He nods seriously, making me wonder if he has spent too much time with Esther, too. "Yes. A safe word, one that you say when things get too much and you want me to take you home."
Home.
I wonder if he has any idea that the word has never meant anything to me until now. Until he just said it.Home. That house in the Catskills is our home—his and mine.
"Catskills," I say without having to think about it.
His head turns, and his smile does things to me I haven't thought possible in so long. It warms my stomach and fills my heart with a heat that makes it feel like it's expanding. I look into his eyes, and I see it right there. His love for me. It's not like it's depicted in the books or movies. No, this love is feral. I see the scars on his face and know he'd do anything for me. Anything. Raffael is a predator, one of a kind. But he's chosen me for a mate for whatever reason, and I see the promise in his eyes that he'd do whatever it takes to keep me safe. He'd swallow a grenade for me, I know he would. The sudden feeling blooming in my chest expands; it’s overwhelming. But I'm not ready to say itout loud.
"Catskills it is," he nods, turning his attention back to the road without a trace of disappointment on his face. He must know that for a moment, I was right on the brink of saying the words he's been whispering to me every night.I love you. But he doesn't push. He never does. At least not me.
Raffael is so much more of a man than Roberto could have ever been, and he proves it with every moment we spent together. He opens the door to the old truck even though nobody is looking or expecting it in this neighborhood. Now I see why he chose this particular vehicle. It fits with the surroundings. This neighborhood is neither rich nor poor. It looks like it has seen better days, and it might see worse here in a few years. Right now, it's teetering right at the brink where neighbors mind their own business but are still there for each other—the perfect place for a shelter.
The building where Raf parks the car must have been a sort of clubhouse at one time. Maybe a community center. There is a pool and even a mini golf course, and the building itself seems big enough to house several people.
The small door by the fenced-in yard squeaks when Raf pulls it open for me. The grass doesn’t look like it has been recently cut; weeds are sprouting in several places, crying out for regular landscaping. So are the rose bushes by the side of the building. Several wooden steps lead up to a crooked veranda that wraps the entire perimeter.Without knocking, Raf opens the front door via a digital print reader. I look closer, seeing the security that doesn't match the rundown feeling of the place. Several cameras are strategically placed, probably encompassing the entire structure. The door opens with a click. The peeling paint is only a diversion from the thick metal it's made from.
Voices drift toward me from inside. I hear the laughter of children, and my hand moves to my chest. I love children. Always have. I've always wanted a dozen kids of my own, but not with Roberto. I sneak a sideways glance at Raffael. The possibility of having kids with him strikes me hard. How would he be as a dad? That question alone shows me that I don't know as much about Raf as I should.
"Oh, now that's a surprise," Lexy comes out of a doorway, followed by a burly man in jeans and a shirt. A gun is tucked into his waistband.
I step out of Raffael's space and surprise myself and Lexy by folding her into my arms. "I missed you."
She's probably not the hugging type, because she stiffens, but I can't help myself. The girls and I would always hug each other, mostly to make up for the lack of attention our mothers gave us. Well, at least Cammie, Gigi, and I after our mothers died. Izzy's mom, Eliza, has hugs enough for all of us.
"Oh, okay… okay…" Lexy squirms. I grin and let her go. I would have been more mindful of her personal space hadI thought that she might have been a victim of abuse, too, but I can't imagine that being the case.
"Soph just wanted to see the shelter," Raffael fills Lexy in.
"And you," I add with a smile.
In the truck,I felt it, something was warring inside her, words were stacking up inside her beautiful head, one on top of the other, crowding her throat. She rolled the window down two inches, like air could make room for them. She traced the seam of the seat, thumb worrying the fabric; she swallowed once, twice.
She didn’t say them.
That’s okay. I can wait. I’ve watched her learn to breathe again. I can wait for the rest. I’ve waited my whole life for something worth waiting for.
Now she moves through the shelter like she belongs here, and every part of me goes quiet as I watch her. Gunner, the man in charge of security here, has it all under control. Still, when my eyes are not busy watching Sophia, I automatically check the security cameras, discreetly placed. Approvingly, I watch Gunner move akid from the exit door towards the middle of the room. We can't have her block that exit.
"How has she been? Is Esther helping her?" Lexy asks.
I watch Sophia approach the old piano.
"She's been a lot better." I know Lexy cares about Sophia, but now that I've gotten to know therealSophia better and my feelings for her have multiplied to a level I'm not willing to fully admit yet, it feels wrong. I can't—I won't divulge more than that.
The piano has been decorated by countless hands with stickers and paint. Funny how I never noticed before how long Sophia's fingers are, but I note them now, as they move gently over the ebony and ivory keys, eliciting a small crescendo of sound. Her fingers hover, contemplatively, then settle. Her expression turns wistful as she takes a seat on an old office chair someone has rolled in front of it. The first notes bloom and the room… tilts. Conversations drop mid-word. A kid in a superhero shirt folds himself down cross-legged. Another kid tucks her face into her mother’s neck and peeks out, brave in inches.
I don’t know this piece. I don’t know classical music. I grew up on bass you feel in your ribs and guitars that sound like fists. But whatever she’s playing threads through me like it knows the map of my scar tissue. It finds the places I keep locked and knocks: I see you. Live anyway.
A little girl inches closer until she’s at Sophia’s feet. Sophia opens her eyes, without missing a beat, and smiles, softly, right from the center. The kid sits like she just got front-row seats to a miracle.
I feel something come loose inside my chest, like a knot I forgot I tied. The way the kid looks at Sophia rattles something deep inside me. I've never thought much about kids. I've been too busy building this empire, but if not for kids or Sophia, then what for? A sudden ache, a yearning so deep it feels like a knife twisting in my heart, makes me realize what I want, what I want above all else. I want Sophia. I want kids with her—a family. And I want to be able to protect them from the world and everything that's wrong with it.
The last chord settles, and it reverberates like an echo in my soul. No one breathes. Then the kid whispers, “Can you teach me?”
Sophia’s smile widens. “I’d like that.”
Lexy leans in the doorframe, trying not to grin. “You didn’t tell me she was a weapon, too.”
