𝐞𝐜𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲, elite.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧,

When Charisma pulled into the Nunier driveway, the entire home looked as if it were abandoned. The estate itself had been unkempt and the windows were darkened. The exterior and darkened interior only made Charisma reach for her phone, searching for Polo's location once more to solidify that he was currently somewhere about the home.

A blue pin popped up on the map and Charisma groaned. From the simple blue circle atop of the right corner of the house did she know that he was in Guzman's room. Exiting the car, Charisma stumbled slightly, her soft buzz still lingering. She didn't lock the car, not wanting to give notice upon her arrival, though the engine of Valerio's sports car could've easily given way. That and the fact it was a stick, you could hear Chari switching gears the second she turned down the street from miles away.

Stumbling up the driveway, Charisma made it to the front door, cupping her hands among the glass to peer inside. There was no way anyone knew she was there, it hadn't looked like anyone had been home in days. Her hand twisted the knob, groaning when it wouldn't move.

"My fucking luck," she grumbled as she stepped over the planter and scurried the perimeter of the house until she found herself at the backdoor. Her eyes narrowed upon the keypad as her fingers began tapping away. Thankfully her memory was pretty solid, especially considering she was still nursing her high. Besides the many nights where Guzman would sneak her over late at night, who knew breaking and entering into the Nunier residence with their own passkey would come in handy.

The lights upon the keypad shined green and Chari grinned, pushing the door open. The Nunier residence was mostly quiet, for faint sounds were heard upstairs. She could hear a mixture of muffled voices lingering and the sound of music playing over.

Part of her wanted to follow the voices, however, the message from her brother was greater.

He was in Guzman's room and regardless if the voices were coming from there, that's where she was headed.

Guzman's bedroom door was ajar, light shining out. She paused in front of the door, waiting to hear any commotion from inside, however, the only voice she heard was of Guzman coming from the office room over. Her hand stilled upon his door, wanting to stalk into the office, however, she pushed the bedroom door open, her eyes widening in fear.

The sight was enough to knock the brunette stone cold sober.

The television was playing home videos of Mariana dancing, while before slumped over and bloodied, Polo looked on with hooded eyes.

Charisma was hot on her feet, running towards her brother as he was bloody and beaten, tied to a computer chair. "Polo!" she said, coming to his aide. Her hands went to the ropes holding his hands in place and began untying the knots, "Polo," she repeated.

Her brother's head hung, his eyes barely able to remain open, and her hand went to cup his chin, holding him to focus upon her, "Polo."

His eyes fluttered, opening then closing before he strained focus. Swirls of blue looked back at her with pain and fear and Charisma's heart began wilting into pieces. He didn't deserve this.

"Esta bien," she whispered, freeing his hands before getting to work on the knots at his ankles. She was halfway through when Polo's free hand rested atop of her head, tapping her. She looked up, meeting his face with worry. Her replica of eyes followed his trail to the bedroom doorway.

"How'd you get in here?"

She stood tall, her eyes churning from soft to warm as she embraced Samuel's shocked persona. Guzman stood beside him, his own expression coaxed of shock and worry.

"It doesn't matter how I fucking got in here."

Guzman stood at a loss of words while Samuel entered, his arms waving, "yes it does, you broke–"

"Don't fucking talk to me about breaking the fucking law," she spat, her eyes broad with anger. Charisma glanced between her weakened brother and the two boys in front of her, "do you not see anything wrong with this picture?!"

"Chari–" Guzman began.

She could tell Guzman had been crying due to the whites of his eyes being red and the darkness of his swollen under eyes. She felt sorry for his sorrow but it didn't excuse the treatment of her brother.

Deep down, Charisma knew it was far too good to be true and she felt bad for even thinking that to begin with. She knew Guzman couldn't have forgiven Polo for what he did or didn't do. Still, there was no excuse.

"No, like what the fuck is wrong with you?!" she yelled, her eyes shooting daggers. "I can expect some bullshit like this from you," her eyes snapped to Samu before tearing back to Guzman, "but you – you're better than this," she pointed to the passenger seat of the car, "this isn't you."

Guzman's eyes trailed the end of Charisma's index finger and he looked away, only she could make him feel so ashamed. Deep down his guilty conscience knew better, this wasn't the type of revenge he wanted to get. Granted, he did feel good for the few minutes he hit Polo until he couldn't handle his fists and knocked out. However, the feeling was short lived and at the end of the night, a bloody battered Polo couldn't bring back Marina.

"I needed answers," Guzman admitted and ran his hands over the back of his hair. "And then what?" she breathed, "put him in a body bag?"

Her heart was stammering in her chest and her head pounded from the overdrive of emotions filling her core. She felt way too much: guilt, for not checking on her brother sooner and going with her gut feeling that something hadn't been right, sadness, for seeing her brother in such state, fear, that Guzman had literally nearly knocked him out cold due to the excessive blood he was sporting on his uniform, and anger towards the fact that her brother had been too naive to believe things could return to normal and the fact that Guzman had this in him.

Charisma slid her arm underneath Polo's arms and lifted him up, hoisting the majority of his weight onto her. He limped alongside Charisma as she slowly stumbled a limp of her own. She stopped once she stood in front of the doorway, eyeing up her ex-lover.

Guzman sighed heavily and moved out of her way.

Her steps felt heavy with each one she took but she found herself glued to the floor. She could feel his eyes on her and the second she looked at him, she could feel a lace of anger and guilt radiating off his pores.

"Lo siento," she said softly, peering up at Guzman. She shouldn't be the one apologizing. He was at fault here but she was torn between anger and sorrow. Her heart ached for the pain Guzman endured when losing his sister and not knowing the truth, and she felt as if she were at partial fault.

"You deserve to find out the truth," she admitted, "but not like this..." her eyes drifted to her brother clinging to her frame before meeting Guzman, "not like this."

▬▬▬ 𝖝𝖔 ▬▬▬

AN UPDATE?! I know, I'm just as surprised as you are. I lost my spark, submerged in writers block (though I knew where I wanted to go, I just lost the drive in writing sadly), and it took me almost a year to come out of. I'm sorry for keeping you guys waiting for an update and appreciate your endless support and patience. <3