She feels…small.
A soft laugh drifts down the hallway behind me, pulling me back from my thoughts. The bedroom door is cracked just enough that I can see a thin line of darkness from the hallway. I step closer and peek out.
Rafe and Adela stand just outside their bedroom, half-hidden in shadow. He’s shirtless, broad shoulders catching the faint light, his muscles shifting along his shoulders. She’s backed against the wall, one leg bent slightly as one of his hands brace beside her head. He’s kissing her passionately. Her fingers curl into his hair as his other hand seems to be occupied between her legs. His mouth moves to her jaw, her throat. Lower…
I pull back before they see me. There’s a sharp twinge of pain, jealousy, and longing tangled together under my ribs. I think I’m going to better understand people like them soon.
That thought should terrify me.
They are violence, love, and danger. And instead of recoiling from it, I feel myself studying the reality of it, wondering what it would cost to become that unbreakable. I always thought I was moral. Law-abiding. Good.
But Jude is my weakness. He always has been. I would break laws for him. I would ruin lives. I would burn anything to the ground if it meant he lived. If it meant he came back alive.
Is that love?
Or is it something poisonous that only feels holy because it hurts? I don’t know exactly. I should, right?
I return to the bed quietly, slipping back beneath the covers. Micah shifts, instinctively rolling closer. I listen to their steady breathing, and wonder what our lives are about to become.
I wake to the sound of voices downstairs. For a moment, I lie still, letting my body decide if it wants to move. When I finally swing my legs over the edge of the bed, the room is empty.
I wrap a robe around myself and walk down the hall, careful not to slam the door. The carpet runner is thick and soft under my feet, muffling the sound of my steps.
The living room is bright with morning light, and the smell of coffee reaches me. Heather and Micah are seated at the kitchen island with Rafe and Adela, mugs in hand. They’re all relaxed, laughing at something Micah said.
Adela’s the one making coffee. She pours vanilla creamer into a latte, watching the swirl. When she looks up, her gaze lands on me. And I feel like she can see through every single layer of me.
“Good morning,” she says, warm as sunshine.
“Morning,” I manage, my voice raw.
Rafe looks up and smiles gently. I suddenly can’t help but picture them making out in the hallway last night. “You’re finally up,” he says.
I swallow, trying to stop my pulse from spiking. “Yeah. I couldn’t sleep.”
Adela sets the latte down in front of me. “You’re still tired,” she says, studying my face.
I nod once. “I guess.”
Her eyes flick to the terrace doors, and I feel the invitation before she speaks. “Come with me,” she says softly.
Rafe leans over and kisses her forehead, his smile never wavering. The man is wildly in love with and possessive over her. It makes me smile, honestly. For a horrible moment, I wish I had a man who would be like this over me. It seems Jude has given up on me. And that’s a shitty feeling. But I realize it’s way more complicated than that. Still. The part of me that wants to play victim and throw a tantrum truly believes that.
The terrace is warmed by the morning sun, though the air still carries that crisp of fall. The stone beneath my feet is cool, but heated enough. I breathe in and let the light hit my face.
Adela stops at the edge of the terrace, gazing out over the backyard. “I want to talk to you.”
I nod, suddenly aware of how small I feel beside her intimidating presence.
She turns to me, calm but direct. “You’re afraid.”
I want to deny it, to pretend I’m stronger than that. But the truth lodges in my throat. “Yeah,” I admit. “A little.”
Her lips curve. “It’s not weakness, you know. I think you’re brave.”
I blink. “Why?”
She sighs. “Well, first…you’re standing in my house,” she says simply. “And because you’re doing everything you can to save a man who is likely going through hell at this very moment.”