21. Rafael

Rafael

I park the car and jog around just so I can take her hand and lead her into the warehouse. She is numb, sinking somewhere so deep in her pain that she's almost unaware of the outside world. She's transcendent in her agony.

I shouldn't want her as much as I do, and yet, I find myself captivated. I sit on the white leather couch and pull her down into my arms. This need to touch her, be close to her, is impossible to deny.

For once, Dane is reading the room, and he's taken his abrasive self to his bedroom. A nasty word from him might cause her to shatter.

"Talk to me," I croon and run my hand up and down her spine. The tension is leaving her, she is turning soft and snuggling into me.

"I can't."

I tilt her head back and touch my lips to hers. It's impulsive, and for a moment, I think she'll turn away, push away, but she just blinks, and then lifts up and presses her mouth back against mine. Soft, tentative kisses that turn into open-mouthed explorations. She sets fire to my blood.

I don't think I've ever kissed anyone like this, with so much intimacy. It scares me as much as it excites me. I shift us so that we are lying side-by-side, legs tangled. Touching at almost all points. It's the sweetest torture. I don't ever want to stop.

She breaks away, panting slightly, and the pain in her eyes is muted. Her eyes aren't grey tonight, they are silver , I think, in a daze. I touch my lips to the corner of her mouth, and then the tip of her nose, and finally, her forehead before hugging her tight and burying my face in her neck.

"She was a sister to me."

I pull back.

"When I came back, I came to find him. I couldn't, so I just existed. I didn't make friends, I didn't contact my family. Cherise came in, and she was like a sister; funny, teasing, smart, kind, pushy." She stops talking and shifts her weight so she's pressed closer against me. "Cherise set me up with River. She knew I'd seen him and freaked. She organised for us to accidentally bump into each other. I was so angry with her."

I exhale and continue stroking her back and the thigh draped over my hip.

"It's not your fault," I say fiercely. "You are not responsible for that monster's choices."

"But-"

"No!" I kiss her again, this time harder, trying to make her feel the truth that I feel inside me. I draw back. "My parents weren't around much at all. I kinda raised myself. At fifteen, I was the passenger in a car that was in a wreck. The driver was a friend, and he died on impact. He wanted to go out and do something. I didn't want to stay home, so I didn't argue with him. But I spent years blaming myself. What if I'd said no? What if I'd just stayed home? He might be alive if I had made a different choice. As it was, I died three times that night."

"I'm sorry," she whispers, and I know that she more than anybody understands the guilt.

"It wasn't my fault he got behind the wheel drunk and drove fifteen miles above the speed limit. It wasn't my fault that he died and I survived. And it's not yours."

She reaches up and runs her fingers along my jaw. "Why are you so good? How has the world not destroyed you yet?"

I turn my face into her palm and leave an open-mouthed kiss in the centre. "I'm not good or bad. I'm just a man."

She makes a disbelieving sound and giggles when I bite her thumb.

"For example, if I was a good man, I'd tuck you up in bed and walk out of the room," I whisper. She shivers, and her thigh tightens on my hip. Satisfaction lights up inside me. I lean forward and bite her lower lip. "If I was a wicked man, you'd be naked, screaming on this couch by now."

"You sound so sure of yourself."

"Oh, I am."

Her eyes are glazing now, her chest rising and falling rapidly. I roll my hips into her so she can feel just how much I want her. Her hands turn to claws and dig into my back as she arches against me.

"Can you feel how bad I want to be, sweetness?"

She mumbles something and nods tightly, but her eyes are half-closed, and she's lost. I press another kiss to her lips. She is so beautiful. So responsive. I can see why Terrance fell in love with her.

Thinking about him cools my ardor, not by much, but it's enough that I reluctantly draw back from her.

"Tonight, because you need it, I'm going to be a good guy."

She shakes her head, but I press a finger to her lips.

"Let me do this for you. Let me be something good."

Her eyes widen. I can see the uncertainty and nerves dancing across her face. But she nods, just a small little movement. I sit up, slowly disengaging our limbs, ignoring that voice screaming at me that I'm an idiot. I take her hand in mine, tug her to my bedroom, and turn the light on.

"Sleep here. No one will disturb you, and in the morning, we can track down Jacob Keylore."

"He won't be hard to find," she murmurs. "He's the pastor."

"Huh."

She strips out of her jacket and boots and sits on the edge of the bed. Her hair falls over her shoulder, hiding her face from me.

I turn to leave.

"Wait."

I pause.

"Can you…stay?"

I turn back towards the bed and sit next to her. "What's wrong, Jax?"

"I think about everything when I'm alone."

I pull off my shoes, lift the cover, and she climbs in. I climb in beside her and pull her into me. She rests one hand on my chest and closes her eyes.

I'm getting too close. I stroke her hair and wonder how I'm going to untangle myself from how much I like her. She's fresh and down to Earth, so broken, with more mysteries that I think I could spend a lifetime knowing. I stroke her hair and turn my head as the door opens.

Dane stands there, silhouetted by light, and gestures to me. I carefully slide out of the bed, making sure not to disturb her, and pad to the door.

I follow the light and sit down at the island counter. He slides a mug to me, and I take a sip. The coffee is hot, but it's nice, just the way I like it.

"She lied to us."

"Yup." I take another sip and wait him out. It doesn't take long. His anger surfaces, and he starts to pace.

"If she's lying about that, what else is she hiding? Maybe she knows where Terrance is. Maybe she is involve-"

"Don't say it," I say harshly. "She's not."

"Not what? Involved? Lying? Helping?" Dane growls in frustration. "We don't know her."

"Terrance would say to trust our instincts."

"And where'd that get him?"

I fall silent because I don't know what to say to that.

"Look, I thought I saw something at the school. In the basement, there was something. I felt it."

I cock my head. Dane huffs and slams his hand on the counter.

"I don't know. I don't know what I saw."

"She has reasons to lie, Dane. I think we should give her the benefit of the doubt."

Dane's face softens minutely, just enough for me to realise that he is as conflicted as I am.

"All right, so we trust her?"

"Yes. Until she proves we can't, and I don't think that will happen, we trust her."

Dane shakes his head. I sit there and finish my coffee long after he's gone to bed.

I wonder if she will trust us when she discovers our secret. Just imagining that conversation makes my stomach turn.

I open the door and flick on the light quickly. My body freezes as I try to make sense of the image burned on my retinas. I shake my head, turn on a lamp beside the bed, and then turn off the big light again. I climb into bed and wrap myself around her and glare into the dark corners of my room because, for a moment, in the dark, I thought there was a man wrapped around her.