Rock Chick 07 Regret (81 page)

I didn’t finish because Hector moved. One second I was struggling and ranting while sitting in his lap, the next second I was on my back on the couch and he was on top of me.

This knocked the breath out of me so all I could do was stare at his face which had gone that soft, hard possessive, the look in his eyes was uber-warm.

Softly he announced, “All right,
mamita
, we got that out of the way, one more thing.”

I expelled the breath caught in my lungs and snapped, “What?”

This, for some bizarre reason, made him smile. It also made him touch his lips to mine for a quick kiss.

When he was done kissing me, he said, “
Tu padre
,
mi cielo
, it’s unlikely he’s ever gonna welcome me with open arms. What you and I got plays out like I think it will, you gotta know that and be able to deal.”

“You’re wrong,” I told him and watched his eyes narrow. “Totally wrong,” I whispered, the fight and anger left me and I wrapped my arms around him. “He wants me to be happy. It’ll take time but he’ll come around.”

Hector shook his head, I nodded mine.

Then his whole face went warm. “Sadie, you’re settin’ yourself up for disappointment if you think that way.”

“Hector,” I returned quietly, “trust me.”

He bit his lip, looked over my head for a second then back at me. “Just guard your heart,
mi amor
, that’s all I’m sayin’.”

I lifted my head, touched my mouth to his and then, keeping my mouth against his, I whispered, “Okay.”

His body relaxed into mine.

My hand slid up his back and into his hair while I dropped my head back to the couch and asked, “Now, are you spending the night or what?”

At that, he granted me a glamorous, white smile.

Then he spent the night.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Gardenias

Sadie

Hector and I stood together in the little, gray room.

My body was tense and ramrod straight, I was staring out the bars on the window but seeing nothing.

Hector was standing behind me close, his extraordinary heat beating into my back, his arm around my waist, his chin brushing the hair on the top of my head.

For some bizarre reason, I was worried about what I was wearing.

Daisy, Ralphie, Roxie, Tod and Stevie and I spent five exhausting hours at the mall trying to find the exact right First Visit to Your Incarcerated Father Outfit. Even though they assured me it was absolutely perfect, I was uncertain.

I needed my father to know who I was. The Real Sadie. The one who owned her own gallery. Who moved in with Hector “Oh my God” Chavez the Sunday before last, the day after my ordeal was officially over. Who spent her days hanging at Fortnum’s with the girls and Ralphie, redesigning her burnt out gallery. Who, thanks to Blanca, now knew how to cook tamales from scratch and they were tasty. Who begged her boyfriend to take her out on his motorcycle after dinner which he did but only after making her get creative, earning the ride in a variety of delicious ways. And, who, last weekend, by his side, refinished his living room floor.

But even so, I didn’t want to be too in your face about it.

That would be rude.

I was wearing a new pair of Lucky jeans, a camel-colored, tailored cotton blouse that fit snug up my sides and midriff and showed a hint of cleavage at the opened buttons (this made Hector’s mouth go tight, which was good, since it kept it shut), a chocolate-brown suede belt with a heavy silver buckle, a pair of kickass (Daisy’s words) dark brown boots that were both stylish but also rock ‘n’ roll and a chocolate brown suede, two button, blazer. My hair was down and wild, falling on my shoulders, down my back and sometimes in my face (my father hated my hair down, said a lady wore her hair back or up, anything else was common). I was wearing long, wide, gold hoop earrings (a surprise present from Hector that he gave me the night I moved in with him, how he managed to shop, I don’t know, but he did) and my mother’s initial necklace was at my throat.

The outfit looked casual but cost a blooming fortune.

I loved it, it was me but I knew my father would hate it.

“I’m scared to death,” I whispered to the window.

Hector’s arm got tight, his chin left my hair and I felt his mouth go to my neck. He was kissing me there when the door opened.

I jumped and turned.

Hector didn’t jump nor did he drop his arm but his head came out of my neck and he moved with my turn.

My father stood there, wearing prison blues but, other than that, looking surprisingly just like my father. Face tan, hair well-groomed, body fit, he made prison blues look like the next big thing in men’s fashion.

I wanted to say something but didn’t know what. I had practiced a lot of openings, none of which I remembered at the crucial moment and, in my hesitation, I caught the killing look my father was giving Hector.

This, of course, robbed me of speech, not that I knew what to say anyway, but still.

“You think I could spend some time with my fucking daughter without you standing there with your hands on her?” my father asked Hector.

Oh boy.

This was not a good start.

“Daddy –” I said but my voice sounded small.

My father didn’t even look at me.

Surprisingly, Hector moved.

He got in front of me, grabbed my hand, gave it a squeeze and I knew he intended to go.

I looked up at him, beginning to panic and blurted, “I don’t want you to go.”

“I’ll be right outside.”

“Hector –”

Another hand squeeze then a repeated, “Right outside,” before he touched his lips to mine and, without a glance at my father, he left.

So did the security guard.

My father and I were alone.

Blooming heck.

“You get a kick out of that, Sadie? Bringing him here and shoving him in my face?”

I stared at him.

I felt my heart start to beat faster and waited for it to happen. I waited for who Hector called Stepford Sadie to slip into place. I waited for the automatic dutiful daughter to arrive and be apologetic and hide the fact that Hector was in my life or promise to get rid of him altogether.

Instead, Stepford Sadie, now good and dead, didn’t appear.

“I’m sorry if that upset you but you already know he’s in my life,” I answered softly.

“He won’t be for long,” my father returned.

My body went stiff. “Why’s that?”

“Been lookin’ into Hector Chavez,” he replied, his tone cold. “He’s got a string of pieces, Sadie, you’re just the most recent one.”

I let out a breath and shook my head. “I know about the other women.”

“Then you aren’t as smart as I raised you to be.”

“I’m living with him.”

“Then you
really
aren’t as smart as I raised you to be.”

I stared at him.

He stared back.

This went on for awhile.

I was not going to give in.

I knew he wouldn’t either.

So it went on for awhile longer.

To my shock, he finished the stare down by asking, “Are we done?”

And, also to my shock, I had the perfect retort, “I don’t know, Daddy, are we?”

It was clear he didn’t expect this answer and also clear he didn’t understand it.

I decided to explain.

“You have two choices. One, you stay the way you became after Mickey Balducci murdered Mom and that means we go our separate ways. I won’t be a party to that kind of relationship with my father. Or two,” I stopped, went to the vinyl couch where my bag was, I pulled out a large photograph, a duplicate of the picture I took from Mom’s storage locker (the original now residing in some boxes in Hector’s spare room, waiting for the downstairs to be finished). I turned back to my father, walked to him, closer this time, the picture turned to face him. “We can go back to this. A family. Even without Mom with us.” I shoved the photo at him and his eyes didn’t move from it. “Take it,” I said. “I’m allowed to give it to you.”

Slowly, his eyes moved from the picture to me.

I took a stunned step back at what I saw.

Pain.

Utter, devastated, unhidden pain.

What was in his face sliced deep through me so deep I whispered an uncertain, “Daddy?”

“Where’d you find that?” he whispered back.

“One of Hector’s friends found Mom’s stuff.”

He wasn’t listening, his eyes were fastened at my neck and I watched in horror as the color drained out of his face.

All of a sudden, he tore his eyes from my throat, walked by me without looking at me to the window where he stopped.

His back to me, he stared out the glass

Then he said, “Get out.”

My body jerked as if he struck me.

“What?”

“I know what you’re doing Sadie. It’s clear you’re here with Chavez, with those things, to get a piece of me. Take it, cherish it and get the fuck out.”

I stood, stunned immobile for a second then my heart started beating, my blood started pumping and I stomped to the table in the room, put the photo on it and stomped to the window, right in front of my father.

“I will not get out,” I snapped.

His eyes didn’t move but he put his hands in his pants pockets and stared over my head.

“Look at me,” I demanded.

He didn’t look. It was like I didn’t exist.

I shoved his shoulders with both hands and yelled, “Dad! Look at me!”

Only his cold eyes tilted so he could look down his nose at me.

“I know everything.
Everything,
” I told him and he just kept looking down his nose at me so I repeated, “I know everything about you.”

I watched his lip curl before he said, “You don’t know shit.”

“I know you loved her,” I shot back. “I know your parents weren’t nice to you. I know she loved you too. I know that you were her world. I know you were mine too, once, before she went away. I know you fed me in the night when I was a baby –”

“Shut up, Sadie.”

“I know if I hurt myself, I went to you –”

“Sadie, shut up!”

“I know when I got up all sleepy, if you were home, I’d go directly to you –”

His hands shot out of his pockets, grabbed onto my arms and shook me hard as he shouted, “
Shut up!
”

“
I will not shut up and I will not get out!
” I screamed in his face. “Decades ago, I had a father! I want him back!”

He shoved me away, I went back two feet, righted my involuntary retreat and advanced again, grabbing onto his shirt with both fists and shaking.

“You used to kiss my head and tuck me into bed –”

His hands wrapped around my wrists and he pulled but I held on tight.

“Why’d you leave me? Once she was gone, I needed you!”

His body went still and his chin tipped down so he could look at me.

“You didn’t need me,” he said.

“I did,” I returned.

“No, you didn’t.”

“
I did!
” I screamed.

“I killed her.”

It was my body’s turn to go still.

“What?”

“I didn’t pull the trigger but what I did put her in that position so I might as well have been the one to blow her head off.”