Broken

Four days—that’s how long it’d been since Romero had seen or talked to Isabel, and he was going crazy. Monday, Alex and Valerie had dropped by to pick up his laptop. He’d changed his mind about making things so final after only one day without her so he’d told Alex to only pick up his laptop—nothing else. But Valerie had called Isabel ahead of time, and she had all his things packed and ready for them when they got there. She asked Alex to come back when he had time to take down his plasma T.V. There was no question about it. She was done with him.

Romero sat miserably, staking out a house where a client’s husband had entered over an hour earlier. The guy’s car still sat in the driveway. The house was being rented by two women. He knew that much from running the records on the house. He already had pictures of this guy with one of the women that lived here in all kinds of compromising situations. Ever since he’d picked up more employees, he usually left this work to them, choosing instead to be home with Isabel but all week he’d been out here every night. He had enough pictures of this guy to hang him dead with his wife. But still, he was out there getting more.

He thought of Charles and the woman he saw him with at the restaurant. Was he really that stupid? His wife had been right upstairs. If Romero didn’t do this kind of shit for a living he might question that what he’d seen, maybe it wasn’t what it looked like. He’d forgotten all about it since then.

It had been a hell of a week so far. Getting little to no sleep at all, mindlessly going about his days. Nothing mattered anymore. Not even when he got the call that morning from Nick to tell him the charges against him had been dropped. It should’ve been uplifting news—his uncles were happy enough. Yet, it didn’t even feel like it mattered. His life was still wretched.

The only thing constantly on his mind was how the hell he was he going to survive without Isabel. It was just a matter of time before her fucking sister finally set her up with someone who interested her. Maybe she’d even give Jacob another shot—or worse—he squeezed the camera he held—she’d go out with Michael again.

Sitting up straight, he felt that familiar heat inundate him. That same heat he had so little control over, especially when it involved Isabel. He took deep breaths and closed his eyes, counting down from ten. Just one of the stupid tips he’d read on the internet the other night on calming techniques. He’d learned from trying it earlier that he had to count super slow or he’d get down to one way before he was even remotely calm. He did what the article said. Identified what was causing the tension and removed it from his thoughts so that he could diffuse the issue.

He smirked when he realized it was actually working. Finally, after several minutes of this, he felt calm enough to open his eyes. He opened them slowly, smiling triumphantly, then glanced over to the driveway only to see the car he’d been watching was gone. “Aww fuck!”

Well, hell. He’d wasted all that time sitting there for nothing. He turned the car on and decided he had no choice but to call it a night.

On the drive back to his uncles’ house, he got to thinking about Charles again. Maybe he could do a little digging and find out what he was up to. If anything, it would give him the satisfaction to know Pat’s husband was cheating on her. Who could blame the sap? He was stuck with her. Pat wasn’t ugly. In fact, irritatingly enough, she looked a lot like Isabel only she had shorter hair. But it was like in that movie Shallow Hal. Her personality was so nasty it made her ugly.

His uncles were both still at the bar when he got home. Aida was in the kitchen cleaning up and closing it down, as she put it. Anyone who ate after she closed it down had better put their shit away or there would be hell to pay.

He said hello to her as he walked through the kitchen into the hallway. He grabbed the laptop from his room and brought it out into the dining room. Some of the software he had should be illegal. It dug so deep into peoples’ private lives it was scary. He didn’t even need to know Charles’ last name. He typed in Isabel’s name taking a deep calming breath from just seeing her name. It immediately brought up all her next of kin, her extended family, even employers. He clicked on Pat’s name bringing up all her info and there it was.

Romero laughed when he saw Charles’ given name was actually Carlos Castro. He’d changed it to Charles years ago, no doubt because he thought it sounded more sophisticated. “Alright Carlos Castro, lets see what you’re up to.”

He sat back to wait the few minutes to bring up Charles’ latest credit card activity. He had several but there was one in his name only from the same bank where he had an account in his name only as well. Always a revealing sign.

Aida answered her phone in the kitchen and it immediately caught Romero’s attention. “What? Slow down, Manny. I can barely understand you.”

Romero turned away from the laptop to listen.

“Oh my God!” She shrieked. “Who shot him?”

Romero jumped from his chair and rushed into the kitchen. Aida was already crying. She shoved the phone at Romero. “Max was shot!”

Romero managed to get the hospital information from his hysterical uncle. He and Aida ran out the door and into his car. Aida tried to make some sense out of what Manny was still trying to tell her on the phone. “Tell him to just wait ‘til we get there. He’s hysterical enough, he shouldn’t be on the phone while he drives, too.”

“Honey, we’re almost there. You can tell us when we get there. Okay? Just try to calm down.”

Romero was nearly hit by a car in the hospital parking lot as he ran through it to get to the emergency room. Manny was already there sitting in the waiting room bent over, his face buried in his hands. Romero and Aida rushed over to him. Aida sat next to him. Without getting up, Manny wrapped his arms around Romero’s waist and sobbed against his shirt. “What if we lose him, Moe? What are we gonna do?”

Suddenly Romero felt the tears in his own eyes drip down his face. He didn’t even remember the last time he cried. His voice cracked. “What happened? Who shot him?”

Manny moaned, unable to compose himself. “Some stupid bastards got in a fight at the bar. Shots were fired and Manny caught one in the chest.” Manny moaned again, his body shaking as he continued to sob against Romero.

There was nothing left to clean. The pantry, the fridge, even the linen closet, had all been cleaned out this week. The grout on both the kitchen and bathroom tile were thoroughly scrubbed and now looked good as new. Every crevice in the apartment had been vacuumed and cleaned. Isabel lay there on the sofa smelling the pine cleaner scent that filtrated throughout her apartment. Her muscles ached. Her knuckles were raw. She’d done everything she could to keep herself busy all week and still she felt the warm tear run down the side of her face as she lay there desperately trying not think of the one thing she’d avoided thinking about all week. Romero.

She missed him terribly. Sunday night after getting home from the mall, she’d decided she just didn’t have it in her to deal with Romero’s relationship with Cici. If he had to continue seeing her for his son’s sake, it would kill her each time he came home with her scent all over him. The thought of him spending any time with her even if it was only for his son’s sake would be too painful. Now she couldn’t decide what would be worse, that or this. Lying here wishing with all her might that she could feel his arms around her, just one more time. It was all she’d thought of every night since that horrible night.

She’d been so sleep-deprived since then, and now she felt her body giving in to the exhaustion. Normally, she’d get up and brush her teeth, get into her sleepwear, make sure her clothes were ready for the next morning. Now she let herself give in to the exhaustion. Let her body call the shots until it slowly shut down and slipped into an abyss of nothingness.

Far away in the distance, there was a ringing. A ringing she’d been hearing the entire time she’d floated in a chasm of weightless reflection. Images of happier times with Romero floated through her semi-consciousness. Making love through the night, laughing as they enjoyed their dinner, kiss after glorious kiss then the ringing stopped. Along with it so did the images.

Panicked, Isabel shuddered. Then the ringing started again. This time she opened her eyes and realized she’d been dreaming, but the ringing continued. The lamp in the front room was still on but it was dark out and Isabel sat dazed wondering what time it was. It finally dawned on her that it was her cell phone ringing in the kitchen.

She stood up feeling groggy. One glance at the clock on the microwave gave her the chills. It was four in the morning. Who would be calling at this hour? She hurried to her cell and saw it was Valerie. Clearing her throat, she answered it, her anxiety growing by the minute. This couldn’t be good.

“Romero’s uncle Max was shot last night.” Isabel’s heart nearly stopped and she held her breath as Valerie continued. “Alex overheard someone at the restaurant talking about a shooting at the Silver Dollar but he couldn’t get a hold of Romero. Romero finally returned his call late last night. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you ever since.”

Isabel wanted to tell her she’d fallen asleep on the sofa. That she hadn’t heard the phone ring until just now, but she couldn’t speak. Finally, she got her mouth to function. “Oh my God. Is he dead?”

“No, he was still alive the last time I spoke with Alex. He’s been at the hospital with Romero ever since Romero called him last night.” Valerie took a deep breath, her voice sounding very strained. “Honey, I know you’re mad at Romero. But I really think he could use your support right now. Alex said he’s in bad shape. Maybe… maybe you could at least call him.”

“What hospital?”

Isabel nearly ran right out after she hung up with Valerie but she felt so dirty from all the cleaning she’d done the night before that she decided to shower first. With her heart at her throat the entire time she got ready to go she didn’t know what to think. What would she say to him? What if Max died? Valerie said he was in critical condition. What could Isabel possibly say to Romero to make his pain any less?

Slipping into a pair of denim shorts and a cotton tee, she fumbled the neatly aligned flip-flops in her closet finding the army green ones that matched her top. She had no time to worry about make-up or her hair so she pulled her still wet hair into a ponytail and slathered a little face lotion on and a dab of lip-gloss.

A myriad of thoughts swam through her head as she drove to the hospital. It was only Thursday, but already this week felt like the longest of her life. Each day that passed got worse. Now this.

She hadn’t heard from Michael since Sunday and she still had no idea whether he was going forward with the charges against Romero, but then she had said she’d call him. She’d give it until the weekend and see if she heard anything between now and then.

As she pulled into the hospital, she was overcome with emotion. For all she knew Max could already be dead. Her heart ached for Romero—for Manny. She walked through the parking lot, her heart thudding even harder when she saw Romero’s car.

Alex walked out of the sliding door to the emergency room looking very grim just as she walked up to him. Isabel brought her hand to her mouth. “How is he?”

“So far, he’s better than he was last night. He got out of surgery about an hour ago.” He shrugged. “He was critical when he got here, now he’s critical but stable. So it’s touch and go.”

Come to think of it, Isabel had noticed something in Valerie’s voice when she’d spoken to her earlier. The shock of hearing about Max had overshadowed it. She also thought Valerie was just upset about Max. Alex started to walk away. “Romero is right inside.”

“Alex, have Valerie call me, or I’ll worry. Okay?”

He nodded and rushed off. The dark sky was beginning to take on a bluish hue with soft rays of pink and orange as the sun began to crest. Isabel stared at it, taking a very deep breath before stepping inside. The first thing she saw was Manny in a corner seat, eyes closed, leaning against Aida who had her arms around him. Romero sat two seats away in the near empty waiting room. He was hunched over, his elbows on his knees and his hands in his hair.

She gulped, trying to be strong. Even though Manny’s eyes were closed, she could see the area around them was red and swollen. She remembered Romero telling her how Manny was not ashamed to cry and she could only imagine all the crying he’d done tonight.

She walked over and took the seat next to Romero. He didn’t move at all and she brought her hand up, stopping just before it touched his back, afraid of what his reaction would be. Did he hate her now? Was he still angry at her? Finally, she let her hand touch his strong back and he lifted his head. His eyes widened when he turned and saw her.

“Izzy?” he said it as if questioning if it was really her.

She smiled trying to hold it together. “How’s Max?”

His eyes began to flood, but he was without expression. He hugged her. At first softly but every breath he took, he hugged her even harder. He didn’t say a word and she didn’t ask anything else, just ran her fingers through his hair until his breathing began to calm. Without letting go of her or even pulling away to face her he finally whispered against her ear, “Please don’t leave me. I promise I’ll try harder.” Slowly he pulled away and their eyes met. “I’m nothing without you, Izzy.”

She stared at his wet, worried eyes, not sure how to respond to that. Then she remembered Cici. Now wasn’t the time to discuss that. “We can talk about this later. Right now I just wanna be here for you.”

The worry never left his eyes but he took her hand and sat back. She sat back with him. “Do they know anything yet?”

Just as he was about to respond a door to the admitting room opened and a doctor walked out. They all sat up at once. Manny stood. The doctor walked up to them. He explained Max had been very lucky. The bullet had only nicked the top of his lung and had missed any vital arteries. “However, we’ll need to monitor him very closely for the next few days because anytime a lung is punctured in any way the patient runs the risk of developing fluid in the lungs very quickly which can then develop into pneumonia.”

Isabel saw the alarm in Romero’s eyes at the mention of the word and he stood. She stood with him.

“I don’t foresee that happening, everything looks good right now, but it’s always best to be cautious, so he will remain in the ICU for the next couple of days. The pain medication he’s on will keep him out for most of the day. I’d suggest you all go home and get some rest. Come back later tonight. That’s probably the earliest he’ll wake.” Seeing the apprehension on both Manny and Romero’s faces, the doctor added. “We’ll call you if there is any change. But I can assure you the worst is over.”

“Thank, God. Thank God! ” Manny said.

Aida hugged Manny and Isabel squeezed Romero’s hand.

Once outside a very drained looking Manny turned to Romero. “We’re going to grab some breakfast before heading home. You two wanna come with?”

The corner of his lip lifted, though he didn’t seem very happy, but then under the circumstances that was understandable. “Yeah. We have no idea why. Nick, my attorney, was getting ready to file my paperwork when he was notified the charges had been cancelled.”

Isabel couldn’t believe her plan had actually worked. It was the first good thing that had happened that week. They stopped at her car.

“Izzy, I’ll do anything to make this better. I’ll change. I promise. Just please tell me it’s not over.” He kissed her hand.

“I don’t want it to be over either, Romero.”

His face brightened a bit but there was still apprehension. “So we’ll work on it? I’ll work on it. I’ll do whatever you ask.”

Isabel stared at him. Her heart full of hope but two things still nagged at her terribly. Cici and Michael. She was going to have to tell him eventually. She wouldn’t run the risk of him finding out some other way. All that mattered now was that the charges had been dropped and Michael could never file them again. “We have to talk.”