by Tara West
I kicked my blankets off and punched my pillow, wishing I could scream but fearing I’d make my burning throat worse. I was too sick and too tired to cry over Cesar, so I rolled over with a resigned groan as a solitary tear rolled onto the pillow. That’s all Cesar was going to get out of me.
He’s not worth your tears, Savannah.
That’s what I kept telling myself. I wondered if Cesar missed me as badly as I missed him, or had all that talk about love been a lie?
Chapter Ten
Cesar
I’d wanted to call Savannah all day, but it was balls-to-the-wall at work. Two of my mechanics, at two different shops, hadn’t shown up, so I had to work in the garage half a day at one location, then drive across town and help the guys at the other shop catch up on oil changes. The cars were wrapped around the building, and the customers weren’t happy. It was half-past-seven by the time I got out of there. After I showered and grabbed flowers and chocolates, it was almost nine o’clock when I made it to Savannah’s house.
I’d almost called her on the way over, but what I needed to say would be said best in person. I’d fucked up big time, and Savannah deserved a decent apology.
The house was eerily quiet when I walked into the foyer. Most of the downstairs lights were off, which meant Savannah and Jake were probably in bed.
I shut the door behind me and quietly padded across the foyer. I’d almost made it to the bottom of the staircase when the old lady stepped out of the shadows, scaring the fucking shit out of me.
Bruja! She looked like a demon, with that permanent scowl and eerie glare.
I jumped back, swearing under my breath. “Jesus, Irma. What the hell are you doing?”
Her pointed stare made me want to crawl out of my skin, and I thought that mole above her lip moved lower.
“What are you doing here?” she said accusingly, as if I, not her, was the one who didn’t belong. Had things changed that much in one day? Had Savannah forgotten me so quickly? No. Not my bella.
“None of your damned business.” I widened my stance, crossing my arms and giving her a scowl of my own. “Where’s Savannah?”
“In bed,” she grumbled. The old woman actually had the nerve to turn her back on me, disappearing back into the shadows like a ghoul. She gave me the creeps. And I’d left Savannah alone with her.
No sooner had I come up the stairs than Jake and all three dogs launched at me.
“Cesar!” Jake squealed, practically knocking me down as he clutched my legs, burying his face in my side.
I patted his head. “Hey, buddy.” I tried to scoot back, but the kid wouldn’t let me go. To make matters worse, Nacho and the two little mutts barked and danced around my legs. Jake sniffled loudly against my shirt, and I was shocked to see his face covered in tears.
“Hey.” I cleared my throat, choked up for some reason. “What’s the matter?”
His lower lip trembled as he kicked the floor beneath his bare foot. “You left us.”
I knelt beside him, my heart falling at the look of betrayal in his eyes. “It was only for one night.”
He wiped his wet nose with the back of his hand. “Auntie said two weeks.”
I forced a smile before digging in my pocket for the napkin I’d used today during lunch. It had a bit of ketchup on it, but it would have to do. “I couldn’t stay away from you guys that long.” I handed it to Jake.
He smeared tears and ketchup across his cheeks. “So you’re back?”
“I’m back.” I wiped a smudge off his face.
His lower lip trembled. “And you’re not leaving again?”
“Not unless your aunt throws me out.” I squeezed his shoulder, forcing a note of confidence into my voice. “I wouldn’t blame her if she did.”
“She won’t throw you out.” He flashed a watery smile, revealing the gap where his two front teeth used to be. “She loves you.”
“Thanks, buddy.” I patted him on the back before rising. “Where is she?”
“In bed.” He frowned. “She’s sick.”
Savannah sick? No. She was probably just upset after the way I’d left her.
“I need to talk to her alone.” I pushed open his bedroom door and ushered the dogs inside. They obediently followed, tails swinging. “You need to get to sleep. You have school in the morning.”
He climbed into bed, and all three dogs jumped in beside him. Savannah had told him the dogs had to sleep on the floor, but I didn’t have the heart to shoo them away, especially when they started licking Jake’s face. They made him happy, and after what I’d put him through, I wasn’t about to ruin it.
“Night, Jake.” I ruffled the kid’s hair and then closed his bedroom door, walking to the other end of the hall with long strides. I couldn’t get to Savannah fast enough.
The moment I entered our bedroom, I was hit with steam and the sharp smell of medication. The lighting had been dimmed, but I saw the vaporizer and a wastebasket overflowing with tissue. There were pill bottles and more used tissues on Savannah’s nightstand. She lay on her side, breathing with a wheeze.
No use waking her if she was sick. We could talk later. I felt her forehead, swearing under my breath. She was burning up. Perspiration dripped down her face, into her hair, and onto the sheets. She mumbled something and curled into herself, coughing uncontrollably.
I grabbed her pill bottle, holding it up to a faint shaft of light. Antibiotics prescribed that day. At least she’d been to a doctor.
I dropped the pills on the nightstand, jumping when the door swung open and Irma barged in like an angry bull.
“Don’t you know how to knock?” I growled.
She set a tray holding steaming tea and folded linens on the nightstand and pushed me off the bed. “You can either help me or move out of the way. I need to change the sheets.”
I stared mutely at her for a minute. This bruja had a lot of nerve.
She waved impatiently at Savannah’s motionless form. “Pick her up.”
I hoisted Savannah into my arms and backed up, amazed at the speed with which Irma changed the bed. Savannah shifted in my arms with a sigh, snuggling against me and coughing into her palm.
“What did the doctor say?” I asked, maybe a little too gruffly before gently laying Savannah back on the bed.
“She has strep throat.” Irma tucked a blanket around her shoulders, then smoothed a hand across her brow, reminding me of my mother when I’d been sick as a child. “She gave her an antibiotic. She needs rest and fluids.”
Rest? How was she going to rest when Jake’s custody hearing was the next day? Savannah would not miss it.
Irma impatiently waved at me. “Prop her up,” she said, and when I’d done so, she fluffed four big pillows behind her. “Open your eyes, niña.” Irma uncapped a small bottle and poured liquid into a plastic shot glass. “You must take your medicine.”
“What is that?” I asked. God help Irma if it was holy water.
“Cough syrup.”
Savannah’s eyelids had barely fluttered open before Irma was forcing the medicine down her throat. Savannah swallowed and then coughed into her fist. Damn woman could have waited until Savannah was awake.
“Cesar?” Savannah’s bloodshot eyes lacked focus. “What are you doing here?” Her voice was so raspy, she sounded as if she’d smoked a dozen cartons of cigarettes.
“I’m here because I love you, bella.” I sat on the edge of the bed, clasping her clammy hands in mine, doing my best to block out Irma as she hovered behind me.
Her jaw slackened. “But you walked out.”
“I know.” I swallowed the knot of regret wedged in my throat. “I’m sorry.”
“Save your voice, niña,” Irma said behind me, the edge in her voice so hard, she could have cut ice. “You need rest.”
I cast a glance over my shoulder. The eye darts Irma shot at me confirmed she thought I was el diablo. Too bad for her I wasn’t looking for her approval.
“Irma, please give us t
ime alone,” I said in a tone that left no room for refusal. “Thanks for taking care of her.” Thanking Irma for anything was about as comfortable as walking barefoot over broken glass, but this wasn’t about my comfort.
Irma turned up her chin, looking at me with a disapproving glare. “You do not need to thank me for doing my job. The poor girl needs someone to look after her.”
She exited the room without a backward glance.
“Bitch,” I mumbled under my breath, hating her for making me feel like a worthless boyfriend and hating myself because she was right.
Chapter Eleven
Savannah
I woke up groggy and checked my phone. Half past ten. What the heck? Nobody had bothered to wake me? Jake’s custody hearing was at one, and my lawyer was picking me up in an hour. I pulled myself out of bed and forced myself to drink a few sips of water from the glass on the nightstand. It was mildly cool and not stale, which meant someone had refilled it this morning.
Cesar?
I vaguely remembered him holding a steaming cup of tea under my nose and forcing me to drink before tucking me in bed. Fool that I was, I’d been relieved he’d come back. At least I hoped he’d come back. I’d been so delirious last night, it could have all been a dream.
I trudged to the bathroom, muscles aching with every step as if I’d been hit by a Mack truck. The hot shower felt good on my throbbing head, but after five minutes the steam made me dizzy. I wrapped myself in a towel and sat on the toilet, hanging my head in my hands. I felt so damn bad.
“What are you doing?”
Cesar glared at me from the doorway.
I straightened, pushing myself off the toilet. “What does it look like?” My voice cracked like splintered wood, my throat still raw and sore. “I’m getting ready for court.”
Cesar was by my side, his strong arm around my waist. “You’re too sick.”
I hated having him so near me. I was a booger factory, and he looked sexier than should be legal in dress pants and a crisp, white shirt. Good thing my nose was stopped up, and I couldn’t smell him. His masculine musk would have been my undoing.
“I don’t give a damn, Cesar,” I said, reluctantly letting him towel me dry and then wrap a warm robe around my shoulders. “I’m not missing this.” I cinched the belt and lowered myself onto a chair in front of the vanity mirror. “You can go to work.” I waved him away, ignoring the erratic rhythm of my heart. “My lawyer’s picking me up.”
I opened a jar of facial cream, refusing to look at his reflection in the mirror while I rubbed moisturizer into my red, flaking nose. My face was gaunt and pale, and my eye bags had bags. I looked like Rudolph the Crackhead Reindeer.
“I’m going with you.”
I froze, fighting the urge to look at his reflection. “I don’t need you to come.” It was a lie. I needed him badly.
“I’m coming.”
I set down the face cream. My throat tightened when I stared into his puppy dog eyes. Why did he have to look so cute? “You walked out on me.”
He knelt beside me, taking my hands in his warm, strong grip. “Savannah, I’m sorry. You have every right to be mad, but I love you, and I swear I will always be here for you.”
“Hmmph.” I pulled away and looked at my reflection in the mirror. “Except when you’re not.”
He’d apologized, so why was I still mad at him? Couples fought, didn’t they? They were supposed to make up afterward, weren’t they?
Maybe it was the timing. He’d walked out on me the night after he’d told me he loved me. I couldn’t help but think his confession was just words, nothing more. That if he truly loved me, he would have stayed. I’d exposed myself to him, leaving my body and soul raw and vulnerable, and he’d abandoned me. How could I trust him now? How could I believe him?
He sat on my vanity, hogging my personal space. Cupping my chin in his hand, he forced me to look at him. “I’m not leaving again.”
His luminous eyes, twin coppery gems set between thick lashes, didn’t waver as they searched mine. He looked so sincere.
“So you say.” The words came out in a monotone, almost as if someone else was speaking for me.
He stiffened but didn’t break eye contact. “I mean it.”
I shrugged, pretending I didn’t care. Pretending my heart wasn’t imploding. But I did care, and I hated myself for it.
* * *
I twisted my hair back in a simple bun, dabbed a bit of powder on my freckles, and put on one of my old work suits. I felt guilty about missing sending Jake off to school this morning. I hadn’t explained to him the significance of today, so it’s not like he’d be nervous. I sure as heck was.
I gave Irma my car keys and instructed her to get Jake if I wasn’t home in time. I hated depending on her so much. I knew that was her job, but I still didn’t feel right about it. Dropping off Jake and picking him up had been my job, and I loved doing it. I hoped he wouldn’t think I didn’t want to be there for him.
I managed to eat a little soup and then let the dogs distract me until the lawyer’s car came. I wasn’t happy to see one of the junior lawyers waiting in the back of the limo, a new girl who didn’t look much older than me. She reassured me this was an open-and-shut case. I wasn’t so sure.
Cesar held my hand the whole trip to the courthouse. He kept telling me everything was going to be okay, but I was still scared.
A sign on the courtroom door said no food or drink, but my throat was so sore, I couldn’t help myself. I sat in back, taking secret sips of water while waiting to be called.
Candace, Jake’s social worker, stood at the front of the room, occasionally speaking to the judge. She was a middle-aged woman with cropped blonde hair, who was a little on the thin side. I’d first met her the day the cops had mistaken me for my sister and arrested me. She’d pulled Jake into her car, wanting to make sure it was safe to leave him with me. As if. Nobody loved my nephew more than I did. Nobody.
But I got the feeling she knew how much I loved Jake after a few visits to my house. I’d made it clear I was giving Jake unconditional love and support, and Jake had told her several times he’d never been happier. After her last visit, she’d actually left with a smile, which was weird. Up until then, I hadn’t realized the lady had any facial expressions other than a perpetual frown.
Then again, after watching the number of asshole parents who went before the judge, I understood why Candace was always frowning. Those poor kids. One mother had been selling her food stamps for drugs and feeding her kids dog food. Dog food! Another had chained up her kids outside. She’d actually put shackles around their legs. Sheesh. My dogs were treated better than these kids. The worst had to be the father who had knowingly let a convicted child molester babysit his nine-year-old daughter. I couldn’t even comprehend what had gone on in that dad’s mind. These parents made my sister look like Mother Teresa.
When the deputy brought my sister into the courtroom with shackles around her wrists and ankles, my heart hit the floor, then took off at a race. She had a black eye and blood crusted around her nose, which meant she’d been in a fight.
After the deputy sat her down in the second row with a bunch of other inmates, she scanned the room, then nodded to an elderly man in a clergy uniform, sitting on the bench across from me. What was that all about? Had Kim suddenly found Jesus? I seriously doubted that, unless Jesus had promised her a pound of crack.
I coughed into my fist as quietly as I could and took another sip of water. I’d be so relieved when this was all over, and I could go back to bed.
We waited nearly an hour before we were called before the judge. By this time, I was so sick to my stomach, I could barely stand. I had to lean against Cesar for support, doing my best to keep from swaying when we walked to the front of the courtroom. I stumbled once, but Cesar caught me.
The Honorable Judge Torres, a heavy-set Hispanic man with a greying beard and a long nose, looked down at us from behind the bench as he read over paperwork
the clerk had handed him.
“Miss Boudreau,” the judge said, looking at me through little circular spectacles, “are you all right?”
“I’m sorry, your honor.” I coughed as heat flamed my face. “I have a cold.”
Cesar held me up with a possessive arm around my shoulders. Thank God he’d come with me today. I didn’t know if I could have survived this without him.
“Your honor.” Kim waved at me with her shackled wrists. “I don’t want my sister to have custody of my son.”
The judge gazed at her, deep lines marring his brow. “Miss Miller, let me make one thing clear. You do not speak unless I call on you. Understood?”
Kim slouched in her chair, silently nodding.
“All right, then, Miss Miller. Why don’t you want your sister to have custody of your son?”
“Just look at her.” She snarled. “She’s not fit to raise him.”
I coughed again, and rules be damned, I uncorked my water and took a drink, which did little to soothe my parched throat.
“Your honor, if I may,” my lawyer spoke up, ending on a squeak. Oh, great. Minnie Mouse was representing me.
The judge waved to her. “Go ahead, Counsel.”
“Miss Boudreau has strep throat. She is on antibiotics and will be fine in a few days.” Minnie cleared her throat and glanced at the papers in her hands. “Miss Boudreau may be young, but she’s very mature and responsible for her age.” Her voice wavered, and she punctured all the wrong words, as if she was a fifth grader, rehearsing lines for a school play. “She was high school valedictorian, graduated business school top of her class, and worked at a prestigious PR firm before inheriting over $500 million from her late father.”
The judge’s jaw dropped. “Five hundred million?” He nodded at Kim. “And you two are sisters?”
“Half-sisters,” I corrected. “Different fathers.”
The judge turned to Kim, mumbling under his breath. “Miss Miller, you were arrested for armed robbery?” He shook his head, snickering. “Couldn’t you have borrowed from your sister?”