Page 18 of Chula
“Davey does, though.”
“Does he? You seem to have it all handled.” She huffs a laugh and shakes her head.
“I wish I did. I had to borrow money from a guy at the store. It’s fucking embarrassing.”
“What guy?”
“I don’t know who it was. Just some guy,” she says, trying to walk past me. I don’t let her. I grab her arm and pull her back so she’s looking at me.
“What guy, Chula?”
“What’s the difference?”
“What we just did here is the difference,” I tell her.
“What the hell, Marco? We fucked. We didn’t get married.” She shakes off my hand and walks out of the bathroom and straight toward her brother. She kneels next to him and talks, but he doesn’t respond. He just smiles up at her, and my fucking chest clenches.
I watch them for a long minute until I can’t take it anymore. I turn and haul ass out of the apartment, and when I’m halfway down the stairs, she calls out to me.
“Marco? You okay?” I’m not. I’m not okay because the memories of the fucking past are haunting me right now.
Him. My brother.
Her. My mother.
I reach up and rub the ache in my chest, but nothing makes it feel better. I’m lost in my own head when I feel her hands on me.
“Hey, it’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s okay.” I turn my head and look down at her big brown eyes as she stares up at me.
“It’s not okay, Chula.”
“Why do you call me that?” she asks. I knew the question would eventually come up. I also know that it’s a distraction from what I’m feeling right now.
“Because you’re beautiful.” With that, I pull away from her and head out the door. I need the air. I need the space.
I walk across the street to my place and head inside, ready to take a shower and get ready for tonight, when the door flies open. I leap across the bed for my gun in the nightstand, but I’m not fast enough. Men in masks grab me and drag me off the bed before beating my ass. Kicks, hits, punches, and even a fucking knife to the side. I do my best to fight back, but I’m outnumbered.
I don’t know who the fuck they are until I grab ahold of one of their masks and rip it off. As soon as that happens, they hurry up and run out of my place. I grab my side that’s now bleeding and shove myself to my feet. I stumble a little as I walk over to the door and bolt it this time.
“Fuck!” I roar as I drag my ass back over to the bathroom and call Tony. I tell him to send Kim over and to give her the key to the deadbolt, and he agrees.
I sit on the toilet seat and wait, knowing this shit is going to need stitches. I reach for the bag of supplies under the sink. I’m putting them on the counter when I hear the door open and close.
“In here,” I call out to Kim. Black boots and tan legs come into view, and I immediately know it isn’t Kim that’s standing there. I let my eyes graze over the legs to the hem of the short black dress and further up. Luna stands here in a short dress with lace sleeves, shivering from the cold outside.
“Where’s Kim?”
“Tony said he didn’t know and sent me.”
“I need stitches.”
“What the fuck happened? It’s only been twenty minutes since you left my place,” she says, looking my face over.
“I got jumped.”
“And stabbed?” she asks as she looks at the blood running down my side. I nod my head, but I don’t say shit else.
“Stand up,” she tells me, and I do. She reaches for the supply bag and pulls out what she’ll need, like she’s done this before. And maybe she has back home, but I still ask.
