Mattie:He's a total asshole too. And apparently I like that.
My eyes flicked up to Rafe, who was talking to his mom, the two of their heads close together, looking serious. They both turned at the same time, then, and met my gaze. I had a sneaking suspicion that whatever they'd been saying, my name had come up.
Girl, same.I typed quickly to Mattie.As much as I wish I didn't.
After promising to find her as soon as I got back to the academy, I went up to Rafe's room to pack the clothing Jax had insisted I take with me. Adding that to what was in my closet at the academy, I'd never been so well dressed in my life.
"You ready, Cinderella?" Rafe said, entering the room in slow, sure strides. "Plane is waiting for us."
I ignored him.
He'd heard me last time when I’d said that I was done until he started treating me the way I deserved to be treated. I hadn't done anything to him. This was not my fault. I was going to keep repeating that every single time I felt self-doubt creep in.
Zipping up the small, black overnight bag, I slung it over my shoulder and turned to march from the room. Rafe, with that unreadable expression he did so well, had almost let me pass before his hand shot out and he wrapped those long fingers around my forearm.
"I know what you're doing," he murmured.
I shook my head, the sadness I felt streaming to the surface. "You have no idea," I told him. "I don't play games when it comes to my heart, and Uriel appearing like that again was the biggest reminder of all that I will never let someone debase me again, even if I love them."
Shock spread across his face, blue eyes wide as they stared at me. I was almost certain I'd never seen Rafe speechless before. Not like this.
"See you on the plane," I said, pulling my arm free and marching from the room.
He caught up to me in seconds and, before I could do anything, grabbed the straps of my bag and lifted it up off my arm. "I don't need your help," I snapped. "Stop touching me without my permission."
"Vi," he said, and his tone ground me to a halt. "I need to do something right now or..."
He trailed off, but I knew what those unspoken words would be. He had to do something, or he was going to lose his shit. See, that was the part that hurt the worst. Rafe and I got each other on a level I wasn't sure anyone else ever would. In some ways, I understood exactly why he'd been pushing me away since we got back, or even before that. He'd gone into soldier mode at the compound for the extremists, and he hadn't been able to pull himself out of it since. Soldier mode didn't allow for softer feelings. It didn't allow for love or happiness or joy. You had one fucking job and you did it.
"Never speak to me like shit again," I warned him, releasing my hold on the bag. "I'm not your punching bag when you're angry."
I didn't wait around for his answer, spinning on my heel to hurry off toward the front of the house. The car would be waiting there.
Rafe remained with me, my silent shadow. I legitimately had no idea if anything was fixed or not between us, but it was the start of something. Probably next time we'd sort the rest out with fists and weapons, and part of me really looked forward to that.
Jacinta and Felipe were the only ones to wave us off, giving each of us a tight hug. Jordan winced a little, and Felipe chuckled. "Sorry about that, son. The nurse told us you were all clear to return, but these things take time, I know."
"Totally fine," Jordan said. "It's just a dull ache now. I'm good as new."
He wasn't. The bruises had faded to a nice shade of yellow and green, his cuts scabbed over, and the scrapes were barely visible. He looked like someone who had been in a pretty serious car accident, but there was no doubt he was healing up. And that was all that mattered.
A single car waited out the front, already running, and one of the security hurried over to open the doors for us. Rafe took the driver's side, and I was about to get into the back seat when he shot me a look. It wasn’t as growly as usual, but it was the same sort of look he'd given me when he’d wanted to take my bag.
For fuck's sake. We had to work on this boy's communication skills. And his caveman possessiveness.
When I slid into the front seat, I noticed that he actually half-smiled as he shifted his seat into place. Yeah, me doing what he wanted made him happy, and it looked like he was learning that honey worked better than vinegar when it came to me compromising.
Once our bags were in the car and Jordan in the back seat, we all waved to the king and queen of the Switzerlands, and then Rafe drove off of his estate. The path was familiar—we had taken it not long ago when we'd visited before the dance. The dance that had changed everything.
"Feels like a lifetime ago that we last made this journey." I sighed, looking out the window. "Can't believe it was only a month."
Jordan leaned forward, his hand landing on my shoulder. Rafe's chest did a rumbly thing while his mouth made an annoyed sound. Jordan and I exchanged a glance before we turned to the broody one of the group. "Rafe is having trouble remembering his manners," Jordan said, kissing me on the cheek. "He might need the same wake-up call you gave me."
I snorted. "If you think I'm going to cry in front of that bastard so he can mock me for my weakness, you're insane, America. Rafe gets no more ammunition to use against me."
The prickly prince growled again. "I'm right fucking here; no need to talk about me like I'm not."
“When you act like this, I kinda wish you weren’t here,” I said. It was the truth, even if it was a little mean.
