The Cupid Touch

The Cupid Touch Chapter 26 - The Smallest of Betrayals

It was not a good journey. Joe was all but silent, clearly going over and over things in his mind and not finding any particularly nice conclusions. I went through about five cycles of doubt, convincing myself that I had been wrong about it being Rita, and then that I'd misunderstood somehow. But the truth of my fear was still there in the jittery feeling that was running through me, and I was dreading having the danger I'd been in confirmed too.

In the end, at the point where we'd crossed the bridge into Chelsea, I made a disgusted noise at myself, and inwardly told myself to stop it. Joe focused on me, and reached out with his right hand to squeeze my leg.

"We'll sort this out," he said, and gave me a half-smile. "It's my mess, not yours."

"It's our mess," I said, firmly, and grabbed his hand. "Joint custody of the mess."

"Dammit, does that mean I only get the mess every other weekend?"

"Yeah, but you can meet it from school half the week."

He nodded. "OK. I can deal with that as long as I can take it to practice and get it a shirt with my name on. Our mess, then." And he kissed my hand at the same moment I caught sight of a tall figure with piled-up hair exiting a car up ahead.

"Slow up," I said, urgently, and Joe did better than that by pulling the car off the road and into the entrance to a run-down parking lot that edged by bent wire fencing.

"So that was Rita," he said, with a slight crack to his voice. I felt sorry for him. He hadn't wanted it to be her. I could understand him wishing I'd been wrong.

"Yeah, it was," I said. "Guess they gave her a ride home."

He found a space in the far corner of the parking lot, and we both got out. Joe looked at me like he was going to make me stay, and then decided to keep quiet. Which was wise, given how angry all the adrenalin was making me feel right then.

I followed him back towards the street, and he did a surprisingly good job of walking casually out onto the sidewalk with his cell-phone out, letting him keep his head down whilst he glanced up under his still-damp hair.

I waited for him to nod before going to join him. The car was gone, and the sidewalk outside the restaurant we had visited - what, a few days ago? Or years and years ago? I wasn't sure - was empty. I was glad of the way he pulled me firmly towards him and kept his arm there as we walked the few yards to the restaurant. It helped me keep myself together.

"You don't want to go and talk to her first, do you?" I asked, as we drew nearer.

Joe frowned. "Why would I want to do that?"

"I just figure... it's easier on her."

He thought it through momentarily before shaking his head.

"I'm not going in there without showing her that I'm with you, even if that does make it harder on her. Whatever she's done, it wasn't a good thing, and it could have pretty easily have gotten you hurt. I think she's given away her rights to the baby treatment, don't you?"

And then we were inside the busy restaurant, before I could reply.

Rita was the near side of the bar, adjusting her hair while she talked to her father, her long back to us. I saw Alfredo's face when he saw us, and it was half defiant, half guilty. He knew what Rita had been doing.

"Joseph," he said, and glanced at me. "I'm - glad to see you. I think we need to talk."

Rita was pale as she turned around. I couldn't help feeling sorry for her. Really, actively sorry. She looked close to crying, and she tried her hardest not to look at me.