Rock Chick Regret (Rock Chick #7)(116)

And I didn’t know what mujer meant but it didn’t sound as good as, say, preciosa or mi cielo.

“Um…” I replied because I didn’t know what else to say, the Scorching Hector Glare was burning straight into my brain making my mind go blank.

Hector’s eyes sliced to Eddie.

“We’ll be there after Sadie changes.”

Eddie (wisely, in my personal opinion) silently nodded and everyone prepared to leave.

I took Daisy and Jet aside on Hector’s front porch and I whispered to Jet, “What does mujer mean?”

Jet bit her lip before saying, “It means ‘woman’ and it usually isn’t bad but I think Hector’s kind of mad.”

Kind of?

She’d obviously not been seared by The Scorch.

I looked at Eddie, Marcus and Hector who were all standing by Eddie’s shiny, red Dodge Ram and talking.

“Does he think I’m family?” I breathed.

“Oh Sadie, Blanca calls you mi hija and Hector’s a Chavez through and through. They work fast. Even if Hector decided to give you a break and let you out of La Reunión, Blanca would hunt you down, no doubt about it.”

I stared at her.

How did this happen?

“This must be what he meant by not f**king around anymore,” I told them.

“What does that mean?” Daisy asked and, still reeling from all that was happening, I shared Hector and my conversation from the morning before or Hector’s conversation, since I wasn’t allowed to talk (I told them that too).

Daisy and Jet grinned at each other, not like something was funny but like something made them really, really happy.

Then Daisy said, “Sugar, count your lucky stars he gave you a week of f**kin’ around. Now that he’s serious, you’re his. No ifs, ands or buts, just plain ole his. Comprende?”

“But –” I started.

“I say this to all the girls even though they never listen but I’ll say it again, don’t fight it,” Jet cut in.

“But –” I tried again.

Daisy giggled at Jet. “Now we get to the fun stuff.”

Fun?

Were they plum crazy?

This was not fun!

Before I could say more, they hugged me and left.

Leaving me alone with Angry Hector.

Blooming heck.

His long strides took him from the sidewalk to me in no time at all. He grabbed my hand and dragged me into the house.

“Choose now, we shower here or we shower at your place,” he said, not breaking stride as he pulled me up the stairs.

We shower?

We?

“Hector –”

He turned unexpectedly and tugged me into the bathroom.

“We shower here. Ralphie and Buddy might be at your place, here, you can make all the noise you want.”

Noise?

I was going to make noise?

Why would I…?

Then it came to me.

Oh no.

“Hector –”

His hands went to the hem of the flannel, up and then it was gone.

“Hector!” I snapped.

His blazing eyes locked on mine. “Mamita, we don’t have a lot of time, don’t piss me off. Pissin’ me off is gonna take time.”

My mouth dropped open.

Then I snapped it shut.

“Don’t… don’t…” I stuttered then demanded to know, “Why are you angry?”

He put his hands to both sides of my neck, pulled me close and tilted his head down to look at me.

“I don’t know,” he replied sharply. “Maybe it’s because your first thought this morning was that anyone would think you were a murderer, even me. Fuck, you sat in my f**kin’ lap and swore to me you didn’t do it like I would think for one f**kin’ second that you would.”

“But –” I tried to cut in but he kept talking.

“Or maybe it’s because no matter what I do and what you do, you aren’t f**kin’ cluin’ into what’s happenin’ here.”

“And what, exactly, is happening here?” I shot back.

His eyes got dark (or, I should say, darker) and he said quietly, “Now you’re pissin’ me off.”

I threw my hands out to the sides, exasperated. “Why?”

His eyes narrowed. “Are you payin’ attention at all?”

“Yes!” I snapped, totally over it and then I went straight into a rant. “But I don’t get it. Excuse me, Hector Chavez, but you saw how I grew up, you know! I’ve never been to a Family Meeting! I’ve never put on lip gloss in the restroom of a club with my girlfriends! I’ve never sat around a dinner table looking through photos and reminiscing! All this is happening while the Balducci brothers are assaulting and threatening me, my father is freaking me out and I’m having conversations with police detectives. Not to mention, you’ve decided not to ‘f*ck around anymore’, whatever that means, and I have an opening tomorrow! So, if I’m a little slow, you’ll have to cut me some f**king slack, all right?”

Somewhere during my rant, Mr. Mood Swing decided he wasn’t angry anymore (really! how was I supposed to keep up with this guy?) and his face went soft, his eyes went so warm they were hot and his fingers drifted up into my hair.