Page 24 of Loving Smoke

Blood pushed off the desk. “Did you?”

“No, I fuckin’ did not.”

Blood cocked his head in his annoying way calling bullshit.

“I’m telling you, I didn’t. She lives with her damn family. What was I gonna do screw her on the back of my bike?”

Blood’s lips twisted. Another annoying tell.

“All right, so yeah, I’ve screwed plenty of bitches on the back of my bike, but not Marisol.”

“Ahhhh, isn’t that cozy calling her by her name.”

“What the fuck you want me to call her? It’s her name.”

“I find it interesting since you usually refer to women as bitches, and you rarely even get a name.”

“She works for us for fuck’s sake of course I know her name.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. What’s the name of the stripper who does her act in the sexy cowgirl outfit, or the blonde who wears the Mexican flag G-string?”

My brain worked overtime, and even though I couldn’t come up with their names I wasn’t gonna tell the fucker he was right.

“Don’t know them, right?”

“After the night I had you want me to recite the names of?—”

“Save it. You got women working here who strip practically naked and you don’t know their names, or give a shit about them, but the barely legal bartender fully clothed has your constant attention.”

“You keep mentioning her age. What the fuck does that have to do with it?”

Blood rubbed at his jaw. “Let’s see, I believe her application said she was twenty-two and if I remember correctly on your last birthday you turned thirty-five. Which makes you thirteen years older than her.”

“Wow, you trying to dazzle me with your math skills?” I rubbed at the back of my neck. “What’s your point?”

“You got no business being with her. That’s my point.”

“I settled her down, then took her home. It sure doesn’t pay to have one of our employees rattled and shooting off their mouth about what went on tonight. I don’t know why you’re getting so fucked up about this.”

“Cause we’re down here to make inroads with Sandoval, make this place a success with the ultimate goal of getting back to the States and outta this shit hole. You getting with some random tail doesn’t fit into the plan.”

“And I know all that.”

“You say that, but I’ve seen it before with you and I’ve also seen that look in your eyes when it comes to a woman.”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” I waved my hand at Blood mainly cause he was getting a little too close to the bone.

“You had the same damn look with that Tamara chick. It’s like an obsession with you. Some guys get strung out on blow or meth, but for you it’s pussy. It starts out slow and then all of a sudden you’re hooked, but instead of shoving shit up your nose you’re forgetting about your priorities and letting shit slide. Women are an addiction to you whether you wanna admit it or not, and we can’t afford to go down that road again.”

“We?”

“Yeah, you and me, brother. Cause right now we’re all we got down here, so let’s concentrate on finding out who robbed us tonight and forget about random snatch.”

The worst part was I couldn’t deny Blood’s words. I would’ve loved to tell him he was wrong and to go to hell, but we were always honest with each other even when it hurt. A shrink would probably blame my issue with women on some fucked up shit from my childhood, but for me it was basic need.

When I was with a woman all the static disappeared and I focused on the moment. Getting women had always been easy, and I guess I like what comes easy. Sex was just the added bonus. Since my early teens I discovered how easy it was to please a woman. After that it was full steam ahead—again, I like easy. Didn’t matter if it lasted, I got off on the high of someone wanting me for however long. Harsh fuckin’ realization, but true. In my own way I was dependent on women although most times it appeared to be the other way around.

“I think we can be sure tonight’s fuck up had something to do with Sandoval.” I needed to get Blood on another subject. Much easier to discuss business than my fucked up emotions.