Chapter 28 Rafe
RAFE
Riley's been nervous all morning. She hardly slept last night, and the entire drive from the Adirondacks to Buffalo, she's done nothing but chew her nails and nod off while I drive.
I wish there were something I could do to help her relax a little, but she appears to be wound tighter than a piano string. I can barely get her to speak.
And now, as we pull up in her parents’ snow-covered driveway, she has both hands covering her face and she's shaking. I put the car in park and reach over gently to pull her hands down one at a time, and her bottom lip is pushed out into a pout.
"I'm nervous, Rafe. I don’t want my parents to be angry."
My mind goes to the expensive bottle of wine we brought along with us as a gift—or maybe a peace offering.
I'm not sure what sort of people her parents are, but I gotta make amends to them for all of this.
Riley is the one feeling all the guilt, but that blame should be squarely on me.
There just isn't a good way to let her off the hook with her parents without telling them the whole story, and then I'd end up in jail.
"It'll be fine, baby. You'll see." Even calling her my "baby" feels awkward at times because it's so far out of my wheelhouse to be gentle and loving with people. But the word seems to brighten her expression a little.
I climb out of the car and around it, opening Riley’s door, then we walk to the front door together, carrying the wine in my arm.
Her mother opens after we ring the bell once, and she steals Riley from my arms in what looks like a terrifyingly crushing hug.
Riley cries softly into her mother's chest while I glance over top of them into the house.
As suspected, it's decked out for Christmas with a massive tree dominating the room, lights sparkling on almost every surface, and a pile of gifts under the tree that rival the toys in Santa's workshop. I see Riley's father come into view in a doorway and he still looks like he hates me.
"Thank you for taking care of my daughter," Mrs. Maddox says, and I hear the tremor in her voice. "We were so worried."
"She didn't need much taking care of," I say. "You raised an incredible woman."
Riley's sister steps forward as we're ushered into the room and Mrs. Maddox closes the door behind us.
I see the skepticism written all over her face.
She's shorter than Riley, curvier, with the same light brown hair and green-hazel eyes.
But where Riley's gaze is steady and assessing, Lila's is guarded.
She nudges into the hug between mother and daughter and wraps her arms around them both.
It's difficult watching these women cry so much and all over something I started, but it's good to see them back together.
I know the way humans work, and while Mr. Maddox may never forgive me, healing is already happening in this family.
When they break up, the youngest Riley woman turns toward me. "I'm Lila," she says. "Riley's sister."
"Nice to meet you." I offer my hand in a hand shake and she barely grips it.
"You too." She doesn't sound convinced yet, but I'm sure I'll win her over.
Riley's father hasn't moved from his position near the doorway, and I can feel his eyes on me.
Like any man assessing a potential partner brought home by a daughter, Mr. Maddox's eyes bore into me.
He's a proud man. I can tell it by how his chest is puffed out and his arms are crossed in anger.
And he doesn't like not being in control.
It makes it easy for me to know how to handle him.
"Rafe is a businessman," Riley says, filling up the hollow silence. "He owns a pharmaceutical distribution company. We met a few weeks ago, and he just swept me off my feet. I know it sounds crazy, but I've never felt this way about anyone before."
Her mother smiles, and I see tears glistening in her eyes.
"Love doesn't always make sense. Sometimes it just happens.
" She's holding Riley's hand now, guiding us toward the chunky furniture.
Lila is strangely quiet, still clinging to Riley's side as we go, and I still hold the wine in my arm like a tiny infant.
"Exactly," Riley says, and she looks up at me with an expression so full of affection that I almost forget we're lying to everyone.
Her mother claps her hands together. "Well, you must both be exhausted. Why don't you sit down, and I'll make some tea? Or coffee? Rafe, what do you prefer?"
"Coffee would be great. Thank you."
She disappears into the kitchen, and Lila follows her, leaving me alone with Riley and her father. The tension in the room thickens, and I see Riley's father shift his weight. He steps forward with a tight jaw and glowers at me as he says, "Riley, why don't you go help your mother?"
Riley hesitates, glancing between us. "Dad—"
"Go on. I want to talk to Rafe for a minute.
" His eyes narrow on me as his chin lifts, and I have to stifle the urge to chuckle.
It's a bit endearing that he wants to be the macho father, but he isn't intimidating to me.
A little nerve-racking, maybe, because I have to handle this with care when normally, I'd just pull my gun and be done with it.
But if I intend to keep Riley in my life, I have to handle this correctly.
She squeezes my knee and stands as I slide the wine bottle into her arms with a look I hope she finds reassuring. Her response is a nod and a grimace and she heads in the direction her mother and sister went while I look up at Mr. Maddox as he gestures to the door.
"Let's step outside," he says.
I follow him out onto the porch, where I'm sure I'll get a tongue lashing even Sal would be proud of. He closes the door behind us and turns to face me, his arms crossed again. This time, the glowering expression is more resolved, more stern.
"I'm going to be direct with you," he says.
"I don't know anything about you, and that's fine.
But my daughter shows up after being missing for weeks with some story about a cabin in the mountains and falling in love.
So I'm not really comfortable with your being in my home.
" His voice is thick and heavy, full of grief, and I want to put him at ease.
"You need to tell me what you think you're doing with my daughter. "
I meet his gaze and hold it. "I love her, and I'm going to marry her."
He blinks, clearly not expecting that response. "You're going to marry her." He says it like a statement, not a question, and the deadpan look he gives me is comical.
"Yes."
"You've known her for a few months, and you're already talking about marriage?"
"Yes." I nod as I say it and keep my expression absolutely firm because I have thought of this moment a dozen times since that conversation with Sal.
I knew Riley would want to see her family.
I knew she would insist on my meeting them, and in my gut, I know I want to be with her.
She's it for me. No other woman will ever live up to the standard she's set.
He stares at me for a long moment, shaking his head. "You hurt her, and I don't care who you are or what kind of business you run. I will make your life hell. Do you understand me?" The resolve in his voice makes me actually believe he'll try to, so I crack.
I can't help it. I laugh.
His expression darkens. "You think that's funny?"
"No. I think you underestimate your daughter." I lean against the porch railing and cross my arms. "Riley can handle herself. She's one of the strongest people I've ever met. She doesn't need you to threaten me on her behalf."
"She's my daughter. It's my job to protect her." His chest puffs out again, chin tipping up slightly.
"I know. And I respect that. But I'm telling you right now, she's not some fragile thing that needs protecting.
She's capable and smart and resilient. And if I ever do hurt her, she'll make my life hell long before you get the chance to.
" I leave the smile on my face so he can see how serious I am about this.
I'd never in a million years even think about hurting Riley, but I know even if I messed up and did, she'd make me pay.
He's quiet for a moment, and his anger softens and his chest relaxes. He takes a few deep breaths and stares out over the snowy front lawn. "You really believe that?" he asks.
"I know it, Mr. Maddox," I tell him, turning with him to stand shoulder to shoulder, watching snow falling. "You raised her right. And I'm a lucky man to be able to benefit from that."
He grunts and his whole belly shakes, and strangely, I picture him dressed up in a Santa suit with grandchildren on his knee at Christmas.
It's a heartwarming thought. "She's always been that way," he says, "even when she was a kid.
Strong-willed and independent. She used to drive her mother crazy because she never wanted help with anything.
She always had to figure it out on her own. "
"That sounds like her." I chuckle.
He turns back to me, and I see the vulnerability in his eyes now. "You really love her?"
"More than I thought I was capable of loving anyone."
"And you're going to marry her."
"Yes. Soon… With your blessing."
He studies my face, and I can see him trying to decide whether to believe me. "You'd better treat her right. Because if you don't, you'll answer to me. And to her mother. And to her sister. And trust me, her mother is the one you really need to worry about."
I smile. "Noted."
He extends his hand with a firm grip and an expression of approval as I accept his handshake.
"Come on," he says. "Let's get back inside before they send a search party." Smiling at the irony, I follow him back into the house.
Riley's in the living room now with her mother and sister, all three of them talking at once, their voices overlapping in a chaotic way but it somehow works. Riley looks up when she sees us, and I see the relief in her expression.
"Everything okay?" she asks.
"Everything's fine," her father says. "We were just getting to know each other."
Her mother has a tray of drinks on the coffee table, which she repositions as she says, "Coffee for you, Rafe. And tea for everyone else. Now sit down, all of you. It's Christmas, and we're going to enjoy it."
We settle onto the couch, Riley beside me and her sister on the other side.
Her parents take the chairs across from us.
It feels very homey and festive, two things I don’t think I remember ever feeling before.
But with my arm around Riley and my heart full, I think I'm beginning to see why Riley insisted I meet her family.
And I know why she made those harsh comments about people caring about her weeks ago.
This feeling is something so fulfilling, I feel like I never want to leave. I sip the coffee and listen to them talk about the wedding plans for a few days from now, and I soak up every minute of the magic.
When Mrs. Maddox mentions opening some gifts, Riley leans into me and sighs softly. "You'll love this," she whispers. "My mom goes overboard with presents every year."
We gather around the Christmas tree, and Riley's mother starts pulling wrapped boxes from underneath, handing them out to the girls.
I watch as Riley and her sister tear into their gifts, laughing and exclaiming over sweaters and books and little trinkets that clearly mean more than their monetary value.
Then Riley's mother hands me a small box wrapped in silver paper.
I stare at it. "This is for me?"
"Well, it has your name," she says. And she looks at Riley and Lila, who exchange a snicker and sideways glances.
I look at Riley, and she's smiling, nudging me. "Open it."
I tear away the paper slowly, revealing a small velvet box, which I open, and inside is a key. Not a house key or a car key. Just a simple brass key with a red ribbon tied around it.
I look up at Riley, confused. "What's this?"
She takes my hand and brings it to her lips where she kisses my knuckles. "It's a key to my heart. Because you're my locksmith, Rafe. You're the only one who's ever been able to get past all my defenses. And no one else is ever going to have that title. It's you or nothing."
I get a little choked up at that—me, a man who kills people without remorse. It's too much emotion for me. I set the gift aside and then I pull her into my arms and hold her tight.
"I love you," I say quietly, so only she can hear.
"I love you too."
Her family watches us with smiles on their faces, and I realize that this is what I've been missing my entire life. Not just Riley, but this. The warmth of a family. The feeling of belonging somewhere. The knowledge that no matter what happens, there are people who will stand by you.
I'm not letting this go. I'm not letting her go.