"Okay." Her voice breaks, and I hear her take a shaky breath. "Okay. I love you."
"I love you too."
I hang up the phone before she can say anything else, and my hands are shaking so badly, I almost drop the receiver. I set it back in the cradle and stand there staring at it, my pulse roaring in my ears.
My heart is so heavy knowing how badly my family has been suffering and I want to speak to my parents too, but I don’t think a phone call is what they need. Besides, I can't stomach the questions right now. I want Rafe with me when I have to face that again.
And the authorities are probably tracing that call as we speak. Rafe will be furious about it, but I just had to hear her voice. I had to. My heart can't take it anymore.
I press my hands to my face and try to force myself to breathe normally. The panic is rising in my chest, making it hard to think, and I can feel tears burning trails down my cheeks. It's a strange mixture of comfort and pain, fear and relief.
The front door opens, and I spin around to see Rafe walking into the living room, brushing snow off his coat, and when he looks up and sees my face, he stops in his tracks.
"What happened?" he asks.
I can't lie to him. I've never been good at lying, and I'm especially bad at lying to him.
"I called my sister." I rush the words out as I walk toward him, hoping for a hug.
His expression goes completely blank. "You did what?"
"I used the phone. I called Lila. I couldn't wait anymore, Rafe. I had to tell her I was okay."
He doesn't say anything for a long moment. He just stands there looking at me, and I can see the wheels turning in his head as he processes what I just told him. A range of emotions flashes across his face, anger, fear, and resolve. Then he sets his keys on the table and walks past me into the office where the laptop is still sitting on the desk.
"What are you doing?" I follow him into the room with stutter steps and a racing pulse.
He picks up the pot of coffee from the warming plate, which I left in case he'd like a cup when he got home, and he pours the cold coffee over the keyboard. The liquid seeps into the keys, drips onto the desk, pools around the base of the screen as it sparksand pops, and the screen goes dark. He sets the empty pot down and wipes his hands on his jeans.
"Oh my god! Are you insane?" I ask, stepping back as the dark liquid runs down the front of the too-clean counter and pools on the floor.
"I'm making sure there's no record of your accessing anything from this location," he says. "If they trace the call back here, they'll find a fried laptop but no way to track anything off its hard drive now. It's shorted out."
A million thoughts right through my head as he walks past me and moves into the bedroom, for God only knows what. And I follow him.
"Rafe, I'm so sorry. I didn't think. I just?—"
"I'll handle it," he says, cutting me off. His voice is calm, and it makes my panic worse.
"This is my fault. I shouldn't have?—"
"It's done, Riley." He grips me by both arms and looks me straight in the eye. "We can't undo it. So we deal with it and move forward."
"What if they trace the call? What if they're on their way here right now?"
I'm frantic now, petrified I won't be able to act normal and casually in love with him if they just show up here.
"It will be fine," he says, then he turns to the closet and starts pulling out wads of cash from the pockets of his clothing. I had no idea any of that was in there, and when I start seeing weapons emerge, I know something's off.
"Oh, my God," I mutter.
"It's alright. I have a plan, okay? You just help me carry this." Rafe starts handing me wads of cash, and I tremble. We're going to hide his stash somewhere because he's afraid the Feds are coming. And now I'm afraid the Feds are coming too.
What the fuck did I do?
26
RAFE
