Chapter 38 - Sophia #2
For days now, we’ve done this, walked beneath the trees, kissed until the world blurred, held on to each other, not wanting to let go; nothing else could reach us.
And for the first time in years, I feel like I’m slowly stepping out of the wreckage of myself.
But stepping out isn’t the same as knowing where to go.
I still haven’t answered his question. What do I want to do? Esther asked me the same thing. I don’t know. I just don't know.
All I know is that I want him. God, I want him. But the thought gnaws at me that being with me will paint a target on his back.
"They’re after me anyway, bella mia," he says softly, almost like he can hear the war in my head. "Let me worry about that. I know what I’m doing."
I glance at him, at the scars etched into his face, at the strength in his body, and the certainty in his eyes. He means it. He’s not afraid. He never is.
A gust of wind rustles through the trees, and something white flutters down between us. A feather, small and delicate, plucked from some unseen bird. He plucks it from the air before it can touch the ground and holds it up for me, his grin boyish, almost shy.
"Even the storm leaves behind gifts for you," he murmurs, tucking it gently into my hair. His fingers brush my temple, lingering against my cheek. I lean into the touch before I can stop myself.
He steals a kiss, soft and unhurried, like he has all the time in the world.
And maybe we do, because when he pulls back, his eyes hold me the way his hands do: steady and unshakable.
Here, in his house, in the woods, it feels like time just stopped.
Like we’re suspended in a world beyond anyone’s reach.
"You don’t have to decide anything now," he tells me. Then adds, as if he heard my thoughts, "You can take all the time in the world."
I nod, grateful, but my throat feels tight.
Because time is exactly what I lost, three years of it, stolen from me, and I’m barely feeling like I’m getting it back now.
I know it’s an illusion, time simply doesn’t stop, but here we are.
Still, I am faced with having to choose, but I just don’t know how.
One thing is for certain, though, I can't stay here, like this, indefinitely, no matter how much I might want to.
I can't keep hiding. Raf hasn't pushed me, but I know the police are looking for me.
I've seen the articles. Read what he did, how he left Roberto's broken body at the steps of the police station.
Soon, I will have to make a decision and face people.
Yesterday's session with Esther enters my mind.
What do you want to do with your life now that you're free to choose? Free to choose? Esther means well, but she doesn’t know the world I live in.
There is no freedom for a woman like me.
I'm pretty sure Daddy Dearest is looking for his lost principessa, and so is Marcello, whom I actually want to see.
But not yet. I just need a bit more time.
You're not going to get any stronger by hiding, my merciless mind tells me.
Sometimes I wish I could just shut her up.
Why can't I stay here in this house in the woods forever?
Because you do have a life. I sigh. Raf looks over at me, but doesn't push.
He's good at that, reading me, knowing when I need to fight my own demons.
But he's there, ready to catch me or slay them if need be.
I need to be strong, I remind myself, if not for me, then for him. He's risked everything to get me out. Everything. His life, his company, his future. And he's not asking me for anything in return.
I take him in, the way he stands there, broad shoulders, biceps bulging underneath his skintight long-sleeve shirt. I can nearly feel the ridges of his muscles underneath my fingertips. I ran them up and down them last night. Raffael. So proud. So strong. A man worth everything.
This is not just about you, my mind once again decides to reprimand. Okay, okay, I get it.
I run a hand through my hair. "Raf?"
"I'm here, bella mia." He tilts his head. Waits.
I need to get out of here. Out of this house. If only for a few hours. It will help me heal more than a five-hour session with Esther.
"Do you think…" Where would we go, though? I can't be seen in public. The cops are actively looking for me, and I've seen my face plastered all over the news. As tempting as a shopping spree is—for the first time in years, I could pick whatever I wanted—that's not where I can go. Or should go.
Raffael doesn't press, silently he watches me, patiently waiting as if he senses I'm at the precipice of taking a big step. And he probably does. He reads me very well.
"…could we…" and then it comes to me. "Go see Lexy?"
His face brightens, like he's been waiting for me to ask. "Absolutely."
He takes my hand, and we make our way back to the house.
There is no sign of Esther. There never is.
She's like a ghost, sitting in her suite, waiting for me.
I wonder what she does all day besides that.
That thought makes me realize that I am slowly coming out of the fugue I've been in.
Slowly, I'm starting to care about other people again.
Twenty minutes later, a large, kind of beat-up truck takes us out toward the city. Raf is driving, but he appears a bit awkward behind the wheel, like he's not used to driving it.
"We need a safe word," he says when we enter the city limits.
"A safe word?" I smirk.
He nods seriously, making me wonder if he has spent too much time with Esther, too. "Yes. A safe word, one that you say when things get too much and you want me to take you home."
Home.
I wonder if he has any idea that the word has never meant anything to me until now. Until he just said it. Home. That house in the Catskills is our home—his and mine.
"Catskills," I say without having to think about it.
His head turns, and his smile does things to me I haven't thought possible in so long.
It warms my stomach and fills my heart with a heat that makes it feel like it's expanding.
I look into his eyes, and I see it right there.
His love for me. It's not like it's depicted in the books or movies.
No, this love is feral. I see the scars on his face and know he'd do anything for me.
Anything. Raffael is a predator, one of a kind.
But he's chosen me for a mate for whatever reason, and I see the promise in his eyes that he'd do whatever it takes to keep me safe.
He'd swallow a grenade for me, I know he would. The sudden feeling blooming in my chest expands; it’s overwhelming. But I'm not ready to say it out loud.
"Catskills it is," he nods, turning his attention back to the road without a trace of disappointment on his face. He must know that for a moment, I was right on the brink of saying the words he's been whispering to me every night. I love you. But he doesn't push. He never does. At least not me.
Raffael is so much more of a man than Roberto could have ever been, and he proves it with every moment we spent together.
He opens the door to the old truck even though nobody is looking or expecting it in this neighborhood.
Now I see why he chose this particular vehicle.
It fits with the surroundings. This neighborhood is neither rich nor poor.
It looks like it has seen better days, and it might see worse here in a few years.
Right now, it's teetering right at the brink where neighbors mind their own business but are still there for each other—the perfect place for a shelter.
The building where Raf parks the car must have been a sort of clubhouse at one time. Maybe a community center. There is a pool and even a mini golf course, and the building itself seems big enough to house several people.
The small door by the fenced-in yard squeaks when Raf pulls it open for me.
The grass doesn’t look like it has been recently cut; weeds are sprouting in several places, crying out for regular landscaping.
So are the rose bushes by the side of the building.
Several wooden steps lead up to a crooked veranda that wraps the entire perimeter.
Without knocking, Raf opens the front door via a digital print reader.
I look closer, seeing the security that doesn't match the rundown feeling of the place.
Several cameras are strategically placed, probably encompassing the entire structure.
The door opens with a click. The peeling paint is only a diversion from the thick metal it's made from.
Voices drift toward me from inside. I hear the laughter of children, and my hand moves to my chest. I love children.
Always have. I've always wanted a dozen kids of my own, but not with Roberto.
I sneak a sideways glance at Raffael. The possibility of having kids with him strikes me hard.
How would he be as a dad? That question alone shows me that I don't know as much about Raf as I should.
"Oh, now that's a surprise," Lexy comes out of a doorway, followed by a burly man in jeans and a shirt. A gun is tucked into his waistband.
I step out of Raffael's space and surprise myself and Lexy by folding her into my arms. "I missed you."
She's probably not the hugging type, because she stiffens, but I can't help myself.
The girls and I would always hug each other, mostly to make up for the lack of attention our mothers gave us.
Well, at least Cammie, Gigi, and I after our mothers died.
Izzy's mom, Eliza, has hugs enough for all of us.
"Oh, okay… okay…" Lexy squirms. I grin and let her go. I would have been more mindful of her personal space had I thought that she might have been a victim of abuse, too, but I can't imagine that being the case.
"Soph just wanted to see the shelter," Raffael fills Lexy in.
"And you," I add with a smile.