Another Taste of Chaos

I'm off to New Orleans for Saints and Sinners tomorrow, so I won't be blogging for a few days, but I'll leave you with this little taste of Chaos: My bedroom window had a view of the base of the stairs. I watched as Hector walked down the flight with a pensive expression, his steps heavy and slow. “So you’re to the door slamming phase with Sam.” I heard Angelena’s voice. I could have sworn she wasn’t there when I went up the stairs. Standing on my tiptoes, I saw Angelena and Hector on the tiny square of lawn outside her front door. Her tools spread over the sidewalk. She extended her hand to Hector. “Angelena, concerned onlooker.” Hector nodded up the stairs. “He does this a lot?” “Usually right after the intense sex cools off and the other guy starts talking relationship. Right Sweet-tart?” She looked up at the window. I ducked down. “He’s listening,” she told Hector. Bitch. She stretched with an exaggerated yawn and then scratched her scalp through her spiky black hair. “Sam’s kind of like a Moon Pie dipped in Tabasco sauce,isn’t he? You know he’s sweet as can be on the inside, but first you have to get past all that piss and vinegar.” “I don’t have the patience for these games,” Hector grumbled as he glanced up at my window. “Don’t let the angelic face and big blue eyes fool you. Sam was born under a kinky star. His horoscope sign is black leather and chains. Or do I mean rope?” She cupped her hand next to her face and stage whispered, “Hedidn’t lock his door.” Maybe she was joking. I was usually careful to throw the lock. “He’ll take away all your privacy,” a voice in my head warned me. “He’ll strip you bare and expose you to the world. He doesn’t understand how much you need to hide. Don’t let him hurt you.” A shiver of fear went down my spine. “But I want him,” I whispered. The need welled up inside me and pushed out, willing Hector to give me another chance. Angelena’s voice drifted through my screen window. “If I were you, Hector, I’d go up those stairs and tell Sam to knock that shit off. He needs to hear it.” Hector looked up at my window. Through the screen, our gazes met and we bolted for my door at the same time. For some reason, my bedroom door stuck in the frame. It had never done that before. The building must have settled, or the Gods meddled. I had to tug hard several times before the bedroom door popped open, which cost me precious seconds in a race I should have easily won. When the front door swung open, I slid to a halt.