Page 101 of His to Bedevil

Alejandro

When we get back on the plane to go home, I seclude myself in the back room and open my laptop. I know I should let her go completely like she has to do with me, but I don’t want to. I could never go cold turkey with her. Maybe in time I can check on her every few months just to make sure she’s doing okay, but not any time soon.

On my laptop, I pull up the live feed from inside Irma’s new apartment and rewind it to when we left. Berto had set everything up in a day. Got an interior decorator in her new place, had Marcus set up her new identity with a bank account that I will deposit money in every month, signed her up for driving classes, signed her up for night classes to get her GED, and when she gets her driver’s license, a new car will be immediately brought to her with bulletproof windows.

I watch her walk into the apartment like a zombie. There’s no emotion in her face, and she stares blankly around at the place. Then she approaches the dining table and caresses each plate before picking one up. God, I miss her so much already. This is by far the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Especially when she gets hysterical. She starts smashing every plate by throwing them against the wall, and when she runs out of them, she picks up the lamp and throws it at the TV.

When she slaps a hand over her mouth and drops to the floor, it takes all of me not to demand we turn the plane around. My hands fly to my hair and pull at it while I watch her body shake and hear her cry. It’s been over a year now since I met Irma.I imprisoned her and starved her for over four weeks, she didn’t cry. I stripped her of her freedom that she clung to, she didn’t shed a tear. Her only friend in the world was gunned down on the day of her unwanted wedding, no tears. She was almost blown up on an airplane and had to shoot and kill two people, her first kills, and she didn’t break. She got abducted and her face beaten in, and she literally laughed through it. The woman has been so fucking strong and resilient, and this is when she cries. I don’t know why though. Because she wanted to stay with me? Because she’s alone again? What, Irma? What is it that broke you now after all this time?

I watch her cry herself to sleep, tucked into a little ball on the floor, and I’m already feeling like I made the biggest mistake of my life. Because no matter what, there’s no going back. The damage has been done.

Irma

Almost four months later…

“Are you coming out tonight with us or what?” Kate says as we’re finishing up our side work. Rolling silverware and stacking glasses.

I sigh. “I’m just really tired, I’d be no fun.”

“How old are you?” she teases.

I snort. “I’m twenty-three.”

“Well, you need to start acting like it! Being tired is not an excuse.”

What about being heartbroken and depressed?Of course, I can’t say that out loud, but it’s true. It’s been months, and not only am I not at all close to healing, but I feel even worse. Every day is a struggle to get up. That’s why I got a job at this restaurant.

Alejo fucking puts money in my bank account every month, and he has paid for my apartment, a full wardrobe, a car paid in full that was delivered to me the day I passed my driver’s test. I’m starting to wonder if there was a prenup or something I’m unaware of. Bottom line, I don’t need money. But if I didn’t have a job to go to, I’d stay in bed all day every day just rotting away. I hardly even have the energy to go out and explore Boulder, Colorado. I am able to drag my ass out of bed and go for a run or a hike when I haven’t drunk half a bottle of whiskey the night before.

“Maybe next time,” I finally say.

“No, you’re coming out. Tonight. I have my shit to change into in the car. I will follow your ass home and follow you into your apartment and dress you myself if I have to.”

I give her a secretive smirk because little does she know, I may be half her size, but I could easily kick her ass. “You’re annoying.” She grins like she’s proud of herself. “But I kind of like you.”

“Everyone does.” She smiles and juts her chin out.

I giggle a little and shake my head. “Fine. I’ll come out. Just tell me where.”

“Well, I was actually kind of serious when I said I was going to follow your ass home and into your apartment. We can get ready together.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal, but it is to me.

I’ve never had girlfriends before. Or work friends. Or any friends. I’ve never gotten ready to go out with another girl. I haven’t lived under a rock, so I know what it’ll probably be like. Listening to music, having drinks, trying on a bunch of different outfits. I just don’t know if I’m cut out for that. Call me old or maybe even a little stiff, but I’m not quite sure I’m a girls’ girl. Maybe because I spent more of my young adulthood hiding secrets.

“Yeah. Sure.”

After we leave work, she follows me home like she said she would. “Whoa,” Kate says as she follows me into my apartment. She spins around, taking everything in. “You didn’t tell me you were rich. Why are you working at the restaurant?”

I smile. “I’m not rich.” I don’t elaborate and head into the kitchen. “Want some wine or a beer? Shot?”

She walks up to the breakfast bar, still taking everything in. “Um, well, that depends.”

“On what?”

“If we share an Uber and you let me crash here tonight?” She smiles.

Spend the night? Like a sleepover?I turn around to busy myself with making a drink, so that she can’t see how uncomfortable I am right now. “Sure, we can do that.” My initial reaction is to say no, because I’m so used to being private and not getting close to anyone. But now I really don’t have anything to hide, and I’m supposed to be trying this so-called normal life.

“Then a shot it is. What you got?” She rounds the island and looks at my small collection. “Oh my God, Fynn. You really are an old person, aren’t you? Like, a fancy, rich old person.”

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