His Territory

18

I lay sprawled across the cold bathroom floor, my back pressed against the unforgiving tiles for the rest of the night. Carlos, Adrián, Cristian—all of them bounced through my mind like ghosts, their voices pinpricks against my skin. Their words swirled in my thoughts, each one a tiny wound that wouldn't stop stinging.

I couldn't grasp the thought of Los betraying Cristian—for me. In this world, taking another man's woman was almost as unforgivable as spilling his blood. The ultimate betrayal.

Why, Carlos? Why would you feel so strongly for me?

My mind tangled with questions as the sun rose, bathing the room in the first light I'd seen since yesterday. I forced myself to my feet, dragging myself into the shower, hoping to scrub away the confusion clawing at my thoughts. I let the water run over me, the hot spray pounding against my scalp as if it could wash the doubts from my mind.

Why Carlos?

Why Cristian?

What about Adrián?

With each question, tears burned down my cheeks, morphing into a waterfall as I thought of Adrián. How had I ended up here—one woman entangled with three men in just a few short weeks? The weight of it pressed on my chest, my breath hitching as I sank to the floor of the shower, letting the water stream down over me.

I wrapped my arms around myself, desperately searching for comfort, but my lungs refused to fill, panic tightening its grip. My fingers trembled uncontrollably, clutching my ankles as if holding on would keep me steady. My vision blurred, and a ringing sound grew louder in my ears, drowning out everything, even the steady drum of the water.

The world around me started to spin, the walls trembling, and I with them. It was as if I was trapped in an earthquake of my own emotions.

"Lucia? Baby, look at me." A voice, distant yet familiar, cut through the haze. "Amor, please."

The walls stilled, and warmth settled on my shoulders where strong hands gripped me, anchoring me. I blinked, struggling to focus, until I found myself staring into a pair of deep, chocolate-brown eyes.

The squeak of the shower knob pulled me back to reality, and the water shut off, leaving the room heavy with steam. A towel draped over my shoulders, and as I looked up, I was surprised to see Carlos crouching beside me, concern etched across his face.

"Lucia, I'm so sorry," he murmured, his voice laced with regret. "I shouldn't have left you here alone."

He reached out a hand, and I took it, letting him help me sit up against the edge of the tub. He pulled his shirt over his head and then handed me another towel. I wrapped it around myself tightly, scooting forward, shivering as I let him guide me.

"Lean back, slowly," he instructed, his hand warm and steady on the back of my neck. He stretched for my shampoo, squeezing some into his palm, and began to work it gently through my hair, his fingers massaging my scalp with a tenderness that eased some of the tension from my body. My eyes fluttered closed, my muscles slowly relaxing under his touch.

As he rinsed out the shampoo, he murmured, "Forgive me, Lucia. I knew it wasn't safe to leave you here alone, but I did it anyway."

I shook my head lightly, unable to find the words I needed. A thousand questions and none of them I could put into words.

Where was Cristian?

Carlos moved on to the conditioner, his hands careful as he worked it through the ends of my hair, each stroke deliberate, almost reverent. "I was supposed to keep you safe, not make you feel abandoned." His gaze stayed on his hands, his voice low, almost broken.

When he finished, he reached for the body wash, lathering up a sponge. He moved to wash my legs, his touch steady as he worked, the suds piling on my skin. When he was done, he set the sponge aside, standing and turning away quickly.

"I'll leave you to finish," he said, a hint of something I couldn't read in his voice. "Let me know when you're done."

Carlos slipped out of the bathroom without another glance. I stared after him for a moment before I picked up the sponge and quickly washed the rest of myself. As I turned off the faucet and wrapped myself in a larger towel, a sudden, violent banging erupted from my front door, followed by muffled shouts.

I froze, my heart hammering as I recognized the voice. Cristian.

"Open the fucking door, Lu! I'm sorry!" His words were laced with desperation, each one a little more frantic than the last.

I took a step toward the door, intending to face him, but as I turned, I found myself face-to-face with Carlos. I gasped, nearly stumbling, but he pressed a hand over my mouth, his other finger at his lips, motioning for silence.

"Where can I hide?" he whispered, his voice urgent.