𝗙𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗸𝗶𝗲

26 - Primal Urges.

As the seconds slid past, I could feel Hector's comforting gaze burn a hole in my otherwise passive exterior. "Talk to me," he said gently.

His plea caused my emotions to waver, and my throat felt impossibly dry. "It's all my fault," I murmured, my words barely managing to echo through the large space.

"Hey, look at me." As his strong hands held my face, a sharp surge of comfort momentarily numbing the dread within me, his gentle voice compelled me to face him, "Don't blame yourself."

"It's all on me, Hector. I let her go even though every fiber of my being screamed not to!" My retort fell onto him like shards of shattered glass.

With a steady gaze that calmed my anger, Hector broke the silence. "Okay, tell me how. I am here to listen," he gently urged.

A deep, calming sigh managed to break free from my lips as I reclined on the comfort of the couch, staring unseeingly at the ceiling above.

"I met Layla when I was representing her then boyfriend, Javier Garcia, he was a member of the Los Zetas," I paused momentarily before pushing through. "Every time he brought her to our meetings, she'd clumsily hide a new bruise under layers of makeup. He ended up getting a three-year prison sentence, and that's when I decided to help her out. I was planning to take care of him behind bars, but she refused. But I had to make sure he straightened up."

Hector observed me quietly before putting together his thoughts, "You're saying Garcia could be behind their disappearance?" he speculated, to which I couldn't help but sneer.

"I have no doubts about it. The fucker must've been relentless, scouring the entire country for her like a fucking maniac!" My voice filled with venom. The dreadful helplessness seeping into my bones threatened to strangle me.

──●◎●──

Every nerve in my body felt like it was on fire, I was holding onto any semblance of patience, waiting for any sort of news about Andy and Layla. As each agonizing moment ticked by, the tension increased.

Hector stayed with Noah the entire night, diverting his attention by engaging him in his favorite video game. It warmed my heart to see him going to such great lengths for us.

"Did you eat anything at all?" Hector asked as sauntered inside the living room.

In response, I merely shook my head, food being the last thing on my mind. "How is he doing?"

"He's sleeping now," he replied. "The day took quite a toll on him."

A rush of gratitude filled me again, the words tumbling out before I had the chance to suppress them. "Hector, I can't thank you enough, really." I said.

Raising his eyebrows, he retorted playfully, "Well, actually, you can." I could see the glint in his eye before he added, I'm hungry. "What do you say we eat?"

Food seemed so irrelevant in the moment and my appetite was long gone. "I really don't feel like eating, but I can ask Olivia to make you something," I offered.

Seemingly not interested in my offer, Hector moved closer, grasping my hand gently. His touch ignited a trail of warmth along my arm. He led me to the kitchen without uttering a single word.

Once there, with an ease that caught me off guard, he lifted me up onto the cool surface of the kitchen counter. Then, he pivoted and navigated towards the fridge, effortlessly pulling out the strawberry jam and a jar of peanut butter.

Watching him move with such natural elegance left me in awe of his graceful masculinity.

He was a sight for sore eyes.