Chapter 88

catalina's pov The warehouse smelled like damp cement mixed with rust. I ought not to have come by myself. The silence was the wrong sort of quiet thick, as if it were hiding something behind every pipe and shadow. I held my breath when the boots softly scraped concrete. He was right there. Emiliano moved from the shadows as if he had been waiting for me. I say nothing. Neither was he. We just gazed at one another, letting that distance between us simmer. You followed me, I said at last. "Didn't have to," he said, slumping against a cracked pillar. You move as your mother does. Powerful. Always feeling as though you are cautious. He seemed thinner than he had been a year ago. Eyes darker. Lesser. "I'm not here to play games." “Good. Neither am I here to tutor you. I squeezed my jaw. Inside my coat pockets, my palms were damp. "You should not be here, Catalina." Still yet, here you are too. Something pulsing under my ribs could be felt. Though I wasn't sure, I told myself it was anger.