Butterfly's Year

34. Questions

Victor didn't respond right away. He looked at me intently and stopped glaring.

– And what does Perez have to do with your father's death? – he asked, studying me carefully.

– I don't know – I muttered cautiously, because ultimately, I wasn't a hundred percent sure, and I would bet that Victor would overreact to the suspicions that had sprouted in my mind. – Something doesn't add up. But maybe I'm being paranoid. I don't know. I need to cool down and look at everything from a distance. I'll take a shower, sleep, and have a clearer mind because right now everything is mixed up.

I headed towards the bathroom with Victor trailing close behind.

– Paula, can you talk to me normally? – he called after me as I was already in the shower, letting hot water, too hot for Victor to join me, pour over me. – I don't understand any of this.

I quickly finished my shower, knowing he wouldn't go to bed without washing up, and stepped onto the steamed-up tiles.

– It just seems to me that my father didn't commit suicide – I murmured, towel-drying my hair.

Victor's eyes widened like saucers.

– No way... That's what you talked to Perez about. Do you suspect him?

I hesitated for a moment. If I said I suspected him, for Victor it would be equivalent to an accusation of murder.

– That letter from my father... – I began cautiously, catching Victor's gaze in the mirror, which was now attentively catching every movement on my face. – It's strange. It seems like it wasn't written by him but...

– Manuel? – he finished with a slight question, in which there was a clear hope that I would confirm it unequivocally.

– Someone who knows Spanish and wanted to indicate they were doing something for me – I replied, taking a safe roundabout way. – And it matches Manuel's handwriting – I added, grimacing inwardly.

There was no option. It had to be him. And now Victor would go into a frenzy.

– So Perez – he concluded, and the weight of his conviction fell on me doubly.

– It seems that way – I reluctantly agreed.

The little creature living inside me began the countdown to Victor's hysteria outburst.

Victor ran his hand over his face as if to refresh his thought processes, then looked at me seriously.

Three, two, one...

– Paulina, you need protection – he announced in a serious tone. – And we need to go to the police immediately. You could be in danger!

And so began the process of building the  "Paulina Protection Program".

– You know, I think that even if he did have a hand in my father's death, he did it for me... – I started delicately, though even as I said it, I could hear how absurd it sounded. – I know how ridiculous it sounds and that nothing justifies murder, but if the letter suggests what it does, he doesn't want to hurt me, just protect me. I don't know...

– Paula, please – Victor interrupted skeptically, which completely debunked my theory in my head. – Murder is murder. If he killed, he should be punished. I want to protect you too, but I don't kill people.

– I'm not a hundred percent sure he did anything at all – I muttered, wrapping myself in a towel. – The conversation with him was...

– What?

– Very vague. The letter itself doesn't prove he killed anyone.

– But the fact that the letter ended up there is suspicious enough for me – Vic concluded decisively.

The little creature inside me smiled subtly to itself.

– You won't stop him now – it muttered, making an all-knowing face, and I couldn't disagree with it.

I could hear it in his voice. He had already passed judgment on Manuel. He had a lead and wouldn't rest until he saw it through. Well... I tried to be gentle. I hadn't put a final mark on Manuel, but someone else already had.

If Manuel indeed had a hand in my father's death, he was screwed, and if he didn't, he was still screwed. Whatever he did, he was on Victor's blacklist ever since he found out that Manuel had once slept with me. Now he was simply on an even blacker list.

I finished my evening routine and marched to bed. Victor joined me shortly after his much cooler shower than mine. He tossed and turned on the mattress for a while before finally pulling me into a spooning position.

– You won't meet him again, right? – he whispered in my ear, his voice tinged with slight uncertainty.

I smiled to myself in the dark and turned to face my love.

– Of course not – I reassured him, with the unsettling image of Manuel, completely different from the one I knew before he left us, in my mind. – He's not the same Manuel from five years ago. He's changed. I think I should talk to Rafael.

– You should report this to the police – he said in a serious tone. – You may not be sure it's him, but the presence of a letter written by a guy your father never met personally is not normal. He was in that house either before or after Joachim's death, and that's strange.

I couldn't disagree with him. It was strange and very suspicious. Manuel had no logical reason to be going to my father's house. They never met, my father didn't know he existed, and suddenly they write a letter together? It made no sense. And his inspired speech during our meeting.

– Come here, little one – Victor's voice snapped me out of my fatalistic thoughts. He turned me to face him. – We'll deal with this tomorrow.

He ran his hand over my buttocks and made his way to my pussy, then turned me onto my back and dove under the fluffy blanket.

– When she's not close to me, I go crazy – he murmured and began to circle his tongue attentively over every nook and cranny. – All mine.

I made myself comfortable on the mattress and let myself be carried away by the dance-like movements below my abdomen. I absorbed all the energy he was giving me, and when I stopped feeling him, I pulled him to me and pushed his penis inside me.

He moaned softly and started thrusting his hips strongly over and over again. I dug my fingers into his back. He pressed his pubic bone against my body and with each movement rubbed my clitoris, inevitably bringing me to the edge of pleasure until I was lost. He kept thrusting and thrusting until he suddenly pulled out of me and hovered his hips directly over my face.

I took his member into my mouth and let him go as deep as he wanted. I choked, so he pulled back a little, then, maintaining the discovered depth, he fucked my mouth until I felt the characteristic bitter taste of semen spreading across my taste buds.

He collapsed onto the pillows next to me and again pulled me as close as possible, creating my favorite, safe cocoon around me. Only after eight delightful, uninterrupted hours of sleep did the sound of Victor's phone ringing wake me up.

My treasure crawled out of the bed only when the phone rang for the third time and clumsily reached the nightstand on his side of the bed.

– Hello – he croaked sleepily into the receiver. – Oh yes. Come upstairs. I'll be there in a minute.

He hung up without saying goodbye and reluctantly climbed out of bed. He shuffled towards the wardrobe and returned after two, maybe three minutes, in sweatpants and a matching hoodie.

– I'm going to greet our guest – he murmured, leaning close to my ear. – When you leave the bedroom, get dressed first – he added, then slapped me on the butt.