Fanfiction: I See Red - 11
Title: I See Red
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Pepa/Silvia
Spoilers: Post season finale
A/N - It's been a week and a half since my last posting. That time included sickness, work, sickness, work, and now my woman is sick. That's what you get for kissing despite having a cold. So with all the sickness, work, and kissing there wasn't much time to write, until now! Now I feel LOADS better, thanks for all the well-wishes. I hope everyone can remember what happened previously. Quick reminder: Pepa/Silvia/sweetness in the garage/Pepa's back on the case. Maybe that helped.
Thunk, thunk, thunk
That's the sound of my head pounding relentlessly against the white station wall. Not only did I just do Paco a big favor by eating crow in front of the whole precinct and showering our traitorous friend Antonio Blanco with apologies for my impulsive, grief-driven attack before praising him for his courage and unerring loyalty, but now he's just dropped this little H-bomb on me:
"Pepa...um..." His feet shuffle a bit as he searches for the right words. "Seeing as the hit list is, you know, still active...we've, uh, made arrangements for everyone who's still a target. Rita, Curtis, you --"
"What kind of arrangements?" I ask warily.
"Well, it was such short notice, and we had to keep the location top secret, even from the precinct. You know, no safe houses --"
"What kind of arrangements, Paco?" I repeat, waiting to hear the punchline.
"A cousin of Silvia and Lola's owns a condo in Madrid. They are away on vacation and said we could stay there. Just for a while, until things die down."
I hear Silvia react next to me, "Oh, I know that place! Carlos and Agustina, how sweet of them!" That's when my head starts pounding - not only at the temples, but literally against the wall in protest.
My sudden self-inflicted wounding takes Paco by surprise. "Pepa? Are you alright?"
My head stops mid-hammer and I stare daggers at my brother. "No I'm not alright, Paco! No fucking way do I want to stay in some non-safe house, condo, whatever-the-fuck-it-is with all my coworkers. Not tonight, not ever. I told you, I need to be alone right now."
"Pepa, your front door is practically hanging from it's hinges. The mob knows where we live, knows where we work. We can't just go home at the end of our day and feel safe."
"Believe me, if you give me my guns back I'll feel plenty safe."
His eyes harden. "Pepa, this is not a request, this is an order!"
My eyes bore right back into his, willing him to back down, but I can quickly tell this is one battle I'm not going to win. When it comes to the safety of his family Paco's will is as strong as steel. I both love him and hate him for it.
"Ahhhh!" I slap the wall impotently and glare at him before spitting out: "Fine! But I want my gun back."
"Deal. I'll call Aitor right now and have him get it to you. Here are the keys to the condo." He reaches into his pocket and fumbles with several sets of keys, trying to untangle them. "Sorry, I just made copies this afternoon to make sure we all had a set." The dangling metal clangs together incessantly as he pulls and tugs like he's working out a brain teaser. My eyes roll up to the ceiling and I clench my fists. How many fucking people are staying in this joint?!
"Here." He finally hands me the keys and I pocket them. "I want us all there at 8 P.M. sharp."
"Are you telling me there's a fucking curfew?!!"
"Just for now. We all need to regroup and share the information we've gathered today."
My jaw is twitching.
"Please, Pepa. It's just to make sure everyone is safe. Do this for me?" He looks up at me with those fucking puppy dog eyes.
"I'll be there," I manage to get out through clenched teeth. "Just make sure there is cold beer stocked in the fridge - lots of it."
He nods and grins. "Do you need the address?"
My eyes dart over to Silvia who is unsuccessfully hiding a grin. I'm guessing she's finding my forced imprisonment rather amusing. I just shake my head at my brother, "I think I know where it is," and stomp out the door.
__________________
"Full house, Aces high," Curtis reveals as he rakes in his winnings. "I won the first hand, that's a first for me."
It's nearly one in the morning and we're all still up, milling around the condo, trying to exhaust ourselves into slumber. After meeting up at eight (I was fifteen minutes late and Paco was calling my phone like a fucking lunatic!), we all debriefed in the living room and took stock about what we knew. Apparently, my little friend Pinocchio had been quite helpful today, that is, after I scared the shit out of him. He ended up giving us as much information as he could regarding the attack on the wedding day: The location of El Gordo, when the security guards were killed, the time of the Italian officers' capture and placement in the trunk, the vantage point of each gunman - all of it.
Don Lorenzo and Paco had a map made up of the area, and we just spent the last few hours going through each detail of the ambush together. They reasoned, with all of us there as witnesses, that any one of us may hold some extra piece to the puzzle. The trouble was that no one cared to even look at the puzzle let alone figure it out. Needless to say, the meeting was exceedingly painful for all parties, present company included. At one point Rita started sobbing, and Mariano was so angry at Paco for making us sit through this that he pushed him against the wall and stormed out. I can't say I blamed him.
I felt like bolting myself, and probably would have if not for my analytical redhead. To her, the whole event was like an autopsy she needed to dissect. She wanted to know the particulars of everything, down to the time she walked down the aisle. She had me ask question after question regarding what time the communications were cut off, when El Gordo's men were in place, when did each guest arrive, etc. I tried to get her to back off, at times silently refusing to speak like an insolent child, but it was no use. She'd either beg me, or reason with me about her stupid fucking instincts, and as usual, in the end she got her way. Death had done nothing to temper her thirst for knowledge. She was the same old Silvia - intent at finding the answers while being completely clueless to the feelings of those around her - but this time I was the one doing her dirty work! Honestly, I felt like a heartless bitch being so interested in the minutiae of that day. It was my wedding day after all. My particular nightmare that everyone else had to endure. And here I was asking about what time the cake was delivered? What the fuck??!
As Silvia sat inside of me I tried to explain to her that maybe now wasn't the best time in the world to bombard people with such insensitive questions, but she just argued that the soul purpose of this meeting was questions, and that finding out those answers was the only way we were going to move forward; figure out the next steps. How terribly logical of her. From her point of view, of course, that all made perfect sense, but from where I stood the picture was painted much darker. She couldn't understand that she was focused on fixing a problem that the rest of us all saw as permanent.
"Pepa, are you in or out?" Aitor's voice jolts me back to the poker game. I look at my cards trying to register what I'm holding. A two, a seven, and three queens. The queens remind me of Silvia; their knowing stares compelling me to trust them despite their illusory existence, like they've got a surprise in store for me. Now that I'm willing to bet on. I shove my chips forward and hope for the best.
As the bets continue around the table I glance over at my redhead. She is standing next to her father and my brother, examining the map and listening to them discuss the circumstances of our ill-fated wedding day. She's looking at them as they speak, hand on her chin, nodding as they discuss the event - as though they can see her! And what a sight they'd see: Done up in lace, makeup pristine, hair pulled back into an elegant coiffure. Without warning, Don Lorenzo slides past Paco to grab a folder, startling Silvia by sailing straight her. She gasps, and her shocked expression gives away exactly what I suspected: She wasn't just acting like she was part of the meeting, she actually believed she was there! She stomps her feet silently and mutters a swear before trying to swat at a pile of papers, not knowing I am watching. Her inability to physically be part of this investigation is really starting to piss her off, and I have to suppress my laughter as I watch her frustrated gyrations. To think of my opinionated Silvia not being able to express her opinions, and now she has to rely on me of all people to voice every fucking thing that pops into her head. Fuck, I'm a doer, not a talker! Fate sure has a wicked sense of humor.
As if she can sense my amusement, Silvia's eyes jerk toward me. I bite my lips closed and concentrate on my cards with renewed interest.
"Alright, I call." It's just Curtis and I left. He puts forth two pairs - kings and jacks. I lay down my three queens and accept my winnings, not missing the opportunity to rib him about my girls beating his boys. He grins and we all chuckle a bit. Evidently, the poker game Aitor suggested was doing the trick: Actually taking our minds off of things, if only for the moment.
Just as I was starting to relax for the first time in days, I see my redhead sauntering slowly around the table. The moment our gazes meet I feel imprisoned in her eyes. She's got that look. That "I'm going to tease you" look, and I'm suddenly far from relaxed. As the newly shuffled cards are dealt out I watch her look over everyone's hand surreptitiously. She keeps pulling expressions along the lines of "uh, oh, these cards look good," or "geez, Pepa, you've got your work cut out for you" clearly trying to distract me. I try to look down at my cards but my eyes continue to rise up to her like magnets, unable to escape her pull.
She eventually makes her way to me and leans over my shoulder, her mouth inches from my ear. She regards my cards, which happen to include three aces. Not too shabby, but she of course tsks, "Pepa, my love, you're going to have to do better than that." I covertly grimace at her in disbelief. "I'm serious. Rita's going to beat you, no contest." She leans in closer and purrs into my ear, "But you might win if you go for the flush." I swallow in response to the chill that runs up my spine. Looking down, I see all hearts except for two of the three aces I hold in my hand. My eyes capture hers suspiciously. Do I trust her, or do I go with my gut? She's always going with her instincts, why not me? Besides, something about this just doesn't feel right.
When the option to trade out cards comes my way I don't follow her instructions, which makes her eyebrows raise in amusement. She grins at me and shakes her head before leaning back to whisper, "So, you don't trust me? After all we've been through, Miranda?" Her tongue rolls over my name so seductively I can barely keep my eyes from closing in reaction. My body leans closer to her but she stands up and continues her wandering around the table, shaking her head in disappointment each time her eyes catch sight of the cards I'm up against.
Finally, someone calls, and we all tip our hands. Rita silently gathers her chips, a slight smile raising the corners of her lips. Laying in front of her is a straight. Straight beats my three of a kind, but if I'd had a flush... Shit.
"That will teach you next time to trust me, Miranda." She's back against my ear making my breath hitch as her words vibrate through me.
I glare at her, but only half heartedly. She's so adorable when she's screwing with me. She winks back and continues her leisurely stroll. Our eyes lock together in a heated exchange, her gaze so dark and smoldering it's making my blood run hot. What is running through that mind of hers? My head follows her as she travels around the room until I hear Rita inquire pointedly, "Pepa, you sure seemed focused during the meeting. It's almost as if you know something we don't." Suddenly the room goes dead quiet and the heat that was pulsing through my veins stops cold. Damn! I knew people would notice I was acting like a soulless weirdo. My non-Pepa questioning was getting me unwanted attention. Even Paco and Don Lorenzo's conversation has hushed as they wait to hear my response. Silvia is still looking my way, though worry now wrinkles her brow.
I feel as though there's a noose around my neck, and I swear if I had a collar on I would be pulling at it like one of our guilty suspects hot under the lamps. I'm seriously racking my brain to think of something to say, but the silence grows longer. Rita's eyes are watching me with honest curiosity, but also with an aloofness I've never seen coming from her, like she doesn't fully trust me. After the events of the day, knowing that even our coworkers aren't without suspicion, I understand her skepticism, but it still hurts to see it reflected on me.
Before I know it, without even thinking, honesty is pouring from my mouth. And as the words tumble forth I realize they aren't in response to Rita's fears as much as an answer to my own doubts. "I guess you could say I haven't any choice in the matter. I have to stay focused, on the facts, the details, or my mind starts to...turn, to steer in all sorts of dangerous directions. There's no special bit of information I hold, Rita, other than knowing my grief can cloud my judgment."
"Pepa, I didn't mean --"
"You were witness to it today, Rita. My insanity rubbed off on you, making you do something that went against your nature. Well, the problem is that is my nature." I pause, willing my eyes not to water as I think of my redhead. "But somehow I didn't cross that line today. And I owe it to my redhead. I guess you could say Silvia rubbed off on me. That I've got a little piece of her inside of me, holding my hand, leading me in the right direction when all I want to do is..." My breath hitches. I lay my cards down and rise from my seat. "So if I seem focused, cold even, believe me, it's in everyone's best interest."
I head into the kitchen, wanting to feel the soothing chill of a beer pouring down my throat, hoping that may stall the thoughts running through my head. That, and a moment alone with my girl - that's what I need.
As I exit the room, my feet carrying me quickly away, I hear Curtis whisper to Rita, "Nice going. What were you thinking?"
"I just thought she was acting strange, I--"
"Can you blame her?"
"No...no I can't. I'm sorry, it's been a confusing day..."
I understand her confusion. She's isn't the only one suffering from it.
Their low voices fade away as I reach the fridge and pull out a cold bottle. The bitter taste calms my mind just before my body buzzes again with a different kind of energy. Silvia is slowly melting into me. I've discovered this is her new way of hugging me, melding herself with me unexpectedly so that I can feel her the only way she knows how. Her smell swirls in my senses, drowning out any negative thoughts that are lingering in my brain. My body tingles, prompting me to set the bottle down and lace my fingers together as if I'm holding her hand.
Rita can sure be a mood killer, huh? Silvia jokes.
Yeah, and just when I thought I could forget everything for a moment and concentrate on a silly card game, not to mention that hot redhead trying to distract me from winning.
Distract you! I was helping you!
You were tricking me, and you know it.
How can you possibly rationalize that I was tricking you when I was telling you the truth?
Because you knew you were fucking with me! Don't deny it, red. The way you were whispering in my ear, giving me those looks, you knew I wouldn't believe you.
Hey, I told you to trust me didn't I?
Yeah, I guess I learned my lesson, huh? And speaking of lessons, am I going to learn another one from you tonight, princess?
What makes you think that?
You don't just undress me with your eyes for nothing. There's some plan brewing in that head of yours, I can tell.
Well then I better ditch you before you hear what it is.
Quick as a flash, she bolts out of me giggling, driving me crazy with intrigue. "Silvia," I mutter dangerously, only for her ears.
Her beautiful red lips turn up with a smirk. "Just wait until the lights go out, Miranda. You'll see..."
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Pepa/Silvia
Spoilers: Post season finale
A/N - It's been a week and a half since my last posting. That time included sickness, work, sickness, work, and now my woman is sick. That's what you get for kissing despite having a cold. So with all the sickness, work, and kissing there wasn't much time to write, until now! Now I feel LOADS better, thanks for all the well-wishes. I hope everyone can remember what happened previously. Quick reminder: Pepa/Silvia/sweetness in the garage/Pepa's back on the case. Maybe that helped.
Thunk, thunk, thunk
That's the sound of my head pounding relentlessly against the white station wall. Not only did I just do Paco a big favor by eating crow in front of the whole precinct and showering our traitorous friend Antonio Blanco with apologies for my impulsive, grief-driven attack before praising him for his courage and unerring loyalty, but now he's just dropped this little H-bomb on me:
"Pepa...um..." His feet shuffle a bit as he searches for the right words. "Seeing as the hit list is, you know, still active...we've, uh, made arrangements for everyone who's still a target. Rita, Curtis, you --"
"What kind of arrangements?" I ask warily.
"Well, it was such short notice, and we had to keep the location top secret, even from the precinct. You know, no safe houses --"
"What kind of arrangements, Paco?" I repeat, waiting to hear the punchline.
"A cousin of Silvia and Lola's owns a condo in Madrid. They are away on vacation and said we could stay there. Just for a while, until things die down."
I hear Silvia react next to me, "Oh, I know that place! Carlos and Agustina, how sweet of them!" That's when my head starts pounding - not only at the temples, but literally against the wall in protest.
My sudden self-inflicted wounding takes Paco by surprise. "Pepa? Are you alright?"
My head stops mid-hammer and I stare daggers at my brother. "No I'm not alright, Paco! No fucking way do I want to stay in some non-safe house, condo, whatever-the-fuck-it-is with all my coworkers. Not tonight, not ever. I told you, I need to be alone right now."
"Pepa, your front door is practically hanging from it's hinges. The mob knows where we live, knows where we work. We can't just go home at the end of our day and feel safe."
"Believe me, if you give me my guns back I'll feel plenty safe."
His eyes harden. "Pepa, this is not a request, this is an order!"
My eyes bore right back into his, willing him to back down, but I can quickly tell this is one battle I'm not going to win. When it comes to the safety of his family Paco's will is as strong as steel. I both love him and hate him for it.
"Ahhhh!" I slap the wall impotently and glare at him before spitting out: "Fine! But I want my gun back."
"Deal. I'll call Aitor right now and have him get it to you. Here are the keys to the condo." He reaches into his pocket and fumbles with several sets of keys, trying to untangle them. "Sorry, I just made copies this afternoon to make sure we all had a set." The dangling metal clangs together incessantly as he pulls and tugs like he's working out a brain teaser. My eyes roll up to the ceiling and I clench my fists. How many fucking people are staying in this joint?!
"Here." He finally hands me the keys and I pocket them. "I want us all there at 8 P.M. sharp."
"Are you telling me there's a fucking curfew?!!"
"Just for now. We all need to regroup and share the information we've gathered today."
My jaw is twitching.
"Please, Pepa. It's just to make sure everyone is safe. Do this for me?" He looks up at me with those fucking puppy dog eyes.
"I'll be there," I manage to get out through clenched teeth. "Just make sure there is cold beer stocked in the fridge - lots of it."
He nods and grins. "Do you need the address?"
My eyes dart over to Silvia who is unsuccessfully hiding a grin. I'm guessing she's finding my forced imprisonment rather amusing. I just shake my head at my brother, "I think I know where it is," and stomp out the door.
__________________
"Full house, Aces high," Curtis reveals as he rakes in his winnings. "I won the first hand, that's a first for me."
It's nearly one in the morning and we're all still up, milling around the condo, trying to exhaust ourselves into slumber. After meeting up at eight (I was fifteen minutes late and Paco was calling my phone like a fucking lunatic!), we all debriefed in the living room and took stock about what we knew. Apparently, my little friend Pinocchio had been quite helpful today, that is, after I scared the shit out of him. He ended up giving us as much information as he could regarding the attack on the wedding day: The location of El Gordo, when the security guards were killed, the time of the Italian officers' capture and placement in the trunk, the vantage point of each gunman - all of it.
Don Lorenzo and Paco had a map made up of the area, and we just spent the last few hours going through each detail of the ambush together. They reasoned, with all of us there as witnesses, that any one of us may hold some extra piece to the puzzle. The trouble was that no one cared to even look at the puzzle let alone figure it out. Needless to say, the meeting was exceedingly painful for all parties, present company included. At one point Rita started sobbing, and Mariano was so angry at Paco for making us sit through this that he pushed him against the wall and stormed out. I can't say I blamed him.
I felt like bolting myself, and probably would have if not for my analytical redhead. To her, the whole event was like an autopsy she needed to dissect. She wanted to know the particulars of everything, down to the time she walked down the aisle. She had me ask question after question regarding what time the communications were cut off, when El Gordo's men were in place, when did each guest arrive, etc. I tried to get her to back off, at times silently refusing to speak like an insolent child, but it was no use. She'd either beg me, or reason with me about her stupid fucking instincts, and as usual, in the end she got her way. Death had done nothing to temper her thirst for knowledge. She was the same old Silvia - intent at finding the answers while being completely clueless to the feelings of those around her - but this time I was the one doing her dirty work! Honestly, I felt like a heartless bitch being so interested in the minutiae of that day. It was my wedding day after all. My particular nightmare that everyone else had to endure. And here I was asking about what time the cake was delivered? What the fuck??!
As Silvia sat inside of me I tried to explain to her that maybe now wasn't the best time in the world to bombard people with such insensitive questions, but she just argued that the soul purpose of this meeting was questions, and that finding out those answers was the only way we were going to move forward; figure out the next steps. How terribly logical of her. From her point of view, of course, that all made perfect sense, but from where I stood the picture was painted much darker. She couldn't understand that she was focused on fixing a problem that the rest of us all saw as permanent.
"Pepa, are you in or out?" Aitor's voice jolts me back to the poker game. I look at my cards trying to register what I'm holding. A two, a seven, and three queens. The queens remind me of Silvia; their knowing stares compelling me to trust them despite their illusory existence, like they've got a surprise in store for me. Now that I'm willing to bet on. I shove my chips forward and hope for the best.
As the bets continue around the table I glance over at my redhead. She is standing next to her father and my brother, examining the map and listening to them discuss the circumstances of our ill-fated wedding day. She's looking at them as they speak, hand on her chin, nodding as they discuss the event - as though they can see her! And what a sight they'd see: Done up in lace, makeup pristine, hair pulled back into an elegant coiffure. Without warning, Don Lorenzo slides past Paco to grab a folder, startling Silvia by sailing straight her. She gasps, and her shocked expression gives away exactly what I suspected: She wasn't just acting like she was part of the meeting, she actually believed she was there! She stomps her feet silently and mutters a swear before trying to swat at a pile of papers, not knowing I am watching. Her inability to physically be part of this investigation is really starting to piss her off, and I have to suppress my laughter as I watch her frustrated gyrations. To think of my opinionated Silvia not being able to express her opinions, and now she has to rely on me of all people to voice every fucking thing that pops into her head. Fuck, I'm a doer, not a talker! Fate sure has a wicked sense of humor.
As if she can sense my amusement, Silvia's eyes jerk toward me. I bite my lips closed and concentrate on my cards with renewed interest.
"Alright, I call." It's just Curtis and I left. He puts forth two pairs - kings and jacks. I lay down my three queens and accept my winnings, not missing the opportunity to rib him about my girls beating his boys. He grins and we all chuckle a bit. Evidently, the poker game Aitor suggested was doing the trick: Actually taking our minds off of things, if only for the moment.
Just as I was starting to relax for the first time in days, I see my redhead sauntering slowly around the table. The moment our gazes meet I feel imprisoned in her eyes. She's got that look. That "I'm going to tease you" look, and I'm suddenly far from relaxed. As the newly shuffled cards are dealt out I watch her look over everyone's hand surreptitiously. She keeps pulling expressions along the lines of "uh, oh, these cards look good," or "geez, Pepa, you've got your work cut out for you" clearly trying to distract me. I try to look down at my cards but my eyes continue to rise up to her like magnets, unable to escape her pull.
She eventually makes her way to me and leans over my shoulder, her mouth inches from my ear. She regards my cards, which happen to include three aces. Not too shabby, but she of course tsks, "Pepa, my love, you're going to have to do better than that." I covertly grimace at her in disbelief. "I'm serious. Rita's going to beat you, no contest." She leans in closer and purrs into my ear, "But you might win if you go for the flush." I swallow in response to the chill that runs up my spine. Looking down, I see all hearts except for two of the three aces I hold in my hand. My eyes capture hers suspiciously. Do I trust her, or do I go with my gut? She's always going with her instincts, why not me? Besides, something about this just doesn't feel right.
When the option to trade out cards comes my way I don't follow her instructions, which makes her eyebrows raise in amusement. She grins at me and shakes her head before leaning back to whisper, "So, you don't trust me? After all we've been through, Miranda?" Her tongue rolls over my name so seductively I can barely keep my eyes from closing in reaction. My body leans closer to her but she stands up and continues her wandering around the table, shaking her head in disappointment each time her eyes catch sight of the cards I'm up against.
Finally, someone calls, and we all tip our hands. Rita silently gathers her chips, a slight smile raising the corners of her lips. Laying in front of her is a straight. Straight beats my three of a kind, but if I'd had a flush... Shit.
"That will teach you next time to trust me, Miranda." She's back against my ear making my breath hitch as her words vibrate through me.
I glare at her, but only half heartedly. She's so adorable when she's screwing with me. She winks back and continues her leisurely stroll. Our eyes lock together in a heated exchange, her gaze so dark and smoldering it's making my blood run hot. What is running through that mind of hers? My head follows her as she travels around the room until I hear Rita inquire pointedly, "Pepa, you sure seemed focused during the meeting. It's almost as if you know something we don't." Suddenly the room goes dead quiet and the heat that was pulsing through my veins stops cold. Damn! I knew people would notice I was acting like a soulless weirdo. My non-Pepa questioning was getting me unwanted attention. Even Paco and Don Lorenzo's conversation has hushed as they wait to hear my response. Silvia is still looking my way, though worry now wrinkles her brow.
I feel as though there's a noose around my neck, and I swear if I had a collar on I would be pulling at it like one of our guilty suspects hot under the lamps. I'm seriously racking my brain to think of something to say, but the silence grows longer. Rita's eyes are watching me with honest curiosity, but also with an aloofness I've never seen coming from her, like she doesn't fully trust me. After the events of the day, knowing that even our coworkers aren't without suspicion, I understand her skepticism, but it still hurts to see it reflected on me.
Before I know it, without even thinking, honesty is pouring from my mouth. And as the words tumble forth I realize they aren't in response to Rita's fears as much as an answer to my own doubts. "I guess you could say I haven't any choice in the matter. I have to stay focused, on the facts, the details, or my mind starts to...turn, to steer in all sorts of dangerous directions. There's no special bit of information I hold, Rita, other than knowing my grief can cloud my judgment."
"Pepa, I didn't mean --"
"You were witness to it today, Rita. My insanity rubbed off on you, making you do something that went against your nature. Well, the problem is that is my nature." I pause, willing my eyes not to water as I think of my redhead. "But somehow I didn't cross that line today. And I owe it to my redhead. I guess you could say Silvia rubbed off on me. That I've got a little piece of her inside of me, holding my hand, leading me in the right direction when all I want to do is..." My breath hitches. I lay my cards down and rise from my seat. "So if I seem focused, cold even, believe me, it's in everyone's best interest."
I head into the kitchen, wanting to feel the soothing chill of a beer pouring down my throat, hoping that may stall the thoughts running through my head. That, and a moment alone with my girl - that's what I need.
As I exit the room, my feet carrying me quickly away, I hear Curtis whisper to Rita, "Nice going. What were you thinking?"
"I just thought she was acting strange, I--"
"Can you blame her?"
"No...no I can't. I'm sorry, it's been a confusing day..."
I understand her confusion. She's isn't the only one suffering from it.
Their low voices fade away as I reach the fridge and pull out a cold bottle. The bitter taste calms my mind just before my body buzzes again with a different kind of energy. Silvia is slowly melting into me. I've discovered this is her new way of hugging me, melding herself with me unexpectedly so that I can feel her the only way she knows how. Her smell swirls in my senses, drowning out any negative thoughts that are lingering in my brain. My body tingles, prompting me to set the bottle down and lace my fingers together as if I'm holding her hand.
Rita can sure be a mood killer, huh? Silvia jokes.
Yeah, and just when I thought I could forget everything for a moment and concentrate on a silly card game, not to mention that hot redhead trying to distract me from winning.
Distract you! I was helping you!
You were tricking me, and you know it.
How can you possibly rationalize that I was tricking you when I was telling you the truth?
Because you knew you were fucking with me! Don't deny it, red. The way you were whispering in my ear, giving me those looks, you knew I wouldn't believe you.
Hey, I told you to trust me didn't I?
Yeah, I guess I learned my lesson, huh? And speaking of lessons, am I going to learn another one from you tonight, princess?
What makes you think that?
You don't just undress me with your eyes for nothing. There's some plan brewing in that head of yours, I can tell.
Well then I better ditch you before you hear what it is.
Quick as a flash, she bolts out of me giggling, driving me crazy with intrigue. "Silvia," I mutter dangerously, only for her ears.
Her beautiful red lips turn up with a smirk. "Just wait until the lights go out, Miranda. You'll see..."