Page 44 of The Second Deal

Screechingpierces through the stucco, grating my ears and sending ice down my spine.

Zakslips an arm around me and drags me to the left hallway.Ilook over my shoulder and down the hall, where whatever is outside screams and scratches at the front door.

I’veheard enough stories to know what’s out there.

“That… that’s la lechuza!She…”Istare down at my arm whenZakturns lamps on with the flick of a switch in his room. “Oh, myGod.She’sreal.”

“Yeah, and real fuckin’ pissed.”Hestarts rifling through drawers. “Itold you to leave.”

Myjaw drops. “Iwasn’t about to leave you out there!”

“Yeah, well,” he starts, facing me and shoving a stack of clothes towards me. “Justthis once,Iwish you woulda.”

Istare at the shirt and gym shorts in his hands. “What’sthis for?”

“You’renot going back out there,”Zakstates. “Takea shower soIcan get that gash patched up.AndIgotta do a limpia.”

Groaning,Istamp my foot. “I’mnot staying here, andI’mnot letting you rub an egg all over me—”

“Stephani,” he bellows, “you’re gonna do whatItell you, orI’lllet la lechuza eat your goddamn heart in the driveway like you fuckin’ deserve.Gotit?”

Ican still hear her, even from all the way back here inZak’snew goth bedroom, banging on the door, scratching and howling a hellacious cacophony.Theear-splitting sound pierces the air and sends tears welling up in my eyes.

Finally,Ibreak the silence with a trembling voice. “Whydo you care so much?”

Zaktosses the clothes at me before crossing his sinewy arms over his bloody chest. “Whythe fuck do you?”

Mynose scrunches and tears spill over hard and fast asIspin around and run down the hallway.Lalechuza grows louder whenIrush by; my nerves electrify and a shiver runs down from my skull.

IslamAdrian’sbathroom door behind me and lock it.Myforehead rests against the cool wood, andIsnivel as tears drip to the tile floor.

Icouldn’t even make it a day back home without getting stuck with my ex-boyfriend and wearing his clothes.Withouttaking a shower and smelling like his brother who’s trying his damndest to make me his girlfriend even thoughIfucking hate his guts.

Thecut on my arm burns from soap.Moretears fall as blood seeps and mixes with water running down the drain.

“Shutup.You’rea big girl,”Ichide myself, willing the tears to stop soIcan get the hell out.Beingstuck withZakfor a night wasn’t on my to-do list, but neither is making myself home onAdrian’sside of the house after spending last night with him.

Besides, there are bigger problems out there than me being stuck with my ex for one night.Likela lechuza trying to get inside this house and rip me to shreds, andZakwalking around drunk and injured.

Icatch myself in the mirror on the way out.Thebleeding has slowed to a trickle on my arm.Thankfully,Zak’sgained enough muscle that his shirt hides theWaffleHousefifteen-plusIgained.

Breakup just for him to get more tattoos, get all muscular…

Thescreeching has stopped, but there’s still an incessant scratching at the door.Thelights are off and rustling sounds from the kitchen.

“Z?”Icall out.

Hishead pokes out from the kitchen, low light illuminating his dark, damp hair tied in a knot on top of his head.Hegives a stern look as he holds a finger to his lips before gesturing for me to follow.

“Callate,”Zaksays in a hushed tone whenIround the corner. “Maybeshe’ll give up if we don’t make too much noise.”

Afirst aid kit is laid out on the white quartz bar top with gauze, swabs, and medical tape, complete with a crystal glass holding brown liquid on the rocks.

Igrab the glass, helping myself to a sip of what turns out to be amaretto. “Mm, thankGod.Thoughtthis was gonna beCrown.”

Zaksnorts as he reaches for my arm to inspect the cut. “Somethin’ told me you were gonna steal my drink.”

Insteadof letting tears renew,Ichew on my lip and nurse the amaretto asZakapplies antibacterial ointment.Ialways stole his drink and complained becauseIdidn’t likeCrown, so he would switch it out for amaretto.

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