The idea of this seems to entertain her. “You like wanting to kill people? Do you think it will make you feel better once my father is dead? Do you think you will suddenly hurt less, miss Laura less, because you have ended his life?”
I’m silent for a second. There are plenty of things I could say in response to her question. I consider saying something about justice, that it’s not how it makes me feel afterwards that matters. That I’m just doing what I think is right, to balance the scales of right and wrong in the universe. I consider telling her that I’m planning on killing her father to prevent him from hurting any other innocent people in the future. I could say I’m plotting out Fernando’s downfall in order to help the people that are currently held captive in his house. But at the end of the day, none of these are the true reason for me remaining behind in Orellana.
“I do think it will make me feel better,” I say quietly. “He’s stolen something precious from me. My sister. Years of my life while I’ve been searching for her. My happiness. These things are all invaluable, I understand that. Nothing I could take from him with make up for what I’ve lost. But I know exactly how it will feel when I make Fernando beg for his life. I already know how sweet the vengeance is going to taste. It’ll blaze through me, righteous and all consuming, and for a moment I’ll feel vindicated. It won’t last long. As soon as I’ve seen the light flicker out in his eyes, and as soon as his body has gone cold, I know the hurt and the pain and the loss will return. But I need that moment of victory. I need to know that he’s paid the highest price imaginable for his sins. That’s all there is to it.”
Natalia closes her eyes, breathing out slowly. She sounds like she’s about to burst into tears.
“What is it? You don’t want him dead after all?”
“No. It’s not that. It’s just…my entire life, I’ve been surrounded by violent men. I’ve watched anger and hatred eating them alive on a daily basis. I think I’m beginning to lose hope.”
“Hope of what?”
She pauses. The sound of the rain hammers down on the tree house roof, stealing the silence for a second. “Hope that there are any kindhearted, gentle men left in the world,” she says. She speaks so quietly that I have to strain to hear her over the roar of the rain.
I don’t really know what to say to that. I’d love to tell her that I am capable of such a thing, of having a kind heart, but I don’t think that’s true anymore. I haven’t felt like that in a long time. Truthfully, I probably lost any soft edges I may have ever possessed long before Laura even went missing, back when I was in the military, scraping people off the desert floor. It’s easy to blame the turmoil of my soul on Laura’s disappearance, but it’s only partly responsible. I’ve been fucked up and angry for a very long time.
I do something I really shouldn’t. I reach and I stroke my hand over her wet hair. Her eyes are still closed, but she tenses even before I’ve touched her, as if she’s expecting me to do it. If there was any way for me to be a gentle man again, she would inspire it in me. “I’m sure there’s someone out there that fits the bill,” I tell her quietly. “The world’s a big place. And there are millions of guys who haven’t been jacked up by war, or drugs, or murder. All you have to do is find your way out of this forest, and you can have your pick of any of them.”
She smiles, and it’s a painfully sad smile. “But what if I don’t want my pick of them? What if I’ve already set my sights on someone else? Someone dangerous, who enjoys his vices a little too much?”
Oh, fuck.
I’ve felt the tension between us. I’ve been hyper sensitive to it, but I’ve been trying to ignore it, because Fernando’s a fucking psychopath. Natalia isn’t helping matters by insinuating things like this. Still, I’m concerned, but I’m also really fucking happy at the same time. “We all want things that aren’t good for us, Natalia. Sometimes the wanting is the fun part. It’s just the having part can be too damned dangerous sometimes.”
Finally, she opens her eyes. Beautiful dark cat’s eyes. “Are you saying I’m not worth the risk, Mr. America?”
She doesn’t get it. She thinks I’m worried about my safety, that I won’t chase after her because her father might come for me. I twist a piece of her hair around my finger, intrigued by how long, how soft, how silky it is. “I’m not afraid of Fernando, Natalia. Not for my own sake. But you…I worry about what he would do to you if he discovered something he didn’t like.”
She sits up a little straighter, angling her head to one side. “He’s ruled my life since I was old enough to walk. Shouldn’t I be allowed to make my own decisions by now? Take my own risks.” She smiles. “Have vices of my own?”