Chapter 7: Chapter 7

We walked out the door with many of the patrons who had decided to call it a night. Our direction was to head towards the Plaza which was two blocks away. The ladies joked along the way and spoke about the guys they had met. I tried to listen attentively, but my thoughts were elsewhere for Diego and Sara were walking behind us. Soft voices could only be heard and even if I tried to listen it wouldn't have done any good. Zulema and Melba's voices were loud to block their conversation. Once we arrived we stopped for a bit to wait for Sara to join the group. Diego was not far behind. A moment of silence crept within us. It was I who dared to speak up. “So, who is going with me.” Sara began to speak. "I think..." But then was cut short. "Whose vehicle is the farthest from here?" "That would be us," Melba said to him. "Then I would walk you guys back." This time Diego came by my side close enough to have both our arms touch. The ladies looked at me for a second. Sara just looked away and walked towards Patty. "Let's go, Patty," She said pulling at her. I looked at Melba and I don't know what came over her. "Wait ladies, Patty and I are going with you." "What? Why? It was Diego who answered. “Ladies I’ll make sure Fio gets to her vehicle and gets home safely, this allows me to spend more time getting to know her a bit more. Plus lets her get a bit sober before she gets behind the wheel.” He said to them authoritatively. What the fuck? Who the hell did he think he was? I turned to look at him and then something about him that I hadn't seen before caught my eye. I just couldn't describe it. I was mesmerized, hopeful, or stupid. I looked at my friends, but mostly at Melba and Zulema who had come along with me. Everyone looked at me except for Sara. They were waiting for me to say something. Did I want to be with this guy? I mean sure he was hot but I didn't know who he was or what he was about. Oh, God Fiorella, he is asking to stay with you and you are blowing it. I thought to myself. I looked at my friends again and could tell that Sara was getting pissed just standing there so I said. “It’s okay we’ll see each other tomorrow night at the dance” "Wait what dance?" I questioned. "I will tell you tomorrow, sorry today later. Have a great night.” Melba smirked as she said those words. “Don't forget to call me when you get home, that's if I can hear the phone" She said as she started to walk away. I looked towards the group and noticed as they walked away. Zulema turned and waved goodbye. Call, I placed my hand on my skirt to see if my phone was in my pocket. I didn't move. I began to think that having him walk me to the truck was not such a great idea. I was rooted, I didn’t want to move. I knew my beer had given me the bravado, but it had finally dissipated and thoughts came crashing in my head and my self-esteem took a dive as a turtle takes shelter in its shell. I turned around and began to walk through the Plaza a little bit too fast, I knew I needed to escape, but luck wasn't with me wouldn’t let it be. I felt his firm grip around my wrist through his touch I could feel my temperature change within me. My heart fluttered, fast-paced, and heat arose within me. I could feel the electricity coming from his hand racing through my veins making my composure fade. I held tight though, feeling the need to escape, pushing away at the poles that magnetized me to him. His hand around my wrist, I turned around to face him thinking that this was the safest thing to do. I mustered the courage to speak. “Thank you, Diego, but I can see myself back to my truck.” I saw a strange look within him and his voice turning stern. “It’s late and deserted and all the drunks are out. Do you think I am going to leave you alone, especially after I told your friends that I would take you safely to your vehicle!” I felt the boldness coming from his tone and froze me for a while until caught up on his words then it hit me. I wasn't thinking of my safety, but more of escape. Safe, he said it wasn't safe. Echoed through my brain. I knew I couldn’t go out there on my own and somehow he knew I would consider it or at least he thought. I looked around, saw people lingered from the bar but were slowly fading away through the night. I would soon be out of range of people. Turning myself again to face him. His handsome face had a smug look a look in which I knew he had made me something to think about. I didn't acknowledge how I hated the way he looked at that moment, but I knew somehow I would be safe with him around. “I guess you are right, but….” I managed to say. Then his hand moved from my wrist towards my hand and entwining my hand with his. It felt strange to have someone hold my hand, especially someone I had just met a couple of hours earlier. I never had a boyfriend and I never had a man grab my hand was this like going steady? Honestly, it wasn't me so I began to pull my hand away from his. His remark stopped me from pulling. “I’d like to hold your hand if you don’t mind.” “Why?” I asked in an unbelievable tone. “I don’t want you to run off and get lost.” “I don’t think I’d get lost I am a native, you are the reporter, or don’t you remember.” I didn't bother to look up to see his expression, but somehow I could feel as if eyes were on me. I don’t know what he saw but I imagined seeing a wide eye deer headlights coming directly towards it at least that's how it felt. I felt the tug of my hand as he walked I followed him as he guided me towards the plaza. I looked around at how deserted the area was when hours ago it was full of people and vehicles everywhere then I looked towards the first moment I had seen him, and realized the van he occupied was no longer there. Curiosity got me and I had to ask. “Where are you staying?” I asked. He looked down at me. “Marriot,” he said. “Just asking but how are you getting back. It is a long way from here”. No words were spoken from him for a moment until he asked. “So where is your truck Fio?” he asked. I looked around and realized I didn't know what the street was called but knew exactly how to get there. “Ah, I don’t know the street, but I know the way.” I answered. He then ignored that whole conversation and began to say my name. “Fio? Fio! Is that a nickname,” he asked me thoughtfully. I inhaled deeply. “My real name is Fiorella (Fi-o-re-ll-a) breaking my name apart. Sounds like Cinderella towards the end. He laughed quietly. “Fio◦Rella” he kept telling himself . Then he said something I hadn't thought he knew. "It means flower in English" It took me by surprise "Yes it does" I knew people who were of non-Latin origin would have trouble with my name but he seemed to pronounce it. Then I wondered whether he was a descendant of Latinos as well but figured since Latinos were practically in every part of the country Spanish language seems to be second to English. “What’s your last name?” he asked me. “Pena” Answering his question. “What about you?” trying to keep the conversation going, maybe having him walk me wasn't going to be that bad. “Boltarez,” he said firmly. I looked again at his skin tone and the way he spoke. “Where are you from?” curious now “Iowa” “With a last name like that?” saying it out loud. “My mother is from Spain and my father well his actually from Iowa. He met my mother when he was doing reporting abroad and well you know girl meets boy and all that. My last name is Smith, but since I lived most of my life in Spain. I took her last name as my own. I didn’t like Smith. It was too ordinary. “I liked the name Diego Boltarez, I felt it went better with the name.” “Of course you could probably imagine my father’s reaction when his only son came to the United States to see him for what eighteen years and did not have his last name.” Okay he was a talker that much I could tell. I remained quiet trying to analyze this Diego Boltarez. He stopped talking and stopped. I looked about and then at him. He looked down at me. “You don’t talk much without a beer in your system?” he stated. Thinking to myself this time what the fuck does this guy think he is and did I have to hear the rundown of his whole life in one simple conversation. It pissed me off and this time I was going to let him know. My tone changed to my teacher's voice “Are you asking me or telling me, Mr. Boltarez?” I snapped. Looking down at me “You are feisty Fiorella.” “Let’s just see how feisty you can be.” I looked not knowing what he was talking about. He was the one who was getting me pissed. As we were going straight, he looked back and then turned the corner. I knew this was not the way we were supposed to go, but I wasn’t paying much attention I allowed him to lead me. The next thing I knew we were entering a restricted section. It was marked around with yellow tape. Everywhere I looked there were buildings with shattered windows, open doors, and bullet holes to mark the drug war spillover. I hadn’t realized we had traveled into this area until I noticed the surroundings. I looked around I knew this was off-limits “We are not allowed here.” I said tugging at his hand. “I know,” he said quietly. He pulled at me and led me to an open door of a building and pushed me inside. My heart raced quickly, adrenaline shot through me thinking the worst. “What are we doing?” I questioned. I couldn't see anything in front of me as he led, then suddenly he turned to put a finger to my mouth to quiet me down. My thoughts went to the danger scenarios. Oh no, there is someone behind us, I don’t remember hearing anyone. We hadn’t traveled far from the door, then he turned to face me pushing at me till we got closer to the wall. He didn't allow me to hit it, he let go of my hand and with his left hand, he encircled my waist and for an unknown reason. I noticed him touching the wall. What the hell was he doing? Then he brought his hand to his pant pocket. I could barely see what he was trying to do. The only lighting we had was the street lights around the area. “Dam” I heard him say. “Give me your phone.” Thinking we were in trouble I obliged quickly and handed it to him. He checked the wall, placing his palm out to it and feeling for what I didn’t know. The only thing that came to mind was he looking for a light switch. I knew better not to ask questions or have someone hear us. If they did then I knew something bad would happen to us. My heart was racing, it’s not safe, I thought they said it was safe to come back but they had assured the people that the drug war had been pushed back to the other side of the border, but what if they were wrong. Oh God! what if the drug cartels were still in the area. I was about to speak when he grabbed my shoulders and pushed me toward him he proceeded to slip my phone back into my skirt pocket. Oh, No! We are in trouble he is assuring me that I have my phone on me if he wants me to escape. This is bad! He held me close to him. I wasn't feeling the pull as before with his hold, this time I was getting scared. The next thing that came next was unexpected. He grabbed my loose hair and pulled my face up towards him and lunged at my lips.