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Alejandro stares at the shipping container in front of him with a thick sense of dread clouding his senses as his mind makes the final decision.
The only lock from the outside is a rusted latch the size and length of both his forearms put together—not very secure if someone wanted to break in, rather than out—but it serves its purpose well enough. It keeps things contained. He doesn't bother announcing his presence as he lifts it, then pushes one of the doors open.
Just like before, the interior was dimly lit from the thin slats in the roof, letting in small amounts of light, but the opened door flooded the small space with it. The sun had not yet set, so It took his eyes a moment to adjust, and.. there she was.
Lounging in the chair like it was a throne, as if she was exactly where she needed to be and not a captive. Her legs were outstretched and crossed; before he had entered, it looked like she had been examining her nails, not a care in the world.
The bored expression melts from her face as he steps fully into the container, leaving the door ajar.
“Alejandro.” Valeria says, lips switching into a smirk. “Oh, how I missed you.”
He stops several feet away, grabbing the straps of his vest. “I cannot say the same to you.”
“Nosotras estamos solas.” She tells him with a head tilt. “¿Por qué hablar su idioma?”
“We’re alone.” He agrees, “I will continue to speak their language so they do not think I am conspiring with you.”
Valeria rolls her eyes. “Ellas no están espiando, you are as paranoid as ever, Alejandro.”
“With good reason.”
It was easier to do this with the brits here—they could interrogate her outright with no feelings involved, they could be around her without feeling heartbroken, and they could look at her without aching from the weight of past memories. Earlier, he had only been in the same vicinity for less than a minute before lashing out.
“What is it you want?” She leans back in her chair, unfazed by the silent battle going on in his head. “Perhaps you have come to relive old times, huh?”
“That’s not why I’m here.”
“Then cut to the chase, pendejo. Do not waste my fucking time.”
His jaw clenches, “You have nothing but time in here.”
The two of them stare at each other. She cocks her head to the side.
“So, you’ve come to kill me then?”
“No. I will see you brought to justice, like all criminals.”
“And how do you plan on doing that?
“You will be arrested after this,” He says. “I do not care what deal they made with you—you will go to prison. I will see to it personally.”
Valeria laughs. Really laughs, though it's full of mockery and completely humourless. “Prison? You are still as funny as ever, Alejandro.”
“It is not a joke.”
“Isn’t it? Your militia is corrupt, your police are corrupt, every judge, jury and executioner in this city is corrupt.”
“And who’s fault is that?”
She shrugs. “That’s the point. I won’t spend a second behind bars, because I own the prisons. I’m in control of everything. Can you say the same?”
"Control? That's all that ever mattered to you, eh?”
"Yes."
Maybe it’s the lack of hesitation that wounds him, maybe it’s the nonchalant look on her face, or the way she’s treating him like just another annoying, overbearing young blood, but the words sting regardless. He keeps his expression somewhat neutral, aside from the obvious anger lining his features and very stance.
“That’s really what you want?” He asks, “Everyone wants you dead. You’ll have a target on your back for the rest of your life.”
“Our jobs have the same level of danger, no? We both face death each day.”
“On different sides.”
“It’s all the same in this city.”
He’s heard that one before, from locals and outsiders alike. “It’s not. You are delusional.”
She rolls her eyes again.
“I could get you out of this.” He offers, “I can help you.”
“You think I want that?”
“I think you want to help Las Almas, but you’re doing it the wrong way.” In an act of bravery, he takes a step forward. He’s not afraid of her at all—just afraid of how his body, his heart might react if he gets too close. “You grew up here too, it must hurt to see what has become of it.”
Valeria simply stares at him, eyes slightly narrowed but it’s clear she’s digesting his words and he’s stupid enough to hope she’ll actually give them some semblance of consideration. Hope was a dangerous thing to have, but these days, he seemed he have quite a bit.
“You are good at what you do, Alejandro. I’ll give you that.” She finally speaks, and the praise takes him by surprise. “And that boyfriend of yours, as well. How about you both come work for me, eh?”
“I’d sooner die.”
“And you will. Soon enough.” Is the deadpan response, “But, you said it yourself. You’re trying to help Las Almas. So am I.”
He lets out a bitter laugh. “You are not helping, you are destroying our home, letting the cartel run rampant, assisting these terrorists. Do you know the destruction caused by simply trying to capture him?”
Valeria’s lips twitch into a smile, “The destruction you caused, you mean? I’m aware. I was impressed with how many you and those blanquitos killed just to get your hands on Hassan.”
“They were yours. Men you paid and corrupted.”
“Still, deaths you caused. What of their poor, poor families, Alejandro?” She leans forward. “Lives wasted for nothing.”
He says nothing.
“I’m sure you could have saved them too, no?” Her voice is dripping with mockery as she pretends to pout. “They would have switched sides if you just asked nicely, had you said please, right?”
Still, he tries to push down the bubbling anger.
“The cartels, too. Do you intend to save them with the power of love? If you get on your knees and beg them to reconsider, will they have a change of heart?" She pauses, "¿Crees que eres mejor que yo? No, no lo eres."
“No estaré asociada con personas como tu.” He grits out, taking a few steps forward. “Eres una desgracia para ti mismo!”
In response, she just smirks
He stops, realizing his mis-step.
“Still so easy to rile up.” She says, “Siempre me ha gustado ese fuego en ti..”
He forces himself back into silence, clenching his teeth so hard he’s worried they might shatter. Perhaps if he bites his own tongue off, he will no longer act like a fool in front of her. Her eyes roam over him and he’s paralyzed by their weight. Despite everything he feels right now, it’s impossible not to be transfixed by them.
Because Rodolfo had been the first to point out how destructive they were with one another; how all she had to do was stare at him with those gorgeous, half-lidded eyes and he would have done anything she wanted. Rudy had been his man of reason, the first one to clear the fog from Alejandro's head.
So he turns away, slowly pacing around his half of the shipping container while he clears his mind. He didn’t have much time left with her and at this point, couldn’t even remember the excuse he came up with to justify coming here. Did he really think just talking to her would be enough? That he’d be enough, when he wasn’t before?
He cannot reason or argue with her, so he does the only thing Rodolfo had warned him against the second after they discovered she was El Sin Nombre. His friend had pulled him aside before they brought Valeria to the container, urged him to stay outside and let the brits handle it, but he just couldn’t stay away. He had to see her.
Alejandro turns to face her once more, meeting her intense stare and he knows she’s expecting some snarky, belittling remark that can easily be deflected back onto him, but he does the opposite. He exhales quietly and shows her; how desperate he feels, how lost. He opens up and bares his heart to her
“Let me help you.” comes out weaker than intended and far more strained—he’s ashamed to feel so vulnerable in front of her, knowing this new version of her would rip him to shreds. He was yelling in her face earlier, fucking fuming at the turn of events, but now? “Please.”
It’s clear that had been the last thing she expected.
Valeria blinks, forgetting to mask the surprise that washes over her face.
For a moment, that facade drops.. And he sees her.
Those soft brown eyes that used to look at him with such tenderness, even if they hadn’t labelled whatever relationship they had; around him, her expression was always gentle, relaxed.. happy. At least, for a short time. She still had a sharp tongue, ready to tear him or anyone else a new one at any time, and that’s why he liked her.
But their personalities clashed; both of them always needed to be the most imposing figure in the room, needing to be the one people looked to when someone asked who was in charge. They’d fought often and though it was quickly resolved, that underlying tension still burned, like a powder keg about to explode. And maybe that's why it fell apart.
She’d always been strong and fierce—always had a fire that burned brighter than anything he’d ever experienced—but it was contained. Now, it consumed her, engulfing her very soul in flames and set her down a path of pure chaos. She always needed control, and now she had it.. Absolute, total authority with no one to question it.
No one would ever give that up, he knew that. And maybe it was better this way; at least he knew who was in charge of destroying Las Almas, knew who to blame when El Sin Nombre’s men killed his. If she stepped away, someone worse would take her place, and there would be nothing left of their home to salvage.
At least when he died fighting, he’d know who’s name to curse.
“Help me?” Her voice was quiet, stilled, like the calm before a storm. “Why now, and not when you saw how poorly I was being treated in the army? When you heard what they said to me, what they wanted to do?”
He swallows roughly, recalling the memory. "You told me not to interfere. You never wanted my help."
She never wanted to look weak; she’d been embarrassed the first and only time he snapped on the men in his unit for degrading her, to her face. After that, he’d only heard rumours of what the women were going through. Though he privately tried to resolve the issues and tensions between units, it never seemed to stick.
Valeria rises to her feet, eyes locked on his.
He tenses, but he remains locked in place, not allowing himself to move closer; he worries what he might do if she touches him, what he might feel. There’s no guarantee that he won't make the first move either, since brushing the stray hairs out of her face had become second nature.. though now, he risks having an arm broken.
Those eyes search his face again, studying the emotion displayed there while her own remains unreadable. That shock had only lasted a fraction of a second, but at least she no longer regarded him with a mocking sneer.
"You’re right. I never wanted your help." Her eyes burn right through him; it’s a kind of deep, simmering rage that he’s never experienced before and only then, does he realize how badly he had misjudged the situation. How broken this crack between them really was. "But, Alejandro.. I needed it.”
He stares back in this unblinking staring contest, but his heart pounds in his ears so loud that he can’t hear anything but it and her revelation. It was more than a crack between them, more than a rift, it was more unfixable than he imagined—he should have known that the woman he cared so much for was hurting so deeply, so profoundly.
Apologies wouldn’t fix this; not that they ever did. Still, he wants to say anything at all though his mind is blank for the first time. The words simply will not come, so she shakes her head.
At his silence, she says: "I don't need your help. Not anymore." Her face hardens again, yet he can hear the faint tremble of her voice—can hear the hesitation, and it nearly destroys him. "I don't need you. No necesito a nadie más que a mí mismo.”
Alejandro stands there, trying to force that neutral expression back to his face, but his eyes display everything—sadness and guilt overtake him, and he wants to be angry but can’t find the energy. He’s spent too long being angry with her. He held his heart in his hands, knowing she’d take any scrap of vulnerability and use it against him.
She tilts her chin up, and as if to shatter what was left of it with a baseball bat, she echos: "I don't need you, Alejandro.”
He lowers his head, swallowing roughly.
And Rudy was right, as always.. meeting her wouldn’t end well, it would dig up painful memories and bring more pain than solace—it wasn’t getting closure, it was ripping open old wounds just because he was a stubborn man that wouldn’t let the past go.
He has nothing more to say, so he leaves.
For the second time, he walks away from her. For the second time, he leaves a part of himself behind with a woman who both broke and owns his heart. For the second time, he hesitates.
But for the first time, he doesn't look back.