Chapter 40
FORTY
RAFAEL SANTOS
“How do I fix things?” Valentina’s voice cracks, and part of me quivers with the need to go to her—comfort her after everything I’ve heard—but the other part, the one loyal to my family, bitter with regrets, clings to the wall instead.
It was all an accident—a tragic accident that meant nothing, and my entire family destroyed their lives because of it. I destroyed my life because of it.
“I think you should go to therapy,” Mateo, Valentina’s brother, states softly, like he’s afraid she’ll explode.
Fuck. Rightfully so. She’d have every right to burn this world down, and I’d love nothing more than to hold the fucking torch for her. She deserves that and so much more.
But I still don’t know where they took Jose’s body—where I can go to visit him and say goodbye. Does she even know?
“I can’t.” The panic in Valentina’s voice threatens to break me.
“Oh, babe, you can! I go, Dale goes; hell, even McCrae’s brother Gus goes. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s not a weakness. It takes strength to be vulnerable and fix yourself.” I hear Faith move closer to where Valentina stands.
“Why?” Valentina’s voice shakes.
“You deserve to get answers for yourself.”
“I’ve thought about talking to someone too.” It’s McCrae who says it, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little surprised. “What? I’ve got plenty of my own ghosts.”
“Speaking of, where did you go with the boy’s ashes? I understand why you did what you did, but that time’s past. Don’t you think his family deserves the closure? Wouldn’t you want to know if it was Gus?”
I don’t register the voice. The question’s enough to pull me from the shadows and straight into the lion’s den. “I’d like to know the same thing.”
At first, there’s deafening silence, and then my heart begins to roar, my gaze locking onto a face I hoped to never see again. Shame consumes me.
Is it too late to run?
“Rafael?” Adalene chokes out my name. I don’t have it in me to look at Valentina, but I can feel the heat of her gaze from here.
What have I done?
Knowing I can’t take it back, I whisper, “Hi, Adalene.”
“Who’s thi—” The enormous, suave man next to her stops midsentence, his confusion melting into pure fury.
Before I can think to get out of the way, he lunges for me, his giant hands wrapping around my arms in a vice-like grip. We stumble backwards, landing against the wall with a crash. A photo falls, the glass shattering across the floor, and shouting ensues.
But I hear none of it—see none of it.
As we fall, I lock with Valentina’s gaze, and instead of finding fury, I find only devastation.
I don’t even fight him off as he swings at me, his hand landing on my jaw with such force, my head bounces off the wall. Stars dot behind my eyelids, and I wish for nothing more than to sink into a black pit of nothingness and never return.
Not if I have to face Valentina’s hurt.
His fist skims my jaw again, and I close my eyes, preparing for the nose shot, when he’s suddenly yanked off me. A chill sweeps over my body as I lie there, my own hands fisted at my sides.
I had brothers, ones I fought with fists more often than not.
That was different. I wanted to defend myself. Here? I want to disappear and never return.
“Mateo! Calm the fuck down!” Adalene scolds the man, and I let out breath.
Even though I’d love nothing more than to disappear, I know there’s no hiding from this, from her.
I brace myself as I open my eyes, starring up at the confused and horrified people gathered around. The only face I don’t see is Valentina’s.
“Valentina?”
“You’ll never speak to her again,” Mateo snarls.
I push to stand, and no one offers to help—not that I’d expect them to. Running a hand over my busted lip, I pull my away fingers to see crimson.
“You know him?” McCrae sounds almost smug, and my eye twitches. The bastard’s never going to let this go.
“What’re you doing here?” Adalene reaches out, wrapping her fingers around Mateo’s quivering arm as he clearly fights his need to smash into my face again. “Mateo, relax, please.”
“Someone tell me what the fuck is going on.” I find Valentina’s face, standing behind the rest, her arms crossed in defense over her chest. She doesn’t sound hurt—she sounds pissed—but I know her well enough to know pissed is simply a cover up for the deepest wounds.
I’d rather shatter every bone in my body than be responsible for the pain hidden within her voice.
“I knew you looked familiar.” Faith crosses her arms, and I shoot her a confused look.
“What—”
“Faith, no!” McCrae warns right as Faith speaks.
“I’m the one who shot your brothers. Not McCrae and definitely not Valentina.” Gasps fill the room, but instead of feeling anger or relief, I only feel defeat. It weighs on my shoulders so heavily, I slump beneath it.
“You…” McCrae snarls, but it’s Valentina who finally steps toward me, silencing the room. I can’t take my eyes off her—the way she extends her neck, her eyes flashing as if she’s preparing to walk into battle.
She doesn’t know it, but I’d fall on the sword to save her. I’d take the poison if it meant sparing her pain. I’d do anything to take away her need to put her guard up around me again. Anything.
“What are they talking about, Santos?”
I search her eyes, hoping to see a small crack in the ice wall she’s quickly repairing around her heart. “Santos is my middle name. My full names Rafael Santos Marteniz.” I inhale deeply. “Jose was my little brother.”
As my words land, I see the clarity and devastation hit her, blow by blow.
She doesn’t speak, doesn’t scream, doesn’t so much as breathe, and it’s worse than if she’d done all three. This silence is too reminiscent of death—death of what we had, of what we could’ve had.
“Valentina, please.”
“Don’t talk to her,” McCrae and Mateo threaten at the same time, but I push off the floor and take a step toward her anyway.
McCrae wraps his fingers around my arm, yanking me back. Tension coils in his grip, and I expect him to hit me too, but before he can, Valentina snaps out of her daze, raising her hand. “Don’t. Let him go, McCrae.”
Everyone stares at her in confusion. She doesn’t look at me, but I know her words are for me all the same.
“There’s been enough bloodshed between us. I don’t understand it, any of it, but I can’t hold it against him. I’d have never missed that first day when he had a chance…and everything after. I can look past this—”
McCrae growls in protest. “Over my dead body. This fucking rat isn’t staying here. He’s responsible for everything—he shot me, shot at you!” He glares at me, his icy orbs piercing, and I prepare for the inevitable. “Did you tamper with her truck?”
They all stare at me, some with horror or fury—Valentina with composed indifference. My chest deflates. “Yes. I cut the brake line.”
There’s a round of collective gasps, but not V. She remains impassive—a wall of impenetrable ice.
“And the air conditioning. I fried that too,” I confess, deciding to get it all out now. It’s the least of my grievances at this point anyway.
“Tell me why we should forgive you,” McCrae growls, his fists at his sides. I don’t take my eyes off Valentina.
“I didn’t know. And as much as I don’t want to hurt anyone—” I hesitantly step toward Valentina, “—it’s only your forgiveness I care about.” It’s the truth, the only truth I have, even if it’s not enough.
Valentina’s icy facade cracks, understanding flicking across her face in a wave so quick, if I blinked, I’d have missed it. She’s there, still beneath the surface.
“You have it.”
“Like hell—” McCrae bellows, the glasses on the shelf rattling. It’s Faith who hisses at him to be quiet, and he instantly bites his tongue.
Valentina’s words are the small sliver of hope I’d been praying for, and I seize them, pulling my arm from McCrae’s shocked grip. “V, please. I’ll do anything. I’ll turn myself in. I’ll leave. I know I fucked up, but I was hurt and didn’t know you until—”
“I know.” It’s more than I deserve, and yet I won’t give it back.
My knees threaten to buckle beneath me—I’m in completely awe of her. Despite what she’s faced, she’s still able to find understanding.
“Tell me what to do.”
She exhales as the invisible weight of the war she’s been waging in her mind leaves her body in a burst of air. “Time. I need time, Santos—Rafael.” She mulls over my name, and the way she says it—my real name—has butterflies erupting in my stomach. Time, but not forever.
“I hurt you, and I’ll never forgive myself.”
Valentina’s head tips as she searches me for something. “You also saved me.”
I smile at that. “No, V. You saved yourself. I was just here.”
This, she finally smiles at, a small, sad smile, but it feels like I’ve won the lottery seeing it.
“What the fuck’s happening?” McCrae roars, and Faith steps forward, shooting him a threatening look.
“Enough. V, you can come stay with me for now, until you get things sorted out. McCrae, deal with the body outside. It’s important we clean this up quietly.
Dale, you should join us for a girls’ night, and bring Stetson.
Oh, and Poppy!” She smiles, clapping her hands like the entire world didn’t just explode.
Then, she looks at me, her smile fading as she crosses her arms. “Santos, or Rafael, whichever you go by, your job is to stay put.”
“I can’t leave.” Valentina looks at Faith like she’s sprouted a second head.
“You can and you will,” Faith states, leaving no room for argument.
Adalene wraps tentative fingers around Valentina’s hand, and V’s eyes snap down at the contact. “It’ll be fun. I’ll bring good tequila; none of that trash I know Faith likes to steal.”
V’s lips twitch again. “So you do that with everyone else. I thought that was our thing.”
Faith winks, leaning over to fake whisper, “Weed’s our thing.”
Valentina and Faith retreat to her room, Faith insisting she help her pack, unwilling to leave her side. The sight’s enough to make me grin like a fool, the ache in my lip fading.
Friends, family—people to love and care for her. It’s all she’s ever wanted, and it seems closer than ever.
The room grows quiet again, and I finally face Adalene, the renewed ache in my heart far outweighing any on my flesh. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, wishing it was enough.
Mateo quivers as he stands a step behind her, held back only by her delicate hand intertwined with his.
“I know, Rafael. Valentina’s right to forgive you—I did long ago.
” She offers me a tentative smile. “In both of our darkest places, you’re the one who stepped up and showed us a way out.
That’s not nothing, Rafael. It’s special. ”
My eyes flick to the barely contained beast salivating at her back. I understand his rage—fuck, if roles were reversed, I don’t know that Valentina could hold me back the way Adalene is. He’s a better man than I am, just like she said he was.
“I’m sorry to you too,” I say to the man, not expecting him to respond.
Surprisingly, he huffs, his gaze flicking down to Dale’s and softening.
“You guys share an experience I’ll never understand, just like you and my sister.
I can’t forgive you, not yet, but I’ll try.
” His dark eyes find mine—a much deeper shade of golden brown than Valentina’s, with the same sharp edge.
“For Dale, and for Valentina.” He doesn’t have to say the rest. I understand just fine.
I tip my chin, and he relaxes a fraction.
Valentina and Faith burst into the room, Faith dragging V toward the front door without so much as a goodbye.
I know she’s doing her best to keep Valentina out of her head, and for that, I’m grateful, but I’d love nothing more than to wrap her in my arms and make things right, even if it takes all night.
Especially if it takes all night.
As if hearing my thoughts, Valentina looks over her shoulder at me with longing so deep, I feel the ache as if it was a physical blow. She doesn’t say anything—whether she doesn’t know what to say or doesn’t know how—but I see plenty on her perfect face.
She cares about me and wants to make this work, and I vow, no matter how long it takes, I’ll work to make it right.
Mateo and Dale leave behind them, Dale offering me a small, quiet goodbye matched with an icy shoulder. McCrae stays in the kitchen, watching me like a hawk, even after Valentina leaves out the front door toward Faith’s car.
I watch the tail lights fade, hope filling my chest.
I don’t deserve it, but fuck, I’ll take it.
Finally, I look at McCrae, the house seeming emptier than ever. There’s unfinished business between us, and as ready as I am to put all this behind me, I have to know.
I square my shoulders and ask, “Where did you take my brother, McCrae?”
After several tense moments, he purses his lips. “I spread his ashes in my favorite place in the world. It’s what I would have wanted for my own brother.” He retreats from the kitchen without another word, and I picture a story he once told us about a his little brother and a beach.