Sweet Collateral

There’s no theatre room in this house, but there is a massive flat screen in the living room. Lucas wheels himself over to a bookcase and pulls out a DVD, handing it to me. “Just press that button.” He points to a button on the little machine on a shelf, and I follow his instruction, putting the disc inside. He wheels back over to the large corner couch. “I might need a hand.” I offer him my hand, and he takes it, hauling himself out of the chair and flopping down on the couch.

“So, uh, what happened to your hand?” The hoody I’m wearing covers the bandages on my arm, but there’s no hiding my hand. Just like that, my mood darkens, and even Lucas can’t keep my morbid feelings at bay.

“My sister cut my finger off,” I say coldly.

“That’s…”

“Fucked up? Yeah.” I tug my sleeve down over the bandage, not wanting the reminder.

“You have a missing finger, and I walk like a guy who’s drunk a bottle of tequila. What a pair we make.” A gawky grin covers his face and I instantly feel so guilty. I lost a finger. He lost his ability to walk properly. Three months in, and he’s still using a wheelchair. I’m horrible.

“I’m sorry.” I take his hand, and he threads his fingers through mine.

We sit, and I watch The Notebook for the first time ever. Lucas falls asleep about ten minutes in, and I smile as he slumps awkwardly against me. I end up putting a pillow on my lap and rearranging him until he looks comfortable. This movie is heartbreaking and beautiful, and by the end, I’m crying. I’m not sure if I’m sad or happy.

I’m just swiping away tears when a throat clears. I look up and find Rafael leaning against the doorframe, thick arms folded over his chest.

“The kid Notebooked you?” I sniff, and he shakes his head. “Trying to put the moves on my girl.”

I snort. “He didn’t even watch it. Passed out and snored the entire time.”

Rafael moves closer, glancing over the back of the couch at Lucas’ sleeping form. “Looks like he got a good spot.”

I tilt my head back against the couch cushions, looking up at him. “Are you jealous?”

He bends down until his lips press to mine. He kisses me slow and sweet. “Maybe.”

I quickly remember Lucas and a blush heats my cheeks. “Rafe.”

“Are you getting shy on me?” I shake my head, and he laughs. “You’re going to have to move sleeping beauty there. We’re going into Juarez.”

A tiny fissure of fear works through me at the thought of leaving the house.

“Why?”

“I have business.”

“Can’t I stay here?”

He releases a slow breath, his expression becoming pinched. “I don’t trust anyone else with you, avecita.” It’s only now that I see the toll the last few months have had on him. Rafael has always been so strong and fearless, but now he’s scared. For me.

“Okay.” I shift my weight, carefully sliding away and replacing my lap with a cushion. Rafe’s lips are pressed together in a tight line, his jaw ticking furiously.

“What’s wrong?” I place my hand on his chest and his heart beats erratically beneath my palm.

“Nothing.” He kisses my forehead. “Business stuff. Nothing for you to worry about.”

I snatch his hand. “Just tell me.”

“I’ve been absent from business dealings recently. That’s all. I have some things I have to handle that can’t wait.”

“Okay. I’ll come with you.” Truthfully, I don’t want to leave the villa, but as scared as I am of the outside world, I’m terrified of being anywhere without him.

“We’ll have double the usual men.”

“Rafe—”

“Juarez is very unstable right now.”

“Why? What happened?” He says nothing. “Rafael?”

He sighs and drags a hand over his stubble. “I traded you for the use of the port. When I allowed the Russian to use it, I had to rescind my deal with Ricardo.”

“Okay.”

“Ricardo isn’t happy. He and Dominges are now aligned.”

“Against you?”

“Yes. And it puts you at risk. You’re my one weak spot, avecita. They will aim for it if they can.” His eyes soften as he threads his fingers through my hair and pulls me close to his chest. I inhale the distinct scent of him, absorbing the heat of his body. Through all the stress and the fear, I always have this. I have him, and when he holds me like this, I feel as though nothing in the world could ever touch me. It’s such a false sense of security. After all, Rafael is just one man. One man, but my everything. And now he’s made enemies. For me. If anything were to happen to him…I’ve managed to come back from some of the worst atrocities imaginable, but to lose him; there would be no coming back from that.

I wind my arms around his wide back and fist his shirt in both hands. “I hate this.”