CHAPTER TWO: Demons and Rum

"If you let me stay over I'll try to keep you safe. I've got an army of skeletons to chase your demons away." - Matt Skiba

I made sure to follow he home, as usual. Not following close enough to look suspicious. Make sure I see the light go on in her apartment before I go. Vince looks a little confused but I really don't feel like explaining now. Vince was always good for knowing when not to ask too many questions. All I really want is to get some sleep right now. Not that Letty will let me. She's gonna let me have it when I get home, for sure. Nothing like a heated argument to end the day.

Seems we don't do a whole lot else these days. A lot of things have changed. All of us have changed. Mia doesn't smile like she used to. Leon's been fucking around like every day is his last. Letty, she's angry at the world. Me, I'm numb. I'm sick of pain, of fighting, of running. It's like all the sudden I feel the weight of everything I've been carrying that used to be so easy. Not that I ever minded being responsible for everyone, it was just never this hard before. I never let them down before.

Wait until I tell her Brian's staying. After she told me I'd better get rid of him, or she would. All I really wanted was some peace and quiet. Even if I had to tell Brian to beat it in order to get it. I honestly don't give a crap if he stays. We made our peace already. It's squashed. Letty won't see it that way though. She needs to blame someone I guess. It's Blanca that's gonna end up taking most of the heat when Letty finds out it was her idea though. She always does. As pissed off as Letty is at me most of the time, it even worse for Blanca. I actually deserve it.

She handles it well though. That's the way she is. Tough. Not tough like Letty, who would deck a guy for looking at her the wrong way. No, Blanca would just laugh it off and walk away. To her, it's not worth it. I'm starting to think that walking away might just be the tougher choice. She doesn't get mad when people screw up, or when they give her the cold shoulder, or are just straight up mean to her. Sometimes I think she knows something the rest of us don't. Something I probably need to learn.

She's got some dirty laundry of her own though. Not perfect by any means. She earned her good attitude if that makes sense. See, if you knew what I know? Well, it might make a lot more sense. It's something she doesn't like to talk about much. Only told me once in fact. Trying to talk me down from a drunken stupor. Well, it was a little more complicated than that. See, Letty and me had this fight and...

-Six months earlier-

It was late. Probably too late to be looking for a place to crash. The state I was in I knew I'd better though. I found myself at her door before I even knew I was walking there. It was raining and I was looking at the ground the whole way. And much to my surprise, my fist made contact with her door before I had time to realize where I was and what I was doing. It was a loud knock. And I kept knocking. I don't know why... this weird kinda desperation just hit me.

I can hear her stumbling to the door as she shouts, "Shit! I'm coming already!" I can just barely see a glow come from under her door as she turns a light on somewhere. The lock clicks open and the knob turns quickly as she opens the door. Like everything is going in slow motion. Her jaw drops a little at the sight of me. Soaking wet with a stupid smile on my face. I take a sip out of the paper bag in my hand. Rum. She looks at me confused, "Dom?" As if she didn't know it was me standing there.

"Hey, can I come in?" I ask. Like it was the most normal thing in the world. I don't like to get trashed for this exact reason. Don't like the feeling of not being in control. Don't like the idea that I could say or do something I'd regret the next morning. To look at me you'd never guess I felt like I might stumble if I tried to move. I'd like to keep it that way too.

"Yeah..." she replies, flattening herself against the door and gesturing for me to come in. As I pass her, I raise the bottle in her direction, offering her some, but she shakes her head. "No thanks."

I walk in a few steps and look around, nodding with approval. It's not the first time I'd been here. Just never alone. Never while it was so dark and she was in... well, not much. She must have been sleeping. Shit I'd better think fast. I hear her close and lock the door. The room was spinning though and I couldn't think straight. I say the first thing that comes to mind, "So, what are you doing?" Nice. Real nice.

She may have been half awake but she's still sharp as a tack. "What are you doing?"

"Whadya mean?" I say turning to face her, struggling not to slur.

With a look that was part concern and part amusement, she answers "Dom, it's four in the morning. What do you think I'm doing?" She smiles now and I know she's not mad. "The question is what are you doing in my living room. At four o'clock in the morning. Drinking out of a paper bag?" she says gesturing at the bottle in my hand.

I raise an eyebrow and wet my lips. So thirsty. I'm looking at her standing there with her hands on her hips when I notice for the first time that she's a woman. Not that I wasn't aware of the fact. Just that I never bothered to look at her that way before. It must have been the liquor swimming in my stomach. Combined with the fact that she was wearing a lot less than I was used to seeing her in. "Do you want me to leave?" I ask, knowing damn well I couldn't.

She folds her arms across her chest nervously, "Dom. I'm just asking what's going on. I mean you look like shit. Are you okay?"

Is it possible she's completely unaware how low cut that tank top is? Should I say something? Tell her to change? No, then she'll think I'm checking her out. Am I checking her out? Fuck, just answer her already. "Letty and I... we had a fight. I needed to get some air." I finally tell her. The truth. Not exactly something I intended to share. Probably my guilty conscious or something for even being here. I can see it now. Letty looking up at me, her lip curling with disgust as she asks me where the hell I've been.

"And a drink?" she says not missing a beat.

Before I can think better of it I shoot back at her, "God, you sound like her."

For a split second I think she might smack me. Instead, she offers "Do you wanna sit?" Yes. Yes I do. I make myself at home on the couch. On the very end so I can lean on the arm rest and to give her plenty of space so she doesn't have to sit anywhere near me. But she sits on the coffee table in front of me instead. Scooting back and folding her legs indian style in front of her. Then she reaches out and grabs the bottle from my hand. Takes a whiff and makes a funny face before setting it down on the table next to her. "So..." she nods awkwardly.

What the fuck she just took my rum. I must have had a look on my face because she picks up the bottle again and turns it over to illustrate her point. Not a drop comes out. Shit, I hadn't even realized I finished it. This wasn't a good idea. I lean forward, about to stand. Or try to. "I'm sorry I woke you up. I'll let you get back to bed." I say avoiding eye contact.

Before I can stand, she puts her hand on my arm. Not the first time she ever touched me before either, but it was different now too. She stops me, "Wait, I'm up. I'm awake. Bring it on."

Nice choice of words. I gotta get my head out of the gutter. Just keep talking, "It was a stupid fight, you know how it goes. Sometimes I just can't breathe with her around all the time looking at me like that." Again with the too much information thing. I'm just trying to tell her enough to get her drop the subject. Oh, I'm not drinking again for a real long time.

"Women aren't always easy to live with." She says with a shrug.

Trying to talk my way out of this particular conversation I mutter, "I don't even wanna think about it anymore."

A mischevious grin stretches across her face, "Okay. So go ahead." She pauses sitting up a little straighter and folding her hands together, like she was a kid in school sitting at her desk, just as the teacher walked in the room. "Ask me anything." She tilts her head in a way I just might dare to describe as cute. If I dared.

"What?" I ask her. Am I that fucked up? What is she talking about?

She shrugs as if I should know, "If you wanna forget about it, you gotta think about something else right? It's the ask me anything game. A free pass to ask me anything you want."

Well now, that makes a whole lotta sense. I forget sometimes how used to dealing with drunk people she must be. "Anything?" I ask desbelievingly.

"Anything." she repeats.

I rub my chin, trying to appear deep in thought. I could think of a shitload of completely inappropriate questions right now but that's not gonna help. Something simple. So I ask the first thing I can think of, "Is your name really Blanca?"

It gets a laugh out of her at least, "No..." she says scratching the back of her neck uncomfortably.

Okay, now I'm intrigued. "So what is it?" I ask, sitting up a little. This could prove to be more interesting than I thought.

She looks away nervously. Not the Blanca I'm used to. "Swear you won't tell anybody, not even Mia." she says looking at me again, covering her mouth with her hand like she's holding back a secret or a laugh.

I give. She can be damn cute when she wants to be. I laugh for the first time all night as she looks at me with this expectant nervousness. Trying to hold back another chuckle I put a hand on my heart and say, "Okay, I swear."

"Annabelle." She says as if the name was foreign to her.

I smile, "Annabelle?" I ask in disbelief. Definitely doesn't look like an Annabelle to me. But what the fuck do I know?

She rolls her eyes as if she expected this reaction, "Most people just called me Annie."

I lean towards her with my shoulders, my elbows on my knees. "So why does everyone call you Blanca?" The question came out of my mouth before I could even think about it. At least it was a good question.

"I guess you could say it's a nickname that stuck." She answers still on the defensive.

I fire off another question before she can change her mind about this little game. "Where are you from?" I ask, daring to push on her a subject she's made clear she's not interested in discussing. With anyone.

"Pacific Palisades." She says like the words leave a bad taste in her mouth or something.

I knew she lived in Cali. That's about it. But Pacific Palisades is a pretty classy neighbourhood. Nicer part of LA than we lived, that's for sure. "Seriously?" I say thinking maybe she's just messing with me. "So what are you like rich or something?"

She shakes her head though and with a shrug of her shoulders answers, "Seriously."

From the look on her face I can tell my reaction is the reason why she doesn't tell people about where she's from. And for the life of me I don't understand why she chose me to tell it to. I take a deep breathe and let it sink in. "Annabelle... Annabelle from Pacific Palisades."

"You're the only person who knows." she says softly.

"What are you on the run too?" I laugh, trying to relax her.

It works. She smiles, "No. I'm just afraid of what people might think. If they knew..."

This shocks me more than anything she just said. "You? Who could care less what people think of you?" I ask. Her face changes. I see sadness in her eyes. Like Mia's got. Always staring off at nothing. I don't get it.

"You wouldn't say that if you knew the whole story." she whispers.

I shake my head, "So what's the whole story?" I ask, putting my arms out as if to say what could possibly so bad. She hesitates for a second and pulls one of her legs to her chest. Hugging it as she rests her chin on her knee. She looks me. Not just a look. No, this one was different. I felt it. She was letting me in. Somewhere I had no business going, but couldn't resist if I tried. I knew this was it. Everything from this point on would change. Maybe, it already had.

Up until now, we were casual friends I guess. She's only really tight with Mia. But I do respect her. Helped us out with no strings attached. No nonsense and girly drama. Tries her best to be friendly even though most of us aren't great company lately. But we don't hang out or anything. Not just the two of us. That's why its so weird that I came here. Almost as weird as this conversation.

She doesn't look at me but starts her story, "In California, I had the kind of life most people dream of. Nice house, fancy car, expensive clothes all that stuff. Well, all that superficial stuff. See, my Dad was in real estate. Did real well too. I had everything I ever asked for growing up. My mom never worked a day in my life. But they weren't around much, you know. Too busy at some party or function or whatever it is they did. They loved me. I know they did. I had the best education money could buy and they came to all my soccer games. Showed me off to all their friends. It was never enough for them though. They didn't know how to be happy with what they had. They were always looking for the next best thing..." She pauses as if she's someplace far away for a second.

She lift her chin and continues. "Me and my brother, Jacob, we learned to take care of ourselves. I was always the good one. Always did what I was told and ate all my vegetables. Had the right kind of friends. My brother on the other hand. He was a couple years older. Figured out pretty quickly that you can get away with a lot when no one is paying attention. He didn't like rules but he was smart and charming, like my dad. You know the type of guy who could sell ice to an Eskimo? He got away with everything." She smiles as she mentions her brother.

"My parents didn't get along so well with each other though. They were really good at faking it in public. Because it was more important to them to present a certain kind of image to their friends than it was to just get a divorce I guess. So they fought a lot when they were home. And drank too much. I can't tell you how many times I would wake up to the sound of my Dad barrelling through the house and up to bed. I would get up to make sure everything was okay and see the lights still on downstairs. Which meant I was gonna find my mom passed out on the living room couch with an empty glass in her hand. Dark red wine stains on her mouth. Everybody copes in their own way, right? Well, one day. They didn't make it home." I can see tears well up in her eyes. She wipes at them quickly and fights it back.

"They were coming home from a party. Free booze is never good for people who don't know when to say stop. And no one ever said stop. No one ever said 'Hey John, how bout I call you a cab?' or anything... They probably got into an argument on the way home. He always drove like a crazy person when they argued in the car. And my Dad crashed. Right into a tree. Going around a turn way too fast. Police report says they didn't have their seat belts on. It was bad. Late at night so no one saw what happened. By the time someone did come by. It was too late. They were gone before the ambulance even got there." I can see she's struggling to keep it together. I want to tell her to stop. That it's okay. She doesn't have to tell me.

She swallows hard though and continues, "Shit hit the fan after that. They left us everything. A lot of money. People, relatives, all came out of the woodwork. Everyone wanted to be my friend. Wanted a piece of the pie. People who I hadn't seen in years. I didn't know who to trust anymore. I stayed with Jacob at the house for awhile. But he starting using a lot. I mean he smoked some pot before. Drank with the guys. Just boys being boys stuff though. This was serious. And the more I tried to beg him not to, the more he pushed me out of his life. I felt like my world was just spinning out of control. So I got on a bus one day. And never looked back. Didn't tell anyone. Somehow I ended up in Baja. And as soon as I saw this bar I fell in love with it. It looked like I felt I think. So I fixed it up. And a couple years later, you walk in and here we are." She finishes taking a deep breathe.

She looked at me now, with no shame or anger or fear. And smiles at me. That is some serious stuff she went through. Now I get why she never told us. I wouldn't have. I told you she was tough though didn't I? I look right back at her. Not sure what to say. Focus on her eyes, icy blue. Never noticed them before either. A little alcohol is good for that though, huh. What am I supposed to say after that? Simple's always better, that what Mia tells me. "You were wrong." I say feeling a wave of warmth wash over me.

She hugs both her knees to her chest now. Tilts her head to the side, "Bout what?' she asks.

Don't ask me why. Don't ask me what I was thinking. I wasn't. But I lean closer to her. I know what I would normally do in this situation. I could bust out that smooth charm and have her eating out of the palm of my hand in a second. Almost too easy. But why? She doesn't need me. I have nothing to offer her. Maybe it's just me, wanting to be needed. Maybe I'm the one who's lonely. Either way, in spite of my better judgement, I reach my hand toward her and brush the hair from her eyes as I say, "I still see the same person."

Our eyes lock. But all I see looking back at me is shock. I was right. She even recoils a little at my touch. Probably thinks I'm a complete jackass. Some sleaze bag trying to take advantage of her vulnerability or something. She gets up from the table quickly and changes the subject asking me, "Did you drive here?"

"No." I say putting rubbing my forehead. God, what the hell am I doing here. Screwed up, again.

She starts to walk away from me, stopping she turns and says, "Give me a minute to get dressed and I'll take you home."

Hell no, I think as I tell her "You don't have to."

"You're drunk Dom. How else are you going to get home? Would you rather I call Letty and tell her to come get you?" she dryly asks and it stings to hear her say it. I know exactly what she's implying too. Letty's at home while I'm here drunk, trying to put the moves on another woman.

I close my eyes tightly. I can feel the headache coming already just thinking about trying to explain this to Letty. I decide to bite the bullet figuring what she would have in store for me would be much worse than anything Blanca would say, "I can't go back. Not now. I'm drunk and she's pissed off. We both need some time to cool off."

"Okay..." she says scratching her head with her other hand on her hip. Now I'm the one avoiding looking at her as she asks "Well, do you wanna stay here?"

I look up at her for a second, "Where?" I ask.

"You're sitting on it." She says quickly before my mind has a chance to process the other options. "I'll go get you a pillow and stuff. Give me your clothes. I'll hang them up to dry. You're soaked and you're gonna ruin my couch."

I stand up, barely, and turn away saying nothing as she goes off to get me the pillow and stuff. What a jerk I am. Well, at least I'm used to everyone being pissed at me. It's a lot of work getting wet clothes off. Well, when you're wasted that is. Thankfully she gets back just in time to miss my little 'dance'. I hear her footsteps on the floor and turn around. She looks at me for a couple seconds. Ha, she just checked me out! Her eyes look everywhere but at me as she catches herself staring. I smile, "Thanks for letting me crash."

"Yeah, no problem." She says handing me the pillow and stuff. I toss them on the couch behind me and struggle to pick my clothes up off the floor without looking like a drunk. She adds, "There are towels in the bathroom. Help yourself to anything you need." stumbling nervously over her words. And she just nods and turns to walk away.

Something catches my eye though and I reach out and grab her by the shoulder to stop her without even thinking. She freezes and I loosen my grip. Run my hands across her back. Feathers, lots of feathers. I brush her hair aside to get a better look. I thought I was seeing things but I was right. I step back. Wings. Two wings tattooed in black ink in the middle of her shoulders. She turns her head back towards me just a little. Her skin is... really soft. I can't take my eyes off it. Off her. "I didn't know you had tattoos. How did I miss that?" I say mesmerized.

She says over her shoulder, "I got it after my parents died." Her body relaxes though and she finishes, "I prayed for an angel. To come and save me. To take me away. I was naive. No one was going to save me. This was as close as I was ever gonna get to an angel." She pulls her hair over her shoulder so I can see it better but never tries to look at me.

I step back to get a better view. It's actually a pretty beautiful tattoo. And so, I'm noticing, is she. "I like it." I say as if it mattered what I thought.

"What would that be?" She asks. Eyebrow raised she turns around to face me but when she sees the hint of surprise on my face she laughs. Then she walks towards me. And panic hits me. What is she gonna do? She looks me dead in the eye until she comes within inches of me.

What am I gonna do? I have to say something, "Listen..."

She bends down and stops me in my tracks though. And makes me glad I didn't finish what I was about to say. She picks up the clothes I didn't even realize I had dropped and turns to walk away. "Goodnight Dom." she trails off as she goes.

Didn't matter what else I said or did from that point on though. Things would never be the same between us. I could never go back to seeing her the way I did before today. I felt more, I don't know... connected with her than I had with anyone in a long time. Like electricity. And it scared me. Not to feel that way, but to feel that way about her. Not Letty. Not at all what I expected.

-present-

We never spoke about that night. It was all business after that. We avoided being alone together. Avoided anything that might look suspicious in front of the others. Which is totally paranoid, I know. But it just seemed like the only way to handle it at the time and we just kept doing it. And I kept knocking on her door. Whenever Letty and I have a bad fight. Doesn't matter how late it is. Doesn't matter what the fight is about. She would just open the door and smile. I go in and sit down on the couch while she gets me a pillow and stuff. She hands them to me in silence. Just putting a hand on my head and kissing the top of it. And that's it. I would watch her walk back to her room and close the door behind her. And it gets harder every time not to stop her...

Back at my place now I show Vince to his spot for the night. Sofa city. We'll figure out something more permanent in the morning. As I open the door to my room I feel guilty to be grateful Letty isn't there. I undress and crawl into bed. Sleep doesn't come easy though. Demons in my head won't quit. It's awhile later when I hear the door creak open and I close my eyes. Pretending to be asleep. Letty gets into the bed leaving huge valley of space between us.

"Is it taken care of?" she asks me. Knowing me too well to believe I'm asleep.

I sigh, "He's not leaving."

"I thought we talked about this when Vince called and said they were coming? I thought we agreed he wasn't welcome here!?" she says, her voice filled with so much attitude.

Here we go again, "Blanca... hired him."

Still lying with her back to mine she spits, "So now you expect me to work with him?"

"You can quit if you want." I say already defeated.

"I shouldn't have to." she answers, making sure I feel every syllable.

Maybe she's right. Maybe it's her back I should have, not Brian's or Blanca's. But it's a whole lot easier to be nice to people when they're not pissed at you all the time. "Look, what do you want from me?" I ask. Her disapproval is pretty much a given at this point so it's an honest question.

I hear the sheets rustle as she sits up. I don't move. I can see the look on her face already anyway as she snaps at me, "What do I want from you? I want you to do something. Ever since you got here all you've done is sit around and feel sorry for yourself. What the fuck happened to you?"

"Things change." Is all I can think to say.

I hear a sharp smack ring in my ears as she slaps her hand down, probably on her thigh. "Don't give me that bullshit! We all lost something. We've all changed."

I roll over onto my back and stare at the ceiling rubbing a hand on my forehead, "I don't wanna fight."

"Of course not." she says as she rolls back over and away from me as she continues to mutter to herself, "That would require too much effort." She must be tired too because I usually don't get off that easy. I'm glad to leave it at that.

More than happy to escape with a little disagreement. Beats the usual knock down drag out fights we usually have. Doors slamming. Shouting and throwing things. Mia and Leon avoid coming home a lot these days so they don't have to deal with it. Which I think makes it worse. The house feels so empty now. Not like in LA. I miss the way things used to be. I think even Letty is starting to get tired of it. Almost that is. There's still a part of her that feeds on it. That likes to get me mad. Just to see the fire back in me. What, you think I didn't notice? I'm no shrink but that's pretty obvious. I just choose to ignore it.

But that's no way to live, is it? She deserves better than that. I have no right to be angry at her. She didn't do anything wrong. This situation is ultimately my fault, not hers, or my sister's or my friends'. I made my own bed. No one to blame but myself. I should be grateful to her for even putting up with me at all. So why then do I find myself starting fights with her. Just to have an excuse to leave and get some peace and quiet. In the only place I can anymore. The one place I shouldn't.