Chapter 14

Steph

My heart was pounding, my head swirling and my breaths were escaping me in short pants by the time we stumbled off the dance floor. I'd been putting in the work at the Rangeman gym to improve my stamina and formalise the self-defence training Bobby and Lester had started a year ago, even though I failed to see how it was necessary for my job. But my ability to run a few miles while keeping my breathing fairly even apparently did not translate to the fast Latin dances Carlos had led me through. I knew the basic steps well enough from the dance classes I'd taken in college, but nothing could have prepared me for this intensity.

Even having just completed a slow song, my breathing was ragged. Although, that could have something to do with the fact that Carlos's body had been pressed firmly (and I mean firmly) up against mine the entire time. My core temperature and heavy breathing had shifted from being due to the warmth of the club and the extra exertion, to because of my pooling desire and the way Carlos's hands felt on my body.

As the song ended, I felt sure that he was about to kiss me, but then his eyes refocused and he took a microstep backwards. "We should get you some water," he said, wrapping his arm around my back and guiding me back to our table.

I slid into the booth just the same as earlier, noting that while he still followed me on the same side, there were an extra couple of inches between us on the bench seat. I didn't comment on it, but my heart did sink a little.

As Jenny arrived magically at the end of our table with two sweating bottles of water without needing to be asked, I stared off into the crowd of writhing bodies, wondering if there was something I was doing wrong that had prevented Carlos from closing the distance just now. I thought the signals I'd been giving him on the dance floor were pretty clear. I wanted him to kiss me. Hell, with his leg pressed between mine, rubbing the seam of my pants tightly against my core, I was close to the edge of orgasm. His face had been a breath away from mine, his eyes intent on my mouth. I parted my lips, eyes drifting closed as his arms tightened around me, our movements slowing to a stop. And then…

Nothing.

Unable to control my reaction to the memory, a frustrated snort escaped me, and I flicked that one stubborn curl out of my face, snatching up the water Carlos had slid towards me and taking a long pull.

"Everything okay, Babe?" he asked, eyeing me with his own water paused in front of his lips, obscuring part of his stubbornly unrevealing expression. I hated that look. I hated not knowing what was going on behind his eyes, and I hated how even as frustrated with the man as I was, I wanted to kiss him even more, to wipe the blank mask away and get him to show me how he felt behind it. Unmasked the way he had been for just a few moments before he came back to his tightly controlled self.

"Fine," I assured him, shaking my head adamantly and watching the room spin.

Or maybe, I thought, carefully setting my bottle back on the table before I spilled it as my whole body felt like it was still swirling through the tangle of bodies. Maybe he could tell I was on the drunk side of tipsy and was doing the honourable thing by not taking advantage of me. Yeah, that was probably it.

When my vision settled and I felt stable once more, I reached up to re-secure the hair that was falling out of the messy bun at the nape of my neck, doing my best to keep my head still to avoid another dizzy spell. "I'm getting a little tired," I said, swiping a hand over my brow before finally looking at him again, noting that he was eyeing me with concern. "Do you think you can drive me home?"

He nodded, immediately sliding out of the booth, and snatching up our coats from the opposite side as I gingerly got back to my feet. Luckily, I remained steady enough to not sway until he'd straightened and wrapped his arm around my back again, giving me the extra support I needed to not trip over my own feet or veer heavily to the left while trying to head straight.

The chill night air hit my overheated skin as the door opened and a shiver ran down my spine. It felt nice. Refreshing. I tipped my head back to let the gentle breeze sweep over me. I did stumble then. Probably should have warned Carlos I was slowing down, because as he took an extra step that I didn't follow, his hand at my back pushed me forward, I over-balanced and almost fell face first on the sidewalk.

"Babe," he said, but the way he said it made me think what he really meant to say was, "You're so drunk." Yeah, probably a good thing he'd refrained from kissing me. I'd probably have slobbered on him and embarrassed myself.

In the next instant, I found myself scooped up into his arms as he carried me to the passenger side of the Porsche, deftly opening the door without dropping me, and depositing me inside. "Let's get you home." He helped me with my seatbelt, then draped my coat over my lap, patting it twice against my knee to make sure it didn't slip before he closed the door and made his way round to the driver-side door.

When he started the car, the same soft classical music that had been on during the drive to the club started up again, and between the gentle lull of the music, the comforting vibrations of the car engine and the alcohol working it's way through my system, I started to feel sleepy. I turned to rest my head against the backrest, kicking off my shoes and tucking my feet up under me as I tugged the coat up over my shoulder, watching Carlos drive for a few minutes until my eyes drifted closed.

I don't know how long I had been curled like that, in that hazy no man's land between asleep and awake when I heard a soft sigh fall from Carlos's lips. And then, in a voice so low and quiet I questioned if he were even speaking at all, he started telling me about the skip he and Lester had been going after. How when they'd reached the guys house, even though it appeared no one was home, there was something in his gut telling him to go inside. So they did. They searched the house from top to bottom, looking for clues to where he might be hiding if he wasn't there. And then he'd entered the basement and found the little girl chained to the small cot in the back corner. Unconscious, naked, and clearly abused.

I couldn't have stopped the sob that escaped me if I'd tried, but I wish I'd tried just a little, because the way his voice abruptly cut off shattered my already bruised heart. That poor girl! No wonder Carlos had been so over the edge when he returned from the job.

Blinking open my eyes, even as tears escaped them, I stared at Carlos's profile in the glow cast by the lights of my apartment building parking lot and wondered how long we'd been stopped. His jaw was set, eyes fixed forward, a hard expression covering the anguish I could still see beneath it.

"I thought you were asleep," he said flatly.

"Sorry," I murmrred, too afraid to move from my curled position lest it trigger something deeper that he couldn't control. He clearly hadn't meant for me to hear him. "I almost was, but then you started talking."

He shook his head harshly, brow furrowing as he squinched his eyes shut tightly. "I shouldn't have said anything," he growled, his grip tightening on the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. And if anything, seeing him like this, actively trying to shut me out after having opened up to me enough to reveal what had hurt his heart, was harder than seeing him fight Tank. "I didn't want to burden you with-" he cut himself off, seeming to instantly revert back to his ultra calm state, expression blank as a faceless mannequin, and shoulders relaxing like the last few minutes of tension hadn't wound them almost to his ears. "I'll take you upstairs," he announced suddenly, opening his door and climbing out before I had a chance to grasp what he was saying. What had changed.

And then he was at my side, the door open, his hand extended to assist me out of the car. "You don't need to walk me up," I assured him, pushing my coat aside to find my shoes on the floor and shove my feet into them. "You can-"

"Please, Steph," he said, just a hint of the emotion from before creeping back into his voice.

I managed to get out of the car, and close the door, but tipped sideways when I tried to put my arms through the sleeves of my jacket and my head spun again the way it had in the club. Carlos grabbed my elbow, preventing me from going down, and helped guide me into the coat without further incident before tucking me into his side as we started toward the door of the building. "I just need to make sure you make it up the stairs without braining yourself on a bannister," he muttered against my hair.

*o*

A loud, rhythmic banging startled me from what might have been a peaceful sleep the next morning, but I couldn't be sure, because the second I was awake, I was all too aware of the splitting headache and the nausea rolling in my gut. I didn't think I'd drunk that much last night, but apparently my body didn't appreciate it either way and had decided to rebel.

For a moment, I was transported back to the last time I'd woken feeling like death to the sound of someone banging on my front door. Only it hadn't been a door. Images of Dickie and Joyce on the table, sounds of ceramics shattering, hoarse screams and the phantom bite of a bitter and relentless cold hitting my face rushed back to me, seizing painfully in my gut for a moment until I managed to take a deep breath and let it out slowly. That had been over a year ago. And while it still hurt to think about, I was grateful that I was no longer stuck in a toxic, loveless marriage.

I rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling as the banging continued, morphing into the steady beating bass of music from the club last night, pulsing through me. A tingle ran through me as I recalled the press of Carlos's body, the clear evidence of how affected he, too, was by our positions and movements. I saw the way his eyes had gone half lidded, skimming over my face to land on my lips. Moving in… so close… almost there… and then -

My alarm blared beside my head, adding to the cacophony of noise I'd managed to incorporate into my memories, and I groaned, slapping at the device until it stopped and rolling out of bed to go see to whoever was so insistent they had to see me this early on a Thursday morning.

As I reached the entryway, I recalled the brush of Carlos's fingers on my arm as he said goodbye, reminding me to lock up and set the alarm after him before he stepped out into the hall. I'd done as he said, turning the dead bolt, slipping the floor bolt that Bobby had installed into place, and sliding the chain on as well before peeking through the peephole.

I'd expected to find the hallway empty, since Carlos had a habit of vanishing like smoke the second you took your eyes off him, but that wasn't the case. He was still there, leaning against the opposite wall with his head tipped low, his loose hair obscuring his face as he brought his hands up to rub the heels of his palms into his eye sockets. What I wouldn't give to be able to see the expression on his face just then, but the body language along with his confession in the car gave me enough to know he was still kicking himself for telling me about the job this afternoon. I hoped it wasn't the kind of thing that would cause him to drive a wedge between us.

He had started opening up to me little by little over the past few weeks, and I cherished every little reveal, knowing how hard he was working to be human with me where he had only shown the badass persona previously. And I thought the progress we made was having an equal effect on his relationship with his family as well. Mama had been delighted when we arrived early together for family dinner last month, and although I assured him he could leave whenever he needed to, that I could catch a ride back to Trenton with Bobby and Lester, Carlos had stayed the entire evening. All the way through dessert and even after Celia and Reynaldo had had to leave to take the kids home to bed.

Mama had packaged up an extra big slice of cake de ron for me that night, sending me a secret smile and a mouthed thank you as she hugged Carlos goodbye. My heart had swelled at her gratitude, keeping me aloft for several days to come. After everything the Manoso-Santoses had done for me over the last twelve months, it was a relief to be able to do something for them, even if it was something as small as being the reason Mama got to spend a little extra time with her eldest son.

"Steph, come on, I heard you moving around in there," Lester's voice penetrated my memories and I realised I'd been standing with my hand on the deadbolt, staring off into space. "Let me in. I've got the cure."

I blinked. "The cure?" The door was open in the next second, and sure enough, Lester was standing there with a large cup in one hand and a bag emblazoned with the familiar golden arches in the other. "How did you know I'd need the cure?" I asked, stepping aside to let him pass.

His eyes were twinkling as he watched me relock the door. "A little birdie told me." He grinned, showing every one of his even, pearly white teeth.

I took the coke from him, sipping it gratefully for a moment as I kept my eyes narrowed on his face. "Carlos?" I asked, releasing the straw. "Carlos sent you over with the cure?"

The derisive sound from his throat let me know what he thought of that notion. "No. Carlos doesn't know about the cure. He sent me over to give you a lift to work since he drove you home last night, and your car is still at Rangeman," he explained, shooing me toward the kitchen. "He didn't mention anything about drinking… or dancing."

The way his eyebrows waggled at me as we settled into seats on opposite sides of the kitchen table had heat blazing across my cheeks, but I didn't know what to say or how to say it, so I snatched up the paper bag he'd set between us and grabbed out a handful of salty, delicious fries, shoving them in my mouth and chewing slowly.

"Another little birdie called me just after Carlos hung up, though," Lester went on, leaning his chin on his fist as he continued to eye me gleefully. "You had a lot to say about the club last night. About how hot it was."

I groaned, attempting to swallow past the lump forming in my throat. How much had I told Lester when I called him last night? Did I mention the almost kiss? Did I mention the clear erection? How I'd almost cum on the dance floor?

He barked out a laugh at whatever my face was doing as my thoughts spun out of control. "Relax, Beautiful," he said, stealing a sip of my coke. "You literally just kept repeating how hot it was. How you had a lot of fun and you wanted to do it again but sober this time." And then his grin faded away, his eyes averting to the table. "And you kept asking if I was okay after seeing the little girl like that."

I almost choked on my fries, recalling the image in my mind's eye from the description Carlos had given of his discovery in the basement of the skips house. I gagged; fearful I was about to lose the breakfast I hadn't even finished eating, but managed to swallow it down.

"I'm so sorry," I managed to say, tears gathering in the corners of my eyes as I watched my usually happy-go-lucky friend deflate. "No one should have to see that. It shouldn't happen. It-" I shook my head, swiping roughly at the tears attempting to fall. There was no use in me being sad when I wasn't the one who witnessed the trauma. "So, are you okay?" I finally asked.

"Yeah," he sighed, pinching a fry and popping it in his mouth. "I had a long talk with Bobby last night, and I've got a session with my therapist booked for this afternoon. It didn't hit me as hard as Carlos, though, as you saw, and I think that's because of the little girl. She's about the same age as Julie."

"His daughter," I whispered in realisation.

"Yeah," Lester agreed. "Even looked a little like her. Same straight dark hair, same look of hope in her face when she made eye contact with him. He struggled to let the TPD and the paramedics take her."

"Fuck," I said, my throat constricted as I watched the emotions play across Lester's face. "I'm so sorry. I wish I'd known. I could have said something to help ease Carlos's mind."

Lester's eyes cut to mine in shock. "Beautiful," he uttered so softly I felt sure I was about to have my world rocked. "What you did for him, breaking him out of that headspace in the gym, and just being with him last night probably went a long way toward helping him through this. Honestly, I'm surprised he even told you about it. I know I wasn't planning to."

I shook my head, averting my gaze to the few straggly fries left in the carton. "He didn't mean to," I admitted. "He thought I fell asleep on the drive home."

"Ahh," he said, like that explained everything.

And then, like he'd flipped a switch, his smile was back, the disturbance of the previous topic vanishing from sight as he leaned back in his chair. "Alright, go get ready," he instructed, tipping the chair back on two legs and attempting to balance there. "You may have calmed the beast in the boss yesterday, but today is a new day, and if I'm late, I may find my ass being handed to me on the mats." And with that, he leaped to his feet, somehow not knocking the chair to the floor in the process, and dragged me out of my seat and back into my bedroom.

"Out of respect, I'm not gonna stick around to ensure you get out of those jammies," he said, eyeing the donut-print leggings under the oversized jersey I'd pulled on for bed last night. "But just know that if I don't hear water running in two minutes, I will be tossing you into the shower fully clothed."