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After their talk in Target a few weeks ago, Siena had wanted to stomp straight to every one of those little shits’ houses and tell their parents exactly what kind of rapists-to-be they were raising. But Geneva had begged her to let it go, insisting it would only make everything harder on her if Siena made a big deal of it.
It went against everything in her, and it still ate at her every single day that those bastards were getting off scot free. Yeah, okay, they hadn’tforcedthemselves on Geneva, but it was shitty to even ask to touch her like that at all, and then they’d pushed, and then, when she’d been brave and strong enough to refuse to do something she didn’t want, they’d teased and humiliated her, and finally ignored her. They needed to know that kind of behavior was bullshit before they got older and pushed harder.
Sitting in the counselor’s office, confronted with all this worrisome information about her sweet baby sister whose life had already had such loss and whose future might hold more, Siena could not be silent any longer. Dr. Granger wanted to know what had happened to make Geneva withdraw. Siena knew the answer.
So, sending an apology to her sister through the ether, Siena told the counselor everything she knew.
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~oOo~
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Siena decided to talkabout the potential learning disability stuff over dinner and sweeten the deal with Geneva’s favorite dessert, so on the way home from the meeting, she stopped at the grocery and picked up a quart of Häagen-Dazs strawberry ice cream and a Sara Lee lemon meringue pie. Then, in the evening, while Geneva was doing her homework, Siena ordered pizza.
Geneva was still in her room and Siena was in the living room watchingTed Lassowhen the doorbell rang. She paused the show and called out “Pizza’s here!” as she stood and went to the door. Expecting a delivery guy, she opened the door without a thought.
Standing on her little porch was not somebody holding a large margherita pizza and an order of hot wings but Jorge Gutierrez. Luis’s father. One of Geneva’s shitty little ex-friends. And he looked pissed. Jorge was not a small man; nor was he a particularly nice man. He worked security at the Golden Nugget casino, and he had the demeanor to match.
Their kids had been friends, so Siena and Jorge had been cordial, but they were not friends. There was no reason Jorge would stop by for a friendly visit.
Siena put the pieces together and came up with trouble.
Wishing mightily that she had her gun, or at least that she hadn’t opened the door so readily, she defaulted to the only thing she could think to do: calm, friendly innocence.
“Hi, Jorge.”
“You bitch,” he returned. “Do you know what you did?”
Okay, so calm, friendly innocence wasn’t going to work. She changed gears to try to have the real conversation like grownups. But she’d just called Geneva for dinner, and more than anything, she didn’t want her to see this argument. For so many reasons. So Siena did something she knew was stupid but felt unavoidable.
She stepped out of the house and closed the door.
Keeping fear out of her voice, making herself sound strong and ready for whatever he thought he’d throw at her, she said, “I know whatLuisdid. Let’s talk about that.”
“Luis told me all about it. He didn’t do shit. Your little bitch is lying if she said he touched her.”
With one word, Jorge destroyed any chance of talking it out like grownups. Now Siena was determined to make him understand who the ‘bitch’ was in this house. She wasn’t even afraid of him anymore. She was fiery rage from her scalp to her soles.
“I know he didn’t touch her. Becauseshewas strong enough not to let him. She didn’t say he touched her, and I didn’t say he touched her. She told me what happened, and I told the school. Exactly what happened. That Luis and the others tried to gaslight and humiliate her into letting them molest her.”
“Molest! Careful how you throw words around, you fucking whore. They might come back and slam you in the face. Because of you, Luis is suspended for three days. He’s gonna to miss JV baseball tryouts. For something thatallegedlyhappened during fucking Christmas break!”
Maybe at some point down the road when her offense was a memory, she might agree that a three-day suspension for the incident was a bit draconian, but considering that she’d fantasized about emasculating the little fucks, right now draconian worked just fine for her.
And this big fuck right here was sending her rage way out of the realm of reason. She was ready to fight the guy.
“I see where Luis gets his attitude about women. Maybe being suspended will shape the little bastard up before he’s able to get his tiny little dick hard and tries torapethe next girl.”
Jorge roared and grabbed Siena by the shirt. He threw her off the porch and onto the gravel of her front yard. She landed hard on her back, all those little lava rocks digging in like knifepoints, and Jorge was charging at her, fist raised.
Her breath gone, unable to get up in time to get out of his way, Siena tried to curl up—but then Jorge was yanked backward.
When Siena could make sense of the scene, she saw the neighbor. He had Jorge in a headlock. Jorge was fighting it, and he was bigger than the neighbor, but the neighbor was strong—maybe stronger. As Siena scrambled to her feet, she heard the neighbor speaking Spanish, and Jorge’s strained voice speaking Spanish back. Then Jorge tried to bend forward to break the headlock, and the neighbor—since he was saving her ass, she supposed she could start thinking of him by name again—Cooperdid some complicated thing with his legs and put Jorge on the ground. Then he was on top of Jorge, had him pinned, and was still rattling off Spanish while his fist was raised and ready.
She had no idea how that had all happened, but Jorge finally put his hands up in concession. Still speaking Spanish, he said something more. His voice was rough and he was breathless, but his tone was calming down. Cooper answered, nodding, and put his fist down. He gave Jorge’s chest one pat, then rolled up to his feet and offered Jorge his hand.
Jorge took the help and stood. Siena understood nothing, not what had happened, not what had been said. She probably should have taken Spanish in school.
