Dressing in black jeans, a navy blue top and black leather jacket, Nat checked her phone for messages. They were to be contacted with the first instructions as soon as Trent received information off his spies and had any idea what exactly was so fucked up around here. There were no messages so Nat pulled on her black boots, zipped them up and went in search of the dining room. She spotted Sands seated at a table by the window by himself. He wasn't eating anything, just sat in thought. She grabbed a plate of toast and headed over to him, sitting in the seat opposite.
"Hey Sands."
"Nat…I need to talk to you about what happened. I…"
"Sands. I know you hate me for leaving but I had no choice. I loved you and I thought you knew that. But when someone you love so much starts to waste themselves away in front of you and there's nothing they'll let you do to help, it hurts, Sands, so fucking much. I couldn't just sit by and watch you do that to yourself."
"I don't hate you for leaving. But why? Why did it affect you so much?"
Natalie sighed, running her hands through her wavy brown hair. "There's something I never told you, Sands. I'm sorry, I know I should have but it…it always hurt to talk about it." She took a deep breath. "You know that my real father died when I was nine. What you don't know is why." She paused. Tears were stinging her eyes. She'd never told this to anyone, not even her best friend, Charlotte. "He was hooked on heroin. He'd been injecting it ever since I was about three but he never really got seriously ill until I was seven. I remember he used to be in hospital a lot and he was always pale with huge bags under his eyes. I used to ask why he was ill but he just told me I wouldn't understand and one day my brother told me what was really going on. And I didn't." A small tear ran down Nat's cheek. "I couldn't understand. My own dad was dying and I didn't know…I always hated my father when he had died and I realised what had happened. How could he do that to us?" She broke off as more tears fell. Sands touched her hand with his.
"Shhh, baby. It's alright. I'm so sorry, Nat. You should never have had to go through that at that age. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. I had no idea, Nat, I'm so fucking sorry. Please don't cry. Please forgive me, please." He felt like shit. Nat had always been so strong. He couldn't imagine something like that hanging over her life. He really had had no idea. How fucking stupid was he? He knelt down on the floor beside her, holding her hands in his, turning her face towards him. Still the tears fell. "Nat, please don't. I'm so fucking sorry. Everything's my fault, I know that now. Please just don't be upset." Her sobs quietened slightly and she leant forward into his arms, suddenly exhausted.
"I don't blame you, Sands. I love you, I always will. It just hurts so much." She felt him run his fingers through her hair. He could tell she was tired and stood up, pulling her with him. He couldn't stand this side of her, it broke his heart, something he never thought possible anymore. He didn't think he had a heart. He held her by the hand and led her to the elevator, to their room and he tucked her into bed. Within minutes she was asleep again. He sat by the bed, stroking her hair gently, thinking.
She had said she still loved him. Did she mean it like he thought she did? Or was it a 'you'll always be my friend, no matter what' type of love. Damn it, why was it so confusing? When they had broken up, he felt as though he'd had his heart torn out. He'd never loved anything since Natalie and now that feeling seemed to be back. He found himself wanting to care for her, to hold her and kiss her, tell her everything would be alright. But he couldn't do that unless he knew she meant that she loved him back. He groaned softly. Everything was such a mess and they'd only met up again twenty four hours ago.
Sands sat on the couch, thinking and listening to her breathing until she woke up an hour and a half later. He smiled gently at her and she responded with a quiet "Hi". By the time she had had a shower and got dressed it was almost lunchtime and she was feeling slightly better. The two decided to go and find a decent restaurant for lunch. They knew they were both thinking about what they had been talking about but decided not to mention it and just try to enjoy the day. Sitting at the table, having given the waiter the order, they discussed the upcoming assignment.
"When do you think Trent will know something?" Nat asked.
"No idea," he replied, gently holding her hand lying on the table. Although they knew it was a cover-up, it did feel rather nice. "All we can do is wait. What do you say I show you round the finer parts of Mexico while we wait? We'll be bored out of our minds if we don't do something."
"That sounds good to me," she agreed. The waiter arrived at the table, handing them their meals. They ate in a comfortable silence, letting the food fill them up and feeling their worries push to the back of their minds. "Is there anything you eat apart from puerco pibil?" she asked.
He smiled at her. "Sometimes. You can't deny a good tequila though, you have to admit." She smiled and shrugged.
"I suppose."
Sands paid the bill and they took a walk round the streets, Nat looking around at the new place. She couldn't say that she was very impressed with it. Perhaps it had looked better before the Day of the Dead, but now it seemed like a mess. Her sister, Sam, had asked her to bring back a souvenir for her but honestly, Nat couldn't see why she would want anything from here.
Sands and Nat chatted lightly as the day wore on. They'd walked a long while and it was a hot day. It was almost half six when Sands stomach rumbled loudly again. Nat laughed quietly and he smiled at her. He loved her laugh. They decided to return to the hotel and eat dinner there, as they were tired from the long day. They went up to the room and Nat lay down on the bed while Sands sat on the couch.
"You tired?" he asked her. He heard her shrug.
"Not really. You?" He shook his head. She wanted to ask him something but wasn't sure how he'd take it. "Sands, could I ask you something?" He nodded and she took a deep breath. "What happened on the Day of the Dead? Not here, I mean, with you. Who did that to you?" She saw him tense slightly but he began to answer her in a bitter voice.
"There was this girl I'd been with for a while. I thought I could trust her so I told her all my plans. I was actually going to run away with her after the Day of the Dead, give her a portion of that money but…well I guess it came as a shock when I found out she was Barillo's daughter."
"You were fucking Barillo's daughter? How did you get yourself into that one?"
"She was hot and seemed willing enough. Seemed pretty harmless at the time. Anyway, next thing I knew I was drugged and tied to a table and she watched while Barillo's personal sick doctor drilled my eyes out. Apparently I'd seen too much." There was hatred in his voice and Nat just heard him mumble "That fucking bitch."
Nat was quiet for a while. She was curious. Sure, it would probably look horrible, but she'd seen some pretty fucked up things in her life. "Can I see?" He raised his head in her direction.
"It ain't pretty. You sure you really want to?" He heard her whisper 'yes' and move over to sit beside him on the couch. "Just don't run away scared. I did warn you." Slowly his hand moved to the shades covering his sockets and he removed them, waiting for her reaction. He was surprised to say the least when her fingers lightly touched his cheeks and he felt her lean forwards. Her fingertips massaged his cheekbones, carefully avoiding the holes.
"Does it hurt?" She whispered. He shook his head.
"Not anymore. It nearly fucking killed me when they did it though. I'd never actually wanted to die so badly as I did right then." He paused and heard her shaky breathing. Suddenly she gave a strangled sob, as if she was trying to hide it. "Hey, don't. It's me who's blind, remember?" She nodded, trying desperately to stop the tears. "Don't go pitying me now," he said.
"Do you ever think about anything but your pride?" she said quietly. He sighed and turned away.
"You don't know what it's like. To always be so calm about everything. So in control. And then some fuckmook goes and pulls the rug from under your feet and you end up flat on your face. You don't know, Natalie. You can't understand."
"Let me try," she pleaded. "Tell me, talk to me. Help me understand." He shook his head. Understanding it would hurt her, fuck her life up like it did to his. How could he do that to her?
"I'm tired," Sands stood up. "I'm gonna go to sleep, ok?" She disappeared to the bathroom to get ready for bed and he lay on the couch. Once again, he fell asleep drifting in his thoughts.