I stared at my illuminated phone for what could have been seconds or hours. Then I flipped it shut.
My eyes moved to Buddy and Ralphie’s door and I willed it to stay closed.
Then I thought about how my life was such a f**king mess and it was all down to my f**king father and the f**king Balduccis.
Then I wondered why Hector was coming over. I mean, I get a nasty phone call in the middle of the night and five minutes later he calls and says he’s coming over?
How bizarre was that?
All of this must have taken ten minutes because I heard a knock at the door.
I ran down the stairs and with my ear to the door I called, “Who is it?”
“Me,” Hector said.
I unlocked and opened the door.
He put a hand to my belly, shoved me back, stepped in, closed the door behind him, twisted and locked it. After locking it, he turned to me, my mouth opened to say something and he pulled me roughly into his arms and held me tight.
The panic crawling through my system slid away instantly and I sagged into him.
I took a shaky breath then tilted my head back to look at him. “What are you doing here?”
“Brody, our computer guy, patched into your cell. We monitor your calls and we can listen to them. Jack heard Marty Balducci, he called me, I came.”
Oh my.
Simple as that. He called me, I came.
I dropped my head and rested my forehead against his chest. Hector’s tight arms got tighter.
“He’s not gonna hurt you.”
I wanted to laugh. I did not.
“They’ve already hurt me. One of them raped me, another one attacked me in an alley and tried to kidnap me in order that he could rape me!” I whispered on a hiss directly to his chest.
“Mamita, look at me.” His tone was gentle.
I shook my head.
“Sadie, look at me.” This time, his tone was firm.
I sighed and then looked at him.
“He’s not gonna hurt you.”
I shook my head again.
“I’m tellin’ you, mi corazón, he’s not gonna hurt you.”
Instead of fighting him, I shoved my face in his chest. I did this mainly because I figured I wouldn’t win.
I also knew what “mi corazón” meant. It meant, “my heart” and I didn’t even have to ask Jet if that was a step up in endearments.
I realized that my arms were around him and I brought my cold hands up to the heat of his chest. I was still carrying my cell phone and now I wanted to throw it into a margarita pitcher. He stroked my back for awhile until I couldn’t fight it (it felt too nice) and I started to relax into him.
He must have felt the tension leave me but he held my relaxed body for even longer until it seemed kind of weird that we were standing there, not talking, just him holding me.