The Two Assassins - Nestor Oceteva

Ch. 4

It was nearly sunrise when they pulled into the mansion. Someone must have called ahead as the whole household was waiting on the front porch. Emily was clinging desperately to Miguel's side while an older woman was rubbing their backs. Nestor carried the little boy, who had woken up and was grizzling, and placed him in Emily and Miguel's arms. Miguel was thanking his friend but Nestor was too busy looking back to see Isabella starting her bike again. Leaving Miguel mid sentence he ran over to where the real saviour was.

"Come have breakfast." She raised an eyebrow at his demand. "Please?" He frowned at himself, practically begging her but it worked. She cut the engine before dismounting and removing her dusty jacket. She ran her hands through her hair trying to look half decent before entering the house.

He noticed her typing into her phone. "The boyfriend?" She looked up and looked around. "What? Me?" He almost laughed at her reaction. When he nodded she laughed at him. "Uh no. Not the boyfriend. No boyfriend full stop. An alert went off at my house. I'm just looking in on the system." He raised his eyebrow again, seems to be a favourite of his. "You can do all that on your phone?" He asked intrigued. "Mhmm, it's a smart house system. I can control almost everything from my phone. My brother, JC, he was the intelligence officer for the Sons. I taught that little shit everything he knew and still he was a fucking idiot."

Nestor noticed Isabella barely ate anything during breakfast and he knew she hadn't eaten since before their meeting at lunch yesterday. He kept the information to himself but he noted he would try get her to eat something more later.

That plan went out the window when her phone beeped a few times. She stood gracefully and said her goodbyes before heading to her bike. Once again Nestor found himself following her. "Is everything alri...Isabella, your nose." She touched her finger to it and came away with blood. "Sorry, I need to go." Her face looked pinched in pain. Before he could get anything else out of her she was drifting out of the gates like a bat out of hell.

Nestor went back inside but instead of joining the celebration he went straight to his room. Sand and dirt fell on his shoulders as he undid his braids. He unbuckled his holsters, leaving the guns in easy reach. Pulling his shirt and pants off he tossed them in the basket for the housekeeper to wash. After showering he left his now clean hair to air dry in its natural waves. Laying on the bed, he text Arturo his 2nd in command to take his shift while he slept. Before he dozed off his mind wondered and he hoped Isabella had got home safe. The thought was fleeting, chased by the mental slap to not give a shit. Moments later he was sound asleep, only to find his dreams invaded my a certain enigma called Isabella.

Isabella had spent her ride praying to make it home in time. She had been reckless staying longer at the Galindos but it was nice to be apart of a family again. Seeing how happy the parents were made her want to stay longer and watch them fawn over the child. She had been day dreaming of what her and Juan's life would've been like if their parents loved them like the Galindos loved Cristobal. She felt the blood from her nose run down her chin and drip out of her helmet. She was pushing the limits of her bike knowing she was running out of time.

She didn't even park the beloved bike in the garage, instead dropping it at the front door. The headache was becoming unbearable, white flashes impairing her vision. She stumbled through the house to her bathroom, falling onto the vanity and sliding down to the floor. Fumbling around she hit a syringe packet and broke two vials before getting a proper hold on the third. She pricked her fingers trying to get the syringe in the vial. Finally, she had what she hoped was enough of a dose and stabbed the needle into her neck. She didn't have the time to try find a vein properly. She passed out just after squeezing some of the medicine into herself.

N - We are going to meet with Bishop. Meet us at the church off Avenues in 15.
N - Where are you?
N - If you don't reply I will come and get you Isabella.

Nestor started to feel something he hadn't felt for anyone but Miguel, Emily and Cristobal. He was worried about her, he knew she always had her phone on her but the calls were going to voicemail. The meeting with the Mayans was cut short when they realised Isabella wasn't there or answering. Bishop and Marcus led the way to her farmhouse while Nestor sped behind them.

When they arrived, guns were drawn. Her bike was cast abandoned on the ground and the door still partially open. Nestor entered first, patience wearing thin, he had Marcus at his back as Nestor knew he wouldn't hurt Isabella and he could trust him.

A few objects had been knocked off the hall table but there weren't obvious signs off a struggle. When he rounded the corner toward her bedroom he faltered. Blood drops could be seen on the carpet and her riding boot was poking out of the bathroom. He pushed the fear down, he checked there was no one else in the room before stepping into the bathroom.

He holstered his gun before dropping to her side. She looked lifeless, dried blood caked her lower face and down her front. He lifted her small body easily and lay her on the bed. The movement caused the syringe to move, still protruding from her neck. He went to pull it out but Marcus' words stunned him. "She didn't get back here in time." Nestor was about to ask him what the fuck he was on about. "Her medication. She was only on borrowed time hermano."

Nestor punch a hole in the wall, he blamed himself, he should have followed her back. Then he blamed her, why didn't she leave earlier, why did she stay for breakfast if it could kill her. He went to the bathroom and wet a wash cloth before wiping the blood away. He didn't know why he bothered but he thought she deserved better than this.

He accidentally knocked the syringe in when wiping her neck, he had briefly forgotten it was there still. He pulled the now mostly empty syringe out and tossed it across the room. His anger getting the best of him he stomped out of the room.

"This is your fucking fault!" Losing his temper Nestor stood in Bishops face. Bishop looked to Marcus who looked back confused too. "What the fuck are you talking about?" Bishop replied. "You are working with the rebels! We saw your boys at the camp last night. The rebels kidnapped Miguel's son. She was only out there because of them!" Bishop pushed Nestor away from him before spitting back, "The fuck you saying! We aren't working with them. I didn't even know a kid was missing."

Nestor could tell he was telling the truth but he was too mad at this point. "Your Angel and his little jerk circle friends were there. In the middle of the fucking rebel camp. You gotta check your boys loyalty before anyone else dies because of them." The men were so caught up in yelling at each other they hadn't noticed a forth person enter the room. A small body stumbled into the lounge, leaning against the wall for support. "Shut up, my head is fucking killing me." The men spun to face a pale and trembling Isabella.

Nestor was the first to reach her as he lifted her gently and took her to the couch. "Told you I wasn't a junkie." She whispered into Nestors neck. "At this point, I would rather that. Rehab would be easier for me than you being six feet under." He retorted dryly. Isabella sighed, Marcus must have said something. "I'm not going anywhere just yet. Still got some reapers to kill before I meet my maker." She joked with Nestor but he couldn't see a funny side to her death. "I'll be fine, get back to Miguel and toss those assholes out too while you are at it." She patted Nestors cheek gently and put a stray hair back behind his ear.

Nestor sent the two Mayans to their clubhouse to discuss the traitors but he stayed at Isabella's. While she slept he put her Harley back in the garage. He stopped to appreciate the sleek black racing car, a new looking Toyota Supra, parked inside.

Inside, he picked up a photo frame that had been knocked over by Isabella. It was of a teenage Isabella and a young boy, must be her brother Juan. She was holding the young boy on her lap but neither were looking at the camera instead they were looking at each with carefree smiles. He placed it back on the table before looking in the kitchen for something for lunch.