Page 100 of Deceitful Oath

I see Rafael’s cheeks flame red, but he stays quiet, starting on my other leg. The soapy, warm massage feels so good that I barely notice that I’m spilling my traumatic memories.

“You did all the right things, Luxy,” he assures me. “Finding a weapon, locating a hiding place so quickly, staying quiet.Sometimes, even when you do everything right, the bad guy finds you.”

“I know,” I nod, pulling the tears back and willing myself to stay Zen. “I’ve never felt such anger and frustration before. And he was enjoying it! It felt like he was hunting me for sport.”

“Those kinds of men exist,” he agrees bleakly, avoiding my gaze. I know he’s referring to himself in that category, but I refuse to believe it. I can’t imagine Rafael doing what Vince did to me.

“But then we heard you breaking down the door,” I continue, resting my hands on my tiny bump. “And he dragged me there, stuck a gun in my hands, and told me to shoot you, or he’d shoot me.”

“That fucker,” Rafael whispers under his breath.

“He would have killed me either way, probably,” I say plainly, finishing my terrible tale.

“Definitely,” he agrees, sliding my leg back in the water. “Let me do your hair. Can you sit up a little?”

I do as he says, sitting up and circling my knees with my arms. He gently pours warm water down my hair while he strokes it, trying to get the knots out.

I relax under his hands, not fully believing that this is the same man who repeatedly plunged a knife into a man’s throat a few hours ago.

Seeing him in that way, the animalistic wild man they call The Wolf, terrified me. But it also made me realize that his love for me is what spurred him on. He killed a man for me. I shiver at the thought, not understanding how I feel about it.

All I know is, his gentle, light touch makes me feel more like myself than ever. He trails soft kisses over my forehead as he rinses the conditioner out and I feel like I’m finally home.

He is home. My home.

And I love him, regardless of his past.

But can I live with his future?

Chapter Forty-One

Rafael

Lux is falling apart at the seams. This right here, holding your lover together when she’s broken, is what makes a man.

It was never about being the toughest in the room, or the hardest. It’s not about who can shoot first or who’s got more money.

Power is rooted in softness, I realize in that moment. When the world is hard, how do you protect the most delicate things?With softness.It’s what my mother tried to show me my entire childhood, but somewhere along the way, I shoved those lessons aside.

I shampoo Lux’s hair, gently untying the knots and avoiding the tender wound at her temple. She sighs, relaxing into my touch, and my heart grows three sizes.

Seeing the serenity I can provide her, the trust she has in me, gives me a greater thrill than any shipment of weapons or shootout can.

Her lips part as I run a comb through her silky golden hair, the pink at the ends almost faded now. When she’s clean, I help her out of the tub and wrap a towel around her. She clutches it, her eyes dazed, as I dry her hair.

I sneak in a few soft kisses across her shoulders and she sighs happily.

She yelps when I scoop her up and carry her to the bedroom. The room is furnished true to its time period, with a large ornate bed in the center. I wrap her in a soft robe and she climbs under the blankets, snuggling into the fluffy pillows.

She looks so small and lost that my heart breaks for her.

I join her and pull her close to me, whispering comforting things about love, safety, and being all right. Her shoulders shake a few more times, the tears drying up slowly. When she’s done, she turns herself around to face me.

Soft cool fingers trail over my jaw, pausing at my lips. She strokes them reverently and closes her eyes. I kiss each fingertip as it lands on my lips, turning it into a little game. She giggles softly, and I pull her closer, surprising her with a real kiss.

Knowing that she’s going through the worst of the worst right now, reliving the memories, I keep it chaste. She glances at me, her eyes burning.

“Our kid is not going to believe what a badass his mom is,” I whisper softly, smiling down at her. She scoffs, shaking her head.

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