by Mari Sillva
Jesse once again thought of how good it would be to live in such a quiet, comfortable, and mostly heated place, since it felt too cold. She also wondered how delightful it would be to see the drops of water coming down the large glass windows on a rainy day. But what most caught her attention was the picture she had stuck on the wall on a mobile in the left corner, next to a mini bar with several bottles of whiskey imported from countries like France and Germany, among other drinks. She stopped in front of the dresser, carefully observing the image of the woman on the screen. It was the same one that was tattooed on Blade's arm. But there the image was complete it sat in the middle of a beautiful garden. From the walls in the background you can see that it was the terrace. She smiled, realizing that the place was once the way she imagined it, and how it should always be: full of colors and joy, especially life. The woman was beautiful, especially the smile. On the chest of drawers, too, there were some ornaments, much of it feminine, which the girl found rather strange especially an antique music box white gold with a ballerina on the top of the right foot beautiful and delicate. Her hair was tied in a stiff coke at the top of her head, a rose-colored tail with a round skirt of veil, so perfect it looked real. On impulses she reached for a small button that was right in the middle, making the dancer spin so lightly it seemed to float. Smile like a child seeing that. The music was serene and tranquilizing, when she found herself already holding it in her hands.
-Get those dirty hands off, now! -Blade has arrived and was possessed to see she touching his things. Even with her back to him, her eyes grew dizzy, she turned to face him, regretting it soon after. What she had seen was terrible, his clothes that were once white, were now red with blood. She was so afraid that she did not have the strength to hold the object in her hands, bouncing it to the ground and breaking it into several pieces. To her bad luck, the ballerina's head had rolled close to his feet.
- Look what you did, you worthless! - Blade exploded angrily. Raising both hands on his bewildered head, he saw the pieces of one of the few memories he had of his mother lying on the floor. It was as if the heart itself had broken inside the chest, the pain was the same.
- Sorry! - More begged than she asked, even terrified of his exaggerated reaction, she knew the object was important. And she felt very guilty. -I can glue it on, it'll be brand new, - she concluded hopefully, not looking at him again.
-Do not you dare touch that again or I do not answer for me!
She stopped her hand in the air, horrified at the harshness in the raised tone of that raw voice, her intention was to bend over to his feet to catch the ballerina's head, to find the courage to look at him again as if she were asking permission to do it , and what she saw almost brought her to tears. The eyes of the lawless man had turned, like a hurricane at the height of his fury, into a darker grayscale.
-So tell me where to buy an equal, I do not know where you sell something so sophisticated. - she said innocently, she was really trying to find a way to fix the bullshit she had done. -Even if it is necessary to divide into two hundred installments, I can buy do they accept a shopping ticket, too? - I have some that I got from my godmother's birthday and I saved it for some emergency.
And that was one of the big ones, the object was really important to Blade. He took a deep breath, his hand itching to pick up his silver thirty-eight caliber pistol and commit another murderous murder that day. That sweet way of her annoyed him deeply.
-Not if you sold your soul to the devil would have money to buy something like that then shut that mouth before I shut you up forever! - he let out the words without mercy, with coldness and hostility.
She suddenly had to blink with long eyelashes to keep the tears from flowing down her fragile, thin features for a second Blade paused to think about what he had said, but he felt not a trace of remorse. He finally fell on himself, bringing her there was a mistake! And he would fix it as fast as possible even in a black bag, which was not far from it. She was part of the enemy side, she was one of them.
-Sorry, I was just trying to fix what I did. I'll never forgive myself for it. - She lowered her head again and began to wring her hands.
- Me neither. -Maldonado's tone grew increasingly cold and cruel.
He was showing his true face, Jesse concluded. Not knowing she was not seeing even half of that man was, but one day she would know the worst way possible.
- I'm really sorry, I'm sorry! -Jesse would feel guilty about it for the rest of her life, and the lawless man knew that.
- I told you to stop apologizing, damn it! It makes you look dumber than you are.
Jesse controlled the urge to answer something cruel or rude. She was too polite for that, even if he deserved it, it was not her fault. She simply closed her eyes with bleeding heart, it was not the first time someone had hurt her, and he certainly would not be last either.
-I want you away from me! - Preferably an entire ocean if possible! I've never regretted having met anyone in my life, actually knowing you made no difference, for me you are nothing more than a walking problem.
The researcher thought that no one would ever hurt her more than her father, but she was wrong. The blow was so great that he had to lean against the wall to avoid falling to the ground since if it depended on him, it would shatter on the ground, because she did not move from the place. She rested her hands on her heart to soften the pain she was feeling. Blade took two steps toward the girl, pulling the two guns off the waistband and practically tossing them over the dresser. The noise was so loud that Carter's body trembled with fear. She could smell the blood, which was certainly not his, on the bandit's blouse from afar.
- Wants to know? Who are you to talk to me like that, do not even know me! -When Jesse saw she had already spoken.
- And I do not even want to! Blade answered rudely.
He walked over to the soft carpet, took off his shoes before stepping on it the way his mother had taught him when he was five and sat down on the red couch in a wasted way, lighting a cigarette with a match, which soon after threw in the fireplace that caught fire like a puddle of gas. He looked like those eighties villains full of style and class, he was the most handsome man the major's daughter had ever known, that he could not deny. But beauty without content meant nothing to her. For her, the essential was not visible to the eyes.
-Whose blood is on your blouse? - she asked so softly he could barely hear.
He filled his chest slowly, slowly trying to calm himself. She irritated him too much he could not even hear her.
-Will you never stop talking?
He came to her like a brave bull her eyes were in a blue mixed with red. That was how she left him: out of her mind. He pretended not to feel the researcher's erotic and attractive scent. The young woman, frightened, shrank as much as she could this close seemed so much bigger than she thought. She could not contain her crying, she was afraid he would hurt her.
-Do you know what your problem is? - you create your own storms then cry when it rains.
He leaned closer over hers, his eyes burning with rage, his face in a red tone did not fail to notice the naivety of the girl trying in vain to pull the end of the blouse down, trying to cover the thighs a little. Like I wanted to see something, he thought scornfully. But he really wanted to.
-It is during the storms that the true sailor learns to sail, crying does not make me weak, it only shows that I have feelings. -She looked at him with her hands on her hips, drawing her courage, she did not know where.
-You like playing with danger, do not you? - He smiled wryly, pulling his lip to one side. Jesse shuddered in the face of such charm, stirred up feeling a certain discomfort between his legs. -I have a rather" unstable "temperament, I can´t control my anger when I'm nervous. If I were you, I did not pay to see, I do not want to have to go away with "more" a body today.
Carter's eyes widened at the revelation. Yes! He had killed someone! I thought it might have something good on you, even been a Maldonado. Blade fe
lt a pang in his chest hearing this, maybe it was the indifference in her voice. -But I see that I was wrong, it is a cruel heartless murderer, who, like guns, knows very well how to use words to hurt people. - He looked away, trying to ease the anger that burned inside her, and watched the fire with flames burning in two colors and dancing like a tango couple.
-You forgot calculating, - he said with a smirk, and he stuck his hands into his jeans pocket. "I'm all bad I can imagine and a little more. - It's good that you know this before raising the tone for me again.
If he intended to repress her, he had succeeded.
-When you celebrate someone's death, you're the first to die!
Jesse shook his head sadly, the idea of the circumstances in which that blood went to his shirt made her nauseous there was red without white parts.
- Enough! - He growled like a rabid dog ready for the attack. - Go to the bedroom! And if I hear a grunt, even this story will not have a "happy" ending. As soon as the day dawns, I'll get rid of you and have the pleasure of pretending it does not exist, -he exclaimed menacingly before disappearing into a dark corridor on the right.
Jesse picked up every piece of the music box he had thrown in the trash and wrapped it in an old newspaper he found on a pile of magazines and newspapers by the sofa, praying that he would only miss when he was far away. She went back to the bedroom with little steps lay down on the bed, careful not to make a sound, the poor little breath. She swallowed the tears, did not want to sleep, was afraid.
-What if I wake up dead, my God? - she thought as loud as if it were possible. The dead do not sleep, nor do they wake up. she vowed not to sleep, but when she saw he was already waking up in the daylight.
- I woke up alive, thank God! - she took a deep breath, relieved after checking whether the neck was whole, or without some member of the body out of place.
She smelled fresh bread, making her stomach clench in protest of the scent. She looked to the side and saw a tray on the nightstand near his old model cell phone with the white phone wrapped around it and the screen broken. While iy was working she would not buy another, she thought.
The tray was well-organized with a few round breads with small pieces of guava on top, her favorite candy, a cup of fresh coffee, with the right smoke coming from above, scrambled eggs with some herbs in the middle which she deduced to be some kind of deadly poison bacon, milk in a small jar, finally an apple and a bunch of purple grapes. This was the sight of a small banquet, at least for those who were accustomed to taking only two fingers of bitter coffee at the police station for breakfast. She thought about not eating, after all, she did not know if he was poisoned or not. But she thought better of it when she saw a note leaning against the milk jug that read in capital letters, written with a dark-blue pen with a thick tip:
“EAT”
Then the girl was in doubt: it was better to die poisoned with a full belly or be killed, then coldly and on an empty stomach. The first option seemed less bad. So she fed herself, a little of everything. Only the guava rolls that devoured them all were hot as if they had just come out of the oven.
Did he cook! Since she saw no trace of anyone else in the house besides him, he should have gotten up early to do all that, or even sleep. And how had he entered the room with the tray without waking her? she was a light sleeper, but Blade was lighter still, like an old, shrewd cat. She felt her face burn, imagining that he had seen her sleeping, God knows for how long.
She got up quickly and ran to the bathroom if she looked in the mirror, almost scared. Her hair was tangled and bulging like a feline after a fight, eyes swollen from the crying, dark circles around them. Now, besides being silly and clumsy, he had seen that in the morning she could be uglier than usual, but that was not quite his opinion when he looked at her sleeping like a lost angel in Blade Maldonado's hell.
He took advantage of the fact that he was in the bathroom and took a quick shower, looked for his clothes that were in the laundry basket. The uniform's blouse had more holes than cloth, and the pants had one or two tears on her leg, which could go very well for "it's in fashion." Then she dressed her, unfortunately she had no choice but to wear his shirt again, was that or come out naked from the waist up since she did not find the bra she was wearing the night before. She blushed not remembering to have taken it probably it was him who had taken it the while he fainted nor should have noticed anything ,after all her breasts were small and unattractive. Again she was wrong about his opinion.
She slipped on his old sneakers, imagining the disgusted face Blade would have made pulling them off his feet, thanking him for not remembering this sordid moment. He decided to leave in silence, to flee without Maldonado seeing her. It would be the best thing to do. He remembered that he saw an improvised ladder on the terrace facing the garage, it was an escape route. Before leaving he made up the bed and left a thank-you note on the back of the note he had left on the tray.
Once outside, after walking fifty yards, he took one last look at the house, the exterior was as rustic as the interior. It had all been built in a wooden frame with large glass windows in every room that went from floor to ceiling, even in the kitchen. From the plates on the roof the light was solar the scariest thing was that it was on the edge of a cliff. She clutched the newspaper package with what was left of the music box as if it were her shield she would repair it and return it someday. She turned on her cell phone to check the messages, had more than twenty, most of the threats from his father for having spent the night away from home without warning him before, but if she had, she would not have allowed it; some of her sister, another of her mother saying that she loved her and that she trusted her even though she did not spend the night at a friend's house. Maria Joaquim was a bit sensitive. She answered only the message of her friend Nayla, who was desperate because the Major had called her asking for her daughter, since she was at home and did not answer her calls, so she lied saying her friend was asleep. She reassured her that she was okay, not to worry that she would tell her everything in person, except the part of spending the night at a thug's house, of course.
Looked at the playlist for a relaxing song to listen to, the walk into town would be great. As she walked, she could feel the droplets of sweat running down her face. The sun burned on top of the mountains. Even with the loud sound coming into her ears, she shuddered at the sound of a slowing engine to slow her down. Jesse choked. It was a 1967 Bel Air Black Impala. God, he had a car just like the Winchester brothers, from his favorite Supernatural series. He thought the actor playing the role of Sam was funny, but Dean was such a charming temptation. Except that close to Blade they did not even tickle, realized obviously.
- Come on!
She hesitated. His expression was of few friends, and that made her paralyze without knowing what to do: run or enter hell and sit next to the devil.
-I will not order it again, - he exclaimed irritably. With no alternatives, she walked slowly toward him.
-I can´t believe I'm in a legitimate Impala! - She exclaimed in ecstasy as she sat down on the bench in the leather-covered upholstery, straightened, feeling as comfortable as she imagined, then began to chatter without stopping. - Built by the General Motors Chevrolet Division, introduced in 1958 original model, four-door, sporty, with more curves than its processor special finishing. His eyes watched her run the tips of her thin fingers over the glove compartment delicately, handsomely. Special chrome-plugs of incalculable price, this obviously cost a small fortune. What makes it so unique is the 384-cubic-inch V-8 engine, a true engine! Congratulations! It is well maintained! Bench with leather intact, radio running.-it was quietly tapping a song from the Metallica rock band, one of the most famous of the '80s. - Hydraulic steering, assisted brakes, special hubs, gearbox and shock absorber - concluded by thoroughly repairing each part of the vehicle.
Blade was shocked! She really understood the subject, after all, it was he who reformed the car and it was exactly the way she had described it.
He took his eyes off the road for a moment with utter disdain, if he had not been so handsome with those sunglasses with Armani's black and gold frame, he would have been nervous at his rude remark, but the sight of those thin lips reddish-colored in heart-shape took away his reasoning. It was the most striking thing on his face, after the indecipherable eyes, of course. At that moment he wore a black sailor's shirt, tight to the body and with short sleeves, worn jeans, and medium-barreled boots.
-Just because I do not understand makeup, does not mean I can´t understand cars, too, sir! -She called him that way just because she knew she did not like it.
- Fashion is not your forte either! - he rested his eyes on the trousers of the uniform almost twice as large.
Carter lowered his eyes, hurt. It was not the first time he'd heard it, but coming from it had hurt a thousand times more.
- What is it? - he asked with a suspicious arched eyebrow, pointing to the newspaper package on her lap. The poor girl trembled in fear not knowing what to say.
-I bought some grapes to eat on the way - she improvised with a yellow smile on her face. She huddled against the hitchhiker window, hated telling lies. She turned her face away, biting her lip, her lower lip ashamed to see the mountains farther apart. She knew he was watching her out of the corner of her eye.
In the middle of the way, his cell phone rang in surprise. Blade leaned against the asphalt to answer when he saw the name on the screen. Even his father, who was an extremely correct and cautious man, answered calls as he drove through the crazy Los Angeles traffic, and there was no car there.
- What happend, Mascot? -he said in a deep, strangely calm voice.
- How did you get back? -He looked worried, as if what he had heard had not pleased him at all. - Do not lie to me! You'll tell what happened one way or the other but not now. -He cast a cold glare over her, scary. - I'm busy, solving a problem. I'm not nervous about you boy, I just want to know what happened to come away suddenly. - His voice was calmer now, his face turned away.-"Later on, I and your brothers and I are going to have a serious talk with you, kid, at home, and depending on what you say, heads will roll. - He hung up, putting the car in motion again.