Ann Aguirre - Devil's Punch

Yeah, I’d learned to be closed, self-contained—and the irony of that? I’d gotten those tendencies from him. Now it felt oddly like he was an open book, and I had figured out how to hide the lines that revealed everything about me.

“I got good at being alone,” I said softly. In the old days, I’d have called him first thing instead of packing a bag on my own, ready to handle whatever came my way without asking for help.

“I know.” Awkward silence.

He needed me to make a move. So I added, “But I’m remembering how to be half of a couple. I thought we were doing all right.”

He’d promised to tell me about his dead ex. Maybe this road trip would be a good time for that. Since our return, we’d danced around the edges of intimacy, two steps forward, one step back, a particularly self-conscious waltz.

So far, Chance wasn’t rushing me. He didn’t push for sex or commitment. Emotionally, he was more accessible than he had been when we were together. From the vantage point of hindsight, I suspected he shouldn’t have been with me so soon after Lily died. I’d been a light against the loneliness, a body in the dark, and our jobs kept him from having to think or grieve or heal. But I hadn’t known about her. Or his loss.

If I’d had more experience with relationships, I’d have known something was wrong sooner. Before Chance, I had only hookups, nothing real. I hadn’t understood how it should be, and I’d so desperately wanted it to work, had needed him to love me, that I hadn’t seen the problems staring me in the face. I don’t think he loved me at all in the beginning; maybe he did in the end, or he realized how he felt too late, after I’d gone. Now, I wanted to believe in his feelings, but I feared them too. I had such a collection of scars carved on my heart, and many of them carried his initials.

For him to be willing to dodge out on a rescue mission at the drop of a hat, no questions asked? That boded well for our future together.

“Tia,” I called.

“Is Chance staying for dinner?” she yelled back in Spanish.

“No. Neither am I.” I went into the kitchen, and in a few words summarized where I was going and why.

She listened with no judgment, and then she shuffled into her bedroom. I was used to her ways, so I waited. When she returned, she had a charm bracelet in one hand. It was dull and tarnished, didn’t look special at all, but when she wrapped it around my wrist to fasten it, I felt the thrum of magick emanating from the trinket.

“It is the best charm I ever made,” she said softly. “Wear it well.”

“I can’t take this. You could sell it at the market—”

“Corine.” Her tone was dangerous, and though she came only to my shoulder, I knew not to cross her.

So I yielded gracefully, thanked and hugged her. Chance joined us with my things in his hand. In short order, he stowed my backpack in the El Camino parked in front while I prepped Butch for travel. Most dogs would be excited at the prospect of a road trip, but this Chihuahua was not a normal animal; he’d saved my life more than once with his warnings. He whined his misgivings at me, and he tried to tell Tia that this trip was a bad, bad idea, but she only laughed and scratched behind his ears. With a final whine, Butch settled in my purse, heaving a despondent doggy sigh. It was funny how well he could express his thoughts, even without Scrabble tiles. I had packed those too. Just in case. I had been astonished to learn he could use the letters to communicate with me when the matter was too crucial to trust simple yes/no questions.

“Let me cleanse you,” Tia said.

Though I’d had a cleansing the previous week, it was a good safety precaution, as I didn’t know how long I’d be gone. So I stood quiescent while she fetched her supplies: candles, a stout switch to lash me with, and of course, the eggs. She whispered the blessings as she rubbed the egg over my chakras. As usual, it took two to rid me of the bad luck Chance had deflected my way. His mouth twisted when he saw the darkness staining the center of the first one.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“It’s fine now that I know how to deal with it.”

Haunted eyes, tiger striated in rich shades of amber, watched me while Tia wrapped up the brief ritual. I could tell he was thinking that Lily might have lived if he’d known to tell her how to protect herself. It occurred to me then that he didn’t have much experience with relationships either; otherwise, he’d have known this already. In his way, he was as confused as I was. And that made a difference.

“ Ya termine ,” Tia said. “ Buena suerte, nena .” I’m done. Good luck, child .

We said our farewells quickly—no point in lingering. From my bag came a soft whimper, Butch making a last-ditch effort to persuade me to stay home.

But I couldn’t. The demons knew I cared about Shannon, so they’d taken her for leverage. Whatever horrors awaited me, she was suffering them already, and it made my skin feel too tight. But I couldn’t let myself go there. Too much imagination would paralyze me. The only way I could do Shannon any good was to contain my anxiety and focus on something else. I strode out to the car.

Chance didn’t like being a passenger, so I tossed him my keys. Instead of getting in, he asked, “Would you prefer to drive the first leg of the trip?”

It wasn’t a matter of whether I wanted to; it was the fact that he thought to ask. Once, he’d made decisions for me. He did what he thought was best for me, and kept information from me. His question showed me that he’d really changed. He saw me as stronger and more capable, someone who should have choices.

Smiling, I shook my head. “It’s fine. Just let me know if you get tired and we’ll switch. Do you have a bag in the car?”

In answer, he indicated the backpack behind the seat in the El Camino. “I guessed we’d be traveling. Just a change of clothes and protein bars, but with you, I’ve learned it pays to be prepared.”

“Clever man.”

The Mustang was nowhere in sight; he must’ve left it at his apartment. It would be safer there anyway. Tia had opted for a front garden instead of a garage, but nobody thought my El Camino was nice enough to steal. Looks could be deceiving.

I let Butch pee in the grass, and then I climbed into the car. It smelled faintly of the piña colada air freshener I’d bought, and the interior was pristine. I’d never owned a car before; I took care of this one.

It was almost dark when we took off, which meant heavy traffic as we came down the mountain. Chance had been here long enough that he wasn’t surprised by the way the periférico choked up, and he bitched like a native as we inched along, exhaust creeping in the windows. Since it was a cool night, it seemed wasteful to run the air conditioner. Buses clogged the right-hand lane, stopping every four feet.

In the evening, it looked magical here, even with the traffic. Mountains rose in the distance as we crept along. Lights sparkled from faraway houses; neon blurred into red and yellow lines from shops set along the highway. The sky above was gray, not black, so that even night felt mutable here, like shadows held no sway.

Once we passed what used to be the toreo —bullfighting ring, although it had been torn down a while ago—the traffic cleared somewhat, permitting him to drive faster. He drove like he’d learned in Italy, whipping in and out, throwing the car at spaces that seemed too small. Horns sounded in our wake, but he was smiling, and so was I.

Despite my worry over Shannon, it felt good to set out with him. This wasn’t a job he needed me for, and yet Chance was here beside me. He’d come to Texas because he wanted me. Missed me. Maybe even loved me. I entertained the possibility without suspicion whispering in my ear.