CHAPTER 7: THE CHOICE HE GAVE ME

Xitllali De La Rosa (living as "Esperanza")

My eyes burned as I stared down at the letters carved into the metal: GUILLERMO TZOTZIL-VARGAS.

My hands were shaking so badly that I could barely keep the gun steady.

Guillermo didn't move. He stayed on his knees among the broken glass and crushed marigold petals.

He didn't flinch. He didn't reach for another weapon in his coat. He didn't even move his head away from the gun pointed straight at his forehead.

He wants me to do it.

The thought slammed into my brain, it was cold and terrifying. A predator who comes to drag you back to a cage fights. A man setting a trap guards his throat. But Guillermo was just looking up at me with raw, bloodshot eyes, completely motionless.

He was handing me the power to end everything right here.

"You think this is a game?" My voice cracked, it was raw with fury and terror. "You think putting your name on a piece of brass will make me hesitate? I'll do it!"

"I don't think anything, Xitllali," he said quietly. His voice was scratchy, stripped of all the arrogance he used to wear in Guadalajara. "You asked why I came. I came to give you the choice I never gave you two years ago."

"Don't do that," I sobbed, my thumb trembling against the steel slide. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor!"

My knuckles turned white as I tightened my grip on the gun. A part of me wants to shoot him and just end everything.

He slowly closed his eyes, he didn't beg. He just took one long breath and waited for me to pull the trigger.

I couldn't do it.

Shooting a man who was fighting back was survival. Shooting a man who was actively offering his execution was something else entirely. 

If I pulled this trigger, I wouldn't be free, I'd spend the rest of my life locked in the memory of his corpse on my floor.

I pushed the slide forward with my thumb and it snapped shut with a heavy click, locking the single bullet in place.

His eyes opened instantly.

"Get up," I rasped, stepping back three full steps until my lower back touched the wooden edge of the display counter. I kept the gun aimed at his heart. "Get up!”

He slowly got to his feet, holding onto the table for support. Even tired and worn out, there was still something intimidating about him. His broad shoulders blocked half the light from the streetlamp outside, and his dark coat was soaked from the rain.

"Now talk," I demanded, my hands shaking as I kept the gun pointed at his chest. "No speeches. You came all the way here, and I have questions. I want answers."

He stayed still, keeping his hands where I could see them. "Ask me. I'll answer.”

"Who else knows I'm in San Cristóbal?"

"No one," he said flatly.

"Don't lie to me!" I yelled, my voice breaking as tears ran down my cheeks. "My neighbor saw someone down by the river road asking about a woman who looks like me. He said there's a black truck down there right now!"

I took a shaky breath, tightening my grip on the gun. "So don't stand there and tell me you came alone. Who did you bring with you, Guillermo? Who's out there?”

His brow furrowed, and the look in his eyes changed. "I drove here alone in a sedan, Xitllali. I didn't bring anyone with me. Not even Hector."

My heart dropped. "Then who the hell is in the black truck?!”

He suddenly went still. The tired look on his face disappeared and it was replaced by something much more serious. 

He looked toward the broken front window, his eyes narrowing as he stared into the dark, rainy street outside.

"Did anyone follow you when you went out today?" he asked, his voice suddenly low and serious.

"No," I stammered, the panic I was already feeling doubled instantly. "I haven't left the shop all day.”

"Someone must have followed me," he muttered. His hand moved instinctively toward his inner coat pocket before he stopped himself, remembering he had just given me his only weapon. 

"I thought I'd lost them on the mountain road outside town. I didn't think much of it because I assumed they were just highway patrol."

"Who?" I asked, panic rising again. My breathing had become quick and uneven. "Guillermo, who the hell is out there?!”

Before he could answer, I heard the deep sound of a diesel engine coming from the small alley behind my shop.

The sound slowly came closer.

My stomach dropped. That back alley was my only way out. It was the escape route I had checked every single morning for two years.

"Xitllali, give me the gun right now," he said quietly, stepping sideways to put his body between me and the back door.

"No!" I choked out, pulling the gun closer to his chest. "No, I'm not giving it to you!”

"They aren't here for a flower shop owner," he growled, his voice turning hard as he turned his back to me, and watched the shaking wooden latch on the back door.

"They're here for El Crotalo. And if they catch us in this room, they won't care who you are before they start shooting, and I don't want you to get hurt, so give me the gun right now!”

A heavy metal bang hit the wooden back door from outside, and the lock broke with a loud crack.

Guillermo didn't wait. He lunged backward, grabbed my shoulder, and pulled me hard behind the solid oak counter just as the back door was kicked completely off its hinges.