SO COLD (18+) currently editing

Chapter 77

listen to the song

SO COLD

"¿Cómo estás?" Cebrián kissed my cheeks, strong hands gripping my forearms as he pulled back, intelligent brown eyes observing me, a flicker of distaste briefly discolouring his expression as he noted the torn jeans I wore. It was worse than last time: before it was ripped knees now I wore ripped thigh jeans. "¿Puedo comprarte ropa?"

"Déjala," Cole waved away his father's sarcastic remark, and shrugged off his coat, slipping it on the coat hanger in the hallway and inquiring about his sleep. "¿Ha dormido usted bien?"

"Sí," Cebrián answered, and asked Cole if he had eaten breakfast this morning. He informed him that there was cooked meat and rice in the kitchen, already packed in boxes for Cole to take home. As their mother tongues pronounced words I couldn't recognise nor understand, I stepped aside for Trevor to come in, mouth moving to engage him in pointless conversation.

The front lawn was empty. The path of pebbled stones and dusty rocks bare of heavy footings. I sought a glimpse of his golden-brown locks amongst the parked vehicles with tinted windows and anxiety fluttered its wings, panicking. The neighbourhood was quiet aside from the sharp, shrill sounds of the wind blowing. A door opened and closed. Traffic sounds in the distance. Trevor was nowhere in sight.

"Hace frío afuera. Entra o cierra la puerta." Cebrián told me to either close the front door or come in, not in favour of the brittle wind scurrying inside the toasty house.

I stepped out onto the step, hand closing around the door handle to pull shut.

"Shay." Cole called out sharply.

I shut the door. I pulled out my phone, unlocking it.

The door opened moments later. "What are you doing?" Cole's arm closed around my forearm tightly, expression discoloured in displeasure, angry brows yanked down over a hard gaze. "Get in."

I would've stumbled over the front step had he not stabilised my footing – then again, I wouldn't have stumbled had he not been so heavy handed. "Where the hell is Trevor?" I shot in building anger.

"Now is not the time," his voice lowered to a murmur, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear with a forced smile, eyes darkening. "Don't cause a scene in front of my father."

"¿Qué pasa?" Cebrián pried, he placed a hand on his son's shoulder, refusing to be ignored. "Teyo?"

"No es nada serio," Cole closed the door forcefully. He reassured his father. "Todo está bien."

"No te creo," scepticism was evident in his father's tone, dusky-brown eyes sought out mine, "what's the matter?"

"Nothing." I was stiff-lipped.

"Tengo cero tiempo para tonterías. ¡Por amor del cielo, dígame!" Cebrián spoke sharply.

His son sighed heavily, rubbing a hand across his jaw. Heavy-browed, he reluctantly disclosed the orders he had passed on to the psychotic man aroused by the sight of blood. Irvin's name was mentioned thrice, curse words following generously.

"I'll take the boy to the farm–"

"Perdón," I interjected immediately, "but that is worse than the first plan."

"¿Qué sugieres?" Although Cebrián kept a smile in place it was as cold as the wind outside.

"Call him and allow him to apologise, sooth your pride," I took a dig at Cole who made a noise in the back of his throat, continuing, "without guns, of course, or any threats. Then forgive and move the hell on."

"Nunca en mi vida había oído tantas tonterías." Cebrián repudiated in stinging disdain. "My men will take him today. If after a month in my company the boy refuses to part with his insolence, I will shoot him dead. And no more will be said on the matter."

"The boy," I started disrespectfully, in an all-consuming rage, flushed, "will be begging for lead before you so much as raise the gun. Might as well put the fucking gun in his mouth and shoot already."

"Learn to be quiet." Unkind eyes fixed on me, tensed jawed, Cebrián continued. "Before you fall where you cannot stand again. Come. The men are waiting."

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shouldve been longer but im tired as hell and my translations are probs shit correct me if im wrong