Page 41 of Carved in Ruin

“That’s not news.”

“Don’t touch him, Rafael!”

I slam the brakes, jerking the car to a stop on the side of the road. My hands itch to spank her ass. “Don’t take a cent from him, don’t work for him, and I won’t hurt him,” I order.

“Fine! I won’t. But don’t you dare touch him,” she snaps back, her eyes wild, brimming with frustration and something else—fear. Her concern for him is maddening, clawing at something primal in me.

“Promise me, Rafael,” she demands.

I don’t answer.

“Promise me!” she screams, her restrained fists slamming against her thighs.

“If you do as I say, you have nothing to worry about.”

Her shoulders sag and she leans back into the seat. She glares at the passing cars. “Just so you know, I’m absolutely going to take revenge on you with this card,” she mutters.

I shrug, indifferent. “Buy an island for all I care.”

The thought of her depending on someone else—needingsomeone else— it’s a raw, aching burn, as if she’s peeling the skin off me, layer by layer. She should needme. Only me. The mere idea of her looking for refuge in someone else’s hands, it eats at me in ways I can’t even describe. I should be the one she turns to, the one she breathes for, the one she breaks for. She shouldn’t rely on anyone but me.Iam the one who owns her. No one else gets that from her. Nothim. Not anyone else.

I lean toward her slowly, my eyes never leaving hers. I can feel the heat radiating off her skin, feel her pulse quicken. My breath is warm against her neck, and I hear her inhale sharply, a soft tremble in her body that makes something inside me tighten. She tries to back away, but there’s nowhere for her to go. “What are you doing?” she asks, as if she doesn’t even recognize the man in front of her. He doesn’t recognize himself either.

My lips press against her neck in a soft kiss, brushing her now short locks off her shoulder. I bite, lick, and suck on her skin. I leave hickeys all over the column of her neck. This should showElliot, and any other fucker that thinks she isn’t claimed.

“Stop it. Just stop. You’re getting married by the end of the week. You’re going to become my brother in law. This isn’t right, Rafael, and you know it. Please, just stop.” She begs.

That’s the problem. There is nothing more I want than to stop wanting her, needing her, craving her… But I can’t. It goes against every cell in my body. I can’t stop.

Twenty

Destruction Incarnate

Mila

Istare at my reflection in the mirror, my breath catching at the red marks marring my neck. My fingers tremble as I trace one of them, heat rushing to my cheeks. Anger flares in my chest—at him, for thinking he still has a right to touch me.

I grab my concealer from the makeup bag. I’m hiding them, because I’m still fragile, but at some point I will have to tell Layla. Before I can even unscrew the cap, the door flies open, and she bursts in.

“What’s wrong?” Layla’s eyes narrow.

“Nothing,” I lie, backing away a step. The guilt is immediate. I know I’m a terrible liar. I know Layla sees right through me. And still, I try. “I’m fine.”

Layla moves closer. “Take your hands off your neck.”

I freeze. My pulse pounds in my ears. Slowly, I let my hands drop. I can’t look at Layla as she zeroes in on the hickeys.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Her voice wavers, but the fury simmering beneath it is unmistakable.

“Yes,” I whisper, barely audible. “I’m so sorry, Layla. I tried to stop him—”

“Stop him?” She yells as she spins around, clutching her hair in both hands. “How could you let this happen, Mila? How could you?”

“I didn’t want this! I didn’t—” I stumble over my words. Tears sting my eyes as I realize I’m yet again about to lose one of the most important people in my life. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Please—”

“Sorry?” Layla cuts me off. “You’re sorry? God, Mila, do you even hear yourself? You don’t even know him! You’ve met him a handful of times, and now this?”

Confusion breaks through my shame. “What? Layla, that’s not—”

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