55. West
CHAPTER 55
WEST
The door shuts behind her, and I can’t wait. I’m already walking to open it again. “What,” a low, furious voice behind me says, “was that ?”
Someone is sitting in the armchair in the corner, by the pool table. Half hidden in shadows. I hadn’t seen him, hadn’t thought anyone would be in here.
This room is off-limits for the ball. But of course he would know his way around. “Rafe?”
He walks past the pool table and into the dim light of the room. “You’re…” He shakes his head. “The two of you? It’s not fake?”
I spread my arms out, hands wide. “I didn’t want you to find out like that.”
“No? How did you want me to find out?” He reaches up to undo the bow tie at his neck. “Were you two planning to sit me down and tell me you’re a couple and ask me to be happy for you?”
I can’t say yes. I can’t say anything, and my hands fist at my sides.
“Exactly,” Rafe spits. “I know you won’t do relationships, and she was under your protection. I asked you for a favor, and this is how you repay me? How you repay her ?”
“I’m not playing with her.”
“The fuck you’re not.” The anger pours off him in waves and out through the library. “Is this about the estate? Is my sister your backup plan?”
“Fucking hell, no. Absolutely not.”
“You’re too strategic not to have thought about it.” Rafe takes a step closer. “Get her to like you, trust you… then tell her you needed a favor in case your lawyers can’t solve it. She’ll help you keep Fairhaven and your reputation.”
“Rafe, that was never the plan. Never.”
“You forget that I know you.” He turns from me, his shoulders heaving. “How long?”
“Don’t—”
“How long?” he grits out.
“When we started pretending in public, we also started… in private.”
No sisters is one of the oldest rules we have. It was one of the first things we said, sitting in the common room at Belmont Academy, looking around and realizing the five of us could be the brothers none of us ever had. We’ve lost Hadrian, but the four of us have stayed true.
Until now. Here I am, over a decade later, and I’ve fractured it.
The punch comes faster than I can dodge. I wouldn’t if I could. He has every right to it. His fist hits me across the cheekbone, and pain blooms. He’s always been a damn good fighter. Polished by day and unbound by night, if he still frequents the rings.
“How could you?” His voice is ragged. “You took her in, you promised to keep her safe… She’s far too good for you.”
“I know that,” I tell him. All too well.
“When I found out you brought her to one of Viv’s poker games, I wondered if you’d lost your mind. Now I know you have.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “She’s her own person. You treat her like something delicate, something to look after. And she is, for fuck’s sake, of course she is. But she’s also strong, and fierce, and you didn’t even make sure she knew basic self-defense! She was being stalked for months before she came here to me, and you hadn’t taught her how to protect herself.”
“Because she will never have to.” He shoves me, hands against my chest. “That’s what we’re for. That’s what the security teams are for. I will always protect her.”
“But what about how she feels? Don’t you think she’d sleep better at night knowing she has skills of her own? She’s been terrified, and she’s been too scared to tell you.”
Rafe shakes his head. “I don’t want to hear how well you think you know my sister. Don’t mention her sleeping habits again.”
“Then punch me again,” I say. “We’ve fought before. Give me your worst.”
His shoulders rise. “You don’t know her better than me, and you don’t know what you’re asking for, West.”
“Sure I don’t.” I lift my chin, giving him my uninjured side. “You and your mother have put so much pressure on her to be perfect all the time that she doesn’t even let herself be real around either of you.”
The punch lands hard, and I take a step back from the pressure. “Do not talk about her,” he tells me. There’s nothing of the Raphael he presents as in front of me now. His bow tie is undone, and there’s glittering rage in his green eyes. “She is not yours.”
“She’s not yours, either. She’s hers.” I shove him away. “Ask her what she wants.”
“Right, because she’s been the one to set the tone between you, has she? I do know her. She doesn’t date. She’s not interested in relationships, and you have plenty of experience.”
“You have no idea,” I tell him, “what you’re talking about.”
“And I don’t want to.” He walks to the drink cart and grabs the crystal decanter of whiskey by its neck. He raises it toward me, a finger pointed. “Don’t call me. Don’t call her. Stay the fuck away from my family.”
“I can’t promise that,” I tell him. “It’s up to her, man.”
The look of betrayed anger on his face sears me to the core. But I won’t lie to him anymore. He isn’t the arbiter of Nora’s fate, and neither am I.
Only she is.