Trouble

“Hey.”

I blinked, completely unamused at the man standing in front of me. I still hadn’t decided exactly what to do with him and the move he made more than a week previously, and I’d figured he’d stay away until I sent for him.

But apparently, that wasn’t the case.

“This isn’t a good time,” I told him seriously. “I’m just about to leave.”

“Then why don’t I watch Claudia and Marisol? And then we can talk when you get back.”

That sounded like the world’s worst idea, actually. I didn’t know Liam well enough to leave two young girls with him, and of all the possible girls, I definitely wasn’t going to leave my baby sisters in his care.

“Liam!” Marisol squealed from the hallway. “Are you staying?!”

He gave me a small smirk as he brushed by me to pull Marisol into a hug, picking her up and propping her on his hip. “I’ll stay if Soledad lets me.”

“SOL,” the little girl screeched, sticking out her bottom lip. “Pleeeeeeease, can Liam stay? I want to play Monopoly!”

I looked between the two of them and sighed. I had to learn to start trusting people at some point, I knew, even if it wasn’t in my nature. And Liam had proven to be before that he was good with the girls.

My stomach knotted together, the acid churning violently, as I realized that people don’t put their real self forward when someone else was supervising.

“No, Liam’s not staying, but he can come back later. Esperanza’s going to watch you while I go out.”

Liam gave me a questioning look, which I completely ignored. I wanted to think the best of him, but my conscience wouldn’t let me. There was absolutely no way I could take unnecessary risks with the people I loved most in the world. If things turned out poorly, I would have no one to blame but myself.

“But Esperanza just sits in her room and reads dumb magazines,” Marisol pouted. “Me and Claudia want Liam.”

“Claudia and I,” I corrected, knowing very well that Marisol already knew the grammar rule. “And you guys will be fine with Esperanza for a few hours. Liam will visit you another time when I can stay.”

“You just want him all for yourself,” Marisol huffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest, her eyes brimming with heated tears. “HOG.”

And with that, she stormed down the hallway, grumbling and muttering loudly before slamming her bedroom door shut behind her.

“I think she has a crush on you,” I commented blandly before shouting to the house, “I’m leaving now! GOODBYE.”

No one answered, which I sort of expected. Marisol was probably venting to Claudia, who would just sigh and roll her eyes in response, while Esperanza just had her nose in some kind of gossip or fashion magazine.

Liam kept his mouth shut as he followed me out to the street, watching me close the door securely behind me. It wasn’t until we’d reached the street that he finally voiced what was on his mind.

“How could you do that to her?” he accused, gesturing toward the house behind us. “She was clearly excited to see me, and you just ripped it out from under her feet.”

“I told you,” I reiterated, stuffing my hands in the pockets of my jeans, “I’m really picky about who can be around my sisters. And you haven’t earned my trust yet, so you’re not allowed to be around them without me present.”

He narrowed his eyes at me for a second, probably trying to analyze me, before his expression softened. “Sol, is there something you want to tell me?”

Memories came rushing to the surface that I immediately pushed back down. “No, Liam. Now stop snooping.”

He was quiet for a second before he nodded at my arm. The fucking thing still hurt like a bitch, but I had taken to popping aspirin like Tic Tacs, and that helped somewhat. At least for a little while. Although, sleeping was still really rough, as rolling on it, even if I was in deep sleep, woke me up like someone poured ice water over my head. “Is your arm okay?”

“What about my arm?” I snuffed, trying not to give anything away. Lord knew he’d just worry about me, which I definitely didn’t want.

“It looks kind of…puffy.” He squinted to take a better look at it, and he got this really concerned expression. “You should probably get it checked out.”

“I don’t need it checked out.”

“You should. If your arm swells like that, it could mean you have a blood clot. That can kill you, you know. It happened to my mom a little while ago, and they said she was lucky to be alive.”

I shook my head. “I don’t have a blood clot.”

“How can you be so sure? Do you have some kind of medical degree I’m not aware of?”

“I don’t have a medical degree, and I don’t have a blood clot.”

“Then what’s wrong with it?”

“For God’s sake, Liam!” I snapped. “Why do you have to know everything? My arm’s fine. Don’t lose sleep over it.”

There was an awkward silence before Liam leaned over and poked my arm curiously. Right in the middle of the entry wound. A spasm of pain shot up my arm, and I lost all sense of rational thought, anger taking over where sense should have been.

“FUCKING…FUCK.” I spewed, reaching over without thinking and punching Liam in the shoulder as hard as I could. He winced for a second, but I didn’t feel any remorse toward him. There was no way my hit had hurt nearly as much as his asinine poke. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Did you just call me a ‘fucking fuck’? That’s the best you can come up with?” he teased, pasting on a fake smile.

“Shut up.”

“So what happened to your arm? And you can tell me the truth, or I’ll just go find Alejandro and have him tell me.”

I noted that he was no longer saying Alejo, and I felt a small pang. So maybe I’d been a little rude to tell Liam to stop being friendly with mi mejor amigo, but whatever. Too late now. “I got shot,” I stated plainly.

And, just as I’d anticipated, Liam started to freak out. His eyes widened to saucers, his forehead broke out in a sweat, and he panted in my face like some kind of demented dog. “Oh my fucking God, Soledad. Why the hell are you playing this off like it’s nothing?! Did you go to the hospital? Did you get stitches? Are you making sure that you clean it so it doesn’t get infected? How could this have happened?”

I cut him off with an irritated sigh. “Okay, mamá, I’m playing it off like nothing because it is nothing. People get shot all the time. No, I didn’t go to the hospital. Alejo dug out the bullet and cleaned everything up, and he gave me stitches. I’m not a dumbass, so yeah, I’m cleaning it with alcohol every night before I go to bed, and it happened while I was dealing yesterday. It’s not a big deal, so stop acting like it is.”

“Soledad, you got shot. Don’t shrug it off like that. You had a bullet pierce through your skin and…Alejandro just dug it out?! Did you have any anesthesia or something?”

It took all the willpower I had in my body to keep from smacking him upside the head. “Why the fuck would Alejo have anesthesia in his house? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

Liam flushed at my declaration, a silent agreement. “Well, I guess I couldn’t rule it out. But I guess that means that you’re a lot tougher than I thought you were.”

“Then stop underestimating me,” I demanded coolly. “Now walk away. I’m getting close to my station, and I’m not having you find out this one, too.” I knew that he was already familiar with the area, since it was where we had met, but he definitely didn’t have to know that.

Liam’s eyes still lingered on me, looking entirely worried, before sighing. “Alright. I guess I’ll come over tomorrow to see the girls. Does that work for you?”

“If you insist,” was the only thing I could bring myself to say.

“And we should probably talk about the kiss,” he added. “Unless you want to get that over with now.”

I shook my head. “I don’t have time. We can talk about it later, if you want.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow, Sol. Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I don’t think things could get much worse,” I responded pessimistically, my sorry attempt at a joke.

“Sure it could. You could be dead.”

I gave him a shocked look, figuring he didn’t have it in him to suggest such a morbid thing to apply to me, but his back was already turned, and he was making his way in the opposite direction.

Instead of calling after him, I just pulled out a cigarette and lit up, taking a long drag, hoping it would take my mind off the continuous throbbing in my arm.