26. June
JUNE
The scream echoes through the house.
Priya looks back toward Rafe’s office with an expression of pure horror. “Maybe, ah, we should?—“
But Hattie cuts her off. “That’s just Daddy working.”
Priya’s face pales as she stares at me pleadingly.
I don’t even know what to say, because Hattie’s right.
Rafe tried to warn me. Earlier, after we slept together, he tried to tell me.
Only I didn’t know how bad it would get.
Another scream. This one cuts short.
“Okay! Let’s move upstairs!” Priya hops to her feet and puts on a brave face. “What do you think, Hattie? Or maybe we can take a walk outside?”
“No, I don’t want?—“
A third scream and a slamming door.
“Yes, walk time!” Priya drags Hattie up and practically carries her to the door.
“Mom!” Hattie complains, but I don’t try to stop them. Instead, I usher the pair out the back and toward the garden path.
“Good luck!” I wave as Priya hurries to get Hattie away.
What the hell is my husband doing?
I want to say it gets better after that, but it sure doesn’t.
All day long, there are banging doors, slamming objects, and screams. So many pained, scared, violent screams.
They make my teeth chatter and my blood run cold.
The rumors are flying though and the whole mansion’s on edge. Even Byron seems worried. “You don’t know what’s going on, do you?” he whispers furiously when I make a quick stop to the kitchen for a snack later that afternoon. “Everyone’s upset.”
“I have no clue, honestly.”
“They’re being called back to Rafe’s office, one by one—“ He shivers and covers his mouth with his hand.
“You’ll be okay, don’t worry.” I pat his arm and give him a sad smile, because I really have no idea if that’s true.
This isn’t my place. Rafe’s got a second life, and while it sometimes bleeds through and makes me miserable, he tries to keep it contained.
There’s my husband, and there’s the Don.
Rafe leaves the Don behind when he comes to sleep in bed with me.
It goes on like that all day. Even Marnie notices. “Jesus, did your husband start murdering everyone down there or what?”
“I think it’s both Rafe and his brother Kellan.”
Marnie’s eyebrows raise. “He’s got a brother?”
“A few of them, actually, and—“ I swat her arm. “Marnie! They’re hurting people and you’re honestly thirsty for them right now?”
“I mean…” She trails off and shrugs sheepishly. “I haven’t been with anyone since the divorce and if Rafe’s brother is even half as hot as he is?—“
“You’re a monster.”
“No, they’re the monsters, and if they fuck half as good as they seem to torture, I’m ready to turn to the dark side.”
Eventually, the stress of the house gets to me. Priya has to go home around six and that leaves me alone with Hattie. I try to distract my daughter by playing movies loudly in the upstairs living area, but that only goes so far.
The whole place is an anxious mess. Everyone’s afraid of what’s going to happen to them when it’s their turn to visit the boss’s office.
Once Hattie’s down for bed, I can’t take it anymore. I storm downstairs, march past the guards, and shove my way into Rafe’s inner sanctum.
I expect a metal chair bolted to the floor, plastic sheeting, bloody instruments of torture?—
But instead find Rafe puffing a cigar, his brother Kellan sitting across from him, both of them with their feet up on Rafe’s desk.
“Well, you two look comfortable,” I say, unable to hide my frustration.
Kellan cranes his neck toward me. “Hello, June, wonderful to see you again.” He puffs his cigar and climbs to his feet. “But I’m guessing based on the look on your face that this isn’t going to be a happy conversation.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“In that case—“ He salutes me with two fingers. “You can deal with the big boss directly. I’m done for the evening.”
“Don’t you dare leave me alone,” Rafe calls but Kellan only slips past me, an amused smile on his face.
I shut the door behind him and face my husband’s desk, my hands on my hips.
“What the hell happened to doing this together?” I try to keep the anger from my voice.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Cut the shit. You’ve been in here making grown men scream like scared children all day. Everyone’s talking about it.”
“Are they?” He looks amused. “I don’t know why.”
“It’s got to stop, Rafe.”
He considers me a moment. Now that I’m facing him alone, I can see the weariness in his eyes.
His jacket is neatly folded and left on the couch and his sleeves are rolled up.
His knuckles look split and bruised. There are a few pictures missing from the shelves and I spot some broken glass that wasn’t properly cleaned up.
“It can’t stop, not yet,” he says and there’s a deep note of sadness. “Believe me, love, I hate this as much as you do.”
“So why are you putting everyone through it?”
“Because it’s my job. Sit down and stop looking at me like that, would you?”
I glance at the chair. “Is this where your victims were sitting?”
He rubs his face and lets out an annoyed sigh. “Stop it and sit.” He takes a puff and leans back. “I’m the head of this organization, which means certain tasks are my responsibility, whether I like it or not. I can’t hand this over to someone else, not when your safety is on the line.”
“But Rafe, do you really have to torture them?”
“It’s not all like that. Mostly I’m asking questions. Not all of the men deserve more.”
“It sounds like you’re cutting off limbs.”
“I haven’t resorted to that yet.”
“Hattie can hear, you know.”
That makes him pause. He looks at the end of his cigar with a grimace. “Has she said anything?”
“Only that you’re working, which isn’t exactly healthy for a girl her age. Do you want her to get used to all this violence? Make her think it’s normal?”
“I don’t know what I want.”
“Then I’ll tell you. As her mother, I think it’s best if we keep her as far away from this stuff as we can.”
“You may be right.” His voice is soft and distant. “I don’t know how to do this father thing.”
“You’re figuring it out.” Some of my anger eases. “But trust me for now. There’s got to be another way.”
“I’ll move to the garage, but I can’t stop.”
“Will she be able to hear the screams?”
“Most likely no, if you keep her away.”
I draw in a breath and lean back into the chair. “Fine. That’ll do.” I hesitate, glancing over my shoulder, and think of that conversation I heard between Nunzio and Byron. Something about him having to choose? I don’t know what it meant, but it sounded bad.
Only if I tell Rafe, what’ll happen to Byron?
The cook didn’t seem like he was on Rafe’s side. He actually sounded like he was protecting me and standing up for me. Can I really tell my husband about that conversation and risk getting Byron dragged in here and tortured?
I should say something, but I don’t.
Instead, Rafe wearily gestures at me. “Come here.”
“I don’t think so. I’m not in the mood to scream right now.”
“Get over here, you stubborn woman. I require comforting.”
I snort like that’s the most absurd idea in the world, but I stand and drift to him. “You need comforting? What about your victims?”
“They can rot for all I care,” he mutters and grabs my wrist, pulling me down into his lap. He lets the cigar rest in a crystal ashtray as I curl in against him.
His heart beats slow and steady. He’s warm and smells nice like whisky and smoke. I kiss his neck, near his collarbone, where his shirt’s open. He breathes in the scent of my hair.
When did this happen? When did it become normal to curl against him?
It feels good though. I can’t pretend like it doesn’t.
Like this is what I was made for.
“I’ll talk to Hattie. I’ll explain to her what she heard.”
“Seriously? How’s that going to work?”
“I don’t know,” he admits. “But I’ll come up with something. Even if it’s only halfway true.”
“Hattie’s resilient. Most kids are.”
“Even so. She’s been through enough. I don’t want to be the reason she’s even more scarred than she already is.”
I touch his cheek. “You say you don’t know how to be a father, but it sounds like you have it figured out.”
He puts his hand over mine and nuzzles against my fingers. “You’re wrong. Every day I feel like I’m going to ruin her. Like I’ll say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing, and she’ll resent me and hate me forever.”
“Be kind to her. Support what she needs. Be a little strict, but not too much. Don’t ever hit her. Don’t insult her. You’ll be okay.”
“You make it sound easy.”
“Well, you missed the infant stage, which means you’re coming in at the best time possible.”
“That was my plan all along.”
I smile to myself and close my eyes. “What was your plan? Seriously, before all this?”
“I was going to watch you.”
“Creepy.”
“But it’s true. I was going to watch you and Hattie grow, and I was going to keep my distance. I wanted you and her to have a normal life. I provided however I could from afar.”
“I have been exceptionally lucky. How many scholarships does a little girl possibly need?”
“I’ve always wondered if you were going to think hard about the money.”
“I didn’t want to, honestly. Felt easier to accept it at face value.”
“That was my plan. Keep sending you what I could. Take care of you in secret. But never get close.”
“Sounds… lonely.”
“Most of my life is lonely.” He breathes against my neck and kisses me, lips tickling my cheek. “I have four brothers and a massive organization, but I’ve always been alone.”
I shift to face him, palm against his chin. “You’re not anymore.”
“I know.” A half-smile. “It has its perks.”
He kisses me. I sink into him, kissing back. This man, who spent all day beating, torturing, and questioning the most dangerous men in his crime family, needs me in a way I’ve never been needed before.
I’ve always had to fix things. I was the den mother before I had Hattie. I grew up fast, took care of Grandma when I was too young to even understand that’s what I was doing, and learned to express my love by being useful.
But that’s not how Rafe needs me.
For once, I’m wanted for who I am, and not for what I can provide.
It feels… good.
Really good.
“I’m starving,” he murmurs, breaking off the kiss. “I want to have dinner with you.”
“So long as there’s no screaming.”
“I promise I won’t make you scream until after we’re done eating.”
“Sounds like a deal.”
I kiss him again. I linger, thinking, this room was a hellish mess for dozens of people today—while for me, with him, it’s heaven.