“Why’re you saying this?” Her voice cracks with the kind of skepticism from a lifetime of mental abuse. She’s untrusting of every person she knows, and I can’t blame her.
I drop my forehead to hers and close my eyes. “Because I care about you.”
I still don’t know how it happened, but it’s the truth, and I can’t hide from it another moment. I ache to kiss her, but I don’t trust myself to stop. It’s the last thing she needs right now.
When she doesn’t speak, I open my eyes and find her golden ones piercing mine.
“Can I take you inside? I’ll call McCrae to clean this up and you can get some rest?”
“But—” Her eyes flick to the lifeless form behind me.
I move into her line of sight. “You can tell us what happened when you’re ready. But I see the bruises, V. He deserved what he got. You’re so strong for protecting yourself.”
Tears skitter down her cheeks once more. “You see me as something I’m not sure I am.”
I wipe away a tear. “I’m sure enough for the both of us.”
Slowly, I stand, ignoring the ache of my back from sitting hunched on the ground so long. I extend a hand to her, and she hesitates briefly at the offering. “I’m not afraid of the blood on your hands, V. I’m not afraid of you or anything you’ve done. I’m in awe of you. Now, let me help you—not because you’re weak or need help, but because everyone deserves to have people take care of them sometimes.”
She bites her lip and then slides her fingers into mine.
Once inside, she quickly retreats to her room without so much as a single word, and I stare at her door until I hear the shower click on. Pulling out my phone, I dial McCrae, and he picks up almost instantly.
“What?” he growls. I ignore his sour attitude, far too focused on listening for sounds of distress from Valentina’s room.
“You need to get home.”
“What is it? I’m busy.”
“I got home, and Valentina was sitting in the driveway, hunched over a dead body.” There’s silence on the other end, and I’m instantly filled with anger—all this could have been prevented had McCrae listened to me. “You know that car you didn’t believe was here the other night? Yeah, it was that guy. He attacked Val?—”
“Is she okay?” he barks, and I can hear something rustling on the other end.
“No,” I snap back, leaning against the door frame. “She fucking killed someone, and she’s not okay. Not by a long shot.”
“Did he hurt her?”
“Him and every other man in her life,” I bite out, the implications heavy.
“Watch it. I’ve never laid a finger on her.”
“Exactly!” I shout, my frustration boiling over. “Even when she needed it, you refused to touch her, comfort her. You treat her like she’s a fragile doll whose only purpose is to remainperfect up on its shelf. She’s a person, McCrae, and she’s hurting. She’s been fucking hurting her entire life, and she just needs someone to show her she’s stronger than anyone’s given her credit for.”
“And that’s you?” His voice is borderline murderous.
I don’t answer him—it’s not him who deserves the answer anyways. Instead, I hang up and storm into Valentina’s room, the sounds of the shower hitting my ears as I take confident strides to the closed bathroom door.
Before I have a chance to lose the nerve, I swing it open, the words on the tip of my tongue, but I freeze. Valentina’s curled into a ball on the shower floor, still in her clothes, and my heart shatters at the sight. Without thinking, I open the shower door and step inside.
THIRTY-FIVE
RAFAEL SANTOS
November 30th, 2025
On autopilot,I sink to the floor next to her, the spray of the shower scalding, but I barely notice. Even through the steam and vicious spray, I see the tears burning across her perfect cheeks. They’re heavier and full of the kind of heartbreak I can’t even try to understand.
“Valentina?” I whisper her name, worried I’ll startle her. To my surprise, she reaches out, wrapping her slender fingers around my own.
