Café Rouge

Chapter 27: Thinking Out Loud

Chapter 27

It's early in the morning when Lola hears the front door opening. She rises drowsily from her position on the couch where she'd been curled up for hours awaiting his return. Rolling out the kinks in her shoulders Lola silently observes the rigid posture of a man with far too much emotion bottled up in that beautifully complicated mind, jerkily stride towards her. She continues to maintain her statue posture as he slumps onto the couch, not even the generous padding of the furniture able to unburden him.

"Baby," whispers Lola gently sweeping down beside him and laying one cool palm onto that tense back of his.
The muscle under her touch twitches with desire to relax but his head won't allow it. He finds himself still reeling in that blurry grey he's been floating since the news of his father's imminent death. His mother. His brother. His father's associates. It's all his responsibility now. God...how the hell is he going to do this?

"What happened?" she softly prods causing him to lean back and pull her into his arms.
The soft mass of warm woman dissolves some of that coal resting in him. The scent of her seeps into his pores, blurring all those worries of his. The feel of her, the smell...the presence of her, it all feels so right. So much like a...home. And it won't last. His promise to her. She will gain her freedom, gain the happiness she deserves and that undoubtedly means his release of her.

"My father...he...he's going to die. Shortly. Poison. Of all the things-poison!" Carlos gives a bark of harsh laughter at that.
He always figured it would be a bullet to the head or old age that would finally cripple his unmovable father, not a few drops of some chemicals.
"God, he deserves it. The old bastard really should have been killed earlier, before he was able to procreate in fact but..."

Lola caresses his cheek, understanding dawning on her. Once again he's at war between his heart and his head, yet both of them are right. His father probably did deserve death, worse than death in fact, for all the crimes he's committed in this life but no matter what he's still Carlos's father. Despite the cruelty, the abuse and everything in between, the man created Carlos, gave him shelter, food and the bare necessities of life.
"But he's still your father and good or bad your life is going to change again. And change can be scary," babbles Lola, her reasoning causing him to frown and nod.
"It's just that I thought...I thought perhaps he was the problem. I thought not having him around would be easier now for us but I'm not prepared Lola. I hate not being prepared. And now I have all this...responsibility. And my mother...the man's not even in his grave and she just expects me to step into his shoes. I can't...I can't do that cara. I just can't."

Those stone grey orbs glistening like silver as a thick sheen of liquid glace them and with that Lola's heart breaks for him. Her arms wind around him as she exhales heavily. The poor thing.
"Oh baby, I know. It's going to be hard. It's okay, it's okay, sweetheart," she murmurs as he buries his head at space between her neck and shoulder.
His soft breath blows against her neck, sending ripples of desire down her spine but she squishes that down. For now, the man needs comfort not sex.
"Piccola," he whispers back, eyes squeezing shut to absorb those unshed tears of frustration and weakness.
She lightly digs her fingers into his broad shoulders as she feels him retreat again, pulling back into himself as he uncurls his arms from around her.
"Don't. Carlos he was-is- your father. No matter how sick and demented the man was he did one thing right. He made you and despite everything you are not him. You care. Even for an asshole like him. Don't shut yourself off from your emotions, Carlos, don't be like that. If you need to cry, need to grieve or feel sad...do it. It's just me here honey and it's not like I'm going to tell anyone is it?"

Those doe brown eyes are filled with sadness and concern for him. On his behalf she worries and that has something unsettling sinking in his heart. He doesn't want her to do that. He can't have her do that. He's a lost cause and any energy she exerts for him is a waste. He doesn't deserve her tears or her forgiveness any more than he deserves the comfort he gains from her. In fact he should be lying in a bed adjoining his father and one for his brother as well to truly wipe out the evil in their blood.