Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
ADELINA
After everything I had done—or, how I had tried to be with Sas—he let a whore on the back of his bike. I supposed throwing myself at my husband to be wouldn’t work when all he wanted was skank!
And Graff just rode off with him.
Rafe, the one person I thought I could trust, was around but avoiding me like the plague. Didn’t any of these infuriating men realize how many guys I had to fight off back in college? True, those college boys may have been lapdogs, but they only wanted me, which is more than I could say for Sas.
He chose a used whore.
Worse. .. to my great disappointment, Graff was turning out to be Sas’s bitch.
And Rafe—I whipped around, jabbing a finger at him, and he turned his head with his eyes pinched shut. He didn’t even meet my gaze, but the pause in his action and the drawn scowl across his brows told me something misfired inside his brain.
He jerked his head the other way and held there for several seconds.
I wanted to rail at him, but I knew from past experiences that he needed a moment to come back from wherever he had gone. So, I waited with my hands on my hips as the last of the roaring engines died away outside.
After a beat, he opened his eyes and blinked them into focus.
Normally, I would be patient with him, but right then, my blood was boiling.
I opened my mouth to speak, but words wouldn’t come, so I grabbed his shirt, rose onto my tiptoes, and locked my lips with his. Hard.
He didn’t move at first, so I wrapped my hands around the back of his head and forced my tongue between his lips. I wanted to spear someone for everything going on. For all the frustration. For being kept in the dark. For being held prisoner.
I wanted revenge.
A revenge kiss?
Hell, a revenge fuck would be so much sweeter!
Finally, Rafe relented and kissed me back. His hands locked on either side of my face, and he moaned into the kiss. His tongue penetrated me, trading off with mine darting into his mouth. My blood heated, if that was even possible beyond my anger with Sas.
But it was turning into molten lava now, my body pressing against Rafe’s as his hand encircled my waist and lifted me higher.
At last, I pulled back, not on my feet anymore.
I looked him dead in the eye, trying desperately to catch my breath, and asked, “What the fuck happened in Church?”
He put me down and stepped back, running both hands over his head. Now his turn to be stunned into silence, his jaw worked wordlessly.
Not waiting for him to find the words, I stormed out of the common room and paused at the door to the hall where I would find my makeshift bedroom.
Or should I have said cell?
Probably not, because I wasn’t locked up anymore, only trapped by not having transportation away from this hell hole.
Although, there were other things keeping me here too. Like the conundrum who was my betrothed, and my own apparently masochistic need to make him acknowledge me as a woman.
Not a kid.
Not a princess.
A woman and future wife.
Sas, if I was being honest, wasn’t the only reason I hadn’t called for a rideshare and high-tailed it away. There was Graff, who had been so sweet at the outdoor art display and who inked my virgin skin. But also, I would be leaving my protector, Zio Rafaele, who seemed strong enough on the surface to handle this shitshow alone.
My gut told me that the silent manner he handled himself was a cover. Maybe it was the pauses with scowling, pinched eyelids? I didn’t know for sure, but he hadn’t showed any signs of happiness like he did when I’d been little. I missed how he once smiled at everyone, but the military erased that. He needed something or someone to ground him again. And there wasn’t anyone except for me.
Rafe loped after me, meeting me at the mouth to the bunnies’ rooms and then following me all the way down the hall. I threw open the door, but he calmly closed it once we were both inside. When I spun around on my heel, he was scanning every surface as if there might be a bomb hidden in plain sight. Then, his eyes lingered on the bed for a moment. Finally, his cautious gaze stopped at my feet.
He had been in here before, so why did he look at it differently now? Maybe my bedroom was bugged like I suspected from the start.
My uncle’s throat bobbed, and he clamped his lips shut.
Getting frustrated with the stoic silent treatment, I snapped, “No urge to kiss me now?”
When he didn’t answer, just put on the placid military officer’s face, I rolled my eyes and stalked into the bathroom. Reaching behind the tile wall, I turned on the shower.
Rafe didn’t follow me.
Instead, he lingered by my bed until I yelled, “Come here!”
He appeared in the doorway a few seconds later, red blooming on his cheeks.
“Tell me what happened in Church,” I demanded, voice drowned out by the splatter of water echoing around the close quarters.
Too close for my tastes—a small closet-like shower, a counter around the sink that wouldn’t hold half of my makeup items or hair products, and a toilet. Nothing like the soak tub and vanity I had at my father’s home, but at least, the toilet wasn’t a hole in the ground that I had to squat over.
Rafe stiffened. “The MC is planning to intercept a load of jewels from the cartel.”
“Jewels?” I played with my diamond necklace.
That was a product I knew well and understood, thanks to Nonna. Along with her belladonna patterned dresses, she wore a ring on every finger and had her ears pierced three times in each lobe just so she could wear more diamonds. All were good cuts, the ones that made the stones catch even the smallest rays of light.
“I don’t get it.” I stuck my hand under the water, testing the temp.
“Don’t get what?” Rafe focused on the black-and-white tiled floor.
“Why the MC would be trying to steal jewels from the cartel when they needed to be paying them off for lost drugs? Won’t that just piss the Rojas brothers off more?”
My uncle had thinned his lips, wearing a grim frown. He clearly wouldn’t be spilling his guts to me about MC business.
Crossing the small bathroom to stand in front of my uncle, I dragged my wet finger along the strong line of his clean-shaven jaw. “You won’t share with me, Rafe?”
Again, he studied the floor, but I didn’t miss the shiver that ran through him.
“Will you pass the information along to my father?”
If my father was up my ass to find out information about the MC, then he sure as hell had to be up Rafe’s too. Still, Rafe held his tongue.
“Where did the MC go tonight?” I asked. “For the jewels?”
“No jewels tonight.” He shook his head. “There’s bonfire up at Red Rock Canyon.”
“Oh sure. Someone mentioned that,” I mumbled, “but what does this have to do with the jewels?”
“They’re celebrating.”
I groaned. “They haven’t done shit to get out from under the cartel, and they’re celebrating. Where’d Papà find these clowns?”
Rafe shrugged. “I think it’s just celebrating because they decided what to do.”
“Did you tell them a celebration is premature?” I demanded. “There are a lot of fucking ways this could go sideways.”
“They aren’t thinking they’ve won because of the jewels,” said Rafe.
“Then what are they celebrating?”
He locked his jaw, not telling me those details. Fuck, how was I going to give my father any intel?
The sound of the shower was the only noise for a moment, both of us breathing hard as we stared each other down.
Did he believe I needed to be kept out of the MC business like they tried to keep me out of the Mafia? What they didn’t know was how many times I’d gone through Papà’s desk. Or all the times I’d listened in on his phone calls. Papà’s stupid ego thought landlines were less likely to be overheard. But he hadn’t accounted for his oldest daughter.
“Really, Rafe?” I softened my voice, coating it with sugar. “You won’t tell me anything?” This was probably his protective instincts taking over. I’d been thankful for them at clubs, but not this time. “I’m not a kid. And Papà threw me to the MC like roadkill to coyotes. You too. So we’re in this together, Rafe.”
“Tesoro, plea?—”
“Don’t fucking call me that if you’re going to play their goddamn games and keep me in the dark.” I took a deep breath. My intent wasn’t to yell at him, but I couldn’t seem to help it, not when I could sense him trying to diffuse the situation.
“I’m not?—”
“Bullshit, Rafe!”
Nothing. He went still. Not the blink of an eye or the twitch of a muscle.
“Fine.” I planted my hands on my hips. “I’ll shower and change, and we’ll do to the bonfire.”
Rafe winced. “I don’t think that’s a good idea with us going to Vegas tomorrow to prepare for”—he swallowed hard—“your wedding.”
“I don’t care.” I yanked my crop top over my head and looked at Rafe again just in time to see his eyes go round.
He threw a hand between me and his eyes. “I’ll wait out here.” He reached for the doorknob.
“No.” I stopped him. “Look at me.”
I waited.
Kissing was okay, but looking at me in my bra?
“Look at me, Rafe,” I said again.
His dark eyes flashed up and locked with mine, and a jolt blasted through me with the dark desire I saw written in them. I tried to ignore it, but my arms drifted up to fold over my chest.
Shit.
I hated the embarrassment that small gesture showed, so I lifted my chin another inch. “I’ll let Papà know about the jewels when we get there tomorrow. He should be able to help with plans.”
“Adelina, you shouldn’t . . . ah . . .”
I dropped my shorts and turned my back on Rafe.
“Ah . . .,” he stammered again.
I smirked and walked around the shower wall before shedding my bra and matching lace panties.
“I’ll, um, be out here,” said Rafe, his voice fading with the distance and the roar of the water.
As the warm water pelted my shoulders and ran down my body, I tried desperately to figure out how I had landed in this mess.
Or how we —Rafe and I—ended up here. All so Papà had better access to the Mexican cartels. But now we were dealing with the Colombian ones on a different front. And more hairbrained schemes.
Perhaps it had been a good idea to teach me to shoot. I curled my hand into the position of holding a gun, my finger brushing the imaginary trigger. Aiming at a droplet on the tile, I squeezed like Rafe had taught me. Everything had been good when we were shooting, but Rafe had to go and ruin it by...
I shook my head.
The kiss had already played through my memory a hundred times, and then I’d been the one to initiate the second one.
He hadn’t said anything about it since. He had avoided me. Until I kissed him and gave him nowhere else to hide. But he’d clammed right up since then. And he was still shutting down! What a fucking coward. All of them were.
Rafe.
Graff.
Sas—who I was supposed to marry.
Well, the joke was on him if he thought he could have his cake and eat it too. I was the sweetest, more delicious cake, anyway. Rafe knew that. And right now, I didn’t want to ever give Sas a taste of how delectable I could be.
I finished up my shower, not washing my hair because I didn’t have time to style it, and exited the steamy bath.
Rafe watched me under his long, dark eyelashes that framed his brown eyes. Always watching me, even when he thought I didn’t know. But I felt his gaze like a warm hand on my shoulder, like always.
My ever-present protector.
I reached into a drawer for clean panties and a fresh pair of jeans and set them on the top of the dresser. “If Sas thinks that he can continue to fuck that whore, he’s wrong.”
“Adelina,” Rafe breathed, my name barely there.
“It’s all fun and games for my bastard of a fiancé!” I spat. “Just wait until my father learns he’s fucking anything with a pussy. I’ll be out of his marriage contract in short order, and we’ll be the fuck out of here. These idiots in this motorcycle club are burning themselves to the ground.”
“Adelina,” Rafe repeated as he took a step toward me. Then softer, “Tesoro...”
“What, Rafe? You’re doing a shit job if you’re trying to comfort me.” I whipped out a T-shirt and threw it on top of my jeans.
“That’s not what I’m trying to do,” he looked at me again, those eyes turning into molten chocolate.
“Then what?”
His jaw worked, finding no words, and my attention fell to the clothes. I considered grabbing them and modestly changing in the bathroom, but Rafe, of all the men in my life, was the only person I didn’t feel like hiding from at the moment.
I dropped the towel and stepped into my panties. When I looked up at him, he was watching me like he wanted to devour me right then and there. I smiled sweetly and pulled on the shirt—no bra—and ripped jeans.
There was nowhere for him to run and hide as I changed. And if he wanted to do something about it, I was all in.