Twenty seven

Undeterred, Keo's eyes narrowed with determination as he growled, "Where is Belle?" The mere mention of Belle's name caused Mia's heart to flutter uneasily.

"Belle?... ¿quién es Belle?" Mia questioned in Spanish, a hint of confusion coloring her words.

Keo's patience wore thin as he snapped, "Don't play dumb, Mia. You know exactly who Belle is, so tell me where she is right now!"

A defiant fire sparked in Mia's eyes as she vehemently declared, "I don't know where she is. Why are you asking me? How am I supposed to know where your so-called Bella is?!" Her response, delivered in a passionate outburst, only fueled Keo's frustration.

"It's Belle, goddamnit! It's fucking Belle, and you know where she is, so tell me!" Keo's words sliced through the air, charged with an intensity that reverberated through the tavern.

Mia, undeterred by Keo's accusations, retaliated in Spanish, her voice echoing with defiance, "¡Por última vez, Keo, no sé dónde está Belle o Bella! ¡Y deja de hacerme preguntas tan inútiles!, For the last time, Keo, I don't know where Belle or Bella is! And stop asking me such useless questions!"

Keo scoffed dismissively as he closed the distance between them, his determined footsteps punctuating the charged silence. Mia, retreating slowly, locked eyes with Keo, her gaze meeting his as he advanced towards her with an unrelenting force.

"I'm not gonna ask again, Mia. Where is Belle?" Keo's demand hung in the air, a palpable tension enveloping the room.

"Ya te lo he dicho, Keo. No tengo ni idea de dónde está Belle, I've already told you, Keo. I have no idea where Belle is," Mia replied in Spanish, her words a steadfast assertion of her ignorance.

"Really? You don't have any idea about Belle's whereabouts, right? Then tell me. Why are you answering me in Spanish? You only answer me like that when you are lying right?" Keo's frustration reached a boiling point, demanding answers.

"Well...I... don't know what you are talking about-" Mia's attempt at an explanation faltered as Keo's patience wore thin.

"Tell me where she is!" Keo's roar resonated through the room, punctuated by the shattering of a mirror under the impact of his fist.

Mia, overwhelmed, covered her face with her hands, bowing her head slightly as she whimpered. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry. Don't hurt me. Please don't hurt me," she pleaded, her vulnerability laid bare.

"Then tell me where Belle is." Keo's demand, delivered through gritted teeth, cut through the lingering echoes of chaos.

"She is in tavern 13 with Juan and Carlos," Mia finally revealed, her admission marking a turning point as Keo stormed out, leaving her on her knees, sobbing beside the shattered remnants of the mirror on the tavern floor.

Carlos abruptly halted his advances on Belle's bosom, peering up at her with a sudden cruelty that sent shivers down her spine. Harshly, he ripped the duct tape from her pleading lips, and as he leaned in for another invasive kiss, the door swung open with a furious force, revealing the enraged figure of Keo.

Belle, bound and vulnerable, became an unsettling tableau for Keo, fueling the fiery anger within him. The room erupted into chaos as Juan, seizing the moment, tossed his cigarette aside and lunged at Keo. A powerful punch from Keo sent Juan crashing to the floor, blood streaming from his nose, and two teeth clenched in his hand.

Witnessing the scene, Carlos widened his eyes in shock and retaliated by attempting to strike Keo. However, Keo's agility prevailed, dodging Carlos's punches and forcefully pushing him to the ground. The relentless onslaught of punches ensued, accompanied by Keo's furious screams, "She is mine! How dare you touch her, you son of a bitch! I won't spare you. She is fucking mine, you idiot!"

The tavern's entrance became a stage for the unfolding drama as troops of bikers, both boys and girls, streamed in to witness Keo's boiling fury, their eyes widening at the intense spectacle.

Amid the tumult, Belle, desperately struggling against her restraints, screamed a plea for the violence to cease. "Stop it, Keo! If you continue punching him like this, he's going to die!"

"Then let him die!" Keo's vehement response echoed through the room as he persistently pummeled Carlos, horrifying the onlooking bikers.

"Someone, please stop him!" Belle's desperate cries heightened as the bikers rushed to intervene, attempting to restrain Keo. He fiercely resisted their efforts, screaming, "She is mine! Only mine!" before breaking free from their grasp and hurrying to Belle's side.

"Are you okay?" Keo's tone shifted abruptly, concern replacing the earlier rage, as he began untying Belle's restraints and checking her for injuries. Finding none, he scooped her into his arms without sparing a glance at the battered men on the floor. In a swift departure, Keo and Belle exited the tavern, leaving behind a stupefied assembly of bikers and the echoes of a chaotic and intense encounter.

The night air is thick with tension as Keo gently places Belle on his motorcycle. The roar of the engine mirrors the whirlwind of emotions between them as they speed away from the chaotic tavern. The drive to Belle's house is a turbulent journey, the wind carrying the echoes of unspoken words and lingering resentment.

Arriving at her house, Keo carefully lifts Belle from the bike, and the weight of their unspoken conflicts lingers in the air. Cupping her face in his hands, he inquires with genuine concern, "Are you okay?" Belle, however, pushes him away, her eyes flashing with a storm of emotions.

"You ask if I'm okay now? After everything that just happened?" Belle's voice trembles with frustration. "You're the cause of all of this, Keo. Always hiding things from me, and my fault is that I never bother to ask or find out!"

Keo's attempt to diffuse the tension echoed in the air as he spoke with a measured tone, "Belle, I know you're upset, but now is not the time to talk about this."

Belle, her eyes flashing with frustration, retorted, "Not the time? When is the right time, Keo? When you feel like it? When it's convenient for you?"

Keo, attempting to steer the conversation, insisted, "That's not what I meant. I just think we should focus on getting through this situation first."

Belle, unyielding in her stance, shot back, "Getting through this situation? You mean the situation you created by lying to me? By hiding things from me?"

Keo, sensing the escalating tension, pleaded, "Belle, please, let's not do this right now."

But Belle, fueled by a sense of betrayal, stood her ground, declaring, "No, we are doing this right now. You don't get to just brush this under the rug and pretend like everything is fine. I deserve to know the truth, Keo."

In a moment of vulnerability, Keo finally relented, "Fine, you want the truth? I was trying to protect you, Belle. I didn't want you to get involved in something that could put you in danger."

Belle, her frustration boiling over, accused, "Protect me? By lying to me? By treating me like I can't handle the truth? I am not some fragile flower, Keo. I can handle whatever you throw at me. But what I can't handle is being kept in the dark by the person I thought I could trust."

Keo, remorse evident in his eyes, apologized, "I'm sorry, Belle. I never meant to hurt you. I just didn't know how to tell you about what happened with Mia."

Belle, her confusion mounting, demanded, "Mia? What does she have to do with any of this? Don't you dare try to deflect the blame onto her. This is about you and your lies, Keo. And I won't stand for it any longer."

"I'm not deflecting anything onto Mia. This is about me and my actions, and I take full responsibility for them. Let's focus on that instead of bringing others into it." Keo replied as Belle's frustration reached the peak.

"You never talk to me, Keo! That's the problem," she exclaims, a mix of hurt and anger in her eyes. "I let you touch me in places no one else has, and you can't even trust me with anything about yourself. I'm tired of the secrets!"

Keo, his frustration evident, whispers a plea for understanding. "It's not like that, Belle. You don't understand."

"Of course, I don't understand! Because you don't tell me anything!" Belle retorts, her voice strained with pent-up emotions. "I'm so done with this, Keo. I'm done with you and your secrets. I don't want anything to do with you anymore."

As the words hang in the air, Keo, driven by a desperate desire to reconnect, attempts to touch Belle's face with his bloody hand. She swats it away, intensifying the tension. Then, in a surprising turn, Keo, fueled by a complex mix of emotions, grabs her by the neck with his wounded hand and kisses her passionately.

Belle, taken aback by the unexpected kiss, is momentarily stunned. It's a departure from Keo's usual demeanor, leaving her caught in the crossfire of emotions. The air crackles with uncertainty as they stand there, suspended in a moment where the collision of emotions and secrets paints an unpredictable canvas of their relationship.

Belle, still reeling from the revelations and fueled by a mix of anger and hurt, abruptly pushed Keo away, breaking the passionate kiss. Their eyes locked, but the warmth that once existed had turned into a tempest of conflicting emotions. Without a word, Belle's hand swung through the air, connecting with a sharp slap against Keo's cheek.

"Never," she declared, her voice sharp and resolute, "never try that again. That was the mistake I made – letting you touch me. I won't make that mistake again."

Keo, his cheek stinging from the slap, clenched his fists tightly, blood dripping from the wound on his hand. His gaze, a mix of regret and frustration, met Belle's defiant eyes. The room hung heavy with tension as the gravity of their confrontation settled in.

"I never wanted to hurt you," Keo finally uttered, his voice strained. "I thought... I thought I was protecting you."

Belle, unmoved by his words, stood her ground. "Protecting me by lying? By keeping secrets? Keo, you can't protect me by treating me like I can't handle the truth."

The silence that followed was thick with unresolved emotions. Belle's resolve remained unshaken, and Keo grappled with the consequences of his actions. The air crackled with tension as they stood in the aftermath of a heated confrontation, each grappling with the weight of their choices and the fractures in their relationship.