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"I can't just walk away from you," Catalina said, tears welling up in her eyes.
"It's not about walking away from me," I replied, my voice stern. "It's about keeping you safe. You have to understand that. If you stay with me, you'll always be in danger."
"But I love you," she said, her voice breaking. "I can't just turn my back on that."
"I love you too," I said, my own voice betraying my emotions. "But love isn't always enough. Sometimes you have to make the hard choices, the ones that hurt the most."
"I don't want to lose you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"I don't want to lose you either," I said, reaching out to cradle her cheek.
We sat there in silence for a few moments, each lost in our own thoughts. The weight of our situation hung heavy in the air, suffocating us both. Before she left, I kissed her, long and hard. A last kiss that she’d remember me by.
I wasn’t sure what the future held at this point, but as long as she was alive, I was satisfied. I vowed to come back and here I was. When you had nothing left, your word was the only thing that mattered. I could only hope Jameson saw that in me as he made his decision.
23
CATALINA
I satin front of Jameson, my hands nervously twisting the hem of my shirt. They had separated me from Snare, and I had no idea where he was being held. Jameson's eyes were fixed on me, taking in my disheveled appearance. My hands were still shaking, and the rope burn on my wrists stung. The rats had eaten at my toes while I sat there, numb, with my father's lifeless body beside me.
I had been beaten severely; my left eye was swollen shut, and my forehead still burned. As I gingerly touched my forehead, the pain made me hiss. The right side of my face felt like it had been hit with a heavy object. I licked my lip, tasting the dried blood that had oozed from the torn flesh. I was shivering, still in shock from the ordeal.
Jameson's voice snapped me out of my daze. "Put a blanket on her, for God's sake!"
I raised my gaze to meet Jameson's, and to my surprise, I noticed a hint of kindness in his eyes that contradicted his previous menacing demeanor. "You're Jameson," I whispered, trying to steady my voice.
"Yes, that's right," he replied.
"Snare spoke about you to me. He said he owes you his life."
Jameson's eyes flickered to a man standing against the wall in the back of the room. The man had tattoos inked on his arms, and his scowl made me uneasy. He seemed to be staring straight through me, trying to read my thoughts. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, feeling intimidated by his presence.
"Don't worry," Jameson said as he draped a blanket over my shoulders. "Nobody here will hurt you."
I clutched the blanket tightly, feeling like it was my only shield against the menacing men in the room.
"We can't go to the police," Jameson said.
"I know," I sniffled, trying to compose myself.
"But there's a place I know that can help you. It's safe and discreet."
"I don't have anyone else, except for Snare," I admitted, meeting Jameson's gaze.
He frowned, then looked over at the man with the tattoos. "Grim?"
"She's telling the truth," Grim said gruffly. "I can sense her sadness."
"We still need to question Snare," Jameson said, his eyes returning to mine. "After that, we'll decide what to do."
"If you're questioning Snare, then you should question me too," I said firmly. "I was the lead witness. The blade was held tomythroat."
Grim slid into the seat next to Jameson. "Keep talking," he growled.
"Snare warned Guardrail, but he didn't listen. He threatened to hurt me and kept talking about how it was going to be a long night for us, insinuating he going to…"
"Snare put a a bullet in Guardrail's head," Jameson added gravely.
