Borderline

Borderline - Prologue

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               Dante grabbed my hand and forced me to run, but I was almost unable to keep up with his pace. His whole body was sweating, and I could feel mine start to persperate too.

               If those guys caught us…

               “Don’t think about it!” Dante yelled at me, seemingly reading my mind. “Thinking slows you down!”

               Ai, ai, ai, I thought, before finally shutting my brain down like he told me to do.

               We rounded the next corner, hands still intertwined. There was no possible way that I would let him go, and I could almost feel him thinking the exact same thing. Footsteps pounded behind us and our legs pushed faster and faster so they wouldn’t catch up.

               Dante led us through street after street and if I had been trying to keep track of where we were, my mind would’ve gone into hyperactive mode. The blur of the buildings were permanently inscribed into my brain. The beautiful sound of fluent Spanish filled my ears no matter where we turned, and I could catch little things like, “Vamanos, chico,” or my ultimate favorite saying, “Te quiero.”

               I glanced up at Dante and he must’ve heard the exact same thing I did, because his eyes met mine. They weren’t the average brown eyes that most Hispanics had, but then again, neither were mine. The passion that flowed between us at that exact moment seemed to take over my body, and I felt myself run faster than I ever had in my life.

               We finally couldn’t handle it any longer, and I was pulled into a dark, narrow doorway. “I hope that this will keep us safe,” Dante whispered right in my ear. His arms went around my waist and hugged me into him.

               I nuzzled into his chest, almost oblivious to the rest of the world at that exact moment. The small prick of whiskers rubbed my cheek, but I didn’t even mind this time. My heart was pumping at a thousand miles an hour, and my stomach was clenched in that familiar good pain we all call love.

               Dante kissed my forehead, my cheek, my other cheek, and finally that spot right underneath my ear. I mimicked his moments, kisses falling exactly on his face as they did on mine. So at the same moment, our lips touched, and the world exploded.

               Colors flashed through me and all around me, blinding me even though my eyes were closed. His scent flooded my nostrils, intoxicating my lungs. Even dirty and mixed with the slight tinge of sweat, the auroma made me feel comforted but at the same time vibrant and alive. Dante’s left hand reached up to cup my cheek while his other arm pressed me even tighter against him so that there was no chance of escape.

               As if I had even wanted to try.

               I don’t know how long we went on like that, but we must not have heard the noises around us, because the only thing I remember breaking that moment is that cold, scary voice whispering, “Gotcha, bonita.”

               But before I even had a chance to respond, Dante had already stepped in front of me, hands clenched, ready to fight for our lives.