As I repeat the words in my head while staring at his unmoving bloody body on the floor; I struggle with the fact that what I'm seeing is actually real and I wasn't just making things in my head because of how much rage I accumulated towards him.
This was real.
As real as it gets.
The thought finally bombards my senses when Guzman stands from Polo's side, stumbles back and turns to face me with his face covered in blood, eyes just as red and filled with remorseful tears. In that exact moment, something inside me springs to life, a feeling that is. It wasn't remorse though, nor was it fear, definitely not regret. It was just sadness. I feel it so deeply that it drains through me rather than skating over my skin. It travels through every cell inside me to reach my thrumming heart, only then do my hands start to shake and my stomach turns into a quivering mess, my brain taunting me with images of the last year spent with me making his life a living hell; just like he did mine, ours really.
Guzman shakily comes my way and walks past me to the back of the crowd, whereas I; felt like I was glued to the ground like an old statue. The sounds murmurs going around the club, the hum of rumours spreading about how it happened, and the cries of those who couldn't hold back all faded into a steady buzzing in my ears.
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Up until I feel a hand, her hand, on mine as she threads our fingers together and pulls me away from the crime scene, through the crowd gathering still and to the back where not many could see us. I feel Carla's hand shaking, or maybe it's mine but either ways her grip was tight and demanding and it wasn't until we stopped that she turned me to her and came closer to whisper in my ear.
"Samuel it's Lu, she stabbed him before he fell from the window. I panicked and hid the bottle she used in my bag but I have no idea what else to do." Her words travel to my brain in motions as I try to process them.
Bottle.
Stabbed.
Lucrecia.
She pulls back finally with desolation shadowing her eyes, tears threatening to come out of their corners. We just stare at each other, the truth hanging heavy in the air between us, a near-tangible thing.
Carla desperately squeezes my hand to get me to say something and I just nod. Because my mind was spinning with thoughts of what the woman I loved had done once again and I had no idea what to do in return.
Except I know she would never let her best friend go through this alone, so she would sacrifice herself if it meant keeping her safe. Exactly like she protected Polo and just like she confessed it all to protect me.
The same way I was going to protect her now.
It wasn't shock that made me this speechless, I was just overwhelmed. I already know how defensive and blindly protective she can be when it came to the people she loved. But then I know her well, period. Enough for me to grip her hand tighter and pull her closer to me, my eyes turning serious and reassuring all together.
