ESTEBAN
“No!” she screams, her arms outstretched in front of her as her nightmare takes a terrifying hold of her.
“Aurora!” I shake her. “Wake up. It’s just a dream.”
Her eyes fling open and she looks around wildly. Sweat beads her brow and upper lip, and she wipes at them furiously. “Where am I?”
“We’re in Michoacán, remember?”
She blinks, then nods as the haze of sleep seems to lift. “I was dreaming.”
“You were. It sounded like a nightmare.”
Screwing her eyes shut, she rubs them with her thumb and forefinger. “I always have them.”
Yes, I remember very well what she said about her inability to sleep because of the nightmares. I also remember how she used her medication to treat it against me. But I don’t mention that now.
“Would you like some water?” I offer.
She sighs as she lifts herself slightly and sags against the wooden headboard. “Yes, please.”
I move to stand, but the piercing pain in my shoulder stops me.
Aurora’s head snaps toward me. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I try again to stand, but she grabs hold of my arm, making me groan.
Instantly, she’s sitting up. “That’s not nothing. Let me see.”
“I’m all right,” I insist, attempting to pry her fingers from me.
“The hell you are.” She swats my hand away from my shoulder and winces when she sees the source of my pain. “Pinche pende...” Biting her lower lip, she stops herself from further insult. “This is bad.”
I glance at the bruised and swollen area. “It’s not that bad.”
“It’s very bad. Let me…” She slaps at me again when I try to cover it. “I need to see if you’ve dislocated it again.”
The very idea of going through that again has my stomach turning. “Please tell me you don’t have to reset it.”
She gently probes the skin and shakes her head. “I don’t think so. But we have to get ice on it and stabilize it before you end up in the hospital.”
“I already told you, it’s not safe to leave the room.”
Huffing, she gets off the bed and goes to stand by a small writing desk near the bathroom door. Lifting the phone handle, she dials reception. “Hi, yes, this is room 26. Could I please request an ice pack and ibuprofen?” She listens for a second, then replies, “That’s fine. I’ll take that.”
Five minutes later, there’s a knock on the door. I take my gun off the nightstand and peek through the peephole to see a woman dressed in a pink uniform on the other side. I nod for Aurora to open the door.
The woman spots the weapon in my hand but smiles politely and hands her a bag full of ice and four orange pills.
“Gracias,” Aurora says, shutting and locking the door behind her. When she turns to me, her lips are pulled tight. “You just look more suspicious doing that sort of thing, you know.”
“Everyone around here has a gun.”
“Sit,” she orders.
I go to the edge of the bed and do as she says when she hands me the medicine and a glass of water, telling me to take them. “What were they?”
“I’m not sure. Some sort of pain relievers.” She glances at me when I smirk. “This is all they had.” Wrapping the bag of ice in a thin towel, she lays it on my shoulder, holding it in place. “You called me a stupid girl. Well, now who’s the fool? This is what you get for trying to dominate me.”
“What?” I peer at her in disbelief of her grumblings. “You’re the one who broke me.”
“You broke yourself,” she retorts, then mumbles something under her breath I can’t make out, but it still offends me.
“I told you to stop me.”
“Yeah, as you fingered me.” She rolls her eyes. “I couldn’t have stopped you if I’d wanted to.”
“So that means you didn’t want to.”
She pauses in her ministrations. “It can’t happen again.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t want you the way I do. Not with what you’ve done.”
“What I’ve done? What about what you’ve done? You don’t get to play the victim here, Aurora. In this story, we’re both the villain.”
She remains quiet for a moment. “You’re right. You killed Raul and I can’t stop wanting you. There’s no word terrible enough for what I am.”
I let that sink in, let the words settle over me in the warmth I’ve been desperate for since everything blew up. “And I can’t stop wanting you, even though you tried to kill me,” I whisper, peering up at her. “What does that make me?”
“Stupid,” she replies, a sad chuckle bursting from her. “So stupid.”
My gaze drops to her lips, her graceful neck and rest on the pulsing vein of her throat. “The nightmare you just had, was that about Raulino?”
“Yes.”
“What was it?”
“It’s always the same thing. I see the car on fire. I run to it but can never get there in time to save him. Only, this time….” She swallows hard as she lets out a long breath. “You were there.”
Wetness streaks over the spot I’ve been staring at, and I realize it’s a tear that’s rolled down her cheek. I want to look at her, but I can’t right now, so I keep my eyes on that steady pulse.
“Tell me how it happened,” she whispers. “Did he suffer? Tell me how it really happened so that I can stop living the worst scenario I can come up with in my nightmares.”
Now I do look at her, unable to believe what she’s asking of me. But the despair in her tone to know the truth doesn’t hold the anger I would have expected. Instead, there’s a desperate need to end some sort of torture she’s been living since he died. Tears begin to flow freely down her cheeks as she blinks them away, and she chews on her lower lip anxiously.
I don’t want to tell her what happened. I don’t want to tell her of the rage that overtook me and what I allowed myself to become as I ended his life.
“Please,” she begs in a small voice.
“He—” I’m saved by the buzzing of my phone on the desk. Quickly, I stand, leaving her staring after me as I answer it. “Falcon.”
“We were attacked. Felix is dead,” Rodrigo informs me hurriedly.
Every muscle in my body tenses at the news. “Where are you?”
“On my way to you. We must leave, Esteban. The area has been compromised.”
“Fuck! Could you tell who it was?” I question. “Was it Villegas’men?”
“I didn’t get a good—” He groans as if he’s struggling to speak. “I couldn’t see them. If they catch up to me, I will.”
“You’re being followed?” I demand.