Liv
“I WANT TO apologize for our less than tasteful meeting the last time we spoke.” Jonas sat perfectly poised, his legs crossed and relaxed in his fancy suit, and his hair slicked back as he eyed me next to him. I was trying to relax in the soft but new leather seats of his Lincoln Town car. Marco, his driver and husky bodyguard, steered the car around the congested streets of Los Angeles, where our current gig was, past the darkened streets of ghettos and run down shacks lining the cracked roads of Balboa Park. I gulped as I watched the scenery outside the window past Jonas’ face. This was the first time I would be with him in private and not a restaurant or club.
What in the pit of hell we were doing here was beyond me, but I suspected he had safe houses all down the coast of California, and that this was partly a routine check up on his territory. It made me cringe. The endless spotting of opposing gang snitches who lingered on corners and eyed the shiny black car as it sped on by, as if it belonged there and wasn’t out of place whatsoever amongst the junked cars. Oh, but it did stick out surrounded by ill-repaired stucco houses and endless blocks of tightly fitted apartments, where kids ran out into the streets looking dirty and neglected, and where laundry hung constantly on the threads of clotheslines. They were used to watching this shiny black metal transport escort their definition of Death through the neighborhood.
That was the only way to survive—gain the respect of those beneath you through violence and a firm grip of the city with terror.
Terribly fun, right?
“Does it still hurt?” Jonas reached toward my cheek, and I fought to not pull away. I forced a tiny smile on my face as he slipped his finger down my cheek, studying it intently with his dark eyes.
“No. It’s almost all faded and gone.”
He frowned and leaned back, staring quietly out the window as the dusk folded into the night and the vampires began their descent into activity of the city life after hours.
“I assure you, I’m not in the habit of hitting women.” Apologizing? Wasn’t that out of character for him? I speculated what was running through his synapses when he said nothing more.
“Just men, then?” I gave a chuckle, feeling anxious as I shifted in the leather. It sighed and complained at my movements.
He turned back, and his shiny black eyes twinkled under the tinted sunroof, which let the streetlamp’s illumination flash by at intervals, showing me his features more clearly at those moments. He was terribly good looking, but I knew the tainted, dark soul living under such a perfect exterior. I was determined to not let it sway me whatsoever. This was a job, nothing more, and I needed every bit of my wits to stay intact. To stay alive…
“I don’t operate that way. Most that are faced with me are in their last moments on this earth. I try to avoid such scenarios. Sometimes it’s a gruesome job, but it must be done.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that. Whether or not I should question him about his career choice and the specifications of it was up in the air, but the little voice in the back of my head warned me to not ask.
“Dangerous line of work, huh?”
He smiled, his chin leaning on his hand and his eyes completely focused on me. His grin caused the fine lines around his eyes to deepen, chiseling out the life experience across his face. Stubble lined his jaw, and sparkly diamond and platinum rings glinted against his fingers in the streetlamps, like tiny stars stickered onto his skin.
“You could say that.”
“Where are we going?”
“To my residence.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, but regretted it immediately. He might think I was having reservations about this precarious arrangement. Okay, so I was, but luckily, he moved forward in his chair at the same time to speak to Marco in a hurried whisper so he hadn’t noticed.
“I wasn’t sure what to wear, since I didn’t have any idea on where we were headed.” I waved a hand over my skin tight black jeans and a loose sparkly silver and black blouse. “I hope it’s enough.” A dragon pendant choker strapped to my neck and matching earrings completed the outfit. I’d done my hair up in larger rollers, and the resulting curls highlighted the curves of my cheekbones. I’d gone all out and prayed that it was enough.
I was pretty sure that the girls Jonas Esperanza had been used to having around were gorgeous, and I had nothing on the lengths they took to look the part of a Cartel associate.
He sat back and took me in, letting his eyes slide down each part of me with a slow, thorough survey of my outfit and body. It made me blush, my face suddenly heated, and sweat began to dampen my blouse just as fast. This scrutiny had turned my mouth into a barren desert, and I fought the urge to cross my arms over my breasts and turn away from him- that or jump out the car at the next stoplight.
Not an option.
Instead, I gave him a wicked smile, as if I was drinking in his glimpses like a sweet anticipation of what could possibly come. If we were heading to his house, he very well could be expecting it.
“You’re perfect.” His words came out subtle, as if it was a shared secret for only my ears. It made my heart quicken and did nothing to disperse the redness I was surely bearing across my face. Luckily, it was dark and quite unnoticeable in the darkness of the car.
“Thank you.”
The car pulled around one more corner where it approached a gated wall. Beyond the wall, I could see nothing. It wasn’t see through, and the only thing I could make out was a series of palm trees swaying in the soft breeze above the cusp of the walls. Marco pulled down his window and waved to the guards at the gate. They weren’t armed, but I was pretty sure they had some guns stashed in the tiny post.
They waved us on, and the gate began its smooth slide open. Once the car cleared the heavy wrought iron, it scooted in and the gate’s large doors immediately closed swiftly behind it. After that, it wound around a long driveway made of smooth cobblestone, through more bushes and greenery, which hid the wide, one story hacienda beyond. It wasn’t extravagant, as I was expecting, but it wasn’t small either. It looked humble, lived in, and warm. I didn’t know why I liked it immediately, but it was so different from the massive mansion of the Hollywood hills I’d driven past. It was an oasis in the middle of a middle class neighborhood, but appeared to be miles from civilization.
It didn’t quite fit Jonas, somehow. I didn’t know how or why it felt that way. I hoped I was going to be wrong, but I liked the house and the grounds.
The car came to a stop, and Marco bounced his way out of the driver’s seat. His bulk made him huff as he pushed himself out, and straightened his suit and tie, before opening the car door and letting us out. Standing next to Marco, I felt incredibly short and fragile, as if he could crush me with his massive sausage fingers and broad shoulders. Even Jonas looked scrawny next to his bodyguard. I could definitely see why he’d picked him.
“Welcome to my humble abode.” Jonas waved his arm out proudly, grinning so wide, I could see his shiny white teeth behind his smooth pink lips.
“It’s really gorgeous.” I didn’t even have to make that a lie; it was completely true.
“It’s a home.” He reached over, cupping my back as he urged me forward. I let him, breathing in to relax as we passed the threshold of his house.
It was classic California Spanish style with curved archways down the halls and a wide open living area connecting to a kitchen with a massive stove, dual fridges, and a stand up freezer. The large island was tiled in blue and white styled squares and lined with red earthen styled bricks on the edges. Tall stools surrounded the counter, but there was also a formal dining room to one side, in another room where the large oak table stood with ten chairs lined neatly on the table’s sides. A rich lace runner lay across the top and was held down by a wrought iron candelabra with cream colored candles and matching single holders on either side of it.
The living room held two sofas, both dark green in color with a variety of colored pillows and a couple of fleece blankets. Ottoma
ns and footstools littered the fronts of the couches, and a large wood coffee table, which appeared to be a slice of an actual tree, with a glossy finish sat in the middle of the sitting area with a variety of novels and architecture books strewed across it.
The whole place smelled amazing, like walking into a Ma & Pa restaurant where homemade tortillas were being kneaded and flattened to slap onto the griddles. My stomach lurched, and I hoped Jonas hadn’t heard its rumbling as I stood, mouth opened and gawking at his home.
It was so normal and lived in, definitely not as immaculate as I would’ve pinned Jonas to have chosen. In fact, I wouldn’t have been surprised to walk into a modern monochromatic theme with nothing but a sea of white and black with perfectly symmetrical furniture and not a spill of color throughout it. This was completely the opposite of that.
“I hope you find it adequate.”
I nodded, still speechless.
“Great. Caridad has our meal ready. She’s my housekeeper and cook, but I mainly just love her cooking. It reminds me of my mother’s.” He waved at the tiny, chubby lady pouring soup into two bowls. She smiled and bowed her head toward him as she continued to put strips of tortillas into the soup and garnished it with cilantro.
“Would you like it served now?”
“Yes, Caridad. This time we’ll eat outside. It’s a beautiful evening.”
“Si, Senor.” She turned back to another pot where she stirred the contents and proceed to pull out two cloth napkins and utensils.
“Let’s go outside, Liv.” Jonas slipped his fingers through mine and gave me a gentle tug. It was enough to yank me out of my fascination with the entire set up he had going on here.
Jonas took me through a large courtyard, which was the entire middle of the house. Along each side ran a covered walkway leading into doors which led to either rooms or the inside hall of the house. A large fountain sat along one wall where a table with four chairs sat surrounded by a lush garden of vines and flowers and a small vegetable garden off to the right. The splashing water made it serene, and I peered up to see the expanse of night sky in the open courtyard. The smell of fresh earth and cut grass lingered in my nostrils, and my heels sank into the dirt until I hopped back onto the flagstone path Jonas had led me to.
It was out of a fairy tale, and I had no words to offer on how beautiful I thought it was.
“Here we go.” Jonas pulled out one of the cushioned metal chairs of the patio set and let me sit down before he pulled out one for himself and sank into it.
“This is really nice,” I managed to croak out, but I was still staring up at the sky, seeing an occasional star or two. We were still inside the city, where the lights obscured the stars with their overbearing glow. I missed the night sky, where all the stars were visible and lit up the darkness like twinkling Christmas lights. Even in darkness, they shone brightly and never made me feel afraid. Of course, those were days Audrey and I would pull off the road to sleep in our banged up station wagon. We’d put the pillows on the pull down door and laid our sleeping bags underneath us so the hard metal of the car bed wouldn’t dig into our bones too much.
We’d had competitions on how many constellations we could name. When we first started this ritual, we could name the most popular ones, but only those. After studying a library book on astronomy, Audrey had been able to name several more than I could, but we’d compared the look of the stars to those in the pictures of the book under a flashlight and spent the night eating s’mores from a tiny fire we’d stoked as we chatted the night away.
I missed those carefree days.
“I hope you like Tortilla soup.”
I nodded, my stomach flipping again at the mention of food. I’d barely eaten lunch earlier because my nerves were frayed to oblivion, knowing tonight was our first date.
“Good. Also, we’ll be having potato tacos with cabbage and Cotija cheese with a tomato lemon sauce. Do you like those?” I nodded, knowing what he was talking about. I’d had those tacos on a trip to Mexico once, and had eaten enough to stuff a cow. My mouth watered at the thought.
“Excellent.”
At that moment, Caridad waltzed in and placed a piping hot bowl down with spoon and limes to one side. I watched her as she placed another before Jonas. Dark red napkins to keep spills from our clothes came with the set up, and I felt like we were at a restaurant under the stars and not at his home. The food smelled absolutely divine.
It tasted even better.
Don’t get used to it, I told myself. The warning was shoved to the back of my mind, however, as the night wore on and Jonas peeled layer after layer off his hardened exterior.
This wasn’t going the way I wanted it to, or was it?
Chapter Fourteen