Page 31 of Fate

Carson kisses me swiftly before he’s gone in what feels like a flash.

“He’ll call me,” I repeat to the closed door, feeling cold and alone all over again.

I shake my head, thinking I very well may have stepped into the Twilight Zone. There’s only one thing I neednow.

Reinforcements.

“¿Ahora lo que dijo?” Maria’s screech is so loud I have to hold the phone away from my ear to avoid losing an eardrum.

“Ria, English, please.”

“Lo siento. Sorry. He said what now?” she repeats.

“He said he’d call me.” I close my eyes and press my thumb and forefinger into my temples. It sounds like a stupid blow-off, even tome.

“And this wasn’t a bootycall?”

I sigh. “Maria, I haven’t had sex in three years. The last time I had sex was with Carson. This was not a bootycall.”

She hums as if she’s thinking about what I told her. “And he blew youoff?”

Another broken sigh slips from my lips. “Yeah. Now I don’t know what todo.”

“How did he sound when he took thecall?”

“Agitated. Angry. It sounded like whoever called him wasn’t supposed to. But that doesn’t sound right either. If it was the mystery woman Chase mentioned last week, she should be able to call him. Right?”

“Si. But if he was angry, maybe he broke up with her recently, then met up with you, had the night of his life, got his Sweetcheeks back, and didn’t want to deal with the other woman’s skanky ass anymore.”

I laugh. Leave it to Maria to make light of any situation.

“Maybe. God, I don’t know. It was just weird. What do you think I shoulddo?”

“As much as I hate to say it, wait it out. If he doesn’t call tonight, you’ll know something’s up. He is a man. They do weird shit all the time. Just the other day I saw Eli walking through the house carrying a duffle bag. When I asked what was in the bag, he acted all put out. Estupido. You never act strange when a woman asks about something, especially if you don’t want her toknow.”

I cringe. “What was in thebag?”

“Guns,” she says flatly.

“Guns!” I scream into the phone and glance around my apartment as if the mere mention of the vile things could magically manifest in the center of my livingroom.

“Si. Keep up,” she chastises me. “He was taking guns out to the shed to hide them for an old friend who was going to stop by because he owed him a marker.”

He owed the “friend” a marker. I’ve watched Sons of Anarchy. Markers are always awful things scary dudes with names like Butch demand in return for a favor they once did foryou.

“Holy shit, he owed guns to someone? Like a bad guy?” I gasp, placing my fingertips over my mouth.

Sometimes finding out the finer details of your friend’s marriage to a badass bounty hunter is not all roses and chocolates. Guns? Jesus. Now I had two things to worry about. Carson being a weirdo after a night of what I kind of thought was us getting back together, and Maria and her husband hiding guns in a shed. What the heck is goingon?

“No se preocupe. No worries. It’s not a big deal. One of his FBI friends needed them for a raid. He’d gotten them from another raid himself, so they were going back to the feds. Still, it’s off the books. You know, like when the Italians say, ‘It fell off the truck,’” she says nonchalantly.

“The Italians?” I stutter over my words. “You mean the flippin’ Mafia?”

“Si, si. Now you’re paying attention. Kind of like that—only totally the goodguys.”

I rub at my now aching head. “Maria, how does any of this help me?” I want to say it’s accomplished the exact opposite by giving me a heart attack.

“Basically, I’m saying, guys do stupid shit. They act like the world is ending, when really it’s just putting guns into a shed for theFBI.”

---