Chapter 43 Valentina
FORTY-THREE
VALENTINA
“You haven’t mentioned Rafael.” Dale stares at me expectantly, the gourmet breakfast spread set out before us straight out of a magazine. I remember when I would’ve been impressed by such a thing—yearned for a giant house full of doting workers. Now, it all seems like too much.
I rub my arm, brushing off the sudden chill. “I don’t know what to ask.” It’s as close to the truth as I can get.
More accurately, I’m terrified of what she might say, because lying in the dark last night, sandwiched between Dale and Faith, I realized my ultimate truth: no matter how bad Santos—Rafael—is, I don’t think I can let him go.
It’s one more villainous act they can hold against me.
I’m as selfish as they all think I am, and even though I want to be better, in this particular area, there’s no hope for redemption. Rafael could be the devil incarnate, and I’d still seek comfort in his embrace.
I’ve never wanted someone as badly as I want Rafael, and there’s no way I can let him go.
“How about start with this: ‘did he hurt you’?” Stetson shoves a bite of pancake into her mouth.
My own food sours.
“Stetson, geez.” Faith rolls her eyes.
I push around the fruit on my plate, no longer hungry. “Did he hurt you?” I can barely whisper the question.
Dale sets her fork down, and I brace for the worst. In a perfect world, I’m able to repair the damage with Dale, and in turn, my brother, but not at the expense of the man I’ve come to find strength in.
I’ve been small and scared and weak my entire life. I refuse to lose that.
“He was different from his brothers, even from the start. He held me down, but he never touched me more than that. And when he held me down, he cried,Valentina. He didn’t want to—it hurt him as much as it hurt me, I expect—but his brother was evil, and I know Rafael was as much a prisoner as I was. ”
My gaze flicks up to Dale’s, her face soft as she talks about her horrific trauma with such clarity. I’m in total awe of her strength, envious of it, even. As if reading my mind, she smiles. “It’s taken me months of therapy to find this perspective, V. But it’s worth it—lasting peace is worth it.”
I’ve never known lasting peace in my life.
I nibble my lip. “If I forgive him, Mateo will never—”
Dale shakes her head. “You let me worry about Mateo. He’s just protective; it’s his greatest quality and greatest demise.”
I bite down on a quick retort, swallowing the bitter words. Instead, I whisper, “Can you forgive me?”
“Yes.” Not a breath passes between us before she says the word with such finality. I want to believe her, but the voices in my head are too loud, shouting about lies and deception.
“How?”
It’s Faith who speaks. “V, we’ve all been hurt, cut so deeply that we hide the best parts of ourselves to protect them.
But friends, these friends, don’t care about your scars.
We only care about the heart beneath it all.
You don’t have to fix yourself to sit at this table; you just have to be brave enough to pull up a chair. ”
Tears prick my eyes, and I try to blink them furiously away.
Finding Rafael’s one thing. Finding a group of friends who care only who I’m becoming and not who I was is quite another.
“Thank you.” I stutter on the phrase, its presence foreign to me.
Poppy babbles, her girly giggle drawing everyone’s attention blessedly away from my face. Quickly, I swipe away a tear, brushing it on my pant leg before gulping down orange juice.
Faith’s hand finds mine under the table, squeezing only once before changing the subject completely, directing us to lighter topics.
I’m grateful, but for more than just this. She saved me, and I’d do anything to return the favor.
“You going home today?” Stetson buckles a sleepy Poppy into her car seat, adjusting the straps as she looks over her shoulder at me.
Dale closes the truck door, walking around to join the awkward tension that is Stetson and me.
Of all the girls, she’s the one I find myself most nervous around.
Not because she’s scary—although I’ve no doubt she’d put a knife in my heart if it meant protecting those she cares about—but because I see some of myself in her.
Stetson carries herself with the same dark cloud I find myself beneath, the one that reeks of trauma so vast and wide, no amount of time or space can fully repair what’s been broken.
She’s strong and confident, that much’s painfully clear, but she’s imperfect, and she doesn’t apologize for the discomfort she may make other’s feel.
If they don’t like her, fuck them. I want to be her; I want to find my shelter to weather the storm in, my light in the dark, my lifeline to cling to.
She’s a clear reminder there’s hope, and hope’s the most dangerous thing for someone like me.
“Uh.” I shrug. “I don’t know what to say to him yet.”
She leans in, kissing Poppy’s nose before closing the door and facing me.
“Take it from someone who married their own monster—it doesn’t matter if they’re good or bad men.
It only matters if they’re good or bad to you, how they make you feel, what they’d do to love you and be with you.
Gus was my stalker for ten years—” She smiles fondly, and unmasked shock sweeps over my face.
She laughs. “But in the end, there’s no one who loves my demons the way he does.
He helped me love myself, and that’s the greatest gift I’ve ever been given. ”
She climbs into the front seat, firing up the truck’s engine. “That, and my daughter.”
I nod. I’ll never have children of my own, but maybe I can learn to love myself.
“Don’t be a stranger.” Dale wraps her arms around my waist, hugging me. I stiffen within her embrace, completely caught off guard. I don’t hug people—I don’t know how.
She just chuckles, completely unaffected by my discomfort, and jumps into the passenger seat.
“Wait.” I look over my shoulder for signs of Faith. She ran inside to do something but still hasn’t returned. “I-I want to do something for Faith. Something real, for everything she’s done for me.”
Dale and Stetson both smile, nodding.
I lick my lips. “Dale, does Mateo still have that empty building he was telling me about when he sold the casino and ranch?”
Her eyebrows draw together, but she nods slowly. “Yeah, it’s in town. I still don’t think he has anything planned yet.”
“Would you talk him into letting me buy one of the storefronts?”
She shrugs. “Sure, but he’ll want to know what for.”
I look over my shoulder again, the sense of being watched crawling up my back. “Faith’s dream is to own a self-defense gun range. I’d love to help build her one. She helped me learn to protect myself, and—”
Dale waves her hand, a full smile spreading across her freckle dotted cheeks. “Say no more. That’s an amazing idea. I’ll make sure Mateo and I help.”
“Great. Just, uh, text me? I mean, with the details,” I stutter, feeling completely insecure.
“Gosh, it’s hard being the poor friend. My idea of a good gift is helping cover up a murder or something.
” Stetson scowls, but there’s a lilt of laughter to her voice.
She puts the truck into drive before winking out the window at me.
“I don’t got money, but I’m sure as shit a hard worker. I’ll be there to help. Just text me.”
And with a final, teasing smirk, they drive off.
“Shit, they left?” Faith bounds down the front steps, her hair loose, and I can’t help but stare. It’s the first time I’ve seen the golden waves in all their glory bouncing around her face. They glitter in the early afternoon sunlight, reflecting light like a crystal.
“Why do you always keep your hair up?”
“What?” She touches the stands like she didn’t realize they were still down. “Uh, habit, I guess.”
“It’s so pretty.”
She giggles, brushing off my compliment. “Stop flirting with me and go get your man. Come on, I’ll take you home.”
She walks around the front of her SUV, twisting her hair up in its signature knot before jumping in the driver’s seat. For a brief moment, I look back at the house, half expecting to find a ghost standing in the doorway.
Instead, my eyes snag on a swaying curtain on the top floor, the white drapes dramatically fluttering, as if someone was there and moved quick so I wouldn’t see them. But that can’t be.
Can it?
I rub a hand up my arms, brushing off the chill that seems to linger as a permanent fixture here. Part of me wants to flee from this haunted place as fast as I can. The other part wants to never leave—protect Faith from the ghosts that lurk within and hide from my own ghosts that lurk if I leave.