Chapter 16
Fuck.
I don’t like talking about this.
I rub my hands through my hair and look up at Vanessa.
On her face, I don’t see the fascination and excitement some people have when I tell them my background, like they’re watching some true crime drama on TV. But I also don’t see any embarrassment. Lots of people, even people who think of themselves as do-gooders, are embarrassed by the truth of my reality. They don’t want me to talk about it, and when I do, they get the weird look of mice caught in a trap—like they’d rather chew off their own foot to escape the room, to escape from me. These people are worse than the ones who’ve come to eat popcorn at the freak show. These people don’t want to see the real me. They want to see their own goodness reflected in me and my struggle to be a better man. They don’t want to be reminded of my failures. They don’t want to be reminded of any failures, including their own.
But in Vanessa, I see none of this nonsense. I see a woman, sitting across the table, listening to me without judgment.
“I just sat next to him in the street,” I say. “I pushed on the open wound with both hands—I held on, as tight as I could—and waited until the cops and paramedics showed up. Eddie went to the emergency room. I went straight to jail.” I smile. Dark humor keeps me from hurting too much. “In my mug shot, I’m covered in my brother’s blood. I look like a fucking chain saw murderer.”
Vanessa doesn’t laugh. Instead, she stands up and wraps her arms around my shoulders. She kisses my cheek and neck.
“You saved your brother’s life.”
“No. I made bad decisions,” I say. “Even when I made them, I knew they’d catch up with me. With us.”
“Yeah, but all that’s behind you now. You’re moving forward, right?”
I nod. “Right.”
I follow her upstairs, carrying the weight of the things I can’t tell her. My promise to Ruben. My agreement to go after Las Palmas. I’m repeating history again, and I don’t know how to stop myself.
We lie down in the bed where we just made love. Vanessa holds me, stroking my face until I’m halfway between awake and asleep.
“Do you regret the things you’ve done?” I ask.
Time unwinds behind my question. One minute. Another. Vanessa’s hands are like a warm breeze sliding over my skin. “I regret a lot of things,” she whispers. “Falling in love with Sleepy was stupid. I lost everything I had worked so hard to build. I broke my grandmother’s heart. I regret all of that. But Sleepy—he gave me my daughter.” Vanessa’s voice is as soft as her touch. “She is the love of my life, Sal. I wouldn’t trade anything in the world for her.”
I wonder if there’s room in this woman’s enormous heart for me. Will I be just another decision she regrets? Right before I close my eyes, I touch her hand. “I’m sorry for this morning.”
“Don’t worry about that.” I feel her kiss on my forehead. “Sleep now.”
Three days pass. Summer blazes on, endless. I work out scenarios where I call up Ruben and tell him the truth. I practice my lines: I can’t do it, I’m out, I’m no good, I’ve lost my stomach for it, I’d be a liability to you.
But when it comes time for me to dial his number on my phone, I remember my dad. I remember what Hollenbeck did to him, and I put the phone back in my pocket.
Now it’s evening. Chinita is sitting on the porch with her cigarette. The rhinestones on her glasses twinkle in the light from the setting sun.
“Tell me, mi’jo. Be honest. Have you ever seen a foxier sixty-eight-year-old than me? I mean, let’s be honest here.”
It’s her birthday. She’s been day-drinking with the chismosas. She’s wearing a party hat covered in rainbow glitter. The glitter has rained down on her cheeks like freckles. She takes another drag and exhales. “Maybe with a push-up bra and a faja, I could have the body of, I don’t know, a forty-year-old? The face could be a little better, but some mascara, a little lipstick…I could pass for fifty, que no? I could get me a younger man. What do you think?”
“I think you look good, señora.” I bend down and kiss her cheek. “Vanessa’s sending me to get your cake.”
She’s grinning at me. I can smell the cloud of gin around her. “Only if you promise to pop out of it and do a little dance for me, okay?”
I walk three blocks to La Golondrina Bakery. There’s a kid behind the counter, a new employee I’ve never seen before. He looks like he’s just moved here from Mexico. He doesn’t speak English so I ask him for a tres leches cake with strawberries.
“Y por favor escriba en el pastel, ‘Feliz Cumpleaños Chinita,’ ” I say.
The worker takes the cake from the case and brings it to the back room to write the message on top. As he goes out, Slim walks in. His shoulders are slumped and his face looks swollen. He has a black eye. When he sees me, he comes out from behind the counter and puts his hands on my shoulders.
“Ghost.” His voice is quiet. “You said you would talk to Ruben. I don’t know what to do.”
“I did talk to Ruben. He hasn’t contacted you?”
“No. He hasn’t. Things have gotten worse.” Slim looks behind my shoulder out the window and his voice drops even more. “They got me. Closing up shop last week. I wouldn’t pay them—I couldn’t pay them—and they beat me up. Me, an old man. Why? Why would they do this? Where is Hollenbeck? Las Palmas would never pull bullshit like this back in the day.”
“I don’t know, Slim.” I take a deep breath and wonder why Ruben hasn’t taken action. Slim is right—something like this should have been shut down immediately.
Slim’s face creases with worry. “My wife—she doesn’t come to work with me anymore. I don’t want her here. I told her to stay home and I hired an assistant to help me out. But this doesn’t make sense. This is our family business. Our bread and butter. I’ve been doing this all my life only to get beaten up in the parking lot of my own shop.” He pauses. “I had to buy a gun.”
“What? Where is it?”
“Under the cash register.”
Slim stops talking when the assistant comes out of the back room with the pink box. The assistant lifts the lid and shows me the message on the cake, neatly written in red gel. I pay the kid and pick up the cake.
Slim walks me to the door, out of the earshot of his assistant. “Ghost, por favor. I’m begging you. Talk to him again. Tell him to do something. We’re hurting out here.”
I’m caught in the spiderweb. Invisible threads wrap around me one after the other until I can’t break free. I look into the man’s worried face and I feel his fear.
“Okay. I’ll see what I can do.”
On the walk home, I take out my phone. With one hand, I hold the cake. With the other, I dial Ruben’s phone number.
He doesn’t answer. I leave a message, just the basics. “Hey, it’s me, Ghost. Call me when you can.”
He doesn’t return the call. After dinner, before I go to work, I try again. “Ruben, call me. It’s Ghost.”
No response.
On the train to Santa Monica, I sit looking out the window, wondering what Ruben is thinking.
The next morning, despite her birthday hangover, Chinita puts on her sunglasses and walks Muñeca to school before going to the salon to get her hair dyed. Vanessa says it’ll take hours. She’s taken the day off to do some last-minute cramming for the last two sections of her CPA exam tomorrow. She’s nervous and jumpy, as if she hasn’t studied at all, which is ridiculous—she’s been studying like a maniac ever since I moved in.
When I wake up at noon, she’s sitting at her desk, whispering to herself and twirling the ends of her hair around a pen. Anxiety rises off her like steam.
I sit up. I know what relaxes her. “Baby.”
She looks up at me and blinks. “What?”
“Come take a hot shower with me.”
“But I don’t have time—”
“You have a little time for this.”
When I stand up, she puts down her pen and takes my hand. I lead her to the bathroom. There’s a huge old-fashioned bathtub in there, probably as old as the house. I strip us naked, pick her up and put her in the tub. I turn the taps and climb in. As hot water rains down on us, Vanessa stands there, staring up at me as I scrub down her pretty body. I wash her hair and massage her temples and rub her neck. But it isn’t until I kiss her that I feel her tension drain away, bit by bit. My hands slide down her back and I cup her lush ass cheeks. I pull her close and nudge her belly with my hard-on.
“All clean?” I ask her.
“No,” she says with a wicked smile. “Much dirtier.”
Vanessa reaches behind me and turns off the water. She giggles as I pick her up and carry her, dripping wet, back to the bed. When I drop her on the mattress, her tits jiggle. I climb on top of her and kiss her, hungry and deep, while my fingers swirl and pinch her hard brown nipples. I do this for a long time. Soon she begins to squirm, trying to rub herself on me like an animal in heat.
She breaks the kiss. “Sal. Please.”
I smile. “Please what?”
“Touch me. Please.” She reaches down to stroke herself but I pull her hands away.
“I thought you were too busy.”
“Please.” Her pretty fingers move down between her legs but I push them away again.
“You’re going to get something good,” I say, “but you have to be patient.”
I tour her body again, kissing all of her sweet spots—her lips, her neck, the insides of her wrists. I take her big tits in my hands and suck gently on her already-tender nipples. I put my hands on the insides of her thighs and spread them apart, nice and wide. I kiss her inner thighs and watch as her pussy lips swell and glisten. To tease her, I blow across her clit. When it stiffens, she shivers and goosebumps break out all over her body.
“Sal.”
I lift her feet off the bed, take her hands and place them on her shins. The position of her arms spreads her thighs even farther apart.
“Keep your hands there. Understand?”
“Yes.”
She’s showing me everything. Clear liquid drips like a tear from her pussy down over her tight little asshole. My hard-on pulses, aching to plunge in.
“Are you gonna let me play with you, baby?”
“Yes.”
My eyes linger on the tiny virgin opening. “All of you?”
She bites her lip. “Yes.”
Our stash is in the top drawer of her dresser hidden underneath a few folded T-shirts. I take it all out: the vibrator, the plug, the lube.
I go down on her and watch her face transform as I lick and suck and tease her. She shuts her eyes and drops her head back. Her lips part. I watch her chest rise and fall with each gasp. When I tongue her clit, her nipples stand straight up and a hot red blush covers her chest and cheeks.
She’s so wet, the sheets are already soaked. But I want more. I lean back and flip open the cap on the bottle of lube. I squeeze the clear, cool liquid on her ass and she flinches.
“Cold?” I ask.
She nods.
“I’ll warm it up for you. Don’t worry.”
I lower my mouth and suck on her pussy lips again, her honey sliding down my throat. I swirl my tongue around and around her clit, just like I saw her jack off the first time we had sex in the garage. When I do this, she clenches and moans. I do it again, this time putting a little pressure on her asshole with the tip of my middle finger.
“Oh, God,” she whispers.
“Relax.” I can’t help it. I laugh a little to myself.
“What?” she says, looking down at me. “Why are you laughing?”
“I’m not laughing at you, baby.” I stroke the inside of her thigh. “I was just thinking that ‘Relax’ is a pretty fucking cocky thing to say when you’re not the one about to get something shoved up your butt.”
She smiles and shakes her head at me. “I can’t believe I’m letting you do this to me.”
I press her ass again and the first joint of my finger pops in. She gasps and bears down on me.
“See what happens when you let a gangster live in your garage?” I say. “Before you know it, he’s in your bed with his finger up your ass.”
We’re both laughing now. She sits up and kisses me on the lips. “Nothing about you is what I expected, you know that?”
I look into her eyes. “You’re better than what I expected. You’re real.”
She lies back down. With gentle strokes, I lick her and kiss her while I slowly work my finger deeper into her tightness. Her pussy is small but her ass is even smaller. I can’t get my mind to work out the mechanics of getting my dick in there, so I decide today is all about playing.
I keep going down on her, taking her to the edge of her orgasm and back. The room heats up. When she’s taken my entire finger, I slide it in and out, getting her used to the friction. Every time she flinches, I suck on her clit. Every time she whimpers, I slide my tongue into her pussy and comfort her. Mixing pleasure and pain, we move two steps forward, one step back.
“Have you done this before?” she asks quietly. She’s out of breath from the effort of holding back her climax.
“Couple times. But not with a virgin.” I withdraw my hand, uncap the lube, and spread more on her ass. She jumps when the cold liquid hits her. I take the brand-new plug and coat it until it’s dripping. It’s a small steel plug with a red jeweled heart on the end. My dick hardens when I imagine Vanessa buying it online and thinking of me.
“Ready?” I ask.
She grips her shins again like a good girl. “Okay.”
“Breathe.”
I go down on her, holding nothing back. Her sweet flavor intoxicates me. The girl is wet and hot and ready to come, but we are on a mission. I lap at her clit and push the pointed end of the plug gently into her. When she whimpers, I lick her harder and push again. Her tight muscles resist and relax around the smooth metal. It’s an insanely sexy thing to see. Vanessa’s eyes squeeze shut and she’s panting.
“Don’t fight it, baby.”
“It hurts,” she hisses.
“You want me to stop?”
She shakes her head. “No. All the way.”
Slowly, I turn and twist the plug, pressing it forward. Her ass stretches around the widest part. I push quickly and the rest of the plug slides in automatically. The little red heart covers her hole like a button. It’s sexy as hell.
“There it is,” I whisper. “How does it feel?”
She opens her eyes. “Weird. But okay.”
“Good.”
I sit up and spread cold lube over my hot, hard dick. I jack off and the wet, nasty sound makes me even harder. I look down at Vanessa, flushed and spread wide open with a plug up her ass. She looks like a fucking goddess. In my heart of hearts I would never allow myself to imagine a picture so beautiful.
I lean down and kiss her. Our tongues swirl together.
“You taste yourself?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
“You let anyone else do this to you? Play with your ass?”
“No, Sal. You’re the first. The only.”
“You told me once you like it rough. Were you lying to me, baby?”
“No. That’s how I like it.”
I grip my cock in my fist and speed up my strokes. “How about right now? You want me to treat you rough?”
“Yes.”
I should be more gentle. I shouldn’t do this. But I can’t help myself when she begs. I slide the head of my dick up and down her puffy, wet lips.
“What do you need, baby?”
“I need you.”
I look into her eyes and slam my cock into her to the root. She screams. I thrust twice and she comes all over me, squirting and spasming, eyes wild. She doesn’t let go of her legs. I can see her nails digging into her own flesh. The orgasm is long and hard. It slams her like a truck then backs over her body again and again.
“Fuck,” she whispers, “fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.”
But we’re not done. I pull out of her, stand up, and drag her until her ass is flush with the edge of the bed. I put my hands on the backs of her knees and push her legs high and wide. I bend down and suck that nectar out of her pussy again—she’s always sweeter after she comes.
“I need you,” she says. “Come in me, Sal.”
I’m going to explode out of my skin. I adjust my stance and get my balance. I grab the vibrator next to her head and switch it on. I put its tip right on her clit just as I plunge into her pussy again. From this angle, I can feel the cold, heavy metal of the plug in her ass. I go deep and fast, slapping my balls against her like some kind of animal. I turn up the intensity on the vibrator. Vanessa’s eyes roll back and her jaw drops.
“Oh, my God.”
“You’re giving me everything now,” I say. “Do you feel me, hermosa? That’s me. Fucking your ass and your pussy at the same time.” I rub the vibrator back and forth against her poor pink clit. Her nipples are hard as steel. She grabs on to my forearms. She’s shaking.
“Sal, you’re going to make me…I’m going to…”
I shove the vibrator against her. Her back arches and she explodes again, less than a minute after her first orgasm. My cock drowns in her hot liquid. When her pussy begins to milk me, I can’t hold back. Blood pounds through my veins. My heart is beating so hard, it rattles my rib cage. My body locks up and hot come rushes out of me, filling her and spilling out over both of us.
It’s just sex.
And yet…it’s not.
We’re not bodies.
We’re pure light, set free for a moment before the universe gathers us and sets us back inside ourselves, particle by particle. Drop by drop.
Slowly, Vanessa pulls the plug from her body. I gather up the toys, wash them in the bathroom, dry them, and place them back in their hiding place. When I come out into the bedroom, Vanessa is on her back in the bed looking out the window at the sky. No clouds, only the smoggy blue-gray of an L.A. summer.
I climb into bed and hold her close. The sheets smell like her and me together. It’s a good smell.
“So,” I say.
“So.”
“How did you enjoy your first…?” I trail off, unsure of what to call what we just did.
She snorts. “It was okay. A little rough, but I enjoyed it.”
“Would you say…you enjoyed it in the end?”
“Yeah. In the end.”
We laugh like dorks. When the laughter fades, I put my arms around her and squeeze her tight. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this relaxed around anyone.
“What you did there,” I say, “that takes a lot of trust. I don’t take it for granted.”
She strokes my face, my neck. “I trust you. You know that.” Her sleepy eyes drift over my tattoos. “When we talk, I think we mostly talk about the past. But I’ve enjoyed talking about who you are now. I think you’re smarter than you give yourself credit for. And I’m glad you’re trying new things, like this beer program. I think it’s really cool.” She touches my lips. “The things I’ve learned about you—you shouldn’t be alive, Sal. Most people wouldn’t have come out of your experiences alive, much less whole.”
“There’s plenty missing in who I am.”
“Maybe.” She looks into my eyes. “But you have what counts. You have pride.”
“Pride?”
“Yeah.”
“You mean I strut around like an asshole?”
“No, stupid. I don’t mean that kind of pride. Not the flashy loudmouthed kind without anything to back it up. I mean, pride in yourself. In who you are. In the man you’ve built yourself up to be, without much help from the rest of the world.”
I look at her pretty face, her lips, her dark, smooth skin. “Pride, huh?”
“Yeah. Pride. I like a lot of things about you, Sal. You work like an ox, and you have more discipline than anyone I’ve ever met. You’re smarter than you pretend to be. Behind the tats and the muscles and the frown, you’re just a big teddy bear.”
“What? No, I’m not.”
She smiles and gives me a squeeze. “You are so. But your pride—that’s what I like best about you. That’s what makes you who you are.”
When we kiss, I know the truth.
I love her.
No more crushing, no more falling, no more flirting. I love her, and I want her to be in my future as much as I want to be in hers.
New mission.
Do whatever it takes to make myself the kind of man who deserves to be in Vanessa Velasco’s life.
So I do something crazy. I call up Barry at Defiance and say I can’t make it to work. He asks me if I’m okay. I tell him I’m fine, but I have a family emergency to attend to.
Which is only kind of a lie.
“No!” Muñeca says. “No, no, no. This is bad.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m stuck. I can’t move.”
“Why not?”
“I’m on licorice. I can’t move.”
We’re playing Candy Land. An epic battle. She’s the red gingerbread man. I’m the blue. She takes the game very seriously.
I’m pretty good with little kids. I played with Regina’s kids and I used to have to watch my little sister all the time. Muñeca is a different kind of child. First of all, she’s got her mom’s clear-eyed stare. She talks a lot, but she always speaks in complete sentences because neither Vanessa nor Chinita can stand baby talk. Sometimes she sounds like a tiny adult.
“Sal, it’s your turn.”
It’s Chinita’s bingo night at the church, so I promised Vanessa I’d watch Muñeca for the evening while she did her last-minute studying upstairs. First, Muñeca and I played on the swings. Then I made Muñeca a grilled cheese sandwich and some soup. Now we’re playing Candy Land as a final treat before her bedtime.
As much as I am enjoying exploring Gumdrop Mountains with a five-year-old, I keep thinking about Vanessa.
The way she’s opened up to me.
The way she’s let me into her life.
Me. Of all people. She trusts me.
Her test begins tomorrow at eight. She wants to go to bed early. We wore each other out this afternoon, so for the first time, we’ll be sleeping in the same bed. I space out a little bit, thinking about how perfect it will feel to finally fall asleep with Vanessa in my arms.
“Sal! You’re stuck too!”
I look down. My blue gingerbread man is stuck on a black dot. “Oh, look at that. I ain’t going anywhere.”
“You aren’t going anywhere.”
“Right you are,” I say in a fake English accent. “I am not going anywhere, my lady.”
Muñeca giggles. When she draws another card, Chancla takes off like a rocket from the kitchen to the front door, growling. He scratches at the wood and barks. I get that strange prickly feeling on the back of my neck and I tense up in my chair.
Trouble’s coming.
The doorbell rings.