Page 38 of Falcon's Prey

Ren whistled. “That’s a lot of cash.”

“It’s a donation for the Day of the Dead.”

“Do you fund the whole thing?”

I ignored him. Some of the money went to the parade, the rest for local charities in this community, but I didn’t handle those.

When I heard the steps coming back, I turned to Ren. “Open the trunk.”

Jorge came carrying stacks of thick Mexican blankets, while Mrs. Rosales brought a huge pot.

“Gracias,” I told her.

“No, mi niña, gracias a ti.” She thanked me and gave me a kiss on my cheek. I turned around and left.

“See you at the parade,” she called after me.

I didn’t turn around but said, “You know I’d never miss it.”

As soon as Ren and I were alone in the car, he moved the mirror so he could look at me. “Are there drugs in those blankets?”

I laughed. “Do you think I’m some kind of mule?”

When he didn’t answer, I knew he wouldn’t put it past me. That hurt a bit, but like with all other disappointment in my life, I shook it off.

“Drive back home,” I said, putting the partition up.

The drive back home was uneventful.

As Ren made his way to the hotel, I told him to take a turn into one of the alleys. He brought the Maybach to a halt when he saw the tents all around the end of the aisle.

“Are you here to score drugs?”

“No!” I was appalled. “I can get my dealer to deliver those.”

“Then why haven’t you?” He regarded me with a weird look.

“Because you have them.”

When he didn’t admit nor deny anything, I tried to get the door open, but he’d locked it.

“I want you at my side at all times,” he demanded.

When I nodded, he opened his door, then came to mine. As soon as I was out, his hand came to my back. It was hot and felt like it burned. I had never been more aware of someone’s touch in my life. I could tune them out during sex. Focus on other things and pretend like no one had their hands on me. With Ren, that seemed impossible.

“If we get mugged, I’ll kill you,” he whispered as people started to come our way.

“You’re kinda dramatic,” I told him as I motioned for him to open the trunk.

“And you have no regard for your life.”

I went to the side of the car to grab the pot Mrs. Rosales had given me.

Ren didn’t say anything more as we handed people blankets and tamales. He kept giving me weird looks that made me feel self-conscious. Once the last blanket was gone, I turned around and went to the car. Ren still stayed five more minutes, talking to the homeless. By the time he came into the car, I had put the partition up.

I think he got the feeling he knew I didn’t want to talk about what had happened today. Pretty soon he would stop feeling sorry for me and I would go back to being a bitch and he would go back to being an asshole I couldn’t get rid of.

Except it was those small acts of kindness that made their way to your heart and didn’t want to let go.

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