No kidding, standing guard.
I looked around, tried to find the bartender who gave me the note but he was nowhere to be seen.
Indy disappeared then for some reason Diva Drag Queen of the Evening, Burgundy Rose came out (Indy at her side), walked right up to me and pulled me into a deep hug.
I stood there rigid with shock at this new unexpected turn of events but she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, after she was done hugging me, she gave me a huge, loud kiss on the cheek then leaned back and started swiping at the lipstick with her thumb.
“I’m Tod,” she said in a male voice, still swiping my cheek with her thumb.
“Hi Tod,” I said without anything else to say like “What in the heck are you doing?” or an Ice Princess “How dare you touch me?”
“I’m a Rock Chick by default,” Burgundy Rose/Tod said.
“Oh,” I replied, sounding stupid. Well, that explained it.
“I’m Indy’s neighbor,” he went on and stopped swiping my cheek. Thankfully, it was my good cheek, but still.
“Okay.” I still didn’t know what to say.
“What size shoe are you?” he asked, apropos of nothing.
I stared at him then thought it best to answer. “Six and a half.”
“Damn,” he muttered, “I could work those boots.” I kept staring and he kept explaining, giving a flick of his hand to the Rock Chicks. “All the girls share shoes; we’re all the same size.”
“Oh,” I repeated, a little stunned that he might want to borrow my boots. Not that I minded, of course, just that I’d never had a girlfriend (or a gay boyfriend for that matter) who wanted to borrow my boots.
For some reason, the idea of him wanting to borrow my boots made the weird cold I’d felt since Harvey got hold of me melt clean away.
“Oh well, I can admire them from afar. Not like I haven’t had tons of experience with that,” Tod shared then his head snapped around toward the stage and he muttered, “Shit, gotta go, song’s about over.” He gave me another cheek kiss, another thumb swipe at the lipstick he planted there and then he was off.
I stared at his beaded-gowned back.
Now, seriously, how bizarre was that?
I was still staring when Hector and Lee appeared.
I hadn’t yet recovered from my encounter with the Drag Queen when Hector took my hand in his, firmly in his, and without a word to me or anyone, he walked me out the front door through the parking lot, straight to his Bronco.
I didn’t struggle. My night was way too weird to struggle. I didn’t have it in me. I was just going to let the rest of my night ride out to its conclusion. I figured that was best.
Veronica Mars would have a wisecrack to deliver but I hadn’t yet made it to the Wisecracking Sadie version of my new self. I couldn’t even order shots competently. I was in no position to offer a smart-mouthed remark.
He stopped me at the side of his Bronco with a tug on my hand and then got close. I did a quick scan of the parking lot but there was no sign of Eddie or Harvey.
“Where’s Harvey?” I asked, looking anywhere but at Hector.
“Mamita, look at me.”
I kept avoiding his eyes and started to say, “I should probably –”
When he spoke again, his voice was edging away from gentle. “Sadie, goddamn it, look at me.”
I looked at him. He lifted the hand he still held, got closer and pressed our clasped hands against the heat of his hard chest, mine on the inside.
Oh my.
“You want your friends with you, okay, but right now, we’re goin’ to the Station and you’re gonna press charges against Ricky and Harvey Balducci.”
Oh no I was not.
I tried to step back but Hector’s hand tightened. It didn’t hurt but it sent a message, a message I read and listened to for reasons completely unknown or maybe reasons I didn’t want to know.
“Marty and Donny Balducci won’t get near you, you have my word on that,” Hector went on.
Without a way to retreat, I just shook my head. Hector’s other arm slid along my waist and he brought me closer to his body. So close our bodies were grazing from hips to waist to belly.
My entire mind focused on the body grazing.
“Sadie, I’m askin’ you to be smart.”
“I am being smart,” I replied, still thinking about nothing but his body and my body and his body grazing my body.
“Tell me what’s in your head,” he encouraged softly.
What was in my head was that I was still thinking about his body touching my body, how I liked it and I feared it, both of those feelings swirled and agitated and were making me a crazy mixture of scared, confused and excited.
“I need you to let me go,” I whispered, mind getting muddled with panic, my eyes on his throat.
“Sorry?” he asked.
I tilted my head back to look at him. “Please,” I said so softly even I could barely hear it. “Let me go.”