Chapter 33 #2
I sigh, lacking compassion for anyone but myself right now. “Your empathy is making my brain hurt.”
She rolls her eyes. “For starters the brain issue is dehydration from the torrential waterworks.” She pushes to her feet, disappears into the kitchen, then returns moments later and hands over a bottle of water. “And secondly, it’s not empathy. It’s analysis.”
She retreats to my sofa and snuggles a cushion to her chest. “I’ve never seen your dad look at you with anything other than pride and admiration. So keeping the debt from you must have killed him. And…” She drags out the word, her expression changing into an exaggerated cringe.
I groan. “What?”
“I kinda feel like I have to, begrudgingly, give props to Raffael for how he made you hate him to save your relationship with Philip. He took one for the team despite obviously having a hard-on for you.”
The blunt assessment packs a punch, the blow landing where I’m already bruised.
I battle my way through it by info-dumping.
I tell her about my graceless stumble over the side of his yacht.
How Raffael played the ogre act even though he had his chef serve my favorite meals.
I also sprinkle a brief blow-by-blow about how he worked my body into a heated frenzy as if he had a direct line of communication with my libido.
Then, once my nervous system seems in some semblance of control, I finally relay the devastation of this morning. How he tried to keep the truth from me. The way he pretended to want to be together to save Eliseo.
“Are you sure that’s what it was?” she asks. “I’m definitely not team Raffael, but maybe you’re wrong about his motives.”
“I’ve never felt anything for a man like I did for him on the yacht—” And every day since. “I swear it was reciprocated, too. But he still cut ties. Now his brother’s incarceration is in my hands and all of a sudden things change?”
“Again, I want to explicitly outline my reluctance to stick up for that intimidating son of a bitch, but he did beat the shit out of Eliseo for you.”
I hang my head. “Was it for me, though? Or was it retaliation for Eliseo’s actions bringing heat to their family?”
“All I can go off is what I witnessed before Michelo ushered me from the basement, and that was mindless rage centered around you. Raffael demanded answers about your treatment and what you were put through. Not how the family would be under scrutiny if word got out. He was fucking crazed, Isles. It was next level.”
My heart aches. Yearns.
It’s the entirely wrong response, and although I can acknowledge that, I can’t quit being torn in two. “I think I like him too much to navigate this logically.”
“I think you’ve been through enough to acknowledge logic won’t be one of your personality traits for a while, especially given the dismal state of your sex life prior to him rowing your boat. Your deprived ovaries would be rabid to cling to a good thing.”
I cringe, my deprived ovaries withering in agreement. Or maybe it’s just the pit in my stomach opening wider to create a chasm.
“Believe me, I get it,” she continues. “A man with his confidence is bound to have enviable skills. But as strong, somewhat mentally stable women, we need to recognize when to take the ‘ho’ out of psycho. There’s a time and place for unhinged and obnoxiously complicated sex…
and it’s not when you’re in your thirties with a CEO title to maintain. ”
I agree. Mentally. Rationally.
But emotionally? Physically?
No matter how hard I try, I can’t lessen the pain beneath my ribs.
What I feel for Raffael goes beyond the thrill of sex. He stole a piece of my heart and replaced it with his brand—a scarring, indelible mark that seems permanent.
“You can’t share this with anyone.” I raise my gaze to hers, wiping my running nose on my wrist like a Neanderthal. “Their father still has a lot of criminal—”
“Don’t worry. Raffael gave me the same speech. And I’m not exactly free of implication to rat on him anyway.”
That chasm becomes a gorge. “Why?”
She shrugs. “When I noticed you were missing my impulse control called in sick and violence took the wheel.”
“Explain,” I demand.
“It’s nothing. I just broke into Raffael’s car, waited for him to slide inside, then held a syringe to his neck and threatened to sedate him permanently if he didn’t tell me where you were.”
“Quinn,” I shriek.
“Don’t worry.” She waves me away, utterly unbothered. “Raffael and I came to an understanding. He knows I’ll keep my mouth shut if that’s what’s best for you. And he’s well aware his secrets will be made public if I go missing.”
“And Eliseo… what about him? Do you think involving the cops is a bad idea?”
“I acknowledge you can’t go to them without putting the Cavallo lineage under scrutiny.” She hesitates. “But I’m also Team Isla, which makes me biased in wanting their entire bloodline eradicated for what you went through. So it’s best if you think this through on your own.”
I groan. “I don’t know what to do. If I don’t tell the authorities then Eliseo will get away with what he did.”
“Oh, sweetie, he’s definitely not getting away with anything.” A slow smirk tilts her lips. “I’ve spent the last eighteen hours brainstorming consequences that don’t involve the justice system, and I promise you he’s not going to like any of them.”