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Even without the oppressive sun beating down, the evening summer air of Laredo, Texas weighed down its inhabitants like an anchor on a ship. The line to the Pequeña Fiesta was longer than it normally was on a Saturday night, even with the live music filtering out of the blacked out doors. A diverse crowd of people chatted in the line, and one such person turned to her friends, laughing about something the other said. The three in their group were dressed up in varying different styles, the youngest of the three dressed in whatever was fashionable these days. The oldest and most wrinkled of the three wore something resembling Texan Mom Chic. The third, middle child of the gang and the one who had laughed, wore the smallest, shortest dress she owned in hopes that she could end up like her two best friends. Married. Or, better yet, laid.
When they finally got into the club, bathed in the neon blue and red mixing into purple lighting, they let out a bit of a shout of excitement into the loud music. The music was dark and almost entrancing, the deep bass of the performer’s voice sending shivers down where they’d not felt shivers in a while.
“God, I could fuck a man with a voice like that,” the eldest woman said loudly. The other women laughed with her before they headed to the bar. The middle pulled away from the group, citing the urge to dance. So, she slipped out onto the floor with the other writhing bodies, joining in like she was made for it. Her thick black hair fell down in curls to the middle of her back, shaking and waving with every movement she made. She wasn’t sure how long she was out there, but she felt a drink pressed into her hand. Her friends joined her, bringing her usual drink. Her dance movements got easier with each cocktail she consumed. Her body moved more fluidly when she took another tequila shot, and her mind went fuzzy with each slam of the shot glass.
She didn’t know where he came from, but he was older than her, maybe by a few years. Somewhere in his mid-40s while she was turning 37 next month. He was handsome, except for the scars turned black like ash in the low light. As he got closer, the scars seemed to disappear, turning silver and white as he stepped into the light. His beard covered most of them, though.
“Wanna dance?” He asked over the loud music, and the woman nodded.
“Sure! What’s your name?”
“What’s your name?” He returns, grinning widely and taking her small hand in his. It felt like an electric current through them, and the woman approached him, incapable of listening to her conscience. He’s dangerous.
“Xiomara Espina,” she replied. “Your turn.”
He pulled her out to the dance floor, dancing with her and pressing himself against her soft body. She responded in kind, enjoying the sensuality of dancing with him. His hands crawled along her waist and down to her hips where he helped her move with him. Though, they didn’t need much assistance.
“Stuart Marshall. But call me Stu.”
“Stu,” she repeated, quiet.
They danced for the rest of the night, and when her friends told her they were ready to leave, she waved them on. She stayed with Stu, dancing on that floor with him until the musician started wrapping it up. His hands lingered on her soft body, and she continued to assault her poor body with ungodly amounts of liquor right alongside her partner.
“Let’s Uber back to your place,” he breathed against her ear, and she didn’t fight him on that idea, excited at the way his hands seemed to worship her. He hoisted her up in his arms, and she laughed and screeched, not fighting nearly enough as she should have been. He swats her ass, carrying her outside while he orders an Uber for them. He sat her down so she could type out her address, and she doesn’t see his eyes linger on the words she types.
In the Uber, they’re quiet, Stu staring at Xiomara before looking out the window. She slid her hand along the fabric of his pants over his thigh. He sucked in a breath and turned back to her like she wanted. They kissed before they even made it to her door, hands frantic and moving across every inch of body they could touch. He hoisted her up in his arms, unable to stop himself from holding her.
The door slammed behind them as he walked her back into her house and up the stairs to her bedroom, dimly lit by soft purple LEDs. Various art adorned the walls, and he observed the beauty of the room before pushing her back against the quilted, lilac comforter.
She laughed as he descended on her, mouth hungry for the taste of her. He was rough, but Xiomara took it in stride, clinging to him as he held her like their lives depended on it. Wails of pleasure escaped the house, and a few lights in the neighborhood clicked on at the sounds. They quickly went back to bed, not wanting to bother with Xiomara and the men she brought home. She was trouble.
She woke up alone in her bed, bra tossed over to the left of her and make-up running down her cheeks from the sweat and exertion. She sat up and looked around, smiling at the note on her nightstand.
‘Had to head to work. Had an amazing time last night. Here’s my number if you ever want to dance again. (XXX) XXX-XXXX. — Stu’
She stood and went to shower the night’s exertions off of her. She called her friends, and she gushed about how amazing the sex was. They did the things that friends always did when a new man entered the sphere. They warned her about stranger danger, but she paid them no mind.
Three days passed before she felt comfortable enough to call him and arrange a date. Three days later, he was supposed to pick her up. But thirty minutes before he was supposed to arrive, her phone rang. UNKNOWN CALLER
“Hello?”
“Hello.” She didn’t recognize the voice, low and throaty.
“Yes?”
“Who is this?”
“Who is this?”
“You tell me your name, I'll tell you mine.”
She laughed, nervousness creeping in her bones. “No way.”
“What are you doing tonight?”
“I’m going to see a movie with my boyfriend,” she breathed, hoping the mix of truth and lie made her sound believable.
“Really? What?”
“Just…some scary movie, probably.”
Silence.
It dragged on for what felt like hours.
“Do you like scary movies?”