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"Most of the time, yes. What do you do?" Abigail presses the button for the elevator, taking them to the underground floor.
"I'm an accountant for a tax office."
When the elevator reaches the bottom, the doors open, but Abigail doesn't allow her to exit. She blocks her in a corner, placing her hands on the wall on each side of her.
"Are you an accountant, wanting to open a churro stand?" Abigail asks with absolute intrigue.
Gretel feels her legs turn to butter having her so close. Daringly, she takes off Abigail's sunglasses because she needs to see her eyes and the sparkle they emit when Abigail smiles.
"I'm fed up with numbers, calls, and dealing with a hypocritical boss who's been promising a raise for five years. I love churros; they're simple and delicious, everyone likes them," Gretel argues, shrugging to keep her heart from escaping her chest.
"I prefer the future churro maker," Abigail responds, getting a bit closer, "but I can make room for those churros too."
Nothing delights Gretel more than the idea of having her own churro stand and sharing churros with chocolate with the executive. However, she doesn't say it because she can't contain herself and kisses her as if she needs her to breathe. Abigail responds despite the pricks of pain in her nose, and they devour each other with devotion until the lack of air forces them to stop. Abigail rests her forehead against Gretel's, swallowing saliva as she catches her breath.
"We'll get through this, I promise. And you'll have your churro stand, and I'll come to see you every morning," she whispers with sincerity and a genuine desire for it to come true.
Gretel nods, smiling explosively. She feels like crying at that moment too many emotions in a very short time. She should be sad about Pol, and yet, she only feels excitement at the idea of seeing Abigail every day. She worries that it's all a smokescreen she created to hide the pain she should feel for her marriage falling apart. But then she thinks about the uncontrolled desire she feels when she's with her, how she starts to lose her breath when Abigail looks at her, or the shivers that run through her body when she's touched. And then Gretel is certain that what she's starting to feel for Abigail is real the smokescreen was her marriage.
"Come on, we have to go back. We'll figure out the best solution along the way," Abigail says, pulling her.
The two step out of the elevator with their hearts still racing. Abigail presses the button on the car remote, and the lights of a silver Mercedes flicker. Gretel settles in beside her, feeling like the seat was custom-made, smiling without knowing why.
"If we end up in jail, I hope they at least lock us up together," Abigail says before starting the car.
Chapter 10
Recently promoted Sergeant Cruz Ortega of OCON Sur (Anti-Drug Trafficking Coordination Agency) in the Civil Guard is nervous. The first case she leads not only results in a man dead after a brutal assault, one likely not to survive, and another who will leave the hospital with a permanent limp, but to add more spice to the situation, this last one claims that Mikel Blanco, the son of Teodoro Blanco, the man monopolizing most of the unit's resources in a desperate attempt to catch him, had been kidnapped.
"We're closing in on him, and soon we'll make a massive arrest that will bring them all down, so don't mess it up," her lieutenant told her minutes ago.
"Don't mess it up?"
"Find that guy, Cruz. Teodoro is the only one we haven't located, and that's why the operation is on hold. We need them all to fall. You know how this works."
"I highly doubt Mikel will tell us where his father is, Lieutenant," she dared to say.
"You're still very green, Cruz," he said with a somewhat fraternal tone that annoyed her, "but you're smart and good at what you do. Mikel Blanco is useless, doesn't know how to do anything on his own, and lives under his father's wing. Where do you think he'll go if he manages to escape?"
Cruz held her breath and nodded in agreement; that's why he's a lieutenant, and she still has a lot to learn.
"Exactly. That wretch will return home to whine to his father and demand that anyone who has dared to harm him be wiped off the face of the earth. And his father will do it because, despite Mikel being a complete idiot, he's his son, and he has to set an example. Family is family."
"Okay, I promise I won't mess it up," Sergeant Cruz Ortega affirmed.
Now she heads to the hospital where the two survivors remain in custody. She hopes that after receiving treatment and the calming effects of painkillers, Sergio Perea, the only one of the three men she could talk to, will reveal more. This morning, when she arrived at the crime scene, she was convinced it was a settling of scores, just another one. A parking lot assault by a group of assailants who skidded in with a vehicle, according to the bar owner. They got out so quickly that the three men, who seemed agitated and were arguing about something, could barely react. They were beaten savagely, and she herself saw one of them being stabbed before running to the bar entrance to reopen and lock themselves in. Coincidentally, a patrol was passing by on a routine round. The tall man with a sickly face practically threw himself at them, asking them to stop.
As soon as they entered the parking lot, the attackers got into a silver SUV and fled the crime scene without them having a chance to note the license plate before getting out of the car to check the condition of the injured.
Sergeant Cruz Ortega identifies herself to the two Civil Guard officers guarding Sergio Perea's room and enters. The battered man looks at her from the bed with tired eyes and a face so swollen that Cruz is reminded of a pufferfish.
"How are you feeling?" she asks out of courtesy.
"What do you think?" Sergio responds wearily.
"I promise I'll let you rest soon. I just need you to answer a few questions, and I'll leave."
Sergio Perea sighs resignedly and agrees.
