Page 93 of Monsters Wear Crowns
I smirked against his chest. “Well... you kind of did.”
He looked smug. “Exactly. Now hush and let me spoil you.”
Chapter 18
By the time we stepped outside, a thunderstorm had rolled in, turning the roads slick and glistening beneath the downpour. Thunder cracked in the distance, and fat drops of rain splattered against the pavement in a steady rhythm. Rafe’s phone rang just as we reached the front porch, the low hum of it vibrating in his pocket.
The scent of rain hit me the moment we crossed the threshold–clean, earthy, nostalgic. It reminded me of simpler days, of summers barefoot in the grass and quiet mornings before life got so damn complicated.
I adjusted the strap of my purse, subtly checking that my gun was still tucked away where it belonged. My fingers brushed the cool metal as I absentmindedly listened to him speak.
I didn’t want to leave. Not tonight.
A part of me longed to stay inside, curled up with him on the couch, sharing a blanket and something mindless on the screen. Just...being. He felt like a real boyfriend today. Not a kingpin. Not a killer. Just Rafe. Present. Warm.Mine.
And I didn’t want that version of him to disappear.
The sharpness in Rafe’s voice snapped me back from my thoughts. I peered at him, but he refused to look at me. His stony gaze was set on the rain in front of us.
“What do you mean, Vince?” he asked, his voice full of authority. “Has anything been compromised? Okay, good. Losinghim is something that can’t fucking happen.”
I flinched, watching Rafael deliver the car for us. He ran from Rafe’s to another one, where several other men joined him. Out of all of his men, I only really knew two of them. My mind was too preoccupied to exchange pleasantries.
“We’re on our way,” he muttered before hanging up.
“Everything alright?” I asked, raising a brow.
He nodded. “Sinclair Solutions is fine, but I’m dealing with a difficult client.” He opened the car door for me before sliding in on his side. “They’re trying to organize another shipment, but I told him I can’t do that right now. He’d livid.”
“Oh,” I chewed my lip. “What industry?”
He ran his fingers through his damp hair and started the car. “Drug.”
“Oh,” I said again. “Hopefully this war with Moreau ends soon. He needs to know that I wouldn’t ever turn on you.”
“About that,” Rafe started, pulling out of the driveway. “We need to talk about that.”
***
I couldn’t contain my amazement when we pulled down a dirt road that weaved through hundreds of apple trees. It trulywasan orchard.
“This place is beautiful,” I whispered, admiring the rolling hills and the vivid greenery. The sun was just setting, pouring its golden light over the land.
“It’s a special place to me,” he said quietly, his icy gaze taking it all in. “I used to come here a lot as a kid. While my dad handled whatever shady business he was doing, I picked apples with my mom.”
I glanced at him. “What happened to your mother? We know both my parents are dead; your father is dead; what about her?”
He clenched the steering wheel tighter. “She is also dead.”
I paused at the way he said it. Like a piece of his soul was missing. “How?”
He hesitated. “Car accident. It was snowing, and...she lost control. Her car went off a bridge. I was sixteen.”
My throat tightened. “I’m sorry. My mother was murdered by one of my father’s enemies when I was seventeen. Then my father had a heart attack and died when I was twenty.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw, and I wondered if he hated talking about his parents. “My father was also murdered. I was twenty-one. Bad deal gone wrong.”
I swallowed hard, realizing just how alike we were. That was the name of the game being in the business we were in. It made me wonder if him or I would suffer the same fate. His phone suddenly rang again, the sound extra loud in the silence.
