CHAPTER 10: SLIPPING THROUGH THE FOG

Xitllali De La Rosa

"I'm her neighbor," Xiaro said calmly. "And right now, I'm the only reason you two aren't bleeding out on her shop floor. If you want answers, make it quick. Those men won't stay confused for long."

Outside, police sirens grew louder, echoing through the narrow streets.

"Stop it!" I whispered, stepping between them and pressing my hand against Guillermo's chest. "Both of you, stop! Xiaro just saved our lives."

Guillermo looked down at my hand, then back at me. The suspicion in his eyes softened for a moment, but he still didn't lower his guard.

Xiaro pointed toward a stone archway hidden behind sacks of grain.

"The old drainage canal leads behind the church on Calle Real. Follow it two hundred meters east. It will take you toward the mountain road before the police block the plaza."

I looked at Xiaro. "What about your bakery? What if those men come back?"

"My shop is fine, Esperanza," he said with a small nod. "I'll tell the police I was out buying supplies when the shooting started. Just get out of town before those men come back."

Guillermo took my hand. His grip was firm. "We're moving."

"Thank you, Xiaro," I called over my shoulder as Guillermo pulled me through the opening.

Xiaro didn't answer. He simply watched us until the stone passage hid him from view.

We slipped through the narrow passage and came out near the old drainage canal. Cold rain fell around us as thick fog covered the cobblestones.

Guillermo shoved open the side door of an abandoned stone chapel on Calle Real and pulled me inside. He slammed the door and dropped a wooden bar into place.

The chapel was half ruined, with rain coming through the broken roof. It smelled like wet stone and old wood.

He leaned against a stone pillar and took a deep breath.

In the weak light coming through the broken windows, I saw a tear in his coat over his left shoulder.

Blood was soaking through the fabric and running down his sleeve.

"Guillermo," I said, stopping near a fallen wooden bench. "You're bleeding."

"It's just a scratch," he said, closing his eyes for a moment.

"It's not just a scratch!" I snapped. "You're bleeding through your coat!"

I stepped toward him and opened his soaked coat. He didn't stop me.

His black shirt was torn and covered in blood. A bullet had grazed his shoulder, leaving a deep cut.

I grabbed the bottom of my apron and ripped off a long strip of cloth.

I was helping him because if he bled out here, I'd be completely alone against Severo's men, or that's what I made myself believe.

"Hold still," I whispered, pressing the cloth against the wound.

He went stiff and grunted in pain, but he didn't move as I wrapped the cloth around his shoulder and pulled it tight.

"Look at what you've done," I whispered, tears running down my face. "Look at what you did to my life. I had two years, Guillermo. Two years where I could wake up without someone pointing a gun at me."

"I know," he said softly. "I know, mi vida."

"Don't call me that!" I snapped, tightening the knot until he winced. "Tell me the truth. Why were they threatening my father? What did my family have to do with your cartel war?"

His hazel eyes met mine. He took a slow breath before answering.

"Your father controlled the shipping routes through Monterrey. The border gates, warehouses, and transport permits. He spent thirty years building them."

"Severo wanted control of the northern routes, but your father refused to sell them to him or work for him."

"So they put a target on him?" My voice shook.

"They put one on him and you," he said. "Severo wanted to kill your father and remove his only heir so no one would be left to control those legal contracts."

He paused.

"Your father came to me because he needed protection."

I stared at him, my hands cold against his bloodstained shirt. "And you married me."

"It was the only way to put your father's routes under my protection. It kept Severo's men away from him. But making you my wife also put a target on your back because of my enemies."

"The threat letter I kept in my safe was Severo's final warning before I took down his main lieutenants."

All this time, I had thought I was nothing more than a trophy bought by a ruthless man. I never knew my father had been fighting to protect everything he had built.

"In my shop, you looked me in the eye and said the war was over," I said, shaking my head. "You said every man who threatened my family was dead."

His jaw tightened.

"Severo's main network in Jalisco was destroyed. He didn't have enough men left to hunt anyone in Chiapas," he said. "Not unless someone gave him my exact travel route."

I froze. "So someone in your own house betrayed you?"

"Yes," he said quietly. "Severo couldn't have tracked me himself."

He reached inside his coat and pulled out a small satellite phone.

His thumb dialed a private number before he put the phone to his ear.

The call connected on the second ring.

"Boss?" a voice came through, filled with panic. "Where are you? Your signal went dead when you reached the highland pass."

"Listen carefully, Hector. Severo's men ambushed me in San Cristóbal."

A sharp gasp came through the phone. "What? How did he know?"

"Because there's a rat in my house," Guillermo said. "Someone leaked my travel route. Lock down the estate. Check the phone logs and recent payments. Find out who contacted Severo's people."

"I'm on it," Hector said quickly. "I'll gather a crew and head straight for Chiapas."

"No. Don't bring a large convoy, it will attract too much attention. Send two discreet scouts with clean vehicles, weapons, and supplies toward the border road. Keep everyone else at the estate."

He paused and looked at me.

"And Hector," he added, "make sure the scouts bring warm clothes for my wife."

Silence filled the line.

"Boss..." Hector stammered. "Mrs. Tzotzil-Vargas is... alive?"

"Do what I told you."

Guillermo ended the call before Hector could ask anything else.

He put the phone away and walked toward the broken chapel window.

"You think because you ordered clothes for me, I'll fall in line like your wife again?" I whispered. "I'm not going back to your cage, Guillermo."

He slowly turned toward me. His hazel eyes held a quiet pain. He reached out with his uninjured hand, his fingers moving toward my face.

The moment his fingers touched my cheek, anger shot through me. I pulled away and slapped his hand aside.

"Don't touch me," I hissed. "You don't own me anymore."

His hand stayed in the air for a moment. Pain flashed across his face before he slowly lowered it.

"I know," he whispered. "I know."

Before I could say anything else, bright headlights cut through the fog outside the chapel, casting long shadows across the stone floor.

Severo's men were close.