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gothcsz · 3 months

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𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter XV.

GIF by azertyrobaz

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: A very eventful 4th of July celebration.

WORD COUNT: ~10.3k

RATING: 18+ Explicit topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: fluff i think? idk javi is working overtime here, some horny thoughts >:), kissing <3, descriptions of injuries and blood, if there's typos/grammatical errors just pretend that there's not, other things that i'm probably forgetting.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized.

A/N: first of all it's f*ck america we're just here for the vibes, okay. i had so much fun writing this, so i hope you all enjoy it as much as i did! 🎆 <3 as always feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or ao3. i'd really appreciate it <3

♰ read on ao3. ♰

♰ playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰

The sun shimmers on the surface of Lake Fraiser, casting reflections that dance across the water. The celebration is in full swing. The sound of laughter and cheerful conversations mixes with the sizzle of the grill and the occasional pop of a firecracker in the distance.

Paloma struggles up the steep wooden steps that lead to the kitchen, balancing a precarious stack of trays filled with the different desserts she’s made. Her arms strain under the weight, and she can feel the warmth of the summer sun annoyingly beating down on her. She pauses to readjust, narrowly avoiding the lemon bars from sliding off the top.

She’s been having quite a day. It began with a kitchen catastrophe that forced her to scrap and restart a batch of her treats. So, she had just told her father to go on without her, promising to join them later on.

Then came the clumsy misstep at the gas station, where she stumbled over her own two feet and badly skinned her knee. Now, with each step she takes, a stinging reminder pulses through her leg. The hastily applied bandaid, already starting to peel from her sweaty skin, offers little relief.

“Need some help with that?”

She glances up to see Javier, his brown eyes dotted with golden flecks. He’s holding a string of lights, his plain shirt and swim shorts an attractive sight, dark hair sexily tousled and slightly pushed back from his sunglasses sitting atop his head. She’s never seen him look this casual and it has both her heart and core throbbing.

“I’ve got it, thanks,” She replies, attempting to sound confident despite the wobbling trays.

His brows raise, setting the lights down on a nearby chair. “Are you sure? ‘Cause it looks like you’re about to start a dessert landslide.”

She huffs, her stubborn streak kicking in. “M’fine. Got it under control.”

He can’t help but smirk at her antics. “Y’know, there’s no shame in acceptin’ a little help. Especially when it comes with such a tempting offer for me.”

Paloma narrows her eyes playfully, lips curving into a teasing smile. “For you? Huh… so what’s this ‘offer’?”

“I get first dibs on these as a thank you.”

“Oh, is that all?” she replies, her voice laced with mock skepticism.

“Well, since you’re askin’, I was also hopin’ to pull you away later before the fireworks start,” he adds, his voice softer, more sincere.

Her cheeks redden, the warmth spreading through her in a way that has nothing to do with the summer heat.

She glances down at the trays, her resolve wavering as she meets Javier’s hopeful gaze again. His expression is earnest, full of an unspoken yearning, that she can’t help but give in.

“Yeah, alright, fine,” she concedes, “But only ‘cause it’s been a hectic day and I don’t want to be responsible for anyone missin’ out on dessert.”

He chuckles, a comforting sound that makes her feel like she’s buzzing. “Deal.” He reaches over and takes the containers, his fingers brushing hers.

The sensation has those pesky butterflies in her stomach fluttering, so she focuses on the task at hand to settle them.

“What’s in this one?” He asks with genuine curiosity as he peeks under the foil, walking alongside her as they go up the stairs.

“My pride and joy–– mini cherry pies. Had to restart ‘em this mornin’ but they came out so much better ‘cause of it.”

“How festive.”

“You know me. A true all-american girl.”

They put everything down on the counter once they’re in the kitchen and Paloma glances around, noticing how deserted the area is. The sisters are usually running around like headless chickens trying to make sure everything is perfect.

“Where is everyone?”

“Down by the lake,” Javier answers, nodding towards the large window over the sink that offers a panoramic view of the property.

The lawn is dotted with clusters of people, a lively tapestry of decorations in reds, whites, and blues celebrating the holiday. Children race across the grass, their joyous laughter mingling with the distant sounds of splashing water and excited chatter. Paddle boats and kayaks glide smoothly across the lake’s surface.

The sight is almost idyllic, a perfect summer day.

“They were gettin’ worried. Supposed to have been here hours ago.” He leans his hip against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest and the pull of his triceps has that damn t-shirt accentuating how toned he is.

And his forearms. She could pass out right now. The sight of his veins protruding against the skin is so attractive.

“Yeah, don’t remind me. Hit a few bumps along the way but m’here now. Better late than never, yeah?” She busies herself setting everything she’s brought out neatly, oblivious to the way his eyes rake over her body.

She’s wearing a Team USA t-shirt from the 1984 Olympics. Lola got it for her when she flew out to Los Angeles to watch the games. To Paloma, it was the coolest thing ever, and it quickly became her go-to patriotic shirt. The soft, worn fabric clings to her comfortably, and the faded red, white, and blue logo gives it some personality.

He’s always loved how the denim mini skirt hugs her curves, showcasing those beautiful legs that he wants to caress and touch on. It rides up high on her thighs, hinting at the white bathing suit underneath, glimpsed briefly when she bends over.

There’s also something about a woman in a pair of boots. It’s definitely the Texan in him that finds it sexy.

Javier reminds himself to keep the staring respectful and to a minimum. But it’s very difficult to when she’s walking around looking like that.

To beat the heat, she’s clipped her hair up and it naturally styled in a very Pamela Anderson-esque updo, a few stray pieces framing her face.

“What happened to your knee?” He can’t help but ask, eyeing the flesh wound and how the bandaid was literally hanging on by a thread.

“My clumsiness struck again. Tripped on my way to pump gas. Dunno what was more embarrassin’–– the actual trippin’ or how a family of five watched the whole thing happen from ‘cross the parkin’ lot. Swear they got a kick out of it.”

He laughs and she smiles softly, the warmth in her eyes mirroring his own fondness.

“I’ll go look for a first aid kit to help with that.”

“You don’t have to, s’not not that bad.” Just as she says this, she accidentally bumps her knee against the counter and hisses at the pain, some fresh blood now dripping down her leg.

“I’ll be right back,” Javier pushes himself off the counter and disappears to the nearest bathroom to retrieve what he needs. She’s kind of relishing in his newfound motivation to stay in her good graces.

When he returns, he guides her to sit on one of the stools, his touch gentle yet firm as he carefully cleans the wound. She flinches slightly at the sting of the alcohol wipe, but his reassuring grip on her calf and the soothing circles he rubs against her skin help ease the discomfort.

“You okay?”

“Mhm,” she hums, captivated by how handsome he looks while he’s concentrated, the pain now eclipsed by the tingles that follow his touch.

Brows are pulled together, mouth slightly parted, and tongue just barely poking out… he looks so dreamy.

After bandaging her up, he discards of the used materials and stands. “All set.”

“Thanks, doctor. I can walk again,” she jokes and he shakes his head with a playful smile, heading to the sink to wash his hands.

“Gotta finish stringing up some lights, but your dad’s down there by the deck.”

Paloma nods appreciatively, now eager to immerse herself in the day’s celebrations.

“Thanks for helpin’ me out. Hopefully Tammy ‘n them don’t have you workin’ all day,” she quips, half-serious about the women’s tendency to enlist any man around to do the heavy lifting.

“No problem, querida,” he replies softly, the endearment rolling off his tongue in a way that makes her heart skip a beat. “And it’s too late for that, but I don’t mind. Keeps me busy.”

“It’s a party not an odd job.”

“Still, it makes me feel useful.”

They part ways after that, Paloma hurrying back to her car to retrieve her tote bag with her essentials for the day. She joyfully bounds down the wooden steps, greeting familiar faces with warm hellos as she makes her way towards the deck.

There’s people everywhere, a much bigger turn out than last year.

Near the shoreline, a group of teenagers play an animated game of volleyball, their shouts of encouragement and friendly competition echoing over the water. Further down, clusters of people lounge on brightly colored towels and beach chairs, dipping their toes in the cool lake or floating lazily on inflatable rafts shaped like flamingos and unicorns. Paddle boats and kayaks drift leisurely, their occupants waving and calling out to those on the shore.

The deck of the lake house is a hive of activity, with adults congregating around coolers. Long tables covered with American flag tablecloths are laden with an array of delicious foods. The hum of conversation and bursts of laughter create a symphony of summer joy, a fitting soundtrack, she thinks.

“There she is.”

She’s greeted by her father and the sisters from the bar, all four of them lounging around one of the picnic tables.

“Sorry m’late. Had a crazy mornin’.” She leans in to kiss each woman on the cheek before turning to hug her father, who’s nursing a Corona in his hand.

“Not any crazier than your daddy attemptin’ to grill again. Almost blew himself to pieces.”

They share a laugh at Romeo’s expense, falling into small talk as she makes herself comfortable against the benched seat of the table, slipping on her sunglasses and plucking a slice of watermelon from the large plate at the center.

“S’alotta folks here. Like, the whole damn county it seems.” She observes, scanning the crowd and taking a refreshing bite of the fruit.

“People need community after everythin’ thats been plaguin’ all the towns. Somethin’ lighthearted to keep morale high.” They all agree in a quiet murmur, the air shifting as the conversation gets solemn for a split second, but it’s quickly brought back on track when they’re approached by a few regulars from the bar.

Her gaze drifts off then, catching Javier’s silhouette from the distance as he helps a few teens reel in a small boat.

He’s so broad yet lean. She wonders if he’s been working out recently. The sun makes his brown skin glisten, his red shirt a darker shade in some spots where sweat dampens the cotton. She’s having a good time eyeing his exposed legs, since he’s always wearing those tight ass jeans or in uniform.

The swim trunks leave little to the imagination. They cling to his narrow waist and wide thighs. She can’t help but ogle how the fabric hugs his ass, licking her lips.

She pours herself a glass of sweet tea, the cool liquid quenching her thirst. Both literally and figuratively. Watching him stirs something deep within—a mix of arousal for his physicality and a longing that almost breaches her boundary of not rushing things.

As she sips her tea, her eyes continue to linger, imagining the feel of his strong arms around her, the warmth of his body close to hers. She didn’t get to really enjoy him the first and only time she’s taken him.

While it had massacred her heart afterwards— she swears she’s never felt as pleasured as she did when he was fucking her. Not even with August, and their sex was great.

Now all she can really focus on is him, moving effortlessly by the water’s edge, unaware (or very aware) of the effect he has on her. She’s completely tuned out of the conversations at their table.

“He’s a real cutie, ain’t he?” Kristy’s voice cuts through Paloma’s reverie, pulling her away from her ogling. She blushes when she notices the knowing simper on her face.

“Who?” doing a piss poor job of playing it cool, Paloma reaches for more sweet tea.

“Don’t play dumb with me, girl, you know who m’talkin’ ‘bout.”

Her blush deepens, “Suppose he is…”

“He’s got that ruggedness like them cowboys from old western movies. Makes ya wanna saddle up and take him for a ride.”

Paloma laughs loudly, scrunching her nose. “Geez why dontcha tell me how ya really feel.”

“Oh darlin’, the interest for men bus has long departed from this station. M’sayin’ it ‘cause of you.”

“Me?” She chokes on her drink, caught off guard by the directness.

“Yes you. I’ve seen the way you act around him. ‘N not just today, either. You’re crushin’ hard, sister.”

If only she knew the full extent of the fuckery between them. But also… was her attraction really that obvious?

Duh. You’re always staring at him like a teenage girl does with her celebrity crush.

“Yeah, well, like you said. He’s cute and all but…”

“But…?” Kristy prompts, leaning in with interest.

“Look, I didn’t come here to get grilled, alright? That’s the food’s job,” she deflects playfully, standing from her spot and stretching her limbs.

“Oh, you’ve got it bad—don’t ya?” Kristy’s voice carries a teasing lilt as she leans in conspiratorially. “S’okay, pretty girl, secret’s safe with me. Though I’d reckon you should claim your territory ‘fore your girlfriend swoops in ‘n snatches your hunk.”

She juts her chin up to signal for Paloma to look over and when she does, the smile on her face drops.

It’s Sloane, standing there with her back turned, chatting with Javier. She can’t see her face, but the silhouette is unmistakable.

Jealousy prickles beneath her skin, green swims in her brown eyes. The sight of them together stirs a wave of unease and insecurity within her.

“Gonna go use the restroom,” she mutters suddenly, excusing herself before Kristy, who is somewhat amused by this little drama that’s unfolding before her, can respond.

She briskly walks off towards the house. Each step feels weighted with uncertainty, her mind racing with thoughts of what might transpire if she looks back and sees something that’ll confirm her fears.

Let this moment be a test, a chance to see if he will follow through on his promises and stay true to his word.

“Long time no see, officer. Haven’t got worked up again or did ya find someone to replace me?” Sloane bats her lashes up him, a playful smirk playing on her lips as she pinches the lower between her teeth.

He glances at her briefly, his expression unreadable, before side-stepping her entirely and heading towards the deck. He needs another beer and cigarette—quickly, and to distance himself from her unexpected presence.

“Oooh, cold shoulder. Knew you were harsh but seein’ it in practice... s’kinda hot,” She calls after him, her voice carrying a hint of amusement and challenge.

Javier halts abruptly, a surge of irritation flashing across his features. He looks around, ensuring no one is paying attention to their exchange, before turning back to face her. His tall frame towers hers, his jaw clenched with restrained frustration.

“Dunno what you think this is but I’m tellin’ you right now it’s nothin’ but a big fucking mistake,” He retorts sharply, his voice low but firm, leaving no room for misunderstanding.

Her expression wavers slightly, a mix of surprise and defiance crossing her features. She meets his gaze steadily, own demeanor shifting to match his intensity.

“You weren’t sayin’ all that when I was ridin’ your cock in the cab of your truck.” She shoots back, her tone laced with an edge, intended to provoke.

And it does. Javier knows he shouldn’t let her get under his skin like this—it’s exactly what she wants. But he can’t help it, especially not with Paloma nearby. He’s putting in every ounce of effort to mend things between them, to make things right. He won’t allow Sloane to fuck that up for him.

His jaw ticks again and he leans in closer, voice dropping to a hoarse whisper. “You are nothing special. All you’re good for is spreading your legs, said it yourself. A distraction that likes bein’ used,” the words drip maliciously from his tongue, “This,” he motions between them, “doesn’t exist. It never fucking happened.”

He holds her gaze for a moment longer, his resolve like steel in his dark eyes. Without another word, he walks away with purposeful strides.

Sloane stands there, seething silently, her expression twisting into a petulant scowl, like a spoiled child denied a treat. Her hands ball into fists at her sides, nails digging into her palms as she fights the urge to lash out. They’re quickly losing control over the situation and that pisses her off. If only August had listened to her.

Meanwhile, Paloma stuffs a piece of dessert into her mouth, using the sweetness to distract herself from the interaction between Javier and Sloane.

She’d been half tempted to watch it unfold from the window, but kept herself from doing so. It just felt odd.

“Hey, little dove.” August’s southern twang breaks through her thoughts, and she sees him leaning against the doorway that leads from the kitchen to the foyer.

Great, she thinks wryly. If Sloane’s here, then August is sure to follow. Or the other way around. She scans the room, half-expecting to spot Gabriel lurking in a corner somewhere.

“Hey, August,” she greets, her tone guarded. She wants to ask him what he’s doing here, but it’s a public event, and the question feels futile. “What’s up?”

“Haven’t heard from ya in weeks…” his voice is veiled with frustration.

“Okay, and?” She responds curtly, own irritation evident as she wipes at the corner of her mouth where some icing has smeared.

His gaze narrows and he walks over to her, reaching out to firmly grasp her wrist and pulling her towards a more secluded area of the house.

“What the fuck are you doin’?!” Paloma whispers sharply, tugging away from his grasp with annoyance etched across her face.

“So that’s it, huh? You jus’ not gonna talk to me anymore?”

No, she intended to have a civil conversation with him and properly address their situation. But she hasn’t found the right time or the emotional fortitude to do it yet.

She stands uncomfortably before him as his upset gaze pins her in place.

“Don’t be ridiculous, ‘course I was gonna talk to you.” She crosses her arms against her chest, “I just wasn’t ready to but since you’re here with the intention of gettin’ some typa answer outta me…” Trailing off, she wracks her brain trying to think of the right words to say. “I think s’best if we just… go our separate ways.” She’s never had to break up with anyone before, so she’s totally winging it.

“Separate ways?” He repeats, words edged with disbelief and a hint of offense. “You really gonna say that? After everythin’ we’ve been through. After all I’ve shown you.”

She swallows hard, her chest tightening at the confrontation. “While I’m thankful for all that, I’ve decided s’best for me to let my momma’s past stay in the past. She had her secrets, ‘n now I get to have mine.” She tries to keep her voice steady, clearing her throat and shifting her weight uneasily between her feet.

“Really, it’s all been… eye openin’ and amazin’,” well not everything but she won’t get hung up on the technicalities. Her words remain careful yet firm, “And sometimes I still can’t believe s’all true… b-but m’just not cut out for all that. I’m sorry I can’t be the person you want me to be.” The person you think I am.

The silence that follows is uncomfortable, almost suffocating, in the small spare bedroom he’s pulled them in. She’s partially relieved they’re not having this conversation out in the open, especially not with Javier and her father nearby.

“So that’s it then? Got me showin’ you all your true potential for months just so you can break my heart like this,” He finally speaks, with pure resignation dripping from his tongue.

True potential? Her face twitches at that, unsure of what to make of it.

“The last thing I wanna do is hurt you,” she replies softly, ready for this to be over, “but I can’t, in good faith, continue this. It’s too much for me.”

She still thinks about what’d he said the last time they were together; how that old man was supposed to be an offering. How can he say things like that then get upset when people compare his group to a cult?

That possibility flits through her mind too fast for her to actually ponder it, too focused on the look he’s giving her now.

His blue eyes search hers, seeking any hint of doubt or regret. Yet Paloma meets his gaze with unwavering conviction, and he realizes he’s lost her for good.

“Is this really what you want?” He asks after the long pause.

“Yes,” she replies, quietly but firmly.

“What about Slo?”

She can’t help the pinched expression she gives, “What about her?”

“She’s gonna be real upset when she finds out you’re out.”

Ugh, cry me a river. “Yeah, well, I realized that maybe we weren’t as close as I thought. Been meanin’ to talk to her too but m’sure you can pass the message along.”

Because if she has to see her face to face, Paloma has no idea how she’s going to react.

There’s more silence as he takes in her shift in priorities. He chuckles wryly, “‘Kay… fine. Hope you don’t regret this.”

Paloma can’t quite place his tone, all she knows is that it stirs unease at the pit of her stomach, but she just remains quiet. It doesn’t matter how the aftermath makes her feel, she knows this is the right decision.

He’s gone in the blink of an eye and she’s left alone in the room, feeling a little lighter but also needing a few minutes to collect herself.

She won’t let this ruin her day. She’s been looking forward to being here all week and is dead set on having a good time.

When she finally rejoins everyone else on the deck, she spots Javier among their small group, smoking a cigarette. Relief washes over her, knowing he’s here and not off elsewhere in someone else’s company. Call her selfish, but she’s on a new path of allowing herself to take what she wants for once. And right now, the thing she really wants is his undivided attention.

She waves her father goodbye as he drives off to work, unfortunately not being able to stay the entire night. It’s later in the evening now, sun moving lazily across the sky, yet the heat remains relentless.

The cool lake water looks inviting, but she still feels uneasy from the nightmare she had a few weeks ago. Lingering dread nags at her, and although she knows she shouldn’t overthink it, she can’t help it.

“Ready to sneak off yet?” Javier’s breath is warm against her neck as he comes up behind her, sending a cascade of goosebumps across her skin. She does her best to hide just how reactive she is to him.

“Wasted no time, did you?” She turns her head to look at him, a small yet teasing smirk playing on her lips.

“Gotta have some respect. Can’t be going after a pretty girl in front of her dad like that. Especially when he’s carrying a loaded gun. Who am I, Jonah Abbott?”

She giggles, scrunching her nose. “Nice one. M’surprised he isn’t here. He loves a good party and bein’ the center of attention.”

“Missing him already?”

She nudges him with her elbow, “Never that.”

“Then we better get goin’ before he shows up. He’s got a penchant for appearin’ when mentioned.”

“And where exactly are we goin’?”

“Just to the other side of the lake. Not that far of a walk. I was over there this morning.”

Paloma hums, glancing at the large crowd of people scattered about before nodding. “Okay. Let me go grab my things.”

As she walks off, Javier feels a knot of nervousness tighten in his stomach. As much as he’s been wanting to spend some alone time with her, he’s anxious about what that might bring. Would he fuck up and say the wrong thing, driving her away? Would she realize that she actually wants nothing to do with him?

Every interaction they’ve had today has been great, so he’s off to a good start, and he’s enjoying being around her and everyone else. It’s the first time in a long time that he’s felt this... normal. It’s an odd feeling, but he’s learning to embrace it rather than reject it.

She returns with her bag, slinging it over her shoulder. “Ready?”

He nods, offering her a reassuring smile despite his inner doubts. “Ready.”

They begin their walk, the sounds of laughter and splashing water fading behind them as they move towards the quieter side of the lake. The path is shaded by tall trees, offering some respite from the heat.

The tension in Javier’s shoulders eases, and he finds himself relaxing, if only slightly.

“So, what’s over on this side?” She asks, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Just a nice spot. Thought it’d be perfect for us to spend some time alone together, away from all the noise.”

She smiles, her eyes gleaming with admiration. “Sounds perfect.”

They continue on, their conversation flowing easily. It’s actually kind of scary how they’re able to slip back into this normalcy. Making small talk as if they haven’t spent the last however long at each other’s throats.

The sun dips lower in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the body of water. By the time they reach their destination, Javier feels those nerves from before wash away entirely. He spreads out a blanket he had stashed nearby, and they sit down, the gentle lapping of the water against the shore providing a soothing ambiance.

Paloma leans back, closing her eyes and soaking in the tranquility of the moment. “This is nice,” she murmurs.

“Yeah, it is,” he agrees, watching her with a gentle smile.

They enjoy the peace and quiet for a minute. He knows there’s still a lot to figure out, but right now, he really is content with taking it one step at a time.

“Slo and August were here earlier.” She doesn’t know why, but the words tumble out, her curiosity compelling her to open one eye and glance over at him, gauging his reaction.

Javier scoffs, irritation blooming at the mention. “Yeah. Had the unfortunate pleasure of runnin’ into her. Did nothing but try and piss me off.” He works the gum in his mouth as he looks out into the distance, then he asks, “You talk to your boy toy?”

Paloma rolls her eyes. “Talkin’ to him right now,” she teases, unable to resist. His lips pull into a small smirk as he continues staring out at the water, his side profile illuminated by the warm light, jaw flexing and tensing with every chew. God, he looks so hot.

“But if you must know,” she continues, “I did. Told him things between us were over.”

He’s fucking relieved and happy to hear that. “Good.”

“Good?” She cocks a brow at him and he turns to face her again, leaning back on his forearms. She shifts to turn her body, propping her weight on her elbow, their faces now closer together.

“Can’t make this work if you’ve got a man.”

She hums in response, her eyes lingering on his pouty lips.

Javier’s smirk widens, and he leans in, just barely, minty breath fanning against her skin. “You know, querida, you drive me crazy.”

She runs her tongue across her lower lip, her heart racing. “Good,” she echoes, her voice barely a whisper.

The world around them seems to fade away as the electricity between them intensifies. The lake, the sun, the party in the distance—all of it becomes irrelevant compared to the undeniable chemistry they share.

“C’mon, let’s get in the water,” Javier says suddenly, standing and pulling his shirt over his head, revealing a fit and chiseled torso. He kicks off his shoes, and Paloma has to bite her lip at the sight of him.

Yup, he’s definitely been working out. His defined, broad shoulders and the tantalizing trail of hair on his belly make her pulse quicken. The swim trucks fit very snugly against his bulge.

“You just gonna admire or…?” He smirks yet again, catching her stare, and she scoffs playfully, rising from her spot and undressing herself.

Her white bathing suit is a little more modest than what she would usually wear, but it still showcases her curves in a way that has his brain short circuiting. His eyes trace the scar over her hip which only adds to the allure.

Javier’s mind races back to that night they hooked up. How he wishes he could redo it, not just to avoid the mess he caused afterwards, but to keep from rushing through it.

He’s typically all about filthy and quick fucks, but with her, he wants it to be different.

He wants to take his time, discover the spots she likes to be kissed and caressed at, to hear her pretty moans and pants of his name while his tongue maps out every inch of her.

“You just gonna admire or…?” She repeats his words, unclipping her hair and it cascades over her shoulders. The soft mahogany waves glow beautifully in the oranges and purples of the sunset.

“Guess we both have a staring problem,” he replies, unable to tear his eyes away.

Paloma steps closer. “Guess we do,” she mutters, a playful glint in her eyes.

“Race you?”

“You’re on.”

They both take off running toward the small dock a little further down, but as they get closer, she begins to feel more of that apprehension from earlier, slowing her steps.

The dock seems to stretch endlessly, the water around it looking darker and more ominous than before. Her throat runs dry and the rocky ground beneath her feet feels like it’s anchoring her in place.

Relax, it was just a dream you had weeks ago. Get over it. She repeats over and over, but still doesn’t move from her spot.

Javi reaches the end of the narrow structure, turning back to her with a carefree smile that falters when he sees her standing still.

“You okay?” He asks, brows furrowing slightly with concern.

“Y-Yeah, it’s just,” she stammers, feeling a bit childish, “I had a weird nightmare a few weeks ago involvin’ water, and it’s just spookin’ me a little right now.”

His expression softens as he walks back to her. “Hey, it’s alright,” he tells her gently, “We don’t have to get in if you don’t want to.”

Paloma takes a deep breath, “No, I want to,” she insists, her voice a little stronger. “I just needed a moment.”

He nods, understanding as ever, “‘Course, whenever you’re ready.”

She takes a tentative step forward, then another, until they’re walking side by side.

When they reach the end, he looks over at her reassuringly. “You sure you’re fine?”

Paloma nods, her apprehension disappearing with every step they took. “Yup.”

“You don’t have to act like you are. It’s okay if you—”

She cuts him off by suddenly pushing him into the water, laughing loudly in triumph.

He resurfaces, wet hair obscuring his vision and he pushes it back with his thick fingers. “Eres traviesita, nena (you’re naughty, baby). I’ll let it slide on account of your little bad dream.”

She rolls her eyes playfully. “Got no choice but to, cowboy.”

Now it’s her turn to dive in, taking few steps back to get a running start. As she breaks the surface, a sense of exhilaration washes over her, the weight of her nightmare gone.

“See?” he says, treading water beside her. “Nothin’ to be scared of.”

She grins, feeling better already. “Thanks, Javi. I needed that. Been avoidin’ the water all day ‘cause of it.”

“Anytime,” he replies, his voice warm and sincere and he likes hearing her call him Javi.

They float and swim around, taking turns doing cannonballs and plunging into the water. It’s as if they’ve reverted to childhood, joking around and teasing each other relentlessly, scoring dives and seeing who can make a bigger splash.

It’s always him. Him and his stupid, attractive broadness.

They’re carefree, relishing the pinch of privacy they’re able to share without the prying eyes of nosy neighbors. Javier imagines a future where they don’t have to sneak around, where he can proudly have her on his arm, showing the world what she means to him.

The sun fully sets, just barely illuminating the now night sky. “There’s a canoe back on shore I want to take you out on.”

She’s floating on her back as he says this, her eyes fluttering open to look over at him. “You’re pullin’ out all the stops today, aren’t ya?” she says, starting to swim over to where he is with a cheeky grin.

“Is it too much?” He feels a tinge of insecurity. Is he overcompensating?

“If you were anyone else… maybe. But you’re not. You’re… you.” She doesn’t need to explain any further. He doesn’t need her to.

Back on shore, he swiftly gets the canoe into the water and climbs in, extending his hand to help her. She’s a little wobbly at first but manages finally, taking a seat on one of the slats as he begins to row them towards the center of the lake.

They can see the lake house in the distance, its glow from the strung-up lights twinkling. There’s the faint sounds of firecrackers and the flashing of some sparklers that is oddly comforting to her.

“Got the best view out here. Skies are clear tonight, too,” he says, looking up. She follows his gaze, stars littered along the black sky.

The first firework is set off, bright colors exploding in the air with a loud boom.

She’s captivated by it, her eyes wide with awe, while his focus remains entirely on her. Always so beautiful, he pinches himself subtly to ensure this isn’t some dream. The fireworks cast a kaleidoscope of colors over her face, highlighting the joy and wonder in her expression.

Women like Paloma are a rare treasure. They often find themselves with people who dim their spirit or buried in places like Seminary. It’s why he has to change, to be better for himself. But most importantly, for her. She deserves everything—the world, the universe. He’ll do whatever it takes to give it to her.

“Oh my god, that one looks like there are stars explodin’ from it!” She exclaims, pointing excitedly at a particularly dazzling firework.

He finally tears his gaze from her, following her finger to the sky where a large burst of sparks erupts. The explosion of light is breathtaking, but nothing compared to the woman beside him.

“Yeah, it’s pretty amazing,” he murmurs, though his eyes drift back to her. The illuminations dance across her features in a way that makes his heart burn with a fierce protectiveness and desire.

She catches him staring and grins, tilting her head. “You’re not even watchin’ the fireworks.”

“I’m watching something even more beautiful,” he replies smoothly and earnestly. His flirting makes her giggle, having her look away bashfully.

“Smooth talker,” she teases, but there’s no denying the pleasure his words bring her. Even if they’re simple and cliché as all hell. She shifts closer to him, the canoe rocking gently beneath them. The proximity is intoxicating, warmth radiating from their damp bodies as her naked thigh brushes against his.

“Just tellin’ the truth,” he replies, his hand finding hers. Their fingers intertwine, and the touch sends electric sparks through both of them, more charged than any firework.

“I’d be a fool not to appreciate what’s right in front of me.”

Paloma feels the intensity of his gaze, his eyes roaming her face as if memorizing every detail. They both can feel the pull, the magnetic attraction that has always been there.

“Seems to me you’ve been a fool once or twice before,” she says, leaning in so their noses nearly touch. “But you’re not too bad yourself.”

Oh yeah, a giant fool. Big-fucking-time.

He gives her a lazy smile, the playfulness returning to his eyes. “Not too bad, huh? I think I can work with that.”

As the fireworks continue, the sky lights up with a magnificent display, but neither looks away from the other. The booms and crackles become nothing but background noise to the silent conversation happening between their locked gazes.

They often find themselves communicating through just looks.

“I’m really glad you gave me another chance.” He voices softly.

“Me too,” she replies, matching his timbre, heart pounding in her chest. “Even if it was really hard for me to.”

“I know it was. It’s why I’m really tryin’ to prove to you that I’m serious about us.”

“Serious enough to tell my daddy?”

They sit in silence for a moment.

“When the right time comes, yes.” He’ll face Romeo, he has to if he wants to be with her. And fuck, does he.

His thumb gently strokes her knuckles, and she squeezes his fingers in response, a wordless acknowledgment of their shared feelings.

“Let’s head back. Don’t need you freakin’ out over a water snake or somethin’,” Javier says with a teasing grin, the memory of the night he snuck her back home coming to the forefront of his mind.

Paloma scoffs, pulling back from him with a roll of her eyes as he begins to row them back to shore. “Don’t ever let me find out somethin’ stupid you’re afraid of. M’never gonna let you hear the end of it.”

He chuckles in response, shrugging his shoulders. “Have fun tryin’ to figure that out.”

As soon as the canoe touches the shore, she hops off before he can securely dock it, walking out until the water is at her waist before submerging herself in it.

Javier anchors the boat and goes after her, flashing her a confused expression when she resurfaces. “Figured you wouldn’t want to be in the water when it’s so dark out.”

She runs her hands across the wet surface, looking up at the sky again; different fireworks painting the empty canvas and reflecting against the water.

“The dream I had…” She begins, “I was walkin’ along the bank of a swamp then suddenly I’m goin’ under. It’s all muddy and gross and thick–– m’strugglin’ to find somethin’ to get me out when I see it. A fuckin’ gator comin’ at me.” She shivers, the eyes of the reptile flashing across her mind, making her grimace. “The panic I felt… the fear, it was so real.”

Javier is quiet, his attention fully on her. He can see her expression, illuminated each time sparks burst above.

“Then I saw someone on land. A savior.” She pauses, tilting her head to look at him, “It was you.”

His fingers twitch at his sides and he swallows thickly, remaining silent with an unwavering gaze.

“I called out for you and you came, about to pull me out but then…” She shakes her head, looking down at the dark water. “S’like you changed your mind. Left me there ‘n the alligator got me. I woke up terrified and immediately threw up.”

Now he grimaces, feeling a deep pang of guilt. Even in her dreams he’s betraying her. He moves closer, gently urging her to look up at him. When she does, he leans forward, tenderly brushing some wet hair from her face. “I am so sorry,” he whispers, not knowing what else to say.

Her eyes search his with a small, sad smile. “S’okay, was only a dream. Jus’ wanted to tell ya about it.”

He hesitates, feeling a strong urge to be vulnerable with her, to share his own fears. He takes a deep breath, pushing away his timidness before speaking up. “I get bad dreams too. Different, but they leave me shook up just the same. Can barely sleep most nights.”

Her eyes widen a little in curiosity. “What about?”

“There was someone… back in Colombia. She was a working girl that a lot of the sicarios sought out. She became my informant, giving me valuable information in exchange for a life here in the States with her son.” His voice is low as he begins to explain.

“The lines blurred along the way. We both started catching feelings,” her breath is shaky but she listens to him with the same attentiveness in which he had listened to her, “and just when I was on the verge of figuring us out and getting a notable arrest under my belt–– they fuckin’ took her. Beat her. Assaulted her. I showed up too late. The damage had been done.” He stops, jaw clenching at the memory of that night.

The image of Helena so broken is seared into his mind. The bullet he had put in the guard’s head did nothing to erase the guilt or ease her suffering.

“That’s the nightmare that haunts me most. The one where I relive that night over and over again. The dread of not knowing where she was, the panic of storming the building, the pain of seeing what they’d done to her… the shame of knowing she was there because of me. Her and her son were put into witness protection after that, and I never saw her again.”

Paloma’s heart aches, feeling terrible for all the things she said to him in the back of his cruiser. He’s been through some unfathomable shit, and here she is, throwing it back at him because of her hurt feelings.

She grabs ahold of his hand under the water, tugging him closer. “It’s not your fault, Javi.”

“But it was my operation—”

“That’s irrelevant. You could’ve devised the perfect plan ‘n still, somehow, life woulda found a way to fuck it up.”

He just stares down at her, the moonlight and fireworks making her glow almost ethereally.

“You gotta forgive yourself for that eventually. S’the only way to get the nightmare to stop.” Easier said than done, but it’s good for him to hear this. He needs to hear this. “Bad shit was gonna happen whether you wanted it to or not. You did what you thought was right, ‘n y’all were always playin’ a dangerous game dealin’ with those folks... from the sounds of it, she was always in harms way.”

Funny how she ended up being the one to console him despite that being the opposite of his intention.

Silence envelops them as he mulls over her words and the look she’s giving him—compassionate, understanding, resolute. Her eyes, brimming with empathy, seem to penetrate the walls he’s built around his heart.

He takes a deep breath, feeling exposed. “You really believe that?”

“I do,” she replies firmly, squeezing his hand. “You can’t carry that guilt forever. You did everything you could.”

Exhaling loudly, he breaks the tension. “How much do you charge per hour?”

Paloma snorts with a shake of her head, splashing him lightly. “More than you can afford.”

Javier quirks an eyebrow playfully. “You sure about that?”

“Positive,” she smirks, leaping out of his reach when he lunges forward in mock pursuit. Her playful giggles ring out, a melody that echoes across the quiet night now that the fireworks were done for.

It doesn’t take long for him to close the distance between them, his hands finding her hips and pulling her close. She spins in his arms, turning to face him, her hands resting atop his that hold her waist.

“Why are you lookin’ at me like that?” she questions lightly, studying his handsome face.

“Like what?” he counters, his eyes tracing the curve of her cupid’s bow.

“Like you wanna kiss me.” she teases further, her hands sliding up to rest gently against his wet chest.

“‘Cause I do. Real fuckin’ bad, actually,” he confesses with desire, but also a hint of restraint.

Her breath catches slightly, she can feel his heart thudding beneath her fingertips.

“What’s stoppin’ ya?”

“Trying not to move too fast,” he admits, his grip on her hips tightening ever so slightly, gaze locked on hers with an intensity that matches the flickering stars above.

She hums, tilting her head to the side then pointing her chin up to look at him. Even in the dark, she’s mesmerized by his inviting brown eyes, the silver light giving them this distinct glint that has her heart racing.

“Please do it.”

And he does, as soon as the words leave her mouth he’s leaning in to kiss her slowly. Testing the waters.

The match strikes, lighting ablaze a heated exchange of passion on each other’s lips.

The kiss deepens quickly, fueled by how fucking bad they both want this. His arms encircle her waist, pulling her flush against him as hers loop loosely around his neck. Their bodies meld together, hips pressing into hips.

Her back arches as one hand roams up, cupping the back of her head while the other digs its fingers into the plush skin of her hips. His touch is both tender and possessive, conveying a hunger that leaves her breathless.

Her tongue swipes over his bottom lip and he parts to let her in, grunting at the lingering taste of summer fruit and sweet tea. He can feel himself hardening, much to his dismay of wanting to move slow.

It takes everything in her not to rub up against him, the pressure between her thighs gaining momentum.

Their soft sighs of pleasure and the gentle sounds of their lips smacking echo in the air, she has to pull back before things are taken too far and she ends up climbing him like a tree.

“Mmm ‘kay, that’s enough.” She whispers against his lips but still goes in for one more quick peck… then another… then another.

“Sure it’s enough?” He can’t help but tease and that gets her to pull away with a quickness.

“Don’t get all cocky Peña.” She gently pushes at his chest and he raises his arms in surrender with that infamous smirk of his. She begins to waddle back to shore and his brows pull together.

“Where ya goin’?”

“Gotta take a piss.”

“Not really the sexiest thing to say to a man after you’ve left him half hard in the middle of a lake.”

“Sorry can’t hear you over me not givin’ a damn.”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head as he follows behind her to get redressed. It was getting pretty late, and as much as he’d prefer to stay out here with her all night, he knows he still needs to tread carefully and not smother her with his attempts at affection.

Paloma haphazardly dries off as she slides on her boots and walks a reasonable distance into the surrounding woods to find a secluded spot to relieve herself.

Her lips tingle, an aftershock from that amazing fucking kiss.

She steps carefully over roots and fallen branches, not wanting to add another injury to accompany the one on her knee.

Then, amidst the quiet, a faint sound catches her attention—a wheezing noise that unsettles her. Instinctively, she freezes, her brows cinching as she strains to locate the source.

The wheezing evolves into a soft groan, coming from beyond the thick trunk of a towering tree. She can hear her heartbeat thudding in her ears as she edges around it, eyes widening in shock when they land on a figure lying in the dirt.

It’s a young girl, about her age, barely visible in the dim light filtering through the dense foliage. Blood streaks her torn clothes, and her breaths are shallow and uneven.

“Oh my god,” Paloma breathes out in horror, rushing to her side. She kneels beside her, hands trembling as she feels for a pulse. It’s faint, but it’s there. “Okay, you’re goin’ to be fine just—” she urges softly, her voice tight with fear. She yells out Javier’s name in a panic, frantically scanning the girl’s injuries, trying to assess the damage as best she can.

The urgency in her tone is unmistakable, piercing through the quiet of the woods.

Javier’s head snaps to attention at the sound of her panicked voice. Dread grips him as he bolts through the underbrush, his mind racing with a thousand possibilities, none of them good.

He reaches her side in a blur of motion. “What happened?” He’s relieved to see that she’s okay, however that relief is gone the second his eyes land on the injured girl. He curses, kneeling and shifting into his authoritative nature, “Is she breathing?”

“I-I found her like this,” she explains quickly, tone trembling with emotion. “She is but barely. I think she’s been s-stabbed. We need to get her to a hospital.”

“The nearest hospital is an hour away. She won’t make it. I gotta get her to town,” Javier replies, his voice tense with determination. He scans the surrounding area, staying vigilant in case whoever did this is still lurking nearby.

“Dr. Hughes was here earlier, completely wasted. S’why she had to leave early. There’s no way she’s in any shape to deal with this now. We need to make that drive,” Paloma insists urgently, her eyes pleading with him.

“She won’t make it,” he repeats a little harsher, his jaw tense. “It’s a miracle you found her when you did. I’m takin’ her to Hughes— whether she’s drunk or not.” His tone brooks no argument, attention now shifting to the other girl.

“Alright sweetheart, I’m goin’ to lift you up and carry you to my truck, alright?” He says softly, his tone gentle as he carefully scoops her into his arms, mindful of her injuries. She responds with a faint nod, her eyes barely open as she struggles to stay conscious.

They move swiftly through the wooded area, Paloma following closely behind him as they navigate the uneven ground. Fortunately, those down by the lake are oblivious to their urgent mission, the distant noise of conversation and music low as they make their way to Javier’s truck.

At the vehicle, he carefully places the girl in the cab, Paloma attempting to climb in also but he stops her.

Javi frowns, shooting her a glare. “What the hell are you doing?” He asks incredulously.

“I’m comin’ with you,” she replies, matter-of-factly, gritting her teeth.

“Absolutely not, you’re staying here while I deal with this––” “You can either stand here ‘n argue with me while this poor girl bleeds out in your truck, or you can shut up and get to drivin’.”

She doesn’t give him time to make a choice, nudging him out of the way and hopping in, very gently placing the stranger’s head on her lap.

Javier mumbles out a litany of expletives, evidently frustrated, closing the passenger door behind her then rounding the truck to get it started.

They pull out into the main road and he reaches for his mobile phone to call Romeo at the station, clueing him in on what the fuck is going on. He doesn’t mention that Paloma is with him–– that’d only set the sheriff off and he needs him focused on sobering up the doctor, not distracted by his daughter’s unauthorized involvement.

“Hey darlin’, I’m Paloma.” She murmurs softly, brushing matted hair from her face and trying not to wince at her injuries. “We’re gonna get you some help, okay? You’re in good hands.” The girl’s left eye is swollen shut, her lip busted, her face a canvas of dirt and blood—both fresh and dried. Paloma’s stomach turns at the thought of how long she might have lain there, unnoticed and in pain.

As they speed towards town, Javier can’t help but overhear her words of comfort; her voice is sweet, all things considered, as she tries to keep the battered girl from drifting into unconsciousness.

Despite his initial exasperation over her coming along, he softens at her compassion. He knows she’s only trying to help.

When glancing over at them briefly, he sees that she’s still only in her bathing suit and boots, “There’s a flannel in the back. Put it on when we get there.” He advises, his tone calmer now. She nods in acknowledgment, eyes flickering with concern as she continues to comfort the girl in her lap.

When they finally pull up outside Dr. Hughes’s home, the doctor, her husband, and Romeo are already eagerly waiting on the porch. The sheriff’s expression is tight, his eyes narrowing as he spots Paloma in the front seat. Javier cuts the engine and hurries around to gently lift the injured girl from the truck, careful not to worsen her wounds as he takes her into his arms.

The doctor rushes forward, her professional demeanor snapping into place as she assesses her condition. “Get her inside,” she directs briskly, everyone moving to assist.

Paloma follows them into the house after slipping on his red flannel and buttoning it up halfway, her mind racing with worry and subtle guilt for having involved herself. She knows her dad is going to have questions, but she isn’t focused on that now.

She paces outside of the room they’re in, barely hearing the conversation happening on the other side.

“I can stabilize her but that’s about all I can do. She needs to go to a proper hospital,” Dr. Hughes’s voice filters through the door.

“I’ll take her. Get ahead of this thing before word spreads,” her father replies tersely.

“And your daughter?”

He sighs heavily, and Paloma’s heart sinks. “Why is she even here?” The question is directed at Javier, who stands quietly in the corner, arms crossed, thumb brushing his mustache as he stares into space. Like Paloma, he’s also covered in blood and dirt, but is unfazed by it.

“She found her out there and insisted on tagging along,” he answers truthfully. There’s a moment of tense silence. “I’ll make sure she makes it back home alright. What’s important now is her. Her injuries match that of the other victims. It had to have been the same person. We need her conscious and talking as soon as possible.”

Paloma stops pacing, her mind reeling with the implications of what they’re saying. She can’t bring herself to keep listening, now feeling a twinge of fear. It could have easily been her laying out on the dirt. Beaten and stabbed. Left for dead. She shivers.

She hurries down the hall to find the bathroom. The sensation of dry blood on her hands makes her skin crawl. She needs to wash it off, to do something tangible to alleviate the whiplash of her emotions.

Closing the door behind her, she turns on the tap and lets the lukewarm water run over her hands, scrubbing vigorously. The crimson stains run pink, swirling down the drain.

She leans against the sink when she’s finished, staring at her reflection in the mirror, trying to make sense of the chaotic events of the evening. How did her day go from being joyful to this? The adrenaline rush is starting to ebb, replaced by a sinking feeling of dread about what might unfold next.

Her hair is frizzy and damp from the lake water, her eyes glossed over with unshed tears she hadn’t even realized welled up. There’s blood and grime staining her midriff and parts of her bathing suit. The image reflects back a mix of concern and weariness.

A sudden knock startles her.

“You okay in there?” Javier’s voice is slightly muffled but it instantly calms her nerves.

She moves to open the door slightly, peeking up at him through the crack.

“M’not the one half dead on a bed right now,” she mutters.

He glances down the hall, ensuring they’re alone before focusing back on her. “I know, baby. She’s going to be fine. Your dad’s about to leave to take her to the hospital.”

“He’s pissed that I’m involved, ain’t he?”

He sighs, his hands falling to his hips. “Not pissed, just upset. But he’ll get over it. I’m taking you home, so whenever you’re ready, I’ll be outside.”

Paloma nods, grateful for him as he’s her anchor in all this turmoil. She closes the door, leaning her back against it and taking some deep breaths, composing herself before stepping out. She’s still a little shaky, but knowing she did all that she could brings a small measure of solace.

Back out on the porch, her father and Javier both turn to look at her. Romeo eyes the flannel on her shoulders then flicks his gaze over to his deputy sheriff warily. Whatever he’s thinking, he doesn’t voice out loud.

“How you holdin’ up?”

“I’m fine,” she replies, her voice steady though her eyes betray lingering worry.

Her dad walks over to her, enveloping her in a brief hug before pulling back, hands settling on her shoulders. “Lock all the doors when you make it home. You know where the key to the gun safe is?”

“Daddy don’t be ridiculous…” She begins to protest, but the serious look in his eyes stops her short. She swallows hard, “Yes, I know where it is.”

“Good. I’ll have one of the deputies posted out front of the house. Who knows if this fucker was lingerin’ around when you found her. M’not riskin’ it.”

All she does is nod while he places a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

She looks over his shoulder at Javier who’s doing a piss poor job of acting like he’s not listening in on them.

They lock eyes briefly, his expression a mix of concern and reassurance. The sheriff’s caution is warranted. The extra surveillance on her honestly makes Javi feel more at ease, too.

Ensuring that the girl is settled as comfortably as possible in the back of her father’s cruiser, he wastes no time–– lights flashing and sirens blaring as he speeds off towards the hospital.

Dr. Hughes joins them on the porch not long after, “You hurt, darlin’?” She asks and Paloma shakes her head. They say their goodbyes and Javier thanks the married couple for their help.

Back in his truck, it’s quiet minus the murmur of the radio as they drive along the backroads. She stares out of the rolled-down window, lost in thought.

“I hope she makes it out okay,” She finally breaks the silence, her voice laden with concern.

Javier glances over before reaching out to place a reassuring hand on her thigh, squeezing gently. “She’ll be fine. Don’t stress over this, hermosa, por favor.”

She nods hesitantly, appreciating his comfort but unable to shake off the nerves. The image of her beaten face and fragile state is etched vividly in her memory.

First the old man, now her.

As they approach her house, Paloma thinks of her father’s stern warning and the precautions he insisted on.

“Can you come back later?” She blurts out, tugging at the hem of his shirt out of nervousness.

Javier purses his lips, rubbing at his eyebrow. He can feel the migraine slowly winding up. “I wish. Gotta head back out to the lake to oversee everything while your dad’s at the hospital.” It’s going to be a long night.

Her heart sinks, but she understands. This is his job after all. He’s more use out there than he is staying here to comfort her. She rubs at her eyes, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on her, yet she knows sleep will be elusive tonight. The fear that someone might be coming after her is too intense.

She really hopes this doesn’t trigger another nightmare. She’ll stay up all night to prevent it from happening if she has to.

“Hey, c’mere,” he undoes his seatbelt then hers once they’re parked, bringing her closer to him, not giving a damn that they’re both dirty. “If it were up to me, I’d stay with you all night. I’ll make sure they send someone with some fuckin’ sense out here to look after you.” His hand comes up to cup her jaw, lowering his face to hers and she pouts softly.

“Even though I know you’re more than capable of handlin’ yourself.”

It’s true, but it’s the principle of it. The fact that they even have to worry about this. Still, she gives him a tight smile.

“I had a really great time with you today.” She whispers, nuzzling against the large palm that’s now against her cheek, his thumb stroking her soft skin.

“Me too, palomita. I always have a great time when I’m with you. Love seein’ that pretty smile.” Her heart flutters and she bites her lip, his dark eyes dropping to her mouth as she does.

They both lean in at the same time, sharing a slower, more tender kiss. Neither of them wanting to pull away yet knowing they have to. There are more pressing matters at hand.

After a few more minutes of getting lost in each other, he pulls back and nudges his nose against hers. “Go on now, cariño. I’ll see you soon as I can.”

She pouts again, leaning in to kiss him one final time before sliding away and reaching for the door handle.

“Wait,” he stops her, leaning over to open the glove box and pulling out one of his updated cards—the one with his new mobile number on it.

“You call me if you need anything at all. Doesn’t matter what it is. I’ll answer.”

She takes the small card between her fingers, looking up at him. “Anythin’?” she asks for clarification.

“Anything.” His voice is firm, eyes locking onto hers, making sure she knows he means it.

This brings her comfort, but she won’t bother him while he’s in the middle of dealing with everything. Not unless she has to. “Okay. Be safe, Javi.”

“You too, palomita. Lock the doors and try to get some rest.”

She steps out of the truck, watching as he drives off into the night, a mixture of fear and warmth lingering in her chest. She knows he’ll be back as soon as he can, but for now, she has to be strong for herself. She heads inside, locking the door behind her, the small card still clutched in her hand.

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