Hijacked

by Sonia Esperanza

  She closed the distance between us, closing those soft lips over the skin between my eyebrows. “Thank you for tonight,” she whispered against my skin. And this time, the goosebumps pebbling weren’t on her skin.

  Things changed between the two of us. If I was being honest with myself, they had been changing for quite some time.

  I no longer viewed Hector as my enemy or kidnapper. He was my friend, my best friend. The one I could tell all of my deepest secrets to in the dark and he wouldn’t hold them against me once daylight arrived. The one I trusted enough to smile around. The one who put my mind and my heart at ease. The one I missed the moment I stepped behind a door separating us.

  A week passed since his apology dinner and each night when we laid down for the night, we swapped mother stories. I learned about Maria Jazmín Rivera and I relayed every single one of my memories of Michelle Anne Miller.

  He lost his mother at thirteen, getting one more year with his mom than I had with mine. Our childhoods mirrored each other’s so perfectly. While my dad didn’t have anything to do with me, all Hector’s dad showed him was tough love. Both of us were raised by our beautiful, graceful angels we liked to call Mom.

  I grew obsessed with him. I counted down the hours until our lives permitted us to come back together. And when we were together, he was the subject I needed to have a perfect score in. I wanted all the extra credit of Hector I could sign up for. I basked at the sight of each smile I managed to wrestle out of him, my insides doing victory dances whenever those lips tilted up.

  His smile was the best sight I’d ever seen, putting the Liberty Bell I passed by for the four years straight I attended college to shame. Any words tumbled from his lips became my new favorite words.

  Annie, a growl when I mercilessly teased him.

  Bonita, a whisper when I took a piece of me and handed it over to him as keepsake.

  I turned off the TV when I heard the click of the bathroom door. Hector walked in, not looking at me. I swore the only reason he didn’t find my eyes after his shower was because of the want he saw in them.

  The towel wrapped around his waist was my exclusive form of torture, giving me just enough to have my imagination run wild. His hardened stomach forming a V, a trail of dark hair disappearing into the towel. His wide shoulders and hard chest coated with little drops of water he missed. He dropped the towel, giving me a stellar view of two perfect globes of ass. Delicious ass. Better than cinnamon rolls, at least that’s what I told myself when I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the sight.

  I climbed on the bed when he turned around, in the middle of pulling his boxers up his muscular thighs. “You see something you like, bonita?”

  I smirked, folding my body under the blanket and turning on my side. “It takes two to tango, right?” I blinked behind my lashes.

  He threw on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt faster than I could blink. The memory of the two of us in the gym assaulting his memory. I laughed, settling deeper into bed. He threw his towel in the hamper and grabbed his blanket before settling in next to me.

  A request of another memory of his time with his mom was on the tip of my tongue when he beat me to it. “I’ve always wondered something.”

  “Hmm,” I hummed.

  “What’s with the jeans?”

  I rubbed my legs together underneath the blanket, reveling in the feel of the material. I grabbed a fist around the collar of one of Hector’s shirts I had on. “My mom’s dream was to be a mom. She could’ve been anything. She was smart and she was always the prettiest woman in the room. But all she wanted was to become a mother, and she always wanted a daughter. Someone she could dress up in cute clothes, do each other’s makeup, paint our nails together. She was the textbook definition of a girly-girl. From ages one to twelve, I didn’t own a pair of jeans. She coordinated my outfits every day, always either in dresses or cute sweaters and leggings.

  “We were the picture perfect mother-daughter combo. After she died, after I realized what I was going to do.” His hand reached over, curling around the ends of my hair but I didn’t call him out on it. “I bought my first pair of jeans from the thrift store. They were tight. I felt them with each step I took. With dresses and sweaters, it’s comfortable. I wasn’t comfortable. I was on edge, running toward the future as fast as I could.”

  I shrugged. “I guess it stuck. I wear jeans because it reminds me not to get comfortable. It reminds me that I have to be on edge. I feel the denim digging into my skin from the waist all the way down to the hem.”

  He didn’t say anything for a while in a silence I had grown familiar with. Each time I shared a piece of me, he seemed to think about it, process it, and maybe even tuck it away somewhere like he’d have to call back on it in the future. I couldn’t read him, see what thoughts swirled inside of that head of his, not when he hid those brown eyes from me.

  We spent the night in silence. Him thinking about my jeans and me falling asleep to the beauty of him. Just before I fell asleep, his finger tugged at my hair and my eyes fluttered open. “Thank you,” he whispered.

  “For what,” I whispered back.

  He seemed to think, to search for the perfect words. “For letting me see the real Annie. She’s so much more beautiful without her weapons.”

  I swallowed past the lump in my throat and closed my eyes, but I didn’t fall asleep for a very long time.

  His words echoed in my head all through the night and they were the first thing I heard when I opened my eyes. For letting me see the real Annie. She’s so much more beautiful without her weapons.

  I stopped, the very next morning, and took a pause on life. I didn’t rush to go downstairs to eat breakfast with him. I didn’t anticipate a day of work, a shooting session at lunch time. I didn’t think about tonight, if Hector would sit next to me again, or what we would confess to each other once we were both tucked in for the night.

  I turned the water on, allowing it to heat up before stripping out of my clothes, and standing before the massive mirror Hector had above the basin.

  I didn’t flinch at the sight of my reflection. My skin no longer felt prickly like it belonged to someone else. Leaning up against the framework of the sink, looking into the depths of my eyes, a blank canvas didn’t appear. The words that have assaulted me for years resurfaced, but this time they weren’t admonishing. No, this time, for the first time, they seemed hopeful.

  I don’t know who I am but it’s not the end of the world that I don’t.

  I don’t know who I am but it doesn’t make me uncomfortable anymore.

  I don’t know who I am... but I’m learning.

  Turning away from the mirror, I jumped into the shower, the pressure from the shower head pelting my skin, effectively soaking my face allowing me to believe that the water was the reason for my soaked cheeks.

  After I dressed for the day, I ventured downstairs. I peeked into the gym, thinking I’d find Hector lifting. But the room was empty. I walked into the kitchen and he wasn’t in there, either. I pulled out my phone to call him when I noticed a chain of text messages from him.

  I have something to take care of this morning.

  Nolan will take you to work today.

  Go easy on him, please.

  Have a good day, bonita.

  There is a plate of pancakes on a hot plate in the microwave in case you’re not in the mood for cereal.

  The warm feeling in the pit of my stomach crawled through my body until a smile blossomed on my lips. I didn’t bother fighting it.

  I turned, heading straight for my pancakes when I caught sight of Nolan sitting at the bar, sipping a cup of coffee. My phone slipped from my hands, a shrill scream escaping my lips. “Shit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck.” I didn’t even know what I was saying, my erratic heart cutting a circuit somewhere in my brain.

  “Are those the only words you know?” he asked quietly before averting his gaze from my gaping.

  “Nolan.” I said his name, pressing a hand over my chest
.

  He peeked up from his lashes and nodded at me. “Annie.” His voice held a soft note to it, like my name settled him.

  I retrieved my phone from the floor, trying to get to my pancakes once more. “How many times have you been in the same room as me and I haven’t noticed?”

  I grabbed my plate before sitting beside him at the bar. “A handful of times, I suppose,” he admitted from behind his coffee mug.

  “Why don’t you ever do something? Clear your throat. Scuff your shoes. Something.”

  He hitched one shoulder up in a shrug. “I’m used to being alone, I suppose. And if I’m not in a room by myself, the people in the room are usually too self-absorbed to notice anyone but themselves.”

  I held up a fork, offering a some of my food. Nolan shook his head. “You know something about being alone?” he asked warily, vulnerability leaking out of his voice that I felt like a crack in my chest.

  I nodded, chewing Hector’s fluffy goodness. “There were a few years in my life when I had no one. I was utterly alone and I felt it in each step I took like loneliness was a tangible thing. Once I moved out of New Hazle into the city for school, things shifted. I met Matt, who somehow saw past my bitchy comments and decided I was worth talking to. And now, I have Hector.”

  I didn’t know how long I had him for. I tried not to think about that. At all.

  Nolan scrunched his nose at the mention of Matt’s name. “Do you have an issue with Matt?”

  He squared his shoulders defensively. I would be asking Matt about that later. “He’s tolerable.”

  I snorted. “That he is.”

  I considered the man in front of me. The one who liked to stay hidden. The one who never sought out company. “Do you feel alone?”

  I averted my eyes, hoping that would make him comfortable to talk to me. His whisper came not even a second later. “Sometimes. I have a family I adore. People in my inner circle I care about. But my mind always keeps them at an arm’s length. I could be in a crowd of a million people and I’d still feel like I’m stranded on a deserted island.”

  I wanted to reach out to him but if he flinched from my touch, I wasn’t sure my heart could take it. “I’ve felt like that before.”

  I snuck a look at him to see his lips tilted, a dimple poking out on his left cheek. It was adorable. It brought out a boyish look to his features I decided right then and there I loved. “But not anymore,” he mused, his smile growing.

  My nose scrunched up. “Do you have something to say, Nolan?”

  He shook his head and looked down at his phone. “Are you ready?”

  I let his musings go, probably because he wanted an answer I wasn’t ready to give.

  The only time I called Hector was to tell him when my shift ended. He and I never texted before, the only texts I received from him was the chain from this morning. He didn’t seem like a person who texted. And if the unread messages from Matt and the two almost-friends who still texted me every so often from my internship at the shelter said anything, I wasn’t much of one either. So, it made no sense that in the six hours since Nolan dropped me off at work, I pulled open a blank message labeled to him and stared at the blank screen.

  I would write a message before promptly deleting it, letting my phone turn black before repeating the process all over again. Even the meticulous process of cleaning guns couldn’t keep my mind off of him.

  After deleting the first thirty drafts, I couldn’t take it anymore. I wanted to hear his voice, even if I got sent to his voicemail that would be enough to hold me over until he picked me up. He was a drug and I’d become way too addicted to him.

  It didn’t even ring once before his sigh rang through my ear. “I’m in the middle of a meeting right now. I’ll have Nolan pick you up.” He didn’t say my name. He didn’t call me beautiful. But his voice was tender, instantly warming my skin.

  I frowned. “How long are you going to be?”

  “Probably about an hour but I can just have Nolan come and get you.”

  I thought about them two. About how they seemed to switch from partners to brothers so effortlessly. That worked for everything but me. The two weren’t interchangeable. No one could replace Hector in my eyes. “I’ll wait for you.”

  He groaned over the line.

  I chuckled. “I’ll just grab something to eat nearby. Just come whenever you can.” I hung up before he could argue with me. It was a tactic I learned from him whenever he talked on the phone. He’d give his command and hang up. It was a thrilling feeling.

  I grabbed my jacket and closed my office door, slipping out of the range without gaining anyone’s attention. I noticed, over the past couple of weeks, on my trip to C&C, a locally owned coffee shop and bakery combo, during my lunch break, a new buzz-worthy food truck opened. I kept waiting for the line to diminish but it had been weeks and the line, if anything, expanded.

  I walked to it now, time on my hands. I shoved my hands in the pockets of my jean jacket and let my eyes roam the city. Though I’ve lived in the heart of the city for four years, I’d never been able to appreciate it before now. I had a one-track mind, focusing on the next thing. A shift at the shooting range. An arm session in the gym. A due paper. I was the farthest thing from a city college girl.

  I walked to the end of the line spanning two blocks, my eyes wandering. I caught glimpses of couples on the street kissing, a group of girls with barely anything on, shaking their asses, clearly a little bit tipsy, a guitarist playing on the corner, his guitar case open accepting tips, young guys with their chests painted a deep green and white shouting, “Go Eagles!” My lips curved up in a smile, caught up in other people’s moments when a harsh voice sounded beside me. “Yo, little girl, move your pretty little ass, I’m hungry.”

  I whipped my head back to reveal a man standing too close, looming over me, impatience written across his face. I narrowed my eyes at him, but he wasn’t fazed, a slimy smirk spreading across his face. I turned back around and did exactly what he said. I stepped up, placed an order of two sandwiches. One loaded with peppers, cheese, and onions for Hector and one with just onions and cheese for me.

  Once I paid and took my sandwiches, I stepped to the side of the truck, leaning up against it, waiting for the guy who thought he could comment on my body and I wouldn’t have something to say about it. I never took my eyes off of him as he ordered a sandwich, already forgetting about me. Thankfully, he walked my way.

  “Yo,” I called out to him, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Move your pretty little ass, you’re blocking my view.”

  His head whipped around to the sound of my voice and he slunk toward me, his asshole energy potent in the air. He bit off a big piece of his already unwrapped sandwich, the grease dribbling from his chin.

  Gross.

  The closer he got to me, the more arrogance I could smell rolling off of him. He didn’t stop until his body brushed up against mine and I had to fight the urge to shudder. “I know just the thing to hush that mouth up,” he said, his eyes darting to my lips.

  I tilted my head to the side. “You know what’s more powerful than my lips?” I whispered, standing on the tips of my toes, my mouth parallel with the shell of his ear.

  “My hands.” I grabbed him by the balls and twisted with all of my arm strength. His eyes went wide, glossing over with tears, forgetting his precious sandwich. With my other hand, I covered his mouth before he could scream. His knees connected with the concrete beneath my feet.

  “My feet.” I ground the heel of my Vans into his groin until he laid flat on his back, my feet pinning him to the ground. I kicked him away when I noticed a trail of tears sliding down his cheeks. He rocked back and forth, groaning and cursing under his breath.

  I stepped over his writhing body, just barely holding back an eye roll. “A piece of advice: there’s as much power in being a woman as there is in being a man. Think about that the next time you want to catcall one.”

  With my head held high, I walked
back to the shooting range to wait for Hector.

  That familiar black car pulled into his normal parking spot moments later and I kicked off the building, the one thing my eyes starved for behind those tinted windows. I reached for the door, as a crunch sounded beneath my feet. I looked down seeing a crumpled piece of paper. Reaching down, I lifted the paper and unfolded it.

  It was a flier, a picture of a black woman outlining the piece of paper. The woman tilted her head back, gripping a microphone so tightly the veins in her hands bubbled. Her high cheekbones, hard jaw, and a long, narrow nose contrasted against her rich brown skin to create the image of a breathtakingly gorgeous woman. A hoop nose ring glinted on her face bringing the only light to the photo. The woman’s eyebrows scrunched together, worry lines spreading across her forehead. If pain could be something physical, it would be the look on her face.

  My eyes studied the piece of paper, something foreign taking up inside of my chest. My hands gripped the flier, my heart thudded hard against my chest. Something about this woman called to me. I couldn’t understand it but I knew I had to.

  My eyes roamed the rest of the flier seeing the name of a café located a few blocks away from the range. At the bottom, the woman’s name was written, identifying her as special guest, Aliyah Rae. The date was set for Friday, tomorrow night. I folded the paper and stuffed it in my pocket.

  Opening the door, I immediately sought out Hector. My heart skipped a beat, seeing him. He sat behind the steering wheel, his legs spread, both of his hands tapping on the top of the steering wheel to the beat of the Spanish music playing quietly in the background. He was too goddamn sexy for his own good. Climbing up into my seat, ignoring how the sight of him made me forget about how most men were complete animals, I said, “I got you a sandwich. Every pepper they had in stock is on it.”

  His lips tilted up into a smile as he pulled the car from the curb.