CHAPTER 13: BOUNDARIES IN THE ICE

Xitllali De La Rosa

Sunlight was creeping through the cracks in the cabin shutters when I opened my eyes again.

The moment I sat up on the cot, the memories of the night came rushing back.

The leg massage. The intense kiss. The nightmare. Guillermo sitting on the cold floor beside me to keep watch while I slept.

Guillermo was standing by the wooden table near the window, pulling on the clean dark shirt we had found hanging inside the cabin when we arrived.

The rustle of my wool blanket made him pause. He pulled his shirt down and turned around. 

When our eyes met, an uncomfortable silence filled the small room. The memory of his lips against mine was still fresh, but so was the memory of him seeing me break down in fear during the night.

Heat rushed to my face. I quickly stood from the cot and smoothed down my cloth, putting some distance between us.

He watched me move toward the fireplace. A quiet look crossed his face, but he didn't mention the kiss or my nightmare.

"How are your legs?" he asked quietly.

"They're fine," I muttered, avoiding his eyes as I pulled on my dry boots. "The cramping reduced."

I cleared my throat and crossed my arms over my chest to keep warm as I looked at him across the cabin.

"Guillermo," I said, keeping my voice steady. "How is my father?"

He paused with one hand resting on the wooden table. He looked at me for a moment before answering.

"He's safe," he said. "He's at his estate in Monterrey under heavy private security. 

Severo tried to pressure his shipping routes early last year, but my men locked down the roads and borders around his operations. He doesn't know you're alive, Xitllali. To him, you're still a memory."

I swallowed hard, a lump forming in my throat. Hearing that my father was alive and safe felt like a weight lifting from my chest. For two years, I had worried that my escape had left him completely unprotected.

"And Consuelo?" My voice softened. "How is she? Is she still at the estate in Guadalajara?"

At the mention of Consuelo, his jaw tightened slightly before he answered.

"Consuelo is still at the estate," he said softly. "She manages the household staff, and she prays for you every day at the chapel."

I closed my eyes for a moment and let out a shaky breath.

Consuelo. The woman who had held me while I cried. The woman who had helped me carry out the fake death plan.

She was safe.

When I opened my eyes, Guillermo was watching me closely.

"What happens now?" I asked, standing straighter. "We can't stay in this cabin forever."

"Severo's scouts are watching the lower roads leading out of town toward the border," he said. "They know we ran into the hills, but they don't know about this cabin."

"How many men did he send here?"

"No more than six or eight," he answered. "He brought a small team because he thought I was traveling alone and had no protection. He didn't expect us to fight back in your shop."

"So we wait for Hector's scouts?"

"Hector's scouts won't reach the highland pass until this evening." He walked toward the cabin door and slowly slid the deadbolt open enough to look outside. "We deal with Severo's local scouts today, clear the area around San Cristóbal, and then I find out who inside my house leaked my travel route."

He turned toward me, his expression serious.

"Stay inside while I check the trees around the cabin," he ordered. "Nobody comes through that door unless it's me."

I stared at him. "You're going out there alone?" My eyes dropped to his injured shoulder. "You're hurt, Guillermo. What if something happens?"

He rested his hand on the door and glanced at me. "I'll be fine."

"It's still bleeding," I argued. "You said you'd be fine last night too, and you were bleeding through your shirt."

A faint smile touched his face. "And I'm still standing."

I shook my head. "You really are impossible."

"I've been told that before." He opened the door a little wider, and a rush of cold air entered the cabin. "Stay here, I'll be back."

Before he could step outside, I reached out and caught his arm. He looked down at my hand, then slowly lifted his eyes to mine.

"Please be careful," I said quietly.

His expression softened. "I will."

I let go, and he stepped outside, closing the door behind him. I stood there for a moment, staring at the wooden door.

I hated that I had worried about him. What I hated even more was the feeling that he already knew it.