Rose
So this is guilt. The feeling that I’ve neglected the man I love for my list, noticing the way he stares off or isn’t always… with me in the moment.
And it gnaws at me as I put on the clothes Abel picked out for me.
Always helping me, always being the voice of reason.
My reflection mocks me, dark circles under my eyes poking fun at the wearisome weight on my body. I’m tired of running.
I lean forward, a frown on my face as I see a dark mark near my eyebrow. What is that? I run the water, sticking my fingers under the faucet and bringing them up to wipe at my face. The dark dot runs red on my finger.
Blood.
Leftover blood from last night. I grimace, and wonder how the hell Abel can stand to be stuck with me, let alone stay in love with me. Guilt and insecurity have me spiraling in a way I don’t know how to handle. I quickly pick up the clothes I was wearing and exit the bathroom, noticing that the room is now empty.
Did they leave me?
Attempting to ease the panic rising within me, I swing open the room door just in time to hear Joe say, “they know you’re coming.”
“Who does?” I ask, trying not to sound frantic, and they both turn to face me, Abel straightening from where he’d been putting things in the backseat. He stares at Joe a moment before taking over.
“Some friends of his,” he answers, walking toward me, his hands outstretched. Once he has my face in his hands, he looks into my eyes as if trying to commit them to memory and it scares me in a way I’ve never experienced before. “We’re going to Mexico.”
“Mexico? You want to be stuck with me there?” I whisper, trying to blink back tears, still reeling from my internal spiral. “I’m a monster.”
Abel shakes his head, his eyes never leaving mine as Joe gets in the car and starts it.
“You are exactly what I’ll need, espinita.” He brings me toward his face before pressing his lips to mine. “Joe had the idea that instead of trying to change you, we’d find use for your talents.”
What a strange alliance to have formed here, with the man who kept me proverbially chained and the man who set me free.
“What?” The idea of my violence being anything more than a burden causing my brows to furrow. I’ve never been unleashed. I’ve never been allowed to be.
He leans his forehead against mine.
“No more running, no more trying to change. Now let’s get the fuck outta here. Venga. ”