I glance over at him. “He…didn’t deserve what happened to him. I’m sure everyone thinks it’s my fault. I know Patanza does. And it is. It’s all my fault.”
“I would not worry, Patrona. Shit happens.” He shrugs, as if it’s that simple.
“Draco blames me too. He hasn’t said it, but I know it’s in the back of his mind. He hasn’t spoken to me since they . . .” I swallow hard, and it hurts like hell to get it down. I take a sip of my rum to ease the gulp. “Since they shot him right in front of us.”
Emilio’s lips press thin, those bold green eyes hard on mine. With a heavy sigh, he says, “Relax, Patrona. Sleep. You need it. We won’t be on here for too long. Don’t worry about that right now. You’re safe.”
I pull my eyes away, sinking into the cushion of my chair. The jet is in the air now, the turbulence a bit rocky. Once it settles and the jet is flying smoothly, I finish off my drink and tuck my feet under my bottom. I try to sleep, but it’s fucking impossible. I shift and twist, squeezing my eyes shut, all of it to no avail.
When we’re in the clear to roam, Emilio stands and gives me privacy, but even with him gone, I can’t sleep.
About an hour into the flight, I hear the door Patanza closed slide open. I watch her turn the corner where the kitchenette is and pour something.
She steps around the corner with a cup of clear liquid on ice inside it. She takes the seat right across from me and I sit up, brows creasing, ready for her to blast me again.
“Relax,” she mutters. “I’m not allowed to hurt you…even though I really want to.” She sips her drink—vodka or tequila I assume—and then releases a sharp breath.
She slouches back in her seat, eyes closed. It’s the first time I’ve seen her drink alcohol, let alone let her guard down like this.
“I’ve had time to cool off,” she states.
I don’t speak. I don’t know what to say.
She finishes off her drink in a matter of seconds, and the ice clinks against the glass when she places it in her cup holder.
She lets out a long sigh. “Do you know how long you’ve been here? Around Jefe?”
My eyebrows dip. “I haven’t given it much thought.”
“Two months. We took you in June. It’s August 10th now.”
“Oh.”
“Jefe has never trusted anyone that fast—not within a two-month time frame.”
I blink quickly, putting my line of sight on something else. My chest feels tight and raw again.
“How do you know he trusts me?”
“Because he told me, idiota.”
My lips push together, and despite where we are and what we’re going through right now, my heart flutters.
“He said we were supposed to do whatever you needed—before all of this shit happened. He didn’t care that you walked the beach alone, or swam alone, or even if you wanted to go to town again. He would have let you because he knew then that you were smart and would return. He knew you weren’t going anywhere. He knew you weren’t stupid.”
I lower my gaze, focusing on my red fingernails. “He never should have trusted me.”
“No,” she scoffs in agreement. “He shouldn’t have.” I tilt my head, locking my eyes on hers. She picks up her glass, swirling the ice around. “You know, Thiago promised me something the day before he got caught.”
“He did?”
“Yes.” Her head drops, her black hair curtaining her face. “He promised he would take me away from here. He promised me I wouldn’t need to be a guard anymore. That we would run away together.”
Oh my God. I squeeze my seat belt, blinking rapidly. “Wait…I thought you guys hated each other.”
She looks beneath her eyelashes, shrugging a bit. “It’s…well, it was complicated.”
“How?” I ask, and when she drops her head and looks out the window, I see a side of Patanza I’ve never seen before.
Vulnerable.
Weak.
Lonely. I see now that she needs a friend. She wants to talk about it.
I unclip my seatbelt, sliding to the edge of my seat. “Patanza, tell me how.”
Her eyes slide over to mine. I can tell she doesn’t want to tell me, but that she would never confess this to any of the other guards. No, she wouldn’t confess this to any man—just another woman like me, who will understand all too well. I know how it is to suppress feelings for someone I shouldn’t care about.
“Thiago wasn’t the type to settle down,” she admits. “He only came around every few months, and whenever he did, we would hook up in private. We’d meet somewhere after hours and sort of hate-fuck.” She huffs a small laugh, like she remembers something funny. In a matter of seconds, her face is serious again. “But during his recent visit, I was trying to stay away from him. I didn’t want to hook up again because every single time he had to go, we would leave on a bad note. He would tell me all these things beforehand, about how he loved me, how he needed me, how I was unlike any woman he’d ever met, but after saying all that, he would be gone the next day, with no sort of goodbye. He would just leave, and wouldn’t get in touch with me while he was away. He knew I had my own phone. Draco gave him my number every time I had to swap my phone out, just in case he needed to reach out to one of us, but he never called it. Ever.”