I thought about calling Mia, but she’s too connected to Rafe. I do believe completely that she meant what she said and she’ll take me in if I come back, but I can’t tell her what just happened between me and Sin. Rafe is her family more than I am, and I don’t think she’s given up her idea of me and Rafe having our fairy tale ending. It just seems like telling her I nearly fucked Sin on Rafe’s couch may be a conflict of interest.
I’m going to rip Marlena’s eyeballs out. I’m going to strap her to a chair, light cigars and burn her arms with them, take a knife and cut open her abdomen so her stupid innards spill out all over the floor.
I just want to murder her, that’s all.
It’s probably Sin I should want to murder, but I would miss that monster too much if he died. As mad as I am at him, I still wish he were here instead of with her.
I’m so fucked.
My eyes are adjusted to the dark, but Rafe’s aren’t yet, so I see his hand go to the light switch when he comes in, but he pauses when he realizes I’m in bed. He decides to leave the light off so as not to disturb me and steps inside. He moves slowly, peeling off his jacket, then starting on the buttons of his dress shirt. I wait to see if he’s drunk, but if he is, I can’t tell. He’s too graceful to stumble. It’s odd to think of a man like him as graceful, but it seems like everything comes easily to Rafe Morelli, even walking while drunk.
Well, everything but me, I guess.
Bet he didn’t see that coming when I fucked him the first day I met him.
My lips curve up in mild amusement, but it’s too much effort. Rafe peels off his shirt and I see his muscular back in the moonlight. I watch as he unbuckles his black belt and draws it off.
Ever since Sin made taking off belts so sexy, I can’t not respond to them. Seeing Rafe’s hand wrapped around that belt makes me yearn for things, but I think it’s rooted in sadness more than real sexual desire. It’s the horrible thoughts that have been replaying over and over in my head that Sin was with Marlena, that he was going back to her. Especially after I turned him on and left him unsatisfied, he undoubtedly did something with her. Even if he didn’t fuck her, he probably let her suck him off, and the thought of someone else’s mouth wrapped around him makes me feel like I’m dying.
I should fuck Rafe.
Rafe is undeniably beautiful. I’m not in love with him, but he could give me an escape, even if only for tonight. At least, I think he could. I would hate to be a cocktease again, like in the bathtub. I don’t want to get him going if I can’t finish the job. It’s not nice, and I don’t mean to, it’s just I lose my nerve and get cold feet when it comes down to it.
Rafe just isn’t Sin, and even though I once thought Rafe the hottest man I had ever seen, that was before I met that ruthless asshole. Before he chained my wrists to his bed and stole my stupid, fool heart.
Everything aches, and I just want it to stop. Love isn’t supposed to hurt this much. The only way it should hurt is maybe the enormity of it weighing on you, the feeling of loving someone too much to handle—fleeting moments, but not this. Not searing pain. Not a tortured mind and endless misery. I should never have to think about someone else physically possessing what belongs to me. I feel like Sin belongs to me, but if he’s spending the night with another woman, he clearly doesn’t feel the same way.
Then again, if I fuck Rafe because I’m sad, I’m letting someone else physically possess me. But fuck, why should I be loyal to Sin if he doesn’t have to be loyal to me?
Maybe he didn’t do anything with her.
I feel pathetic holding onto that. It’s a stupid thing to think. Sin had reasons for not fucking me, reasons he doesn’t have for not fucking her. I felt how hard he was on the couch; I know he was turned on. He certainly didn’t get relief from me, and I know he went back to her, with her skanky winking smiley face bullshit.
She won’t be able to wink after I cut out her goddamned eyes, now, will she?
See if Sin still wants to fuck her then.
“Hypothetically, if I wanted to maim someone, would you help me cover it up? And clean up the mess? I want to do the harming, not so much the cleaning.”
Rafe spins around, surprised, since he must have assumed I was asleep. “Sure,” he says, off-handedly. “I’ve got a whole team for that kind of thing. You think I get these hands dirty mopping up blood?” He shakes his head, dismissing the idea.
Cracking a smile, I ask, “You never have?”
“Well, sure, back when I was a baby gangster,” he allows. “Not recently. I’m too high up for that kind of thing now. You only get your hands dirty on my level if you want to. You get my perks by association, though. If you want someone dead, you don’t have to do the dirty work. Give me a name and I’ll get it done.”
“No, I want to do the dirty work. At least, I think I do. I’ve never carved out someone’s eyes with busted sticks before, but that’s what I’m leaning toward right now.”
“Ouch,” he replies, stepping out of his pants and kicking them into the corner. “Who pissed you off? I hope it wasn’t me. I like having eyes.”
Rolling mine, I tell him, “Yeah, I bet you do, that way they can wander all over the place. How many chicks draped themselves around your table tonight while I was away? Maybe carving out the eyeballs of whorebags is going to be my new hobby. That’s a pity. I would have preferred painting.”
Smiling without concern for my bloodthirst, he walks over to his side of the bed and pulls back the blanket so he can climb in. “Someone’s grumpy tonight. Do you need another massage?”
“Why does Gio cheat on his wife?”
That clearly was not the response Rafe expected. “Uh… I guess for the same reason most unfaithful men do. Boredom. Dissatisfaction. The desire for something different. He’s been fucking the same woman for over a decade.”
“Yes, because he married her. He chose her. He agreed to that. Does she cheat on him, too?”