Tough Love III
Camila's POV
I focus on Alejandro's chin, as I will myself to calm down but the gun pressed into the side of my head makes it impossible.
Alejandro tentatively raises both of his hands, his eyes trained on my temple where the gun stays pressed against it.
"Why don't you leave the girl alone and take me to grab my wallet from the car. I'll give you what I have in there." Alejandro speaks confidently.
The man glances down at me before looking back at him. "How much you got in there?"
"A couple grand." Alejandro speaks before nodding towards me. "Maybe more if you leave her out of this."
And the next thing I know, the man is pointing the gun at Alejandro's head as he tries to yank him up by his collar.
With a slight roll of his eyes, Alejandro stands effectively towering over the man, who swallows no doubt not expecting Alejandro's height or build.
With a square of his shoulders the robber resorts to pushing the gun into Alejandro's cheek seeing as he can't reach his head at a comfortable angle.
And in that moment as I stare at Alejandro's bored face, a gun pressed to his cheek, everything slips away until I'm nothing but that little girl forced to watch yet another man's life get snatched away.
And just like my papà I'm not ready to lose him.
I hadn't talked to him this past week, we'd been on horrible terms and suddenly the reasons why all slip away.
He must realize I'm moments from breaking down because the Italian Adonis sends me a single nod. One that tells me he has everything under control, yet the metal barrel pressed into his cheek has me questioning it all.
But Alejandro holds my stare, "Principessa, vai a nasconderti in bagno, copriti le orecchie e ti vengo a prendere tra un minuto." He says, his tone composed yet attentive. (Go hide in the bathroom, cover your ears and I'll come get you in a minute.)
"English, you fucking immigrant!" The man spits pushing the gun harder into Alejandro's cheek.
His jaw ticks, as though he's trying to rein in his anger as he speaks carefully. "Listen to the man and wait over there." Despite his words, the sharp look in his eyes tells me to do anything but.
I get the hint and nod, knowing to listen to his previous words. When he nods for me to move behind him and towards the bathroom, I dash for the restroom door, only looking back to see catch Alejandro's brief glance back at me, as if making sure I get through the door.
Our eyes connect and in the millisecond before I disappear behind the door, I watch his hand reach back, into his wristband where his black gun sits.
I throw myself in the far corner, curling my body into a ball and placing my hands over my ears, just as the loud ricochet of bullets echo's through the walls.
I count them.
One.
Two.
The commotion lasts only a few seconds but I stay put, waiting for Alejandro to come get me and tell me it's all okay.
It has to be okay.
He's going to come get me.
But as I sit there waiting for him, minutes that feel like hours pass and panic starts to rise, so much so that I can't choke back the sobs that break loose.
First papá, then mamá and now Alejandro.
I was cursed.
The universe was going to slowly take away everyone I cared for, and suddenly I feel terrible for all the times I'd been upset with them.
All those times I'd said I hated papá, all those times I'd called mamá an absent parent and made her cry. And now, all those days I'd spent ignoring Alejandro, instead of talking through my problems.
An ache settles itself in my chest as I stare at the door that has yet to be opened.
He isn't coming.
Alejandro's gone.
Another sob erupts and I shut my eyes, too lost in my own despair to hear the door creaking open, and it's only when my name is repeated that I stop and look up.
"Camila?"
My head lifts just in time to watch Alejandro's alarmed eyes scan the room until they land on me.
The relief in his gaze triggers my own as I stand on wobbly legs and wipe my tears. "You're alive?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." I realise how ridiculous it sounds, and the way he blinks in slight confusion tells me he thinks it too "Why are you crying?"
"I just thought you..." my voice cracks and I look into his eyes that soften as small tears flow down my cheeks. "Like my mamá and papá."
The man walks up to me, grips the back of my head and then pulls me into his chest where I'm able to slump against him.
His warmth engulfs me and the smell of his cologne calms my sobs.
He holds me against him and I feel him dips his head down to place a kiss atop of my head. "It's okay baby, you're okay." He murmurs.
"I was scared." I admit, my voice muffled by his firm chest, as I turn my head and rest my ear atop his steady beating heart. "Really scared for you."
He pulls back to look down at me, his eyes filled with calmness. "Don't be." His thumb wipes at the tears under my eyes. "I can handle myself just fine."
The response only makes things worse. "That's what mamá use to say."
Alejandro sighs and slowly begins to move the hair sticking to my cheeks away, "I've been in this life a long time. It's gonna take more than two drugged up addicts to take me down."
I think about it for a moment and those words do in fact make that ball of panic go away. "I guess so." I mumble blinking back into reality.
We're all fine.
I suddenly pull away from him, as I shift awkwardly. We'd been on bad terms before this and while I didn't want him dead, I also hadn't forgiven him.
Alejandro looks like he's going to say something as he steps back closer to me. "Camila, I m-"
He's cut off by the door opening. Fear roots me to my spot while Alejandro stops and steps in front of me, only relaxing his shoulders and stepping away as Marco's burly body comes into view.
"I want you to take the back exit and go home with Marco." Alejandro explains, drawling my attention back to his face.
"You're not coming with us?" I hide the disappointment in my tone. I didn't care.
"I need to make sure this mess is cleaned." He says, his eyes piercing into mine, an oceans worth of unspoken words in his gaze. "Unless you want me to take you home?"
The question comes in a nonchalant tone, no signs of desperation or want. Like he couldn't care less what I had to say, but his eyes told a slightly different story. One that told me he'd drop his responsibilities in a heartbeat if I said the word.
Yes.
I stop myself from speaking the word aloud.
"That's okay." I give my head a light shake. "I don't want to be a bother."
And the air of disappointment I pass through as I walk by him makes the taste of hurt he'd caused dissipate into satisfaction.
Because for once, he wanted to drop everything for me.
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