The air was as still and silent as a hot Texas summer night could be. The buzz of the insects and the rustle and call of the nocturnal animals felt familiar to Esme and were a white noise that made her feel she was home. The moon was high and bright, illuminating the rushing and recently risen river below her. Summer storms had made their way through, a brief break to the smothering heat and filling the formerly waning river bed. It made for a great day on these rare summer occurrences, floating about lazily and working on her tan, drinks were plentiful between friends and you could let any stress you had floated down the river after you left. As she gripped the old iron railing of the backroad bridge, feeling the failing paint flaking under her anxious hands, she knew those golden days of youth and summer were falling behind her now. The river would take her trouble away tonight, but in the morning a whole new set would emerge in their place. Even so, this is what she wanted, deep down she knew the conversation she was about to have wasn't going to be one with a happy ending, and she'd prepared for that. Still, until she heard the words from his lips herself, that last bit of naivete she had left would hope against hope that this night wouldn't end in tears.
Her upbringing with a single mother, no stability that she could recall, and inheriting her mother's reputation, only doing what she had to make a living, she knew there were no happy endings. Being a striking Latin woman, hell, a woman at all was enough to teach her the authorities in place were corrupt and broken. She'd been born a criminal they'd said. It was first said the moment she opened her eyes. "Look at this little one, a thief." her father had said. "Esmeralda we'll call her, as she's already stolen emeralds for her eyes." Her father hadn't come from a line of fortune-tellers that she was aware of, but he'd unknowingly planted the seed that would grow to become her destiny. One filled with heartbreaking choices and world view shattering experiences she would be told she was strong for overcoming. She didn't think anyone needed to be applauded for being strong. It came from being broken and filling the gaps with something that couldn't be torn apart again. Her so-called strength was just the glaringly apparent failures of the power structures in place. And she knew the only way to get ahead, to move from outside their oppressive shadow was to beat them at their own game.
The boy on his way to convince her to not follow her dreams didn't know that yet. He had his delusions and she wasn't sure she had the heart to take them away from him. Things wouldn't always work out, he wasn't going to save anyone, let alone her. But if you asked her, she didn't need saving.
The hiss of drying raining on the asphalt under the tires of his muscle car didn't help distract him from where he was headed. Every rendezvous with her up to this point had been nothing but a flip in his stomach and tension in his balls. Where yearning and excitement once lay there was only dread and uncertainty. He was young, he was full of confidence and despite the chronic bad attitude and bloody knuckles, he kept he still thought he could make her stay. He wouldn't lose her. He couldn't. She loved him she'd said. That meant something to an 18-year-old boy still deep in his first love and soon to be last heartbreak. The flashes of running from the cops, late nights spent in the back seat of his car, some laying together next to the dashboard light with the radio creating a soundtrack to their youth unknowingly. He gulps, recalling the way she looked at him when they were alone. They were all burned into his mind and they would be there for many years to come. He couldn't help but remember the first time he saw her, walking into an abandoned house the local kids used for parties. They held the same beer in their hands, locked eyes that held the hunger of teenage lust. Her in cut-offs and a bikini top, deep brown from the summer sun, bouncy black hair in waves falling down her shoulders and framing a heart-shaped face with eyes greener than he'd ever seen.
They were both attractive and rebellious, it took nothing to make them like each other. They were quick to go to bed, and he was quick to fall with for her independent nature, and his desire to protect her quickly fell in behind. She wasn't like any other girl he'd met, and he thought it was a compliment. But as the lust faded, love grew in its place, seeing what hardships she faced and trying his damnedest to save her from them. He rode in on his steel horse and swept her away despite her insistence she didn't need it. But when he spoke softly and touched her the same in the sweat-soaked leather seats, naked and vulnerable by both clothes and emotions, she couldn't help but cry and let him hold her, both sharing their fears. Their biggest in their lives at that time was simply losing the other.
YOU ARE READING
Never Break the Chain
FanficJavier Peña and the original character Esme. The story follows the moments in their relationship in which things change, carrying the story of their romance from being young and in love in Texas at age 18 to the modern Narcos timeline. We follow Esm...