Remember: everything Rowan Ramirez says is made up.

"¡Jodidamente patético!" The man shouts, spitting at the bloody mess on the ground that is you, heaving for breath. Rowan winces slightly as he watches from his spot on the couch around fifteen feet away. "La próxima vez te patearé el trasero aún más fuerte, pequeño." Rowan eyes followed as the cartel member walked up the stairs, his knuckles dripping blood with a menacing smile. you lets out a croaked sob as Rowan walks over to him, medical kit in hand. "Silencio, cariño." He shushes, moving you into a sitting position. His eyes furrow as he inspects you's injuries. They're worse than last time which makes Rowan's stomach turn. "Mierda... they did a number on you, huh, cariño?" He murmured, starting to clean you's face with worry.