Page 158 of The First Taste
I narrow my eyes at him, calculating. “Are you saying that you brought me all the way across Manhattan in rush hour traffic because Anita has a bruise?”
He rolls his eyes dismissively. “She asked for you.”
“Uh huh.” I fold my arms across my chest. “Where is Manuelo?”
Lucas heaves a sigh and sticks his hands in the pockets of his dark slacks. “She wouldn’t say. It seems like they had a spat, I guess. She kept saying that he’s been gone for a while.”
My upper lip curls. “Manuelo works for us, Lucas. Why didn’t you just call him?”
He pushes his cheek out with his tongue. “Don’t take your distemper out on me, Calum. I tried his number; it has been disconnected. So Anita was my only source and she was less than forthcoming…”
“Lucas?”
Her voice comes faintly through the door. The sound of her nasal tone sends a wave of nausea through my whole system. It also causes me to break into a cold sweat.
Lucas turns around and pushes the door open. “Look who is here, Anita.”
He grabs me by the forearm and tows me into the room. Anita is sitting on the hospital bed, her tiny body surrounded by pillows and smothered in blankets. She sits up a little and pats the back of her dyed black hair, her mouth pursing. Whether she is displeased or not is impossible to say.
“Oh, Calum,” she says, tearing up. She speaks English heavily inflected with a Spanish accent. “Thank god you’re here. I keep telling everybody to wait until you get here to make my medical decisions.”
My mouth thins. “I’m not interested in having any say in what happens to you, Anita. I think I’ve made that clear as a bell.”
Lucas gives me an alarmed look, but I’m not worried about that. Anita does exactly what I expect of her, which is that she bursts into full-fledged tears.
“Why do you treat me as if I was some street trash, Cal? After I raised you, after I fed and clothed and sheltered you out of my own pocket?!”
She starts sobbing brokenly. I check my watch; it took her less than two minutes to start guilt tripping me about having basic needs as a child.
Lucas shoves me. I roll my eyes up at him, scowling. “What?”
“Be nice to her,” he mutters. “Jesus, Calum. She’s in the fucking hospital.”
I glare at him. He glares right back.
“You shouldn’t have called me here,” I say simply. “You know better.”
The nurse coughs gently behind us to alert us to her presence. “Excuse me, but could I please borrow you, Mr. Fordham?”
Lucas stiffens. “Yeah, of course. Coming.”
I scowl at him as he leaves the room, stalking down the hallway. Anita has progressed to full blown howling by now; I blow out a breath as I cast a glance her way.
“You treat me so terrible!” she wails.
I lean against the closest wall, tilting my head. “What happened to Manuelo, Anita? Hmm? Lucas said that he changed his phone number.”
Her thin shoulders shake with the force of her sobs. “Se ha ido! Como tu. Ya no es especial para mi!!”
“Yeah, I still don’t speak any Spanish.” I glance behind me, wondering when Lucas is coming back.
She cries for a minute. When she yells again, it’s accentuated with hiccups. “I. Don’t. Know. Why. You. Don’t. CARE about me!”
“Yes, you do.” I look at my fingernails, pursing my lips.
“No!” she shrieks.
“Well, the second my mother died, you offered to take care of me and Lucas.” My lips twitch. “And before she was even buried, you came onto me. I was fifteen. My mom had just died.” I smile at her, the expression turning mean. “And if I’m remembering correctly, you made me fuck you in a closet at her funeral.”
