9
Isa
The sound of footsteps came through the foyer, and I studied Anna with my heart in my throat. Something about this murder felt different than the others, something about this one felt cruel in a way the others hadn’t.
I couldn’t explain it, because Maxim hadn’t tried to harm us directly either. The only difference was the fact that the Kuznetsovs had my sister. I should have been doing whatever it took for her to be returned safely. Instead Rafael was out murdering them all one by one.
He’d already killed Timofey after they’d taken Odina, and I had no doubt he would continue to kill the rest of the line when the opportunity presented itself. The only problem was that Dima and Pavel were all that remained.
Rafael stepped up behind me, touching his lips to the top of my head. I would have recognized his scent anywhere, even with the metallic tinge of death and blood clinging to his skin. He didn’t touch me aside from that, stepping around to the sink and washing his hands. The water ran red as he scrubbed beneath his fingernails, cleaning off whatever his quick solution had been while he was out.
I didn’t think I wanted to know what he’d done to get blood in every crevice ofonehand that way. I ran my eyes over the rest of him, noting the distinct lack of injury. Without a scratch on him, it didn’t seem like he’d encountered any kind of resistance in whatever he’d done to paint his hand with the red stain of blood.
“Did everything proceed as expected?” Anna asked, hanging up her dish towel as she yawned. I immediately felt terrible for making her feel like she needed to stay up with me. I’d had Hugo and Joaquin for comfort, but given their involvement in Odina being taken, I was feeling less than chatty with them.
“In and out,” Rafe said with a nod. “Let’s get you to bed,mi reina.”
I grimaced, staring at the still darkened night sky. Despite the late hour, the last thing I wanted to do was go to sleep in the arms of the man I was completely torn between hating andneeding.
I’d thought my family made me feel alone, made me feel different in a way that could never be reconciled, but having the distinct, final absence of my mother in my life made me realize that, in truth, I’d never really known what it was to be alone.
We’d had our differences, but she’d always been there. They all had, and I’d betrayed them to become a murderer like my husband.
“I’m not tired,” I said, sinking my weight deeper into the stool beneath me. I wasn’t interested in doing what he demanded, especially not after sleeping in a drug- and grief-induced haze for most of the day.
He stepped around the counter, closing the distance between us and dropping his clean hands to my waist. He lifted me from my seat, setting me on my feet directly in front of him and sliding a finger beneath my chin until I turned my gaze up to his.
“Goodnight you two,” Anna said, yawning once more as she retreated from the kitchen to find her way to her own bed.
“You’re my wife,” Rafael said, as if that was answer enough that I needed to go to bed just because he summoned me. To his demented mind, it probably was. “In the middle of the night, you’re in my bed.”
“That isn’t your bed,” I argued, latching on to the semantics. I hated that we both knew I was in no position to really argue with him, too desperate for the contact he provided. Even standing in front of him and trying to refuse to go to bed with him, my body sank into his embrace.
It remembered the way he’d held me while I cried, giving me the time I needed to just break. I still felt shattered, raw, and like I would never be the same again.
I wasn’t sure I even wanted to.
“I don’t want to sleep,” I murmured, pursing my lips into a pout. Nobody seemed to care what I wanted.
I wanted my family to know I was sorry.
“What you want and what you need are two very different things,” Rafael murmured, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear and grabbing my hand. He guided me toward the staircase, leading me up slowly. I didn’t have the energy to physically protest, even knowing I should have had an abundance after all the sleep I’d gotten.
“I slept all day.”
“You were also in another explosion, drugged, and cried for hours. All of those things mean you need more rest,” he argued, pushing open the door to the bedroom we shared. He wasted no time stripping off his clothes while I stood there awkwardly.
I understood his earlier comment that abstaining wouldn’t be a problem. Between my rampant emotions and the fact that I couldn’t help but blame him for what happened, as much as I blamed myself anyway, sex would be the last thing on my mind.
At least I had the doctor’s orders to keep him from taking what he wanted, because I didn’t think I would survive having that added to my inner turmoil in that moment.
Once he was naked, he moved toward me and grasped the hem of my dress and lifted it. As my underwear was revealed, he held my eyes and didn’t glance down at the body that he so smoothly stripped almost nude.
The faint sound of a generic text tone came from his pants, his head dropping in disappointment. Indecision warred on his face, and he hesitated before finally groaning and moving to grab his cell phone. He stared down at the screen for a moment, his eyes darting over whatever message he received before he gave me his eyes again.
There was a slight smile on his face, a hint of good news shining through as he delivered the words that gave me hope for the first time since the bomb had gone off.
“Your father is awake.”