28
Isa
Ispent most of the night plotting ways to kill him. So much so that my dreams were filled with blood and gore. By the time I woke up the next morning, I hated myself for the violent turn in my sleep.
I didn't want to be like Rafael. I didn't want violence to consume me just because I was dominated by the presence of a devil. I would only be letting him win if I allowed him to change who I was.
But there was something brutal inside me. A part of me that longed to find justice where there was none.
I'd been thrown into a river without consequence. I'd watched time and time again as the crimes against my people went ignored. I'd been lied to. I'd been stripped of all my choices. I'd been drugged and kidnapped.
My entire life was a series of paying for other people's crimes. Just once, it would be nice to be the one committing them.
It would be bliss to earn the punishment myself.
It all simmered within me, feeling like I sat on the edge of a reckoning. As if the part of me that seemed to come to the surface after Rafael's introduction to my life had always been there, and I guessed it had.
The darkness had always been a part of me. I'd always been more at home in it than I had the sunshine.
The bed seemed foreign without Rafael's presence. Without his heat at my back and his hand cupping my breast in his massive grip while he slept, it felt like just another empty bed. A piece of furniture. I should have felt freer with him gone; instead I just felt alone.
I stretched my arms above my head languidly, pushing the button on the nightstand to draw the curtains open. I'd gone to bed with pajamas on for the first time since coming to Rafael's island, since he insisted on me sleeping naked with him.
But at some point in the past couple of weeks with him, I'd gotten more comfortable in my own skin. I couldn't stand the coarseness of even the satins and best cottons against my skin while I slept, especially not against my core that throbbed with need after his bullshit the afternoon before.
My eyes went to the cameras as I debated challenging him and his authority over me by touching myself, but I pursed my lips and got out of bed instead.
I'd wait until the night to torment him. To distract him from the real rebellion.
Hopefully, he'd never see that one coming.
Isat out on the daybed with a book beside me after eating one of Regina's pregnancy-inducing breakfasts. If there was any benefit to Rafe's absence, it was that I wouldn't be getting knocked up while he was gone.
We'd had unprotected sex far too often for my comfort, and I touched a hand to my stomach cautiously before shaking it off. I looked over at Joaquin, pursing my lips as I considered how to ask him for what I wanted from him. "Do you still think girls like me don't need to learn kickboxing?" I asked.
He dragged a hand over his face. "That's really none of my business. I suggest you take it up with your husband,mi reina," he said, clearly uncomfortable with the suggestion. It seemed like maybe Rafe had been verbal about his interest in keeping me protected like I was made of glass.
I wasn't, and I was sick of being treated like it.
"I did. He forbade it," I said with a shrug.
"As expected. You could get hurt kickboxing," Joaquin said in reprimand. "Let's not forget that it's only a matter of time before you're pregnant and need to think about those things."
"Well, I wasn't actually asking for kickboxing lessons. Just for him to teach me how to defend myself a little in case of emergency."
He hung his head, pinching his nose between his thumb and finger in aggravation. "You suggested that Rafael can't keep you safe. No wonder he tore out of here like there was a fire up his ass," he laughed. "You insulted the devil's manhood and lived to tell about it. Congratulations,mi reina. I think that might be a first."
I stuck my tongue out at him, not even bothering to argue the fact that I hadn't insulted him. Men were stupid and impractical and apparently their egos were more important than common sense. "What doyouthink?" I stressed, looking to get his opinion rather than just Rafael speaking through his mouth like the puppet master he liked to pretend to be.
"I think I like my tongue inside my mouth, so I'm not about to speak out against Rafael," he said.
"So you disagree. You think I should be able to protect myself just in case, because that's the sane thing! Why wouldn't he want me to be safe?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
"It might have something to do with the fact that you've already stabbed him once. Just a thought," Joaquin argued, but he twisted his lips to the side and came to stand directly next to the daybed. His eyes drifted over to the house in the distance where I'd seen the brothers emerge on the day I first spotted them, and my heart clenched in my chest at the reminder of my friend's betrayal.
Well, I supposed he'd never really been my friend in the end.
"He's not coping well, Isa," Joaquin said, wrapping his hand around the post that held up the canopy on the daybed. "He misses you."