“You really shouldn’t drive, Valentina.”
“I haven’t even drank that much. You’re not my mom.”
“You could get hurt.”
“You could get hurt,” Valentina mimics Faith, her voice high pitched and whiny. Things are unraveling fast, and I don’t know why the overwhelming need to step in consumes me.
“I can drive you.”
I bite my tongue. What am I saying? I’ll drive her? The whole fucking point was for her to drive and fucking wreck her truck.I’ll drive her?
Marco would be disgusted.
Valentina slowly turns to look at me, her golden eyes filled with a dark fire, and I shiver beneath their intensity. “If I wanted your fucking help, I’d ask. Now, both of you, back the fuck off.”
Faith shakes her head, and despite feeling grateful to have dodged the bullet of my own stupidity, I feel the tiniest shred of hesitancy. Instead of acting on it—Marco’s hateful voice rattling in my head—I slap my card down on the bar. Both girls track the motion, and I slip the truck keys back into Valentina’s enormous designer bag.
Seeing the wealth she so blatantly flaunts, in a dive bar, of all places—designer heels, gold jewelry and a giant designer bag to match—I’m renewed in my disdain for her.
I’m doing the right thing.Valentina Reyes must be brought down.
We stand to leave, Faith watching Valentina like she’s contemplating tackling her, when a man approaches, his blond hair slicked back, face freshly shaven. His arm slides up the bar until he’s only inches behind Faith, and I watch her go from confused to downright furious.
Before I can intervene, she whirls on the man. “Get. Away.”
I watch on in surprise.Maybe Faith has some bite after all.The man looks stricken, tortured, hurting, and I can’t help but feel sorry for him.
“Faith, when are we going to talk?” he pleads, like no one else in the room exists.
She shakes her head, chuckling. “How about never?”
“Everything okay?” Valentina questions, eyeing the stranger.
“If I want to talk to you, I’ll find you.” Faith tries to walk past him, pushing his arm off the bar, but he remains frozen, his face growing frantic.
“You’ll have to talk to me eventually. You know you will. I’ve tried to be nice, I’ve tried to give you space and do it your way. But you’ll have to, like it or not.”
“Out. of. My. way.”
I should stay out of it, steer clear of whatever drama’s unfolding, but I can’t. I’ve always been a sucker for a damsel in distress, and something about this guy’s starting to send warning flags popping in my head.
“Hey, how about you do this another time?” I step around Valentina to stand shoulder to shoulder with Faith.
“I don’t need your help, Santos,” Faith hisses and then pins the man with another withering glare. “I’m no damsel, and you’d damn well better remember that, Nathan.”
FOURTEEN
RAFAEL SANTOS
September 20th, 2025
We drive farther downthe road, the dark ahead of us like an vast, black hole. My lights beam across Valentina’s tailgate, and I wait with bated breath for the red of her taillights to flash on.
They haven’t yet, and I get the overwhelming feeling she’s playing chicken with some invisible foe. She races ahead of me, and I watch in horror as she begins fading toward the left and then right, her tires threatening to fall off the road as she hits the edge and then corrects them, starting over again.
Is she really that drunk? Or does she truly think she’s just invincible?
Rage consumes me—she has no regard for anyone else, and here I was, feeling guilty for what I’ve done.I’m doing them all a fucking favor!
