CHAPTER 22: THE BATTLE ON THE RIDGE

 Xitllali 

"You can't go out there, Guillermo."

The words came out before I even realized I was speaking. I stepped out of the hallway, my heart was already pounding hard in my chest.

He didn't stop walking. He grabbed a heavy black tactical vest from the wooden dining chair and slipped his uninjured arm through it. When he moved his injured shoulder to pull the strap tight, his jaw tightened from the pain, but he didn't make a sound.

"Guillermo, stop and listen to me," I said, moving closer. My voice shook, but I couldn't stop it. "You had a high fever just hours ago. Your shoulder is badly hurt. You can barely lift your arm, and you want to climb a mountain to fight an armed group?"

He ignored me. He picked up an ammo clip from the table and pushed it into the bottom of his handgun with a sharp click.

Valdo and Mateo were already by the front door, pulling dark rain jackets over their gear. They didn't look at me. In their world, when the boss gave an order, you followed it. There was no arguing.

"Valdo, take Mateo and go around the left side of the dirt road," Guillermo ordered, his voice was completely calm. That calmness scared me more than anger would have. "Don't let them set up the roadblock. If they get a mounted gun on that ridge, they'll tear this place apart."

"Yes, Boss," Valdo said.

He pushed the heavy wooden door open and cold, damp air rushed into the room, carrying the smell of wet dirt and pine trees. The two men stepped into the thick white mist and disappeared from sight.

Now it was just the two of us.

He finally turned to look at me. His eyes were dark, and the quiet softness I had seen in the bedroom only minutes ago was completely gone. This was the man the underworld feared. This was El Crotalo.

He walked over to the table and picked up another handgun. It was black, and fully loaded. He took three long steps toward me until he was standing right in front of me, towering over me.

He reached out, grabbed my right hand, and placed the cold gun in my palm.

"Keep the safety on until you need to shoot," he said in a low voice. "Don't open this door for anyone. If you hear someone trying to break the lock, aim at the center of the door and empty the gun. Do you understand me?"

I looked down at the gun in my hand, then back at his face. "What happens if you bleed to death in the mud up there? What if there are too many of them?"

"I won't bleed to death," he said flatly.

"You don't know that!" My voice cracked, and the fear I had been holding in finally came out. I hated that I cared this much. For two years, I had convinced myself that I hated this man. I told myself he was a monster who had kept me trapped in a golden cage.

But after seeing the new scars on his body and knowing that he had spent those two years risking his life to keep my family safe, everything felt different.

I couldn't lose him. Not now.

He stepped even closer. The warmth from his body filled the cold space between us. He reached out with his uninjured arm and gently held the side of my face. His rough thumb slowly brushed over my cheek.

My breath caught. I looked up into his eyes, unable to look away from the intensity in them.

"If I stay in this house, Xitllali, I'm just waiting for them to find you," he whispered. His voice wasn't cold anymore. There was something deep and desperate in it. "And the moment they break through that door, they'll have their guns pointed at you. I would rather die on that ridge than let another man point a gun at my wife."

A warm tear slipped from my eye and ran over his thumb.

He leaned down and rested his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes, breathing in the scent of his skin, and the faint smell of medical ointment.

"Lock the door," he whispered.

Before I could say another word, he pulled away. The sudden loss of his warmth made me shiver. He turned around, walked into the freezing mist, and pulled the heavy door shut behind him.

The lock clicked into place.

I stood completely alone in the middle of the room.

The silence felt heavy. I could only hear the old clock ticking on the wall and my own fast breathing. I walked to the window and looked through a small gap in the curtains, but couldn't see anything through the thick white fog.

My stomach twisted. He's not in the right condition to go out there. If he lost the use of his right arm during the fight, Severo's men could kill him.

I looked down at the gun in my hand.

I thought about the last two years. I had hidden in my little flower shop and I stayed quiet. I had tried to play it safe while this man fought the people who wanted to hurt me.

I didn't want to hide anymore.