothing more.
His hair is long and sweeps over his forward like it hasn’t been combed in days. Dark crescents hang under his brown eyes, alluding to many sleepless nights. Wearing a crumpled suit and coat with a haphazardly tied scarf, he looks like he came here in a hurry.
“I’m not crazy.” He insists. “I saw him, I saw the man on the security camera. Who’s car is that outside?”
“Mine.”
Brent has cut through the living room and beelined straight for the stairs but stops short of the first few steps. He spins around as if just realizing we’re here.
“You…” he trips over his feet as he descends the stairs. He can’t close the distance between him and Alejandro fast enough. “I remember you. You’re that fucking degenerate’s brother.”
I completely forgot Diego beat the shit out of Brent the night of the ballet. From the look of his nose, it seems to have broken and never properly healed. Good.
“Did you bust down the door?” Karina whispers in disbelief. “What the Hell is wrong with you?”
He pulls his gaze away from Alejandro and when it lands on Karina, his eyes go wide and desperate. The vicious bite in his voice is replaced by madness and desperation and maybe even a hint of bitterness.
“I’m not crazy. You forget I still have access to the cameras around this house. I saw a man come in here!”
“Yes—Alejandro. My cousin’s boyfriend!” she argues. “You broke down the door for that?”
“You changed the locks!”
“Because you don’t live here anymore!”
Brent takes a step forward as if to approach her when Alejandro extends his hand. He catches Brent’s face with his palm and flings him backward with a minor flick of the wrist. Brent stumbles and crashes into the demilune table near the door, face plastered with shock.
“Who the Hell do you think you are…” he utters in disbelief. “Get the fuck out of my house!”
“Karina already said you aren’t welcome here.” Alejandro juts his chin in the direction of the front door. “Get out.”
Brent clenches his fists at his side and storms down the hall. I hold out an arm to keep Karina behind me but Brent is met by Alejandro who once more pushes him toward the exit.
“I’m not going to tell you again,” he says quietly.
Brent practically sneers at him. “She’s my wife.”
“And she’s about to be your widow if you attempt to go near her again. Out.”
He lets out a sardonic laugh and gives Alejandro a searing once over. “Oh, is that so? Let me guess. She’s screwing you too?”
“Brent!” Karina exclaims in horror.
Brent catches Alejandro off guard when he plants both feet on the floor and gives him a harsh push toward the staircase. “I’m not an idiot. I know everything that goes in this house.”
“Brent just go.” Karina pleas.
“Don’t worry, I’m going,” he says. “But I’ll be back later. Once your little bodyguard is gone and the flimsy locks on the front door won’t be enough to keep me out.”
He glances over Alejandro’s shoulder and looks directly at Karina when he smiles and says, “Not even the lock on our bedroom door. So don’t plan on having any visitors tonight. That is, if you can help yourself.”
He barely gets the last word out before Alejandro punches him in the jaw.
The hit is clean and sharp and I hear the crack of bone as Brent flies back against the wall.
He’s so disoriented he can’t stay upright but it doesn’t matter.
Alejandro grabs him by the collar and drags him out of the house.
When they reach the front porch, he tosses him down the icy steps where he lands in the damp grass, still writhing and moaning.
Alejandro slams the door shut behind him as he re-enters the house. I can tell by the way he tugs at the sleeves of his shirt and the tightness in his jaw that it’s taking a concerted effort to control his temper.
“Kay, do me a favor please, and go pack an overnight bag.”
“But—” she tries to protest but he cuts her off.
“He just busted through your front door and threatened to come back.”
She shakes her head dismissively. “He won’t actually—”
“Karina,” I turn to face her. “What’s the matter with you? You can’t stay here.”
“Go,” Alejandro says. “We’ll wait until you’re done.”
She grinds her teeth. “I’m not a child.”
He looks down at her and if not for the severity of the situation, I might’ve laughed at his father-like stance; hands on both hips, brows furrowed, voice firm and slightly condescending, perfect for when dealing with a rebellious teenager.
Karina acts defiant but with their height difference, she’s losing the battle.
“That wasn’t a request. Go upstairs and pack a bag. Now.”
Flustered, she purses her lips and looks to me for back up but I shake my head. “He’s kidnapped me before. Twice. I suggest you go pack that bag.”
She blinks up at us in confusion, torn between her own outrage and fear.
She knows we’re right but will refuse the help because she’s stubborn and accustomed to always being the adult in the room.
If we’d been alone maybe I would’ve relented and let Karina have her way but when Alejandro has his mind set on something, he can be forceful when exerting his will.
Especially when he thinks it’s in the best interest of someone he cares about.
Everyone around him, including myself, is someone to be taken care of.
And now, for better or for worse, that shield of protection has been extended to Karina.
She spins on her heels and stomps upstairs without another word. When she’s gone, Alejandro turns to me and says, “Really? The kidnapping thing?”