Abel
If I ever questioned my love for Rose, I’d know, in this moment, that I was a fucking idiot.
?Me cache en die!
There’s nothing like wishing you could rescue the woman you love to really put your feelings in perspective. I’m holding the phone to my ear as I pull on clothes, grab a stack from the pile of money, and head out of the room toward the front office.
“Everything okay, officer?”
Rose’s voice comes through the phone and I place my hand over the mouth piece.
“Hey. Got a car I can borrow?” I ask the bored looking girl at the front desk, aware that I likely look fucking certifiable right now. My curls are everywhere, my shirt is wrinkled, and there’s a desperation in my voice that borders on frantic.
She takes one look at me and shakes her head. But I know money talks.
I shove my hands in my pocket and pull out a wad of cash, yanking five bills from the band. “Let’s try again. I have five hundred dollars here. If you let me use your car for an hour, you can keep it.”
Her eyes widen as she takes the cash I hold out in front of her. She grabs the purse she has hidden behind the desk, fishes through it, and tosses me a set of keys. “It’s the black Ford F-150 near the door.”
I’m out the door at the tail end of her sentence and I press the phone to my ear again, trying to hear Rose and the cop.
“I actually don’t have my license on me and this is my father’s car,” Rose explains and I groan at the sound of her weak explanation.
She’s losing the confidence in her words and I can’t get to her fast enough.
I can’t start the car fast enough. I can’t peel out of the parking lot and rev down the road fast enough.
I’m not enough.
I don’t know if I can save her this time.
“Please step out of the car, miss,” I hear a male voice say.
?Pu?eta! I slam my fist into the steering wheel as I speed down toward where I can only assume she headed.
I don’t hear anything for a moment, and then the officer asks her to step out again.
Do it. Dear God, do it , I think to myself. I’ve still got the phone pressed to my ear as I race toward my girl.
“?” she whispers just before I hear movement on the other side of the line. I hear a grunt and scuffling and I let out a garbled sound as I try to keep my head clear so I can make it there.
“Don’t fight. Don’t fight!” I yell as I press harder on the gas. The phone somehow disconnects, and I can only pray I’m heading in the right direction. The same direction we came from last night.
Fifteen minutes later, I see a cop car. The lights are still flashing, and the driver’s door of the Porsche is ajar. I hop out of the truck, not sure if I’m ready to see whatever’s gone on.
I hear someone breathing heavily and I rush toward the space between the vehicles.
Rose. Rocking back and forth. Her hands bloody, her eyes vacant.
The police officer. On the ground, blood staining the grass and rocks. I can’t see where it’s coming from, but I see the gun she stole from her mom’s house a few feet from her.
“Baby?”
As soon as she hears me, her eyes snap right to me. She looks like a wounded little girl, her baby blue eyes wide and looking at me like I’m supposed to fix this fucking mess. But for her, I would. Somehow, some fucking way, I’d fix it all for her.
“I didn’t kill him, . I’m sure I didn’t.” The sweet sound of her voice is a direct contradiction to the blood on her hands.
She’s covered in the shit and I don’t know where it’s coming from. Is it from him? God help me, is it hers? I reach down to feel for a pulse. Fuck me, he’s still alive.
What the hell are we gonna do now?
“How’d you know?” I ask her as I reach for her hands, not giving a shit about the blood on them. But they make her skin slick, so I have to squeeze her fingers to keep my grip. She stands, using me for support. We both look down at him for a moment and then her breath hitches.
She’s capable of this and yet, I can still look in her eyes and love her.
What the fuck does that make me?
“I didn’t want to kill him,” she whispers, her lips hardly moving.
She looks up at me and I’m lost in her eyes, even as this fucking chaos rains down and around us. We’re drowning in motherfucking chaos.
Mira, la gringa , I hear from somewhere behind. Tiene mas problemas, nene.
Mami still doesn’t understand.
Her problems are mine now.