Chapter 15 – Remi
Fifteen
Remi
Hannibal coils lazily around my forearm, his weight familiar and grounding in a way nothing else has been over the last few days. His scales are cool against my skin, and his muscles shift slowly as he moves, completely unbothered by the silence that’s taken over the apartment.
I sit on the floor of the room I built for them with my back against the wall and my legs stretched out in front of me.
Normally, this much quiet would have me reaching for the nearest speaker or turning on every TV in the condo just to fill it.
It’s still crawling beneath my skin, but I’m too fucking drained to do anything about it.
I don’t know which is worse, the silence or the endless what-ifs.
If I hadn’t gone back to work, I would’ve been with them. Estela never would’ve needed to stop at the bank because I would’ve had cash. And even if we had gone inside, I could’ve protected them.
I would have protected them.
I’ve replayed every possible version of that day so many times that I don’t know how to make my brain stop conjuring new ones. Every road leads me back to the same place, where I think about what I could’ve done differently and wish like hell I could go back and do it.
So I’ve been hiding in here instead.
My thumb glides along Hannibal’s body, tracing the patterns of his scales as I count without meaning to. One, two, three, four, five. I follow the darker band near his spine, then the lighter one beside it, noticing how each shape repeats without ever being exactly the same.
I focus on the snake’s rhythm and the texture beneath my thumb, on the subtle movement of muscle beneath his scales, until there isn’t room in my head for anything else.
For a little while, it works.
Then a memory slips through anyway…A cabinet door left open, flour dusted across the counter, Estela laughing behind me.
My head lifts on instinct, as if I hear her for real.
But there’s only silence.
It rushes back in too loudly, and I blink hard, dragging a hand down my face as my thoughts scatter, jumping faster than I can catch them. We were just in the kitchen together, with Zara sneaking cookie dough and Estela giving me shit for encouraging her.
I stop the memory the second the sting starts behind my eyes, shoving it back where it came from before it can break through.
I’m done crying. I have to be.
Hannibal tightens slightly around my arm, and I refocus on him as another thought works its way in.
“He saved her,” I whisper. “I know that’s part of his job, but it complicates everything. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?”
A soft rustle comes from the enclosure to my right, and I glance over at Clarice. She’s already awake, her head lifted as her tongue flicks out in slow, deliberate licks of the air.
Despite everything, I smile.
I’ll never be able to handle her the way I handle Hannibal. A pit viper can’t be tamed, but even from behind the glass, there’s something about her that feels familiar, the way she watches everything around her, perfectly still until she has a reason not to be.
I return Hannibal to his enclosure and secure it, then move closer to Clarice.
A sudden clatter from somewhere inside my condo stops me, making every thought in my head disappear. I drop to one knee and unlock the hidden compartment beneath Hannibal’s enclosure, where I keep my Benelli M4.
Right day, wrong condo. If there was ever a perfect moment for live target practice, today, the day of Estela’s funeral, is definitely it.
I ease through the crack in the door, careful not to let it creak, then slip into the hallway.
Light footsteps move closer, but I’m too numb to feel the adrenaline that should be kicking in.
I rack the shotgun and swing around the corner, my finger hovering near the trigger until the smallest gasp stops me.
And I’m staring straight at my favorite person.
“Valentina…”
The tears I haven’t cried all day flood my eyes, stealing the rest of my voice. The shotgun slips from my hands as my knees give out, and I would’ve hit the floor if her arms hadn’t wrapped around me.
“Baby,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.”
“Y-You came.”
She presses a kiss to my temple and holds me tighter. “Of course I came. I would never let you do this alone. Not without me.”
I cling to her and finally let myself fall apart, because if there’s one person in this world I don’t have to pretend with, it’s her. We stay like that until my breathing evens out and the worst of the tears pass. When I finally pull back, my gaze drops to the shotgun lying on the floor beside us.
My stomach twists.
“Fuck, Val. I almost shot you.”
“But you didn’t,” she says, already knowing exactly where my mind is headed. Like always. “And I probably should’ve announced myself before sneaking into the home of a woman with enough weapons to arm a small country.”
She glances down at herself and smooths a hand over her dress.
“You were this close to ruining my outfit.”
A breath of laughter slips between us, and I finally feel steady enough to pull away.
“I missed you so much, pendeja,” I say with a sniffle, wiping beneath my eyes with my thumbs.
“Me too. So why the hell are we living so far apart?”
“It’s Maksim’s fault. Ditch him.”
She laughs, soft and breathless. “Absolutely not.”
“How is he?”
“Good. Hated that he couldn’t come with me, but there was no way he could leave work right now.”
I smile because as much as I miss having her close enough to show up whenever I need her, Valentina deserves every bit of happiness life has given her. I’d never begrudge what she and Maksim have, even if I occasionally want to kidnap her and bring her home.
“Tell him I said hi.”
“I will.”
She throws her arms around me again, and I hold on tighter this time. Another wave of sobs breaks through, and I bury my face against her shoulder.
“Let it out, baby. It’s okay,” she murmurs against my hair. “I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”
By the time I pull back again, I’m exhausted from crying but lighter than I’ve felt since the bank.
“Okay. No more crying.”
“No more crying,” she agrees, gently wiping the last of the tears from my cheeks. “Do you need a few minutes before we leave?”
I shake my head and take a deep breath. “I’m better now.”
“Good.” Valentina takes my hand and pulls me toward the kitchen, where she grabs my helmet and holds it out to me. “Old times?”
A grin breaks across my face. “You already forget what it feels like to lose?”
She tips her head back and laughs. “I think you’re the one who forgot who’s second best.”
The vibration runs through my body as I swing a leg over my bike, grip the handlebars, and lean forward. I don’t want to think or feel anymore. I just want to ride with the person who means everything in the world to me.
I didn’t realize how badly I needed her until she was in my arms, or that without her showing up today, I probably wouldn’t have left my condo.
We pull out side by side and accelerate down the street. The wind cuts through me, dragging everything loose with it, and carrying it away as Valentina keeps pace beside me.
“How long are you staying?” I ask, already dreading the answer.
Her voice comes through the speaker softly. “Two weeks.”
I sigh, the sound crackling through her helmet.
“I’m sorry. Maksim has work, and things are…”
“I get it, V. I do. I just miss you.”
Her quiet breath fills my ear. “You can always come with me for a bit. For as long as you need.”
I swerve around a blue sedan, and she follows. “You know I can’t do that. I have Sloane’s, and I want to be here for Zara, and…” My voice trails off as a certain SWAT officer slips into my head.
Thiago.
What the hell was I even going to say? That I need to stay because of him? I don’t even want to see him. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
“Remi? And what?”
“My mom,” I answer quickly. “Estela’s death has hit her pretty hard, and I can’t leave her.”
Valentina goes quiet for a few seconds, and I know that silence. She heard everything I didn’t say. There’s no way she knows about Thiago, but she’s the one person I’ve never been able to hide much from. She always knows when something’s off.
The problem is that I don’t even know what that something is yet. I’m grateful when she doesn’t press. Instead, she pulls up beside me at a red light and revs her engine.
I smile behind my visor. “You’ve been out of the game for a long time. Are you sure you want to get whipped your first day back?”
She laughs and revs again. “Please. I was winning races before you even learned how to shift.”
“Fuck, Val. Go easy on me. I can’t help that I was born four years too late.” I glance over at her. “But you might want to look both ways this time.”
The light flips green, and I floor it.
Valentina is still laughing, which costs her precious seconds.
“Remi, you bitch!”
I shoot through the intersection as her laughter fills my helmet. She catches up fast, her engine roaring beside me as she pulls even.
“Cheap shot!” she shouts through the comms.
“You hesitated,” I fire back, shifting and pushing harder.
The road opens ahead of us, and we fall into the rhythm we’ve known for years, reading the traffic and each other without needing to say a word.
We take the next turn together, leaning low as the bikes move beneath us.
She edges ahead for a few seconds, just enough to make her point, but I close the gap and pull even again as the pavement stretches out.
My thoughts are finally quiet for the first time in days. It almost feels like before, when we were just two girls chasing speed and the thrill of racing, without everything life would eventually throw our way. But when I catch a glimpse of the black dress beneath my jacket, the illusion shatters.
The cemetery comes into view ahead, and we both ease off the throttle. Valentina pulls up beside me, and neither of us says a word as we pass through the gates.
Reality has caught up with us.