CAMILA POV
Fall is my favorite time of year. The brutal heat of the Texas summer had dissipated and left the air around pleasantly warm, and more comfortable than stifling. This was my third walk of the day. With nothing to do other than sit and worry over the kids, I preferred to be outside, moving, rather than sitting in the grungy halfway house.
I walked round the corner of the block again for the third time, I have grown familiar with the environment over the past several days, surprise I haven't worn a path into the sidewalk by now. There is a small park across the street. I considered stopping to watch the children play, but I kept going, knowing it will only dredge up memories that will make me cry.
I can't quite believe things have ended the way they did. I feel conflicted being away from the compound, empty in a weird way. The compound was all I know, but I have dreamt of leaving the overly strict compound for the last few years. I have become disillusioned with the whole Cartel way of life after my mother passed away four years ago. But there is certain things, and people, I will miss. I already miss the bustle of activity, always having someone to talk to. I thought of Dillon, the only other person my age, and I wonder where he is.
When the sun began to sink lower in the sky, I resigned myself to spending another night at the house. I have come to despise it for no other reason than how alone it makes me feel. I turn right at the corner, and to my surprise, I didn't recognize my surroundings. I have been so lost in thought, and over-confident in my ability to navigate, that I haven't paid attention to where I have wandered. I turn in a circle, searching out for a landmark, or street sign I will recognize; but unfortunately it is doing little good. I am lost.
I took a deep breath and willed myself to stay calm. But the façade lasted about two seconds. I have no one to call and don't even know the address of the house. I am completely and utterly alone. After growing up in a household with a dozen different women mothering me, the realization is a stark one. I have never been on my own. And I am already failing at it.
I wipe away the tears that have begun to escape my eyes. What will I do if I can't find the house again? The street had started with an L, hadn't it? I suppose I can go into a nearby shop and ask if they know of a halfway house close by. I will probably sound like a crazy person, but what other options do I have? I pull in a deep breath and regain some composure, then I look through the window of a convenience store. The guy at the counter meet my eyes, then stared straight at my boobs. Nope. Not going in there. Gaze cast down, I kept walking.
With the thud of my shoes against the sidewalk and the pounding rhythm of my heart guiding me, I continue on. The purr of a car engine lingered behind me. Not passing. Shoot. This isn't a great part of town to be alone in. What was I thinking? I quicken my stride, but the car keep pace.
A large black SUV stop alongside me. The dark tinted window lowered. A rush of panic wash over me, and tears sprang to my eyes.
"Camila?"
The rough male voice knows my name. I stumble to a halt and dared a glance in his direction. I am met with the concerned gaze of the CIA agent who had rescued me after the compound was raided. He is tall, and broad shouldered with dark hair, stubble dusting his jaw and his dark eyes were locked on me. I venture a step closer to his SUV. I don't know his name, or what he intends, but something in his dark gaze grip the very depths of me, and I just know instinctively that I can trust him. At least I hope I can. He didn't hurt me that night. His touch was strong, but gentle. I Summoned courage and turn to face him.
***
ALEX POV
I couldn't believe my luck that I spotted Camila on the way to the safe house.
Her face is streaked with tears and her eyes wild. Shit, she look scared. Have someone done something to her? The thought drives me nuts.
"Camila?" I repeated.
Without waiting for her to respond, I slam my gearshift into park and hop out, I cross the front of the SUV to stand before her.
I lift her chin, inspect her face and neck for marks, and grip her upper arms and then turn her in a circle, I look her over completely. She appear to be unharmed, so I don't understand why she is crying. "What happened?"
She swallowed and looked down at the sidewalk between our feet.
"Hey." I brush her hand with mine. "You remember me, right?" hoping she would
She meet my eyes and give me a hesitant nod. "What's your name?" she ask, with a nervous hitch in her voice.
"Alexander Coulson." I offer her my hand, and she slip her delicate fingers into my palm.
"Alexander," she repeated in barely a whisper.
"You can call me Alex. Everyone else does. Or Coulson, or Cole. You know, whatever…"
She grinned, more with her eyes than her mouth. My babbling has apparently score some points.
"Now tell me what's wrong," I push for an answer, even though I know I sounded like a commander but I need to know what has happened to her, manners aside.
"I went for a walk and got lost," she said simply.
I nearly sagged in relief. Thank fuck. That, I can fix. God, if something had happened to her, I don't think I could've handled it. Not with the worry that has been churning in my gut the last several days. "Come on, I can drive you back." I turn for the driver's side again, but she remained rooted to the sidewalk. I know I have to reassure her that she is safe with me, I return to the spot where she is standing and say to her in a hush tone. "You can trust me, okay?"
Her eyes flashed to mine. I'd forgotten how green they were. She squinted and blinked several times, as if she is deciding. It was cute. Without another word, she open the passenger door and climb inside.
My skin tingled, hyper-aware of just how close she is. She wore a pair of baggy jeans, torn at one knee and a long sleeved thermal tee, but the ill-fitting attire did nothing to temper the desire I feel. I grip the steering wheel tighter, my hands itching to fold her body against my own. Shit, my libido is out of control when it comes to this girl. Maybe I really do need a vacation. Somewhere with sand and lots of women in bikinis. Somewhere the hell away from her.
We didn't speak during the short ride back to the halfway house. I stop in front of the two-story, pale gray house flaking in paint. Both of our attention is captured by a group of guys sitting on the wide front porch, arguing loudly.
She fiddle nervously with the door handle, but make no move to exit the car.
"Listen, I don't have to take you back right away…we could grab a cup of coffee."
I saw relief washed over her face. "Yes." She said
There is no way I am sending her back inside that house just yet, so I took her to the nearby Café, after a moment of silence I attempted small talk, but mostly we just sat in comfortable silence. She seem distracted and somber. I wonder if she is counting down the minutes until she had to go back to that house, and I bet she is dreading going back there just as much as I am.
"Do you have any family you can stay with?" I asked.
A deep searing gaze communicated her need. My worst assumptions were proven correct , she is all alone. She swallowed and shook her head. "My mom passed away when I was fifteen, and I never met my father. I suppose I could find one of the women from Solano's Cartel, but I don't know…"
"Are you hungry? Have you eaten? We could get you something." I can't stop myself from peppering her with questions.
She keep her gaze cast down and shook her head. "I'm fine." She sat quietly in her seat, her thin fingers wound tightly around the coffee mug.
I wish there is something more I can do for her. I am not sure what to say or how to help, I just sat silently across from her and sip my coffee.
By the time we reached the house again, darkness have blanketed the sky. I shifted into park, and turn off the engine. "I'll walk you inside."
The house itself is large, but poorly maintained. The furniture is old and unmatched, the beige carpet stained and threadbare. I don't see much of the first floor, beyond a dingy living room, she led me upstairs. There were several closed doors along the long hallway. She stopped at the second door on the right. The key fumbled between her fingers, clanking against the wooden door. After three failed attempts to unlock it, I took the key from her trembling hand, and deftly opened the door.
The first thing I notice is the odor, the room smell like wet gym socks. She flipped on the light and took several steps into the room. A single narrow cot on the floor and a chair in the corner containing stray articles of clothing were the only furnishings.
Fuck. I can't just leave her here, can I? I asked myself
She step in closer and wrap her arms around my waist and I tuck her head under my chin. "Thank you," she whisper.
Her eagerness at physical contact surprises me, but I only hesitated a moment before I wrap my arms around her and pat her back, I hate that my attempts at soothing her is clumsy and awkward. I have never been good at this kind of thing: emotions, touchy-feely crap. Maybe my presence is enough to calm her. And although I don't know how to show it, I feel protective of her. I will never let anyone hurt her. If anyone so much as look at her the wrong way, I will knock them on their ass. I held her for several long minutes until the beating of her heart slowed to normal, and she backed out of my arms.
Our eyes flashed to one another's at the sounds of an argument going on in the next room. Angry voices carried through the thin walls. Another argument. We exchanged glances.
"Are you sure you'll be okay?" I asked with worry on my face.
She nod, looking solemn.
"Here's my card." I fish out my card from my wallet and place it in her trembling hand. "Call me if you need anything."
She remain silent, glancing at the card, running her thumb along the raised lettering.
"Lock your door when I leave, okay?"
She nod tightly, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth, as if there is something more she wants to say, but stopped herself.
I leave reluctantly, it is getting late, and as much as it pains me to leave her, I can't put it off any longer. I am already sure I am crossing some sort of professional line even being here. I wait outside the door until I heard the lock slide into place, the sound not nearly as reassuring as I would have hoped.
Once I was outside, I took a deep breath and scrub my hands across my face. The cooling blast of autumn air fill my lungs, but did nothing to return me to my senses. I climb inside my truck, grip the steering wheel until my knuckles were white, trying to will myself to start the engine and drive away from her.
***
CAMILA POV
The lock on my door did little to calm my nerves. I am freaking out, the deep, raspy voices of my male neighbors send shivers down my spine. I huddle in closer to the thin, scratchy blanket.
The unfamiliar sounds and smells of the house leaves me on edge and shaking. The brief interlude with Alex had helped, but now that I am back in the bleak reality of the tiny room again, an impending panic attack throbbed in my chest.
Growing up, I had to listen to Solano's crazy rants about sex being dirty and diseased, and men of the world being fueled by only their lust, this made me hyper-aware of the sounds in the rooms next to me. Their loud voices, crude glances, and grubby hands. Solano constantly drilled into me that men would only want me for one thing.
The realization strikes. I am alone. Totally and completely alone. Panic creeps in to the edges of my brain, but I fought it, holding the darkness at bay. Just barely. Think Camila. If I can go on after losing my mom, I can survive this, too. Don't have much choice.
My muscles tremble with the effort of lying still against the hard cot. I curled into a ball, hugging my knees to my chest, hoping it would sooth me. A loud whack against the wall made me jump. I sat up in bed as the pain in my chest build. I draw a slow shaky breath and say a silent prayer. I try not to break down again, but before I know it, hot tears is freely streaming down my cheeks. I wish Alex hadn't left. The only times I felt safe during the past week of this ordeal was when he was near.
I grab his card from the window sill and clutch it, crushing it to my heart. I wish I am stronger, I wish I don't break down so easily. But after another loud thump against the wall, I let out a whimper and clamored under the blankets. I glance at the door knob, the deadbolt still vertical, needing reassurance that the door is still locked.
I don't want to leave the safety of my bedroom, but my insistent bladder won't let me stay put. There are two bathrooms on the second floor, one is for women, the other for men. I have come to learn over the past few days, tenants use whichever is closest, and since I have the bad fortune of being surrounded on both sides by male tenants, I just know the so-called ladies room will be filthy and reek of urine. The other bathroom is probably no better.
Still clutching the card Alex gave to me, I crack open the door and peek both ways before tiptoeing towards the bathroom.
I made sure the toilet seat is clean before I relieve myself. Afterwards I stand to wash my hands in the sink, but I was startled at the pale haunted-looking girl watching me from the mirror, it has gotten to the point where my own reflection scares me.
The bulb above me flickered then died. The sudden darkness made my head swim. I suck in a deep breath and held it. My hands fumbled blindly in front of me, searching out the door. I hate the dark. Always had. My hands were still flailing in front of me, I begged myself not to panic.
I sway on my feet, blinking wildly against the darkness, trying to find my way out while also trying not to have a panic attack. Before I knew what was happening, I crash against the wall, and felt a sharp blow ache through the back of my skull immediately I collapsed to the ground.