He turned me on the bed, until I faced him, and his hands captured mine. The firm squeeze brought tears to my eyes, even not knowing what would come. “Is Odina—”
“Your father is in the hospital,” he said, cutting off my line of questioning. “I’ve arranged for the best burn specialists to see to his care, and he’s expected to make a full recovery. But there will be scars,” he said, his voice trailing off as buzzing rang in my ears.
“I don’t understand,” I said, shaking my head as I tried to follow the turn in the conversation. Realization struck me suddenly, a direct impact to my chest. “He came to pick up Odina?” I’d been so desperate for her to get out of the house, to get her away from me, that I’d unknowingly put my father in harm’s way by asking for someone to come get my sister.
“Dima and his men planted bombs on both your parents’ vehicles. Your father’s car that Odina drove detonated first, directly outside the house. That’s the explosion you felt.” I nodded, knowing as much even if it hadn’t had the opportunity to really penetrate in the aftermath. I’d been looking at the car and felt like something seemed wrong, felt the moment it exploded deep within my bones. “Your father was at the gate when your mother’s car exploded. He’d stepped out to speak to the guards at the booth. It’s the only reason he survived.”
Tears streamed down my cheeks, the knowledge that I’d caused my father so much pain making me feel every moment of how terribly I’d behaved as a daughter. I’d disappeared and left him to deal with the agony of his injuries that I’d caused. “I have to call my mom,” I said, pulling at Rafe’s hands to get him to release me.
He didn’t relent, holding me tight as his face twisted. “Mi reina,” he murmured, bringing one of my hands up to his face. He touched it to his cheek, twisting his lips to my wrist softly. “She was in the car.”
My body went still, my weight sagging as I fumbled for the words to say. “Then why isn’t she in the hospital?”
“Isa,” he murmured as I yanked my hand away from his face.
“No.” Shaking my head, I fumbled for the edge of the bed. I needed my phone. I needed to call, to hear her voice and know that he was being dramatic.
She couldn’t be….
“She’s gone,mi reina,” he murmured, wrapping arms around my waist and hauling me into his grip. His chest pressed tightly to my spine, his arms encasing me entirely as a strangled sob shook my entire frame.
“NO! You’re lying!” I yelled, shoving at his arms and forcing him to release me. I turned to face him, slamming a fist down on his chest. He took the hit, letting me follow it with another one, and another one after that.
“Isa,” he whispered, his voice drowned out by the sounds of my crying. By the strangled screams that didn’t seem human.
“She can’t be gone,” I whispered much later, my throat aching with the scalding tears that consumed me.
“I’m sorry,mi reina,” he said, drawing me into his arms as the fight finally receded. He held me until there was nothing left, until only the broken shell of my grief remained.