“Like I said. Dumb fuck,” Cordell put in.
“Fuck you!” Jerry shouted in Cordell’ face.
“Blow me,” Cordell returned.
Oh my.
This wasn’t going well for Jerry but also (more importantly) I had no idea what it meant for me.
Then everything happened at once.
Jerry charged Cordell, I could tell it was not to fight him but so he could get by him and get to me.
I came unstuck and ran to the door, got my hand on the knob but it flew open when I did. I wheeled backwards, lost balance and landed on my behind.
Marcus and African-American Hottie were in the room, guns up and shouting.
Cordell and Glover twirled, pulled out their guns and started shouting back.
Jerry jumped across the bed, toward me.
I got on my feet, twisted, grabbed the first thing I could find, which was a lamp, and twisted back to see he was nearly on me.
“Stop!” Marcus yelled but Jerry didn’t stop.
I swung the lamp just as a shot was fired. I hit Jerry in the shoulder with the lamp and he went down but his hands went to his thigh where blood was coming from a bullet wound.
“Stay down,” Marcus ordered, advancing, gun on Jerry as African-American Hottie was still in an armed faceoff with Cordell and Glover.
I stood, clutching the lamp and breathing like I’d run a race.
“Sadie, you okay?” Marcus asked.
I slammed the lamp down and then put my hands back to my hips.
“No. I. Am. Not. I’m sick of being kidnapped. Hector’s probably out of his mind!” I screeched.
Marcus kept his eyes and gun on Jerry but I could swear his lips twitched like he was fighting a grin.
Now, really, seriously, by all that was holy, somebody, please tell me, what on earth was funny about this?
I looked at African-American Hottie and he looked like he was amused too.
“What’s fucking funny?” I shouted.
“Maybe you should sit down, love,” Marcus suggested.
“I don’t want to sit down. I want coffee. And brioche with marmalade,” I snapped back then I looked back at African-American Hottie and realized he was still in an armed faceoff and I should probably do something about that. “Um… African-American Hottie?” I called. “They’re good. They’re with me.”
Cordell, who was also African-American, had his eyes locked on African-American Hottie and he asked, “Is she talkin’ to you or me?”
“I’ve no fuckin’ clue,” African-American Hottie replied.
“I know your name, Cordell. Blooming heck, I’ve known you for years. I’m talking to the other African-American Hottie in the room,” I explained.
Marcus (I’m not joking) started laughing.
Laughing!
“My name is Darius,” African-American Hottie said.
Without anything else to say (and not wanting to be rude), I replied, “Hi, Darius.” Then I waved for good measure.
“Who are you?” I heard said from below me and I looked down to see Jerry staring up at me like he’d never seen me before.
And that’s when I knew.
I knew exactly who I was.
So, because I knew, I told Jerry, “I’m Sadie.”
* * * * *
The police arrived then the hotel management and security arrived. I redid my belt, put on my shoes and I was sitting in the hotel room desk chair, handcuffs finally off, just about to put a cup of coffee to my lips when Hector, Eddie and Lee arrived.
Hector stopped just inside the door, his eyes scanned the room, found me, did a head-to-toe, then they moved to Jerry now on the bed with hotel towels wrapped around his leg and a uniformed officer guarding him.
Hector didn’t order everyone out and he didn’t move. His body was solid and his eyes were scorching and that scorch was directed at Jerry.
Then I saw his jaw clench and a muscle move in his cheek.
Oh my.
I put my coffee cup in its saucer on the desk and moved swiftly across the room toward Hector.
I got within touching distance, Hector’s hands came to my hips but he didn’t look at me, his dark, angry eyes were locked on Jerry.
“I’m gonna fuckin’ –” he started but I pressed into him and put my hand over his mouth and muffled the rest.
“The police,” I warned but his hand came from my hip, his fingers curled around my wrist and he pulled it away. Before he could speak, quickly I said, “I’m all right, I’m fine. Everything’s okay.”
His scorching eyes turned to me.
My free hand went to the side of his face.
“Babe, I’m okay,” I whispered.
He looked at me for a second then two then three, his eyes scanning my face, reading me.
I got up on my toes and pressed even closer to his heat.
“Hector, baby, I’m okay,” I repeated softly.