A Duel with Death

by Louisa Bacio

  “That was pretty fabulous, wasn’t it? I thought it might have been because it’s been a while for me.”

  “Really?” He turned his back and made two plates of food—tabouli, Greek salad, chicken and—his favorite—feta fries. “How long has it been?”

  “You wouldn’t believe it, but a few years.”

  “Me, too.”

  “What? No way.”

  He set one plate in front of her, and sat on the barstool next to her. “Why not?”

  “Because, look at you. You’re a hunk,” Carmen waved a hand in his direction. “How could you go a few years without, I mean…you know? You could walk into a club and have any woman you want.”

  “Ah, see, but that’s the catch. What if I don’t want any woman? I’ve dated women I’ve met casually before. It doesn’t work out.”

  She grabbed a long french fry, melted cheese hanging from its crisp edge, and took an oversized bite. “Mmmm. You are spoiling me in so many ways. These remind me of the chili cheese fries I ate in college after finals. Talk about overindulging on the calorie intake.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re one of those women who worry about every bite you eat?”

  “No way,” she said. “I lost a lot of weight over the last year, and I’ve been trying to gain it back.”

  Johnny stilled. The conversation went from fun and superficial to potentially serious danger zone. Did he want to go there? “Anything serious?”

  She tilted her head to the side and hesitated before answering. “Just kind of lost my appetite. Food tasted weird.”

  She realized what she’d said right after the words came out. Hell, yes, food had tasted awful. Metallic. Like something she’d never want to touch again, the result of the change in her taste buds after all the treatments. A side effect. That, and the nausea. The reason some people recommended marijuana to help increase appetite. Carmen hadn’t gone that route, and she’d slowly regained her appetite for food, as well as sex.

  With a nod, he accepted her explanation and she gave a silent “thank you.” She needed to watch her comments. No reason to pull Johnny into the darkness she’d been living in. She didn’t need her demons haunting him, since he had his own.

  “How did you learn to cook like this?” She took another bite, savoring the mixture of fresh greens with cucumbers and the slightly bitter kalamata olives.

  “Not my mamá, let me tell you. She’d curse me for not serving you rice and beans. One of the perks of being the manager of this fine establishment is having access to the chefs. I planned the menu and they helped cook.”

  “You cheated.” She pointed her fork at him. “But I forgive you because it tastes so good, it’s right here in your kitchen, and we don’t have to go anywhere. We can just stay here, half-naked, and gorge.”

  “I’m glad I have your approval, and that you’re ‘half naked.’”

  “You know, I’m a frijoles gal, too, anytime you want to make me your mom’s recipe.”

  She took a few more bites and watched Johnny’s face. The change was ever so subtle, but the corners of his eyes twitched when talk turned to his mother’s cooking.

  “After a lifetime of eating at home, I like experimenting with different cultures, and tastes,” he said.

  The twitch again. He glanced away and sipped his wine. There was something there, and despite everything she’d said, Carmen refused to leave it alone. “Do you see your mom often?”

  His fork fell to the counter with a clamor and he rested his head on his palms before addressing the question. “I’m not sure if you want to go there. I don’t have the best relationship with my mother, or her choice of boyfriends. As far as I know, she’s good. I try to stay away from all that Latin machismo.”

  For someone so laid-back and friendly, he was uptight on that issue. Sure, Carmen’s family grew boisterous at gatherings, and the guys liked to drink beer and watch football. Every wedding, and some funerals, included the required mariachi band, with her older cousin, Julio, playing the guitar. Carmen made a small altar with sugar skulls and offerings on Día de los Muertos to honor those who’d passed. She loved learning about various other cultures, but she took pride in her own.

  “What about your dad?”

  “He took off when I was a kid. Haven’t seen him since.” His tone told her not to push the subject any further. “How about you?” he asked, starting to eat again. “What’s your background?”

  So he didn’t know? Interesting. Well, he wasn’t the first person to assume she wasn’t a Latina, with her light complexion and blonde hair.

  “Mexican. My mother was born right outside Mexico City, and she also has blonde hair. I’m sorry for whatever turned you off on your background, but not all families are the same. You’ve gotta know that, right?”

  Well, there he went, putting his foot in it—a huge pile of shit. Johnny should have known better than to get too personal. He’d requested non-Latina in order to avoid a situation like this one. They were already too far into the evening—and if they hadn’t jumped into the sack within the first half-hour, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He’d have to make the best of it for now.

  “Listen, I shouldn’t stereotype, I know. After the third or fourth deadbeat loser my mom brought into the house, they all ran together. The guys she liked didn’t care too much about ‘protecting the family,’ but more about getting free room and board and plenty of sex.”

  He clenched his fists in his lap, working through the anger that always built when he talked about the situation by counting back from ten until it lessened. “Me? They often ignored me, unless I did something to rile them, like walk in front of the television or drink the last Coke.” He paused, trying not to let the memories dictate his life. “Then I was punished for my ‘stupidity.’ More like because I wasn’t their son. I steered clear of them as much as possible, and as soon as I could, I hit the road.”

  “I’m sorry, Johnny. I didn’t know and I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

  Again, he became ultra-aware of her, sitting so close to him. Carmen ran her hand down his arm. “What about extended family? Any good role models?”

  He sighed and dropped his shoulders. “Yeah, a few of my uncles are great, but seeing them with my cousins made me jealous. While I love them, sometimes I stayed away for that reason.”

  “I can see that, but you shouldn’t cut off those you love to avoid those you don’t like.”

  “Point taken.” He slid off the chair. “Can I get you anything else to eat?”

  She placed her hands over her stomach. “No, I’m full. That was good, though. Thanks.”

  After placing the dishes in the sink, Johnny wrapped the leftovers and stuck them in the refrigerator, where two slices of decadent chocolate cake with dipped strawberries rested on the shelf.

  “Would you like dessert now or later?” he called over his shoulder.

  “Later, please. After we work up another appetite.”

  He came back to the counter and picked up her wine glass. “Let’s go out on the balcony and I’ll show you the view.”

  Chapter Five

  It didn’t matter the time of year, nights chilled off in Dana Point with the cool ocean breeze. Better reason to wrap his arms around Carmen as they looked out at the sea. She leaned back against Johnny’s chest, the top of her head tucked under his chin. He nuzzled in, amazed at how right she felt.

  “To think, you get to see this every day.” She sighed. “What I wouldn’t give to wake to this view.”

  She was correct. He’d started to take the beauty of where he lived for granted. Quite the opposite, the woman in his arms embraced life and charged forward. Johnny was more fortunate than many and he needed to remember that.

  “Tomorrow you’ll get to wake up to it,” he whispered in her ear.

  “And next to you.” She turned around, and when her blue eyes connected with his, it was as if their souls connected on another level—as if they had known each other forever. She stood on tipt
oe. “Maybe, if I’m lucky, with you inside me.” The words wafted past his ear before cruising in a straight shot to his cock. “Oooh, feels like someone likes the sound of that.”

  He cupped her ass, squeezing the curvy shape and giving a silent thanks to Madame Eve for her matchmaking skills. Kissing Carmen, he walked her backward into the apartment with one destination in mind, the bedroom.

  Right when they entered the room, he lifted her then dropped her on the bed with a playful bounce. The hem of the nightgown rose, showing off her lovely pussy for him to feast on. Lord, all pretty, neat, and pink. Either she shaved, or his natural blonde had very little hair. With a growl, he pounced on the bed, pushing her until she lay flat and spread her legs as he settled between them. He brought his mouth level with her pussy and blew lightly.

  As soon as she realized what he was going to do, her lips opened in a sweet O, and the matching oooh popped out of her mouth. Soon she’d be purring in a whole different manner.

  With gentle strokes, he massaged the insides of her legs, leaving small bites on the way to his primary destination. He held her pussy lips open, curling his tongue into her and licking upward before flicking her clit in long, smooth strokes then circling. With each rotation, she tensed her thighs. He pulled her legs over his shoulders and held onto her ass, forcing her to stay still.

  “Oh, Johnny, that feels incredible. So good.”

  The praise encouraged him to go faster, and he plunged two fingers into her tight channel. His cock bulged under him, compressed between the mattress and his body. There was one place it wanted to be, and it wasn’t going to wait much longer.

  He reached for protection, putting on the condom before sliding along her body until they were lips to lips, chest to chest, hips to hips. Reaching between them, she opened for him and helped guide him. He pushed, retreating and pressing out and then just a bit farther. Until Carmen gripped his hips.

  “I want you inside me. Now.”

  Her heat enveloped his cock. He could spend days between her legs. Each thrust evaporated more fear of bad relationships, until all that remained was pleasure shooting up his spine and filling every bit of the emotional emptiness within him. Her moans and his groans blended, until she climaxed and Johnny memorized each feature of her face as she did. As the power of his own orgasm overtook him, a bright white light flashed. He slammed his eyes shut, blocking out everything else, and gave himself over to her.

  ***

  Sleep toyed with his psyche. Beside him, Carmen murmured, but he couldn’t make out any words. Her backside curved into him and Johnny slipped his arm under her breasts, holding her tight. He could get used to the comfort and security of sleeping with someone—with her.

  Growing attached too fast wasn’t his style. He’d never expected to get wrapped in one night. The evening was supposed to be a kick-start to get back into the swing of dating. But now? He couldn’t imagine seeing anybody else.

  His eyelids weighed down and his body relaxed. He’d been so amped, it was good to relax and let it all go. In the distance, jazz played, welcoming him into a lush landscape of dreams.

  Footsteps in the wet sand beckoned, and he followed the sound of a woman’s tinkling laughter and waves crashing onto the shore. He caught the scent of the salty water and a fine mist kissed his face. She was somewhere nearby, but he couldn’t find her.

  A wicked game of hide and seek. Johnny combed the shoreline, searching for his love. Dark clouds clogged the sky, obliterating the sun. A chill sank through his skin, straight to his veins, and his movements grew sluggish. The debris beneath his feet froze and changed to jagged spikes, cutting through the tender soles of his bare feet. Pain lashed his legs, but he fought to continue forward.

  Red streaks bled from the sky, marring his vision. And then the voice he’d tried to forget; the voice of Death.

  “Soon, she will be mine.”

  Johnny woke to Carmen’s screams.

  She struggled in her sleep. “No, no! Leave me alone.” Quiet for a few beats, she said, “Someone, please, help me. I don’t want to die.”

  “Shhh,” he soothed, caressing her hair and attempting to bring her out of the nightmare. “It’s all right. You’re fine. It’s just a dream.” What were the odds they were both having a nightmare at the same time, after sharing the evening of passion? Bizarre.

  She flung an arm toward him and sat upright. Johnny dodged away, but the tips of her fingers managed to graze his face.

  Eyes wide, Carmen searched out the room, confusion on her face. “What happened? Where am I?”

  “I think you were having a nightmare,” he said. “Do you remember anything?” She shivered, despite the warmth in the room. He drew her into his arms. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “I don’t remember much. Just this darkness. No, it was red. I couldn’t see anything, but I knew something was there, and it wanted to take me. Take my soul.”

  Her answer stilled him. That’s too close. Maybe, after being together for a long time, a couple could share some common experiences and maybe have related dreams, but for he and Carmen? Why would she pick up on the dream he’d had before, the one starring Death, and then again tonight?

  But things happened in the universe that couldn’t always be explained. He didn’t discount the paranormal, or extrasensory, yet at the same time he didn’t seek it out. He didn’t go ghost hunting, or research vampires, or visit tarot readers. Hell, he hadn’t read his horoscope since he’d been a teenager trying to figure out who he should ask to prom. His mamá had instilled a healthy respect for the supernatural in him, though, especially those dark forces that might want to mess with one’s life.

  “Was it Death?” he asked. “Coming for you? Were you on the beach?”

  She pulled back. “Yes, how did you know?”

  “I had the same dream, except I was looking for you and couldn’t find you. Death was going to get you first.”

  Silence hung heavy in the room as they fell into their own thoughts. Johnny dissected potential reasons for the synchronized dreams and came up empty. He ran his fingers through his hair.

  “You look sexy when you do that,” she said. “Very California-surfer boy. And that bronzed skin….”

  She’s changing the subject.

  “Aren’t you worried about all this?” he asked. “It seems way more than a mere coincidence. I don’t know what to make of it.”

  She let out a deep sigh and played with a seam on the bedspread. “I’ve been having the same dream for a few months now. I thought it was just me, working through some issues.”

  How could she tell him she’d been close to dying and didn’t know if she was going to live? Carmen wanted the evening to be carefree and then she could face the heavy shit later. Were her dreams so powerful they sucked Johnny into them, or was it something different? The alternative scared the hell out of her.

  “You’re not going to let me brush this under the table, are you?”

  He shook his head. “I’m afraid not. It sounds like there’s more going on than you’ve told me, and I deserve the whole story. I understand tonight was supposed to be a one-night stand, sex with no strings attached. Let me tell you, I’m attached. I’d like to see more of you.”

  The tenderness in his voice and concern in his eyes touched her heart. He was a man she could fall for—tough, but also loving. She shut her eyes, invoking the will to be strong. “I have cancer, or I had cancer.”

  He remained quiet, waiting for her to go on.

  “Breast cancer. That was the scar you asked about. I had a lump removed, and followed up with radiation. I’m one of the lucky ones. I caught it early.”

  “But you’re so young.” His brows creased, he moved closer to her.

  “Women of all ages can be affected, and some men.”

  “Is it gone?”

  Her purse hung over a back of a chair in the living room, and the results were tucked inside. Even though the letter wasn’t near her, she remained consc
ious of its existence, at all times. Carmen pushed that awareness down to avoid thinking about it.

  “I don’t know.” Her voice hitched. God, she didn’t want to cry. Not now. She’d done enough crying for a lifetime, and it did nothing to help the situation.

  He took her hands in his, and she met his gaze. “What’s the next step? When do you find out?”

  “Well, that’s the funny thing. I’ve got a letter from the doctor. Here with me now, but I’m too chicken to open it.”

  “What?” Johnny asked, incredulous. “Do you want me to open it for you?”

  “Maybe. Tomorrow. I told myself I wouldn’t think about it for the weekend and not until after being with you. A day won’t make a difference in the outcome or the treatment. But for now, I wanted to hold out hope maybe everything would be all right and I might have a future.”

  He glanced toward the living room. “I understand. But these dreams…. Do you think I’m picking up on your feelings, somehow?”

  She shrugged. “I have no idea. It’s more than weird. And who’s this Death character? He sure is scary.”

  “Tell me about it. I had the first dream a couple of weeks ago, even before I registered with 1Night Stand. I had no idea then that I’d meet you.” A wicked smile spread across Johnny’s face. “I might have a few ideas to make you forget all about it.”

  She returned the grin. “I’m sure you do.”

  “I’ll be right back.” He headed to the kitchen and seconds later, the refrigerator door opened and shut. Re-entering the room, he instructed, “Close your eyes.”

  With pure trust, Carmen lay back against the pillow, eyes shut and lips parted. He bit the tip of one berry and drew it across her lips. Her tongue darted out, licking the juices. “Mmmm, good.”

  He held the fruit against her mouth. “Bite.”

  Her teeth crunched through the decadent shell of a chocolate-covered strawberry. Sweet. “Even better.” She opened her eyes. “More, please.”