“No,” he insists. “That’s not?—”
“What was the plan, Raffael? Were you willing to pretend to be my loving partner until when? The statute of limitations ran out?”
His jaw ticks. “There’s no statute of limitations on what he did to you.”
A tormented scoff escapes my throat. “So you were willing to sign yourself up for a lifetime of romantic manipulation?”
He stands taller. “You think I’m capable of that?”
He’s a man of bold action and ruthless authority. The type who would take the fall and ruin a friendship for the sake of that friend’s relationship with their father. Someone who would risk a kidnapping charge on a luxurious yacht to maintain the charade.
“You’re a man geared for strategy and manipulation.” I itch to get out of his shirt, to remove the scent of him from my skin. “We parted ways with you wanting nothing more to do with me, and now you’re selling your soul to keep Eliseo from facing the consequences of his actions.”
“We parted ways, Isla, because it was what I thought was right.” His voice gains an edge of menace. “And my desperationto now be with you is because I no longer have the restraint to give a fuck about anything other than us.”
Maybe it’s true. Maybe I could believe him, but—“You didn’t call the cops.”
He falls silent. Still.
Each second of muted suffering screams through me until he finally drags in an audible breath.
“He’s still my brother. And although I didn’t play a part in what he did to you, I certainly had a role in creating the man who was capable of abducting and imprisoning an innocent woman. I taught him to put family first. To protect his brothers above all else. And despite his sickening methods, that’s exactly what he was doing—trying to find out what you knew. If you were capable of destroying us.”
“And if I would’ve caved and told him?”
Guilt bleeds into his eyes. “I don’t know.”
Liar.
I wrap my arms around my middle, holding myself together with both hands. “I want to go home.”
“Isla—”
“Take me home,” I demand.
He hesitates, caught mid-breath, tension locking him in place, but I notice the moment defeat sets in. The pinpoint second the steel in him buckles. The very blink his gaze dims.
I battle the urge not to weaken at his downfall, not to bridge the void between us just to hold together the man who’s breaking me.
“I’ll get my keys.” He walks away, leaving the room, isolating me with the burn I frantically blink from my eyes.
When he returns, it’s with my tote bag hooked over his fingers, holding it out like a peace offering.
I beat back the betraying gratitude, grab the strap, then follow him to the elevator.
We descend to the parking lot without a word.
The drive through the city is no different. I rummage in my bag and find my phone, the urge to trauma dump building with every block we pass until I can’t take it anymore.
Me
I need you.
Quinn
Where are you?
Me