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I heard enough.
“And what about the people who want to hurt you!” I shouted at her,
“Just because I was hurt does not mean I want to hurt others!”
“Why?” I questioned her,
“Why shouldn’t the people who try to hurt you be punished?”
“BECAUSE I DO NOT WANT TO BECOME MY MOTHER!”
She yelled and I could see the orange in her eyes slightly expand.
“ I learned the basics of how to protect myself because I did not want to be powerless ever again. I didn’t want to be hurt again, but I will not become my mother, I will not become the monster she said I would be.”
“Powerless is the last word I would use to describe you.”
Catalina might be a lot of things. A raging pain in my ass, loud, vocal, and, hotheaded sometimes downright unbearable but powerless? Never.
Her soft green eyes found mine, still holding on to that little bit of orange that was gracefully fading away.
“Tell me more,” I whispered,
Why the hell did I just say that?
“Why do you even want to know?”
“Maybe because I would like to get to know you. Maybe because I want to believe that the person Gabriel sees is still somewhere inside you.”
Because I wanted to. I wanted to know more about her. I wanted to know everything about her.
For more information on how to help her. Obviously.
“I’ll make you a deal, I’ll let you train me and I will tell you whatever you want to know about me,”
I’d like that.
“But I want something in return, one favor from you.”
Training her would not only possibly solve the issue of the reckless behavior, bringing me closer to my goal of getting out of here as soon as possible, but I would also get to know more about her. And all it would cost me was one favor. It was a win for everyone involved.
“With training you, I might have to touch you, would that be alright?”
Catalina’s body stiffened for all of one second and In that one simple second I could see a million ideas floating in her head,
“I promise if you ask me to stop, I’ll stop. Nothing will happen that you are not okay with.”
“Promise?”
I nodded,
“I promise.”
“Very well then, it’s a deal.” She smirked at me, as she took my hand in hers. Her small freckled olive hand was such a stark contrast to my tanned, scarred, tattooed hand.
“A deal with the devil. You know my mother warned me about things like this.” She smirked as she released my hand.
“Well, I am very glad you decided not to listen to her antics.”
