Page 5

“You know I don’t discriminate. Have dick? Will sit on it.”

I snorted a laugh. Not at her words but at the look on the guy’s face when he heard what she said. I didn’t want to be part of this kicking to the curb, so I turned back to my task of making a margarita on the rocks. I could hear the beginning of Nikki’s “it’s not me, it’s you” speech from behind me.

“Listen, Chad…”

“It’s Kyle.”

“Of course it is. Now Chad, you’re a bit vanilla in bed. Which I honestly should have seen coming because you’re wearing a navy North Face vest...Anyway, the point being there won’t be a repeat fucking. But get home safe.”

Nikki seemed to think the sugary sweet voice would make her verbal castration more pleasant. She always used it, and usually, it ended in the same way I predicted this one would.

“You fucking whore!” he spewed.

Yup, he’s not taking this well. You would think he’d be in a better mood, having just gotten off.

Unfortunately for him, any patience I had to deal with a man’s attitude had been used up by Anthony. Before he could escalate the situation, I decided to intervene. Turning around, I pointed my Sig at Chad/Kyle.

“Listen, man, before you decide to insult my sister more, know it will earn you a bullet between the eyes. And ironically, you wouldn’t be the first man I shot today either,” I said, probably more casually than someone should when threatening to shoot a person.

All the color drained from his face when he realized a real-life gun was pointed at him. The blood spatter still coating my body helped back up my threat. Faster than I thought possible for the preppy dude, he ran out of our apartment, booking it down the stairwell.

Nikki skipped over to shut the door he hadn’t bothered closing.

“Breaking up with them is so much easier when you're home,” she commented, completely ignoring my eye roll. “I mean, like, don’t they know Tinder is supposed to be for hookups? I don’t get why they all get so upset when I tell them we had fun, but there won’t be a repeat.”

I needed the tequila in me, stat, for relationship conversations of any kind. Nikki never wanted to address why she wouldn’t let a man close to her emotionally. And I wasn’t exactly the poster child for healthy relationships. If I hooked up with someone, it needed to be someone Mario would never find out about. I learned the hard way that Mario didn’t like men touching me, even though we weren’t a couple.

I didn’t have the emotional strength to think about all the baggage that came with the situation between Mario and me, so I decided to focus on Nikki’s pouting.

“Maybe,” I said, taking a gulp of my margarita, “it’s because you went for that man’s pride by telling him he was boring in bed. But seriously…a dude with loafers is who you went for?”

“He was helping me invest in stocks,” she replied. I let her snatch my glass and take a sip. After witnessing the fuck buddy of the night, I could tell she needed the alcohol more than I did.

I shook my head at her reasoning. Of course, that’s why she chose him. “Well, that’s on you for thinking you would get something more than thirty seconds of missionary. Let me guess; he couldn’t find your clit?” I asked.

“The man wouldn’t have been able to find my clit if I shoved it in his face…which I did.” Nikki gave me a sly smile, revealing one of her cute dimples before we both broke out in a fit of laughter.

Cute was the perfect word to describe Nikki. We were polar opposites. Her cornflower-blue eyes and blond hair complemented her light skin splattered with freckles. Where I had tan skin and long dark hair that usually fell in soft waves down my back. Nikki called me her Latin beauty of a sister.

Where she was soft and sweet, I was all sass and tended to stab when mad. The only things we had in common were our love for each other and our souls that had been shattered and healed with the splinters still inside. We showed our brokenness in different ways, but we both chose to embrace our inner demons.

Better the devil you know and all that.

“Well, I hope you got all you wanted out of him on the stocks front because Chad is likely never coming back to help you.” I stood and made my way to my door. “And try to keep the sounds of your self-care down tonight.”

I blew a kiss over my shoulder before making my way to the shower.

Shower margaritas were Santa Muerte’s gift to earth, and I needed mine tonight.

Because Anthony managed not only to ruin my shirt, but leave blood and brain matter in my hair, making me go through my whole hair washing routine. And I would rather do a million other things than washing and drying my hair.

A light appeared from my phone plugged in on the nightstand, and a groan slipped from my lips. Lotería may close at one a.m. like other clubs, but I was on call twenty-four seven. My hand wrapped around the device, picking it up to check what pressing matter needed my attention now.

The hair on my neck stood on end when I saw the sender of the unread messages.

Mario: Muñeca. Why is it I’m being told by my father that you are staying in Arizona?

Mario: Answer me, Muñeca. You better have a good reason for not texting me back.