ng back the blanket and getting off the bed. “Tell him you’re shopping. Tell him you’re at the bookstore. Ask where he is.”
“I don’t like this,” I tell Sin, shaking my head. “I don’t know if I can do this. Why don’t I just pretend I ran away again? I can say I’m going home, but I’ll stay here. When the dust settles tomorrow—”
“We won’t make it to tomorrow, because Rafe is not a moron, and he’ll show up on my damn doorstep twenty minutes from now. Nobody wants that.” Pulling up his pants, he turns back and shoots me a stern look. “Keep it together. You’ve got this.”
I do not have this. He is super wrong. Swallowing down my nerves, I look down at my phone and try to remember how to type words.
I send him, “Bookstore. Where are you?”
He types back right away. “Came home for dinner. When did you leave?”
Instead of answering that, as my stomach knots up, I tell him, “I’m hungry too. Want to meet for food? I brought an Uber here, but I could walk over to that Italian restaurant we saw last time we were here. Remember? I told you I’d never been there. It’s not a long walk and I could go for some pasta.”
“We can go out,” he sends back. “I don’t want to go there though, we’ll go to my restaurant. I’ll pick you up.”
My head snaps up. “Rafe is going to pick me up from the bookstore. How far are we from the bookstore? Dammit, I don’t like lying.”
“One day,” Sin promises. “I don’t like it either, but it’s one day. Is he at his house? I can get you to the bookstore before he gets there. Get your clothes on, we have to leave now.”
38
Laurel
My fingers tremble as I flip open a brand new copy of Jane Eyre, moving slowly down the aisle as I wait to hear from Rafe. Sin just dropped me off after spending literally the whole ride here telling me over and over again that I cannot fuck this up, and I cannot try to help, and I cannot interfere in any way, because there will be hell to pay if I do.
I really want to interfere. It’s extremely difficult not to. I’m not confident the men are handling this situation well, but Sin assures me I do not know the whole situation and I need to keep my nose out of it.
So, I’m burying my nose in this book and hoping against hope that Rafe isn’t suspicious when he gets here. My stomach is already rioting with nerves, my brain is castigating me. Basically, I can’t take much more right now. I didn’t feel badly about sneaking off with Sin until Rafe texted me, then all of a sudden I felt like I’d done something wrong. The simplistic part of my conscience was like, “Listen, you need to dump Rafe. I know you aren’t technically dating, but you’re now actively sexually involved with someone else, and the right thing to do is let Rafe know you guys are never gonna happen.”
Meanwhile Sin was like, “Don’t you fucking dare. This will all be over tomorrow anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”
Sin makes more sense. I don’t know why I’m worried about doing the “right thing” when Rafe may be in actual mortal danger. But I can’t warn Rafe, because that puts Sin in actual mortal danger.
Caring about two dangerous, homicidal men totally sucks.
“Didn’t I buy you that book already?”
My stomach drops at the sound of Rafe’s voice. I look up and see him heading up the aisle toward me. I nod my head. “You did. I love this book. Listen to this.”
He moves closer and peers at the page as I read.
“‘If all the world hated you, and believed you wicked, while your own conscience approved you, and absolved you from guilt, you would not be without friends.”
Rafe reads from the page, “‘If others don’t love me, I would rather die than live.’” Cocking an eyebrow, he meets my gaze. “Someone is rather dramatic.”
I smile, closing the book. “You wouldn’t die without the love and admiration of others?”
“Certainly not. Their bad taste isn’t my problem.”
My happiness dies a swift death as my thoughts drift away from this aisle in the bookstore, away from Jane Eyre, and toward tomorrow, and whatever darkness that’s going to bring. I know Sin told me not to interfere, but dammit, I want to so badly. I want to talk to Rafe. I want to reason with him. I want a future where we can bring our baby to the bookstore together and get ice cream, and then afterward, I can go home to Sin and we’re all happy. I don’t understand why we can’t have that. It’s so doable.
“What about you?” he asks casually, shoving his hands into his pockets. “If everyone hated you and believed you to be wicked, how would you feel?”
“I imagine it would depend whether or not they’re right. It’s hard to be happy if your happiness comes at the expense of someone else.”
Rafe smiles, like that answer pleases him. “Only if you’re a good person, kitten.”
“Can you be happy if your happiness comes at the expense of others?” I ask him.