I’d asked Spade for a one-night stand, and he’d agreed. He was probably relieved I only wanted sex since that seemed to be how things worked around here.
But why did he promise me he’d come back?
Thinking about Spade made my chest ache and my head spin. He was just supposed to be a one-night stand. I wasn’t supposed to be this effected by his absence.
“One night, babe. Don’t shortchange me.”
Onlyhe’dbeen the one to shortchangeme. Why? Was he disappointed in my body? Was my butt too big or my waist not narrow enough? Did the few stretchmarks on my boobs turn him off? Had I been too eager? Should I have played hard-to-get?
Why did he lie to me?
Since I had no answers or appetite left, I dumped the rest of my breakfast, put my cup and plate in the dishwasher and headed to work, determined to scrub the ‘Latino Lover” who’d abandoned me from my mind.
Spade
Twelve hours ago
AN EMO GIRL with bright purple pigtails, wearing a black bustier with painful-looking silver spikes sticking out of it sat behind the counter, watching me as I drifted through the small sex toy shop making my selections. There were so many options—so many things I wanted to try with Jessica—but I needed to start off slowly. It was clear she was as new to all of this as I was. “Apprehensive but curious,” she’d said, earning a smile from me.
I could work with curious.
Hell, just thinking about her curiosity made me hard again. I still couldn’t believe she’d shown up in my room wearing nothing but a nighty and a pair of heels under that coat. It was like she’d tapped into every single one of my fantasies and was using them to bring me to my knees. Now it was time for me to do the same for her. Adjusting myself, I put two sets of soft leather handcuffs in my basket. A blindfold and a flogger followed. Then I carried it all up to the counter and pulled out my wallet.
“Need anything else? Lube? Condoms?” the cashier asked, accentuating each syllable with a pucker of her lips that was probably meant to be seductive. Since I was in a hurry to get back to Jessica, I found it annoying as hell.
“No, ma’am.”
She seemed disappointed in my lack of flirting as she bagged up my purchases and ran my debit card. She gave me one last look beneath dark, fake eyelashes before handing over my bag and turning her attention to the next customer.
I carried everything out to my bike and stashed it all in the saddle bags. As I swung my leg over my seat, my cell phone rang. Since the shopping trip had already taken longer than I wanted, I considered ignoring it so I could hurry and get my ass back to Jessica. But, like usual, the sense of responsibility my parents had beat into me had me fishing out my phone and looking at the display. My great uncle Jaime was calling. Surprised and a little worried, I answered.
“Tonio.” Uncle Jaime’s voice sounded gruff, tired, off.
“Hey, Tio. What’s going on?” My grandfather’s brother didn’t make social calls. Hell, he rarely called anyone at all, preferring to hole up in some senior living apartment complex three hours south of the rest of the family. The only reason he even had a phone was because I bought him a cell, added him to my plan, and told him I’d staple the damn thing to his hand if I called and he didn’t answer. My parents would have lost their shit if they heard me talking to an elder like that, but Uncle Jaime and I had an unusual relationship. He acted like a crotchety old man who valued his privacy and independence above all, but I saw through his bullshit to the caring, giving man he kept hidden from the world.
He was a good man, and I intended to keep him breathing for as long as possible.
“It’s my stomach. It’s been hurtin’ like a motherfucker for a couple hours, but now the pain’s sharp and I can’t keep anything down.”
Uncle Jaime was tough—I’d never known him to complain about a single ache or pain—but I could hear the suffering in his voice. This was a man Mom harped on about going to the doctor for checkups. She claimed he was made of plexiglass and old leather, unbreakable and reeking like a worn dead carcass. He wouldn’t be reaching out to me if shit wasn’t serious. “That sounds bad. I’m gonna call an ambulance to take you to the hospital and get you checked out.”
“No. Those goddamn ambulance rides cost an arm and a leg, and I don’t have any body parts to spare.” He was trying to make light of the situation, but I heard the fear in his tone. Not much scared my uncle, but he was spooked.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes against the worry I felt building. “You need a doctor.”
“I know.” His breathing sounded labored. “No ambulance.”
Mom also called Uncle Jaime stubborn as a blood stain. If he was dead set on not taking an ambulance, the paramedics would have one hell of a time getting him loaded into one. Chances were, it would only complicate his condition and make matters worse. Throwing my head back, I stared at the sky and wondered if I was making a big mistake. Regardless of how much I called him out on his bullshit, it had been ingrained in me to respect my elders. I wouldn’t piss him off by ordering an ambulance he didn’t want and screwing him over financially. “Fine. I’m heading down now. I’ll be there as soon as possible. You better not die, old man.”
He snorted. “I’m old. I’ll die when I want.”
Not the reassurance I was looking for, but he wasn’t exactly sunshine and rainbows. The call disconnected. I shoved my phone back in my pocket, put on my helmet, threw out a quick Hail Mary, and started my bike. Surprisingly enough, the finicky piece of shit roared to life on the first try. I took it as a good sign… as a sort of truce it was making until this crisis passed. Maybe in return, I wouldn’t junk it after I found a replacement.
For a split second, I considered calling my father, but it would be a waste of time and he wouldn’t be able to do shit from Seattle. I could get to Portland faster on a bike than he could in a company truck, so I headed south like my ass was on fire.
While my bike ate up the miles, I thought about all the stories Uncle Jaime had shared with me over the years. Like me, he was the black sheep of the family. He and my grandfather grew up in the slums of Los Cabos where cartels battled over territory and aggressively recruited poor neighborhood kids. Grandpa and Uncle Jaime spent most of their childhood hiding from drug and gun dealers.
As teenagers, my grandfather worked and helped the family. Uncle Jaime set his sights on getting the hell out of the slums. By age eighteen, he’d taught himself enough English to make it over the California border and enlist in the US Army. Since he didn’t have the funds to immigrate the legal way, he decided to fight his way to freedom and show his allegiance through service. He fought in the Vietnam war, serving through most of the seventies.
