Page 16 of No Greater Oblivion

I manage a glance at him over Rian’s shoulder. He’s twitching like an atomic bomb with seconds left on its timer. On cue, he finally explodes.

“You’re dating Rian O’Neil.”

I drop the gauze on the counter and meet his gaze head on. “More like fucking. Hard, well, and often.”

Rian’s head snaps around. He narrows his eyes at me, conveying his displeasure.

Alejandro opens his mouth, presses his lips together, then blurts, “What the fuck is wrong with your hair?”

Feeling defensive, I touch one of the strands. “This is my natural color.”

“It looks like shit.”

I slam the first aid kit shut and step out from behind the counter. “What the fuck are you doing here anyway? Why didn’t your plane crash in the Atlantic?”

He makes a flippant gesture in Rian’s direction. Disgust and disbelief flicker across his hardened features. “¿Esto es lo que has estado haciendo todo este tiempo? ¿Coqueteando con cualquier Fulano que se cruce en tu camino? ¿En serio?”

Rian turns to him. “Narvaez⁠—”

“Lo que hago con mi vida no es asunto tuyo. Ya no estamos juntos, ¿recuerdas?” I fire back. “Ahora sal de mi casa o te saco yo.” I snap my fingers with quickness. “Out. Now.”

“English,” Rian blurts. “Please⁠—”

“¡No me voy de aquí hasta que hablemos tú y yo!” Alejandro argues. “Así que dile a tu maldito juguete que se largue, antes que le ponga una bala en la cabeza.”

“¡No me hables así!” I scream, our voices overlapping. “And slow down, you know I can’t understand you when you talk that fast!”

Rian interjects. “I can’t understand you. Either of you⁠—”

Alejandro and I nearly lunge on him. “Shut up!”

He startles and seals his lips.

“I cannot believe you shot my boyfriend. Are you out of your mind? You could’ve killed someone.”

“¿Novio? ¿Tu novio?” he mimics, voice dripping with disgust. “Primero muerto. Dile a tu güerito mocoso que salga para que podamos hablar.”

“He’s bleeding.”

“He’ll survive,” Alejandro fires back.

I almost tell him to fuck off. To jump in front of a moving train, take a gander at breathing under water, eat a bullet from his gun.

Almost.

My jaw clenches and I turn to Rian. “Are you all right getting home?”

There’s an edge to his voice when he says, “Are you serious?”

“We need to speak and we can’t do that with a third person in the way,” I reply.

Rian’s tone is practically lethal. “In the way?” he annunciates.

I give him a pleading look. “Rian...”

I know he sees this as me prioritizing Alejandro, but we haven’t seen each other in person since I left last year and there’s a lot we need to talk about. I had intended for most of our correspondence to go through our lawyers from now on but seeing as he’s already here, we might as well take care of things in person. Gino said he emailed Alejandro’s lawyers late this afternoon to let them know we were accepting his offer on the Barcelona house. Alejandro has a nonexistent sleep schedule so it wouldn’t surprise me if he was working around the clock and found out somehow. Which means it took him less than ten hours to jump on a plane and fly over here…

I try not to think of how my heart flutters at the thought.