by LP Lovell
Reaching over his head, Rafe grabs the back of his shirt and tugs the damp material over his head. My eyes drop slowly over the hard muscles of his body. He really is magnificent: powerful, lethal, beautiful. Like one of Michelangelo’s statues—a stone tribute to the male form. A drop of sweat rolls between his pecs before sliding along each defined ab. I swallow heavily and wet my suddenly dry lips.
A low growl has me snapping my eyes to his face. “Anna,” he says through clenched teeth. His eyes flash dangerously, something dark and desperate swirling in their depths.
“Yeah?” I force the word past my tightening throat.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he tosses his head back as he clenches and releases his fists. And then, without a word, he turns and walks away, heading towards the attached bathroom. The muscles of his back roll beneath the map of dark ink staining every inch of his skin from shoulder to shoulder and the entire length of his spine. The tattoo is of a woman on her knee’s, sobbing and praying as dark clouds roll across his shoulder blades, bringing with them the four horsemen of the apocalypse. It’s beautiful, the artistry second to none. And of course, nestled amongst the chaos on his right shoulder, is Violet’s bleeding rose.
He slips through the bathroom door but doesn’t fully close it, before I hear the shower start. A teetering curiosity starts to form in my mind before I recoil from it, but then it creeps back in. I imagine Rafael in the shower, the water pouring over his chiseled form, warping the inked images on his skin. Warmth radiates through my body at the thought, and my pulse skitters in.. what? Anticipation? No. I shake my head as though physically trying to remove the images from my brain. I don’t want that. But his kisses make you feel so safe, so wanted, so cherished. A tentative need dances along the edge of my mind, igniting such unfamiliar feelings, but instead of shying away, I welcome it.
Curiosity killed the cat, and yet I find myself moving towards the bathroom, pushing the door open until steam starts to billow around me. The glass shower cubicle is misted, but I can make out Rafael’s form, his head tilted back as the water rushes over him. I stand there for a second, frozen between the need to bolt and a gentle longing to explore, to tread the ground in front of me, previously un-walked.
Closer, closer…
Rafael’s hand swipes over the glass, clearing the mist until those dark eyes zero in on me, hard and unrelenting. I freeze like a rabbit in headlights, taking a shaky step back. I shouldn’t be here. I should leave, but he imprisons me with his gaze, cementing my feet to the spot. A wicked smile dances over his lips, and he drags a hand over his wet hair.
“Are you going to join me? Or are you just going to watch?” I shake my head numbly. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know why I’m here. This is such dangerous ground with a man like him. “Just watch it is then.” His voice is rough and deep, carrying over the sound of the water splashing against tile.
He places one palm against the glass, allowing the water to wash over his back. Through the mist, I can slightly make out him dropping his other hand and moving it slowly, back and forth, back and forth. His eyes hold mine, imprisoning me right there in the bathroom as he watches me, watching him. The movement of his hand gets more violent. He swipes his free hand over the glass again, ensuring he can see me. The muscles in his neck tighten, his jaw twitching as his breaths come faster. His stare becomes so intense, and I feel like I’m burning under it, my body tingling with a foreign sensation.
A low guttural groan tears from his throat, feral and primitive, echoing off the shower walls. He never looks away from me for a second as his body tightens and jerks, hidden by the misted glass, but I know exactly what’s happening. It was my sole purpose, to give pleasure. I’ve seen it a thousand times before, but never like this. This is beautiful, intoxicating, hypnotic. Rafael’s eyes close for a second before they snap open, focusing on me once more. My cheeks heat, and his blazing gaze makes me fractious, so instinctively, I turn and run from the room. I keep going until I’m outside the house—until I can breathe properly again.
What am I doing?
27
Rafael
I smile as I watch Anna run from the bathroom. My chest heaves as I try to catch a breath. Shit. I can’t even find it within myself to feel ashamed. She came in here, she wanted to watch me, and fuck, if that didn’t make my dick rock hard. With her innocent eyes locked on me, I’ve never come in my own hand so hard. The girl turns me inside out, and she has no idea.
I rinse off and step out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my waist. I wonder how far she went? Will she be waiting for me in the bedroom? When I step through the doorway, I find it empty. Of course.
Anna is dancing that fine line between inviting everything I want to do to her, and running from it as far and as fast as she can. My little warrior is curious. She’s never been truly touched, kissed…loved. I see it in her eyes every time she presses her lips to mine, a ravenous kind of need, but it’s so fucking innocent. And it’s that innocence that makes me both long to destroy her and preserve her. I’ve never wanted to fuck anyone so much in my life, but she’s not ready. Maybe it wasn’t wise to show her just how much I want her, but shit, she shouldn’t come in here and look at me like that. A man only has so much restraint. At times I wonder if she was put in my life to test me, like some kind of punishment for failing Violet.
Carlos folds his arms over his chest, leaning against the back of the couch. “It’s too quiet.”
I flick ash off the end of my cigar and bring it to my lips. “He’s planning something.”
“He’ll make a move soon. He has to. He’s pulled all his dealers off the streets. That has to be hitting him hard.”
I don’t like it. I don’t like that Dominges might be ahead of me in any way. I strive to know every possible move an opponent might make, but he’s unpredictable and wily in ways that most of my adversaries aren’t. In any other situation I’d almost appreciate the challenge of it all, but not when I know he wants Anna. Not when he’s successfully managed to take her once already.
“Start upping bribes. Someone has to know something. One of his men will sing for the right price.”
“And if they don’t?”
I lift a brow. “I don’t have to tell you how the cartel works, Carlos.” Blood and violence. The only real currency there is. If you can’t buy a man, you bleed him out.
With a small smile and a jerk of his chin, he straightens and leaves the room.
It’s late by the time I leave the office, and as I drift down the hallway toward the stairs, I hear a sound, a lone, somber note echoing around the house. A piano note. Turning down the corridor towards the sunroom, I follow the sounds of more notes. The sunroom is bathed in moonlight, drifting through the windows and casting a silvery light over everything.
Anna’s lone form sits behind what was once my mother’s piano. Her fingers glide over the keys slowly, as though testing them. A solemn note becomes two and then three. She winds together a tune I’ve never heard before, and it’s so brutally sad, each note a painful stroke that weaves through the air like a growing cloud of despair. And yet, in each melancholy sound is a tortured beauty that is every inch, Anna. I watch her play until she suddenly stops.
It’s only when I hear the soft hitch of her breaths that I realize she’s crying. I feel like an intruder to her heartbreak, a silent witness to her pain. She was almost right when she said she was a lie. She’s just two halves of a very splintered whole. On the one hand she’s this strong, resilient, beautiful woman, and I am in awe of her. On the other, she’s so fucking broken, so dark and twisted and utterly ruined. And truthfully, it’s this raw, stripped version of her that calls to me on a visceral level. It’s the way she can pick herself up and morph from one to the other that makes me fall for her.
“Avecita,” I say quietly, stepping into the room. She quickly swipes at her tears, refusing to look at me.
“Rafael. I thought you were working.”
Sw
eeping her hair away from her neck, I place a small kiss below her ear. “I thought you were sleeping.”
“I was.”
I fall into a crouch beside her stool and she drops her chin to her chest, allowing golden hair to fall over her face. Reaching out, I tuck it behind her ear and swipe at a stray tear on her cheek.
“Don’t hide from me.”
“I just had a nightmare. I’m fine.” She’s not fine, but I’ll let her pretend for a little longer.
“You play well.”
“One of the many gifts, The Master gave me,” she says bitterly. “I should take joy in it, but when I play, it just…hurts.”
“So why play?”
“Sometimes, you do the things that hurt you, just to remind yourself that you can survive them.”
“So strong, little warrior.”
She stares at me for a beat, nothing but silence stretching between us until she finally breaks it. “Why do you try to fix me, Rafe?”
“Why do you think?”
A void of unspoken words lingers between us because I could tell her exactly why, but I won’t. “I don’t know. I can never work you out. I just know that I shouldn’t trust you, but I can’t help myself.”
“Before… you asked me if I wanted to own you.”
“I remember. And you said you wanted to love me.”
“Want…it implies a choice, doesn’t it?” She tilts her head to the side. “I’m not sure I’ve ever had any choice when it comes to you, avecita.” She should be nothing, and yet this broken little bird has become everything.
She reaches out, her expression sad as she strokes over the stubble of my jaw. “I’ll never be…what you need.”
“How do you know what I need?”
“You’re a man, Rafe. I’ll never…” she trails off, her hand falling away from me as she does.
I press my finger under her chin, forcing her to look at me. “Says the girl who watched me in the shower.”
“Rafe…”
“You’re wrong by the way. I’m not trying to fix you. To fix something implies that there is something wrong with it.” And she’s so perfect in her fragility.
“I wish that were true. One day you’ll lose patience and realize just how worthless I am.”
“Avecita, you’re the most priceless thing I’ve ever come across.”
She squeezes her eyes shut, and a single tear slips down her cheek. Her hands cup my face, and she closes the small distance between us, pressing her lips against mine. My little warrior kisses me like I’m the air she needs to breathe.
She’s wrong. I’m a patient man and for her, infinitely so. I saw the way she watched me in the shower, the heat in her eyes, the way her body subtly strained towards me. She’s never been allowed to be curious, never known pleasure, or the genuine feel of lusting after someone. I see the way her eyes sometimes linger on me before she snatches her gaze away. She wants to look, but she doesn’t want to invite anything. I feel the tentative need in her kiss, in the way she gravitates towards me.
I want every single part of her, but more than anything, I want her absolute unbreakable trust. It’s become a feral kind of craving, festering away at all rational thought. And I will have it. If I have to wait forever.
28
Anna
I can see myself sitting behind a piano, like a spectator to my own nightmare. The Master is standing over me. That twisted grin on his face as he watches me play. And across the room, is Rafael. He watches from the shadows, thick arms folded over his chest as he observes. The song The Master made me write for him drifts through the room, the notes full of my pain and sorrow.
Rafael moves closer and closer, as though lured by the music. “Avecita,” he says. I don’t look up from the keys. The Master smiles wickedly.
“She’s mine. She’ll always be mine,” he says. Rafael looks at me, this version of me, his expression torn. “I made sure of it when I broke her.” He grabs the hair of the damaged little girl sitting at the piano and twists her to face him, kissing her. She doesn’t fight him. She simply…complies.
Rafael takes a step back and then another and another until he’s slipping into the shadows. I scream at him to come back, but he can’t hear me.
I jolt awake, dragging air into my lungs rapidly. Sweat coats my body and my pulse pounds against my eardrums. Closing my eyes, I pull a hand through my damp hair. It’s just a nightmare, and nowhere near as bad as some of the others, but much harder hitting because it’s the first time Rafael has ever featured in my hellish dream world. The same dream, twice in one night. That’s shitty, even for me.
I slide out of bed, exhaustion weighing heavily on me. I’d never tell Rafael, but the truth is, my nightmares are far better when he sleeps with me. Maybe my subconscious knows I’m safe with him. Lately, he doesn’t seem to sleep much though.
The dream plagues me long after I’ve showered and changed. I need to be around people and get out of my head.
I go downstairs and walk into the kitchen. This has become my favorite part of the day because it feels normal. It feels like family. It feels like home. Maria hums to herself as she fries bacon in a pan. Carlos and Lucas are sitting at a farmhouse-style dining table in the middle of the room, bickering over something.
I take a seat across from the two brothers and they both glance at me. “Anna,” Lucas says, smiling as he pours a mug of coffee for me.
“Hey.”
“So…” Carlos starts.
Here we go. “So?”
“Are we allowed to talk about your sister yet or is Rafe going to hand me my balls?” He grins, tipping his head back slightly until his hood shifts, revealing just a little more of his face. My eyes instinctively lock onto the two small teardrops beneath his right eye.
I shrug one shoulder. “You probably know more about her than I do.”
Maria drops a plate of bacon in the middle of the table, and Carlos snatches a piece. “That she’s a badass?” he says.
“Something like that.” A sick feeling settles into the pit of my stomach when I think of Una coming for me. Will she kill all of them if she finds me with them? Will she listen to me if I ask her not to? Will she try and take me against my will? Why hasn’t she come yet? So many questions, and I have no answers because she’s not the little girl who used to steal food for me. They changed her, just as they changed me.
“You should be pleased. Having someone like that in your corner…”
I fidget uncomfortably until Lucas finally saves me. “Mum said you need to call her.”
Carlos rolls his eyes. “That woman is loco.”
Maria seemingly pops out of nowhere and clips him around the back of the head. “Don’t disrespect your Mama.”
I press my hand over my mouth, covering a laugh. Carlos glares at me, and Lucas snickers. “She said you haven’t visited in months and she wants to see the new baby.”
I lift a brow at this. “You have a child?”
Lucas snorts. “Try three.”
“Wow. Are you married?”
This time Lucas practically chokes on his laughter. “As if. He has three kids with three different women.”
Carlos elbows his brother in the ribs before smirking at me. “I’m virile.”
“Or incapable of bagging it up,” Lucas retorts.
“Whatever.” Carlos pushes to his feet. “I have to go train with Rafe.” He jerks his chin at Maria and me before he leaves the room.
Lucas grins, clearly pleased with himself. “So, Anna, what are we doing today?”
“What do you want to do?”
“Well, technically, I’m your bodyguard, so where you go, I follow.”
I glare at him. “You’re no fun.” He shrugs, and I think about it for a moment. I want to get out of the house, away from all of this…away from Rafael. I don’t think being around me is good for him. He’s wound so tight, I’m sure he’s going to snap at any moment, and it’s my fault. That whole thing with the shower…what w
as I thinking? That can only be making it worse. I don’t want to be this delicate thing that he has to tiptoe around.
“Let’s go and shoot.”
He frowns for a second. “Okay. I’ll go and get some bullets. Meet me outside?”
I nod and push up from my spot, making my way through the house. The rhythmical sound of muted thuds meets my ears, and my feet carry me towards the sound of their own volition. I lean against the doorway of the gym, watching Rafael as his bare fists pound over a punchbag so hard that I almost wince at the sheer force of each blow. The bag is wet with blood, but he doesn’t seem to care. Carlos strips out of his hoody and bounces around on a small matted area, fingerless gloves covering his hands. Rafael joins him, and they circle, their attention completely fixed on each other. They’re like two predators looking for weaknesses. And the second Rafael see’s one he takes it, punching Carlos in the jaw and then the stomach. Carlos doubles over, coughing violently.
“Fuck, Rafe!”
“Don’t be a pussy,” Rafael growls at him.
With a snarl, Carlos is up and punching Rafael in the face. They exchange blows so hard and fast I can barely keep up. My heart is hammering in my throat, my fingernails cutting into my palms as they release every inch of aggression they have on each other. Rafael always keeps the upper hand though, dominating with his sheer size. Thick muscles bunch and flex, sweat and blood blurring the lines of his tattoos into a collage of pure violence. And it’s here, when I see him like this, that I realize just how gentle he is with me. I’ve never seen this side of him, but I can tell it’s his natural state. Although a wolf can be tamed, it’s naturally wild and brutal. Rafael is a savage, a beast, and I’m trying to pet him through the bars of a cage.
