My child was sobbing and shaking in my arms. I, on the other hand, went numb the second I sat inside the car. My head was empty while I stared at the road and absently stroked over Erlina's hair. It was a weird feeling. Like I was detached from my body, only looking at me from a spactator's perspective. My face was blank, my brain seemed to have unlearned how to react. How to process. How to form a thought.
The adrenaline rush ended and my body felt heavier instantaneously. Everything was heavy. And dull. So dull. There must have been a lack of air inside my lungs, not enough blood inside my veins, not enough life in the shell of my body. Everything felt bruised. Every cell, somehow even my soul.
All of it was a blur. The drive, the door opening, the security guards with their guns coming to us, the walk inside his house.
"Take the child away. I want to talk to her alone."
Take the child away.
I snapped out of my trance. "No!" I said, not half as firmly as I wanted to. I was far from sounding or- God forbid, being strong.
I tried to get to Erlina but felt two stronger hands grabbing my shoulders. I had no chance. "No!" I screamed this time, voice hoarse.
"Mama!" She cried out loud.
"Stop! Stop it!" I plead. There was no answer, only my pleading and Erlina's crying.
Helplessly I watched my daughter get taken away from me. I tried to escape his grip, but he was simply stronger. Suddenly I was reminded of similar situations I had to endure and a sense of defenselessness washed over me. I felt my arms hurting and brusing under his grip that only got firmer with my attempt at escaping while he brought me into a room.
The door closed and with horror pooling inside my chest I heard the lock. His hands let go of my body and my weak knees gave up without the- painful, but nonetheless given- support. I dropped to the floor and the air was knocked out of my lungs. I groaned in pain when I took a shaky but deep breath. My chest hurt, my lungs hurt, my ribs hurt.
I looked up to the man. There was nothing warm or soft in the expression of his face. Nothing left of the man I shared my pain with at night.
"Don't hurt her," I whispered, my throat burning. "I'll do anything." My eyes squinted as a reaction to the stinging and my hands held my torso, attempting to ease the pain. It only made it worse.
He squatted down to me, reaching out to grab my chin. Bianchi lifted it with his fingers. There was betrayal in his eyes. And anger greater than I've ever seen.
"I gave you your chance, Ainara."
I almost flinched when I heard his voice. Again, when he said my name.
He's going to kill me. I betrayed him. I lied to him.
"I gave you your chance, and you just used it to stab me in the back," he said.
I closed my eyes, escaping him or at least the image of him.
"Open your fucking eyes!" He yelled.
I felt my breathing hitch, my heart stumbling upon itself. I slowly opened my eyes. Then I saw the gun in his other hand, his knuckles white. It was painful to hold his gaze. Usually, I wouldn't even think about submitting. I wouldn't blink to die. But something was different from all the times before. He had Erlina and I wasn't near her to get us out of this shit.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, truly devastated.
He huffed. "You're sorry..."
"A 'sorry' won't save you now," he coldly answered.
A tear escaped my eyes. "I know..." My voice broke. It was the first time I felt like this related to him. Before, we were a team. I didn't know if we were a good or a bad one, but at least we were equal. We were partners. Now he treated me like a traitor, an ordinary enemy, an unlucky inconvenience. Nothing more than a bothersome life that was in his way.
"Take care of her. When I'm dead... When- you shot me. Please, take care of her. She has no one left anymore..." I sobbed with the thought of her losing the only family she had haunting me. I didn't cry because I was afraid to die. Honestly, it would haven been gracious. I cried for her life.
"I'll give her to Jiménez," his dark voice and even darker words took my breath away.
I brought some distance between us, slapping his hand away from my chin.
"You have no idea what you're saying," I heard my voice shaking with anger, "No. fucking. idea. I get it, you're angry. Take it out on me, not Erlina!"
He stared at me for a moment. "Why would I."
My heart dropped. It hurt to know I had obviously trusted a person that didn't deserve it. That would shatter my heart. I, myself, gave him the power to do so.
"She is a child! A fucking child! She did nothing wrong! He will do things to her, far worse than death!" I exclaimed, shocked he would ever consider something like this.
He looked confused all of a sudden. Just a heartbeat, then it disappeared.
"Then I'll find someone else. When I kill Jiménez, she won't have a father anymore. Considering he's of fucking no use, that would probably be for the best."
I froze. It was my turn to furrow my brows in confusion.
"Father?" I repeated, disgusted by the idea. My eyes found his. "Jiménez is not her father."
He got up and walked the few steps needed to reach me. I watched him while he was doing something with the gun in his hands.
The familiar clicking sound told me the weapon, that was now directed at my face, was now able to kill me in an instant.
"Don't you fucking dare lie to me." He threatened, calm but firm nonetheless.
"I'm not lying," I said, telling the man the truth. "Her father is dead. Emilio knew him, that's all."
He scoffed. "Why would he want to kill you then, out of all people?"
I breathed in and out. "I was the one killing her father. And I tried to kill Emilio Jiménez. He wants revenge and he wants my child..."
"Who is her father?" He asked.
I gulped, but I just knew the question would come up.
"José Gutiérrez. He was the father. I killed him five years ago. I killed them all, Adrin."
Slowly, his hand sank down. Together with the deadly gun.
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