Page 22 of The Trap

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I quip, wanting to head back in the direction of the kitchen because before I call Carmine, I’m going to need more than that glass of wine. I’m going to need the bottle.

Another sigh sounds as Delilah’s heels click on the floor in front of the open doorway. “Sure, whatever you say. But I think you really need to get laid.”

“I’m fine,” I lie, and it’s an aggravating reality because I’ve been in a dry spell ever since I left the Cromwell’s that night. Granted a month wouldn’t be considered a dry spell for most, but it is for me and it’s all because I can’t seem to get that sexy pendejo out of my head.

“Right, that’s why you moan his name nightly,” she blurts.

Horror paints my face, and I can feel my cheeks warming. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Your vibrator,” she says nonchalantly. “These walls are paper thin. Not that I’m a perv or anything, but I can literally hear when you use it. You don’t exactly whisper every time you-”

“Okay, that’s enough!” I shout, purposely interrupting her. I walk towards the door, gently pushing her out.

I’m officially over this.

“Aw, don’t be embarrassed, it’s cute in a desperate and delusional sort of way. But let’s just hope he isn’t crazy. The last thing any of us needs is him snooping around where he doesn’t belong” she says, heading down the porch steps to her car. “Don’t forget to lock up! Sleepy Hollow isn’t as safe as it used to be,” she singsongs but she isn’t joking. Not only have there been a slew of decapitations – which ironically has attractedeven more tourists who already come here to enjoy the Headless Horseman lore – there has been a rise in home invasions and kidnappings seemingly out of nowhere.

“Got it!” I shout, already shutting the door, about to head to the kitchen just as my phone vibrates against my hip. Lifting it from where it’s tucked in the waistband of my booty shorts.

“Ay, dios mío,” I groan, opening Carmine’s message.

Carmine: Will you be gracing us with your presence this evening or are you suddenly too good for Satan’s???

Me: Cut the shit. I never agreed to work the pole.

Carmine: I never said you had to. There is more that goes into operating Satan’s than working the pole. Had you answered any of my calls the last two weeks, you would have known that.

Carmine: Last chance, Ramos. Stop by Satan’s tonight and we can discuss.

Me: Just give me one more day and then I’m yours.

Carmine: No thank you, ha

Me: Ew, not like that jackass. Sienna can keep your dusty ass

Carmine: You continually offend me Ramos

Me: And you continually piss me the fuck off so we’re even

Carmine: All jokes aside if you don’t make an appearance by tomorrow. It won’t be me you’ll be dealing with. It’ll be Sienna.

Oh fuck. Sienna, Carmine’s wife, is probably the only person who scares me more than he does. Which is saying something because I’m friends with Blair, and that girl is batshit crazy, and truthfully, I’m no calm ocean breeze myself.

Me: Fine. But I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for your beautiful wife.

Carmine: Whatever it takes. I’m holding you to it. Don’t fuck me over like last time. We don’t want a Cromwell 2.0

Me: Whatever

Me: Are you ever going to tell me what’s on those flash drives like you promised?

Carmine: I…can’t…hear…you’re… breaking up

Me: Puta madre! This is a fucking text message

Carmine: No. They’re in your brother’s hands now. Goodnight Ramos

Me: Whatever. Night

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