Natalya
He falls silent, trudging further into the forest. Once a few minutes have passed, I’m sure he isn’t going to continue the story.
“You say until recently. What changed?” I ask.
“Everything,” he murmurs, turning around so suddenly that I slam into his chest.
I try to take a step back, but he reaches for me and holds me close.
“My uncle explained why my father killed her. She betrayed the family and was sleeping with a member of the Vasquez Cartel.” A muscle at his temple contracts. “I blamed the deal with the Gurin Bratva, when it had been my mother’s foolish mistakes that led to her own death and the reason we had to leave Reynosa.” His jaw clenches. “She had sold the cartel out and Vasquez Cartel took over the territory within days. I’ll never forgive my father for taking her life, as he was a coward for not telling Don Pablo to fuck off and get someone else to do it.” Alexander shrugs. “But I can’t lay the blame with the Gurin Bratva any longer.”
I nod in understanding, but I’m pretty sure if his father told the head of the Estrada Cartel to fuck off, he would be dead himself.
It’s hard to believe that all these years I thought he just took one look at me and instantly hated me. As if it were the opposite of love at first sight, hate at first sight.
All along he’s had this secret hatred for the Gurin Bratva and, in turn, me.
“So, why do you still torment me?” I ask, knowing that the answer to that question has the power to unravel me entirely.
His nostrils flare and he shrugs. “I only found out about my mother’s betrayal the day before New Year’s eve just passed.” He releases me and turns his back to me, walking further up the path. “My uncle took me to her grave in Reynosa for the first time.” The muscles in his back are knotted and tense as he talks. “And old habits die hard.”
Habits.
Is that what he feels I am? A habit he can’t kick, and nothing more.
I swallow the bile rising up my throat, knowing that I’ll never hear what I want from him.
“Are you going to stop now?” I ask, unsure whether my voice sounds hopeful or hesitant.
He glances at me again. “Do you want me to?” There’s an intensity in his eyes that steals the oxygen from my lungs.
I don’t know how to answer that question. It’s one which has no easy answer.
A rustling in the bushes to our left saves me. Both of us crouch low, rifles ready as we search for the source of the noise.
Alexander moves closer to me quietly, his arm brushing against my own. “Quiet,” he mouths, nodding to the clearing ahead where a deer and her fawn have just trotted onto the path.
A sadness clutches around my heart as I wonder if Alexander would actually kill the deer or fawn. A mother and baby going about their daily lives and not harming anyone.
He aims the gun and I grab his hand, shaking my head.
His brow furrows. “What?”
“You can’t kill them.”
He shakes his head, eyes narrowing. “How do you expect to lead the bratva if you can’t even kill a deer?”
I swallow hard and look him dead in the eye. “A good leader knows when to take a life and when to show mercy.” I glance at the deer and fawn, who are both still oblivious to our presence. “All life is sacred, so what reason do we have to kill them?” I ask.
“Because we’ve been tasked to hunt, and that’s what we should do.”
“It’s pointless and barbaric. Being able to pull that trigger doesn’t make a strong leader. It’s knowing when not to pull it.” When I glance back at Alexander, he’s lowered his rifle and is looking at me with the oddest expression in his ice-blue eyes.
“What?” I ask.
He shrugs. “You talk a lot of sense, for the teacher’s pet. Especially since you are going against the teacher’s brief.” He nudges me slightly, a soft smile twisting his lips upward. It’s a beautiful smile, one that makes him look almost otherworldly. “I think you are right, Gurin.”
I smile. “Of course, I’m always right.”
He chuckles then, the deep and velvety tone carrying through the trees and startling the deer, who rush over the path and into the safety and cover of the dense forest around us.
I laugh too, thankful that he agreed to spare those defenseless animals.
And then we look into each other’s eyes and it feels like for the first time I’m seeing the true Alexander Morales.
No anger or mask as he gazes straight into my eyes like he can see right to my soul.
My heart beats harder and faster as I search his, knowing that despite the feelings I have for him, the past can’t be forgotten.
He’s treated me so badly over the years, and those memories can’t just disappear. There’s no winding the clock back for us, even though a part of me wishes we could.
What would have happened if Alexander had known the real reason for his mother’s death and his family uprooting him when he arrived here?
It’s easy to dwell on what could have been.
Alexander clears his throat, breaking the intense tension that had fallen between us and glancing back toward the clearing. “We should get moving.” He glances at his watch. “We have half an hour until we’re supposed to be back at the minibus.”
“Sure,” I say, hating how disappointed I feel that our time alone in these woods is over.
For the first time I’m finally starting to understand my tormentor, and I want to get to know more about him, even if that is crazy. Now the revelation behind his hatred for me is out in the open. I wonder if it will change anything between us. And the more important question is, do I even want it to?