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“Let’s go,” Antonio says, wrapping a gentle arm around her.
She pulls away from her father before they get to the exit and turns to me. “I have something for Lexie.” She reaches into her shirt and pulls out a familiar chain—and the angel wings.
My heart stops. If Valentina has the tracker, then Lexie doesn’t. For how long?
“Lexie made me take it. She was worried I’d put myself in danger, and that I’d be…” Her voice trails off, but the image of her being abducted hangs heavy in the air, weighed down by Marco’s occasional yelps. “I’m sure she misses it. Tell her I don’t need it anymore.”
I take the necklace and slip it in my pocket. “I will.”
I’ll process this later, when those fuckers are in hell.
70
LEXIE
Rafael’s been gone almost a week. I haven’t spoken with him since he left.
I know what it means when these men disappear into the caves for days. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, they return in tatters. At least my father always did.
I’m not sure how I would have coped without my mother for company. She fed me breakfast, sent me to work for half a day, and then did her best to distract me with movies and shopping and sightseeing. But despite her heroic attempts, all I thought about was Rafael, and the turmoil twisting inside him, as he dances with the devil.
Mum left this morning, and it’s deathly quiet—just me and my soul-crushing thoughts. Without Rafael’s larger-than-life presence, the apartment is a mausoleum, desolate, with a pervasive sense of loneliness and despair. It’s almost unbearable. I could have gone to Daniela and Antonio’s with Valentina, but I want to be here when he comes home.
“You need to be patient,” my mother reminded me when she hugged me goodbye. “He’s going to need you. Take good care of yourself while he’s gone, so that when he returns, you’ll be strong enough to take care of him.”
“How? How do I do that?” I pleaded, desperation choking every syllable.
“You accept the man who returns to you. You allow your love to heal his wounds, and you embrace the scars. If you can’t do that,” she touched my cheek, “then you don’t belong with him. If you stay, you’ll be miserable every day of your life. So will he. I don’t want that for you, darling.”
This life hasn’t been easy for my parents, and I know it won’t be easy for us either.
I’ve always considered myself a strong person. I know how to dig in my heels and fight. But what she described feels more like a war than a brawl, and Rafael already has so many festering wounds and scars.
My love might not be enough to get us through.
* * *
I’m reading in bed when I hear the apartment door shut. I’ve been praying for this all week. Yet, I don’t move. I’m not sure I even breathe.
My heart pounds as the familiar footsteps approach the bedroom.
When a haggard Rafael appears in the doorway, I leap out of bed and into his open arms. “I’ve been so worried about you. I love you,” I repeat over and over, clinging to him.
He holds me for an eternity without a single word, while I pray that he’s not irreparably broken and that my love will be the balm that heals his soul.
His heart hammers as I comb my fingers through his wet hair. How many showers did it take to scrub the blood off his skin? Too damn many.
“I need you,” he mutters, carrying me to the bed and laying me gently on the mattress.
He’s not a man who does gentle, but everything about him seems subdued. Flat. Devoid of any spark or color.
His eyes are lifeless craters, circled in black, the shadows slithering behind them. He looks exhausted, but not beaten. There’s no defeat, just disquiet. It sits heavy in my chest—and on my shoulders.
With the silence growing louder, Rafael strips off his clothes, leaving them where they land. He removes something from a pocket before joining me in bed.
“This is yours,” he murmurs. “Valentina said to tell you she doesn’t need it anymore.”
He starts to put the necklace on me, but his hands are shaking, and he can’t manage the clasp. My stomach clenches. The only time I’ve seen his hands shake is during sex, when he’s struggling for control.
