Isabella Reyes did not mind living in the United States. There were plenty of days she missed parts of her life back in Mexico, but those moments were few and far between. Her journey to this point in her life was filled with tragedy and so eye-opening she knew she could never go back. In fact, if Isabella ever had the opportunity to tell her father how disgusted she was by the life he led she would do it in a heartbeat.
Over the past five years, she could have contacted him. The girl knew her fatherâs phone number and his email address. Mexico was not the third world - just scary. The real Mexico. The parts her fathered owned. Nowadays it would appear that Carlos Reyes owned plenty of things to keep him in power. But Isabella knew just as equally that talking to her father would get the people she now cared about killed. Alejandro was already gone and had it not been for him she would be dead as well.
This fact did not stop her from hoping that he was alive though it seemed to piss off her guardian angel. Matt Graver was that so-called angel. Over the past five years, sheâd seen him at least once a month. One year at Christmas he flew her to New York to see the tree lighting but that never happened again so she would go online and watch it. The U.S. Government decided they should pay for her education given every visit from Matt meant another folder full of pictures to look at and more faces to identify. The routine was getting old. Isabella liked her primary guard Gemma - it helped she spoke Spanish fluently. She liked the visits from Matt but it was a mundane routine that frequently found her bored so she would surf in the hopes of discovering anything to prove Alejandro Gillick did not die in the desert that day she became an American.
She could hear Mattâs voice before he exited the small house that had become her home. Every visit was the same. When he showered her with compliments about her testing, Isabella could not help but think something very wrong had taken place. âWhat is up, Matt? You never come bearing compliments only pictures. Yet I do not see the folder. Did you leave it inside? Is the heat too much?â Her accent was still thick despite the years spent in his country. Flecks of grey covered his head now and she thought for a moment it looked good on him. She was twenty-four now and had never known a man or anything of real social life since leaving her home country. If she had to look at a man, he would do.
âPlease tell me, are Steven and Rennie okay? They were not hurt on your recent assignment?â She figured if she kept the conversation steering in an alternate direction he would forget that she searched yet again for Gillick. The speech was always the same but Isabella felt in her gut that he was still alive.
Originally posted by leofromthedark
Five years ago Matt had set out on a seemingly normal mission, seemingly being the operative word. It was similar to his days overseas, the only difference was the players. He was supposed to start a war between two cartels and then step back while they tore each other apart. It was all part of a greater plan, and as always he took his orders and played his part. Matt followed the rules, loose as they might seem to some, took his orders and kept moving. All of that changed five years ago when everything he fought for, everything he believed was called into question and what was once a solid foundation was now quicksand.
Someone he valued deeply, dare he say a friend, was killed and if that weren't enough to anger him the worst part was that he might have had to do it. He was still working for the CIA, but now every mission seemed like a bitter pill to swallow. He supposed it was why he had given the biggest Fuck You to his job that he possibly could when he brought Isabella back to the United States and placed her in protective custody. His boss was far from happy about that but now that he had the girl on US soil he knew her hands were tied. Matt had to admit this brought him more than a little bit of pleasure and satisfaction. It was also the only way he knew how to honor his friendship with Alejandro and mourn his friend. The man had put his life on the line for Isabella, and in return Matt would keep her safe. After all it was the very least he could do.Â
When Gemma called to tell him that Isabella was once again looking for Alejandro it opened up all those old wounds and hurts. It pained him that she would do something that would only bring her continued pain. For Matt it was like continuing to pull a scab off, never letting the wound heal. He tried his best to give Isabella a good life in the US, to pull her away from this dream that was simply never going to be a reality, but time and again she continued to cause herself pain. He couldn't bring himself to let that hope in, he had seen the man dead, there was no coming back and that was the end of it.
Bringing her to US soil had cost him though, and part of his punishment for disobeying orders and tying their hands was bringing a folder every month and forcing Isabella to name faces and places. If the US was going to take care of her she would pay them back with her knowledge. Matt hated doing it, it wasn't that he didn't like seeing the little Spanish spit fire, it was more that he felt the government never wanted her to forget she was the daughter of a cartel leader and would not be more. Which was confusing since the government also paid for her education. Matt guess that had more to do with making themselves look good, and charitable than anything else. Considering the cluster fuck of trying to start this war they did indeed have a lot to make up for.Â
Letting out a deep laugh he sighed, and gave a shake of his head. "Wow, I sound like an asshole. I mean I am, but still. All I do is come here and make you work, and shit do I never give compliments. I mean you're so suspicious of them." Taking a sip of his water he barked out another laugh. "You know you need to learn to trust me at some point. I can actually come here and not bring a folder." Arching a brow almost in challenge he chuckled again. "No the heat isn't too much. Trust me I'd take this heat any day over the desert."
Shaking his head he went serious, she was obviously concerned and that was one thing he didn't want to do. Isabella was in his care now, and she was important. Worrying her was unacceptable. "Steven and Rennie are fine. Rennie took a bullet in the shoulder, but he's fine, it went right through." Sighing he ran his large hand down his face. "Listen, you're trying to change the subject. You're good I'll give you that, but stop." Turning to face her fully, "Look, you think he's alive, give me one thread of evidence that you've found, one ounce of possibility and I'll have Steven look into it, but if you don't have anything you agree to stop, can we agree to that?" It was the same argument over and over and he was tired of it, tired of getting infected with her hope and more tired of seeing her in pain from it.
Originally posted by marzeipan
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