34
Isa
Ipicked at the remnants of our late dinner, exhaustion creeping in from the emotional high earlier in the day. My mother’s confession weighed heavily on my shoulders, and so did the hesitant step we’d taken toward finding a new normal. I hoped with the entire truth out in the open, perhaps we could find a way to form a new relationship that was built on truly understanding one another for the first time.
I didn’t have to force myself into the mold she created for me, and she no longer had to pretend to be something she wasn’t. We could justbe.
The survivor’s guilt would be what haunted me. The knowledge that I’d somehow played a role in the destruction of other people’s lives, all because I’d still breathed when my mother pulled me out of the river.
Rafe finished his food, moving to rinse his plate and deposit it in the dishwasher. He turned, leaning his ass on the counter and gripping the edge in the way that drove me crazy. The muscles of his forearms stood out in stark relief as he flexed to hold the counter, and my stare caught on them.
The bastard smirked as if he knew exactly what those forearms did to me. He opened his mouth to speak, as if he might taunt me with the promise of what would come later in the night. He cut off abruptly when Joaquin sauntered into the room, his expression tight as he turned to me. “Odina is at the gate and demanding entrance. Should I phone your mother to come get her waywardchild?” he asked, emphasizing the last word to show his distaste for my sister.
In the days since we’d returned to Chicago, I’d realized just how far apart Odina and I were. For being born only minutes apart, the chasm between us felt enormous once I finally saw her for what she’d allowed herself to become in an effort to deal with her trauma.
Spoiled. Entitled.
The word choice was intentional, reducing Odina to the choices she’d made and the fact that she seemed unable to act responsibly. I sighed, glancing at the time on the stove.
I’d spent so long waiting for Rafe to return home from his torture session that it was already past ten at night. I already missed having Regina to tend to the meals, and then immediately felt guilty for such a thing.
It wasn’t like I lived a particularly busy life while we were in Chicago. I could cook meals.
“Just let her in and call my parents to come get her. We can’t exactly leave her at the gate throwing a tantrum,” I sighed, rubbing my temples between my fingers. I could already imagine the nightmare she’d given the guards, her shrieking and entitled behavior something I’d dealt with far too often.
Joaquin nodded his agreement after a shared look with Rafe, confirming that the choice was one he agreed with. “I think it’s best you make yourself scarce,” I said, wincing at the glare Rafe leveled me with. “Don’t look at me that way. You rejected her, and she’ll see that as being solely my fault. Having you in her face is only going to antagonize her further. I’d like to survive the time it takes for my mom or dad to come get her in relative peace.”
“Since when do I care what hurts Odina?” he asked, tilting his head thoughtfully. As if he truly needed to consider it to decide if there’d ever been a time when he might have. I suspected the answer was no, but perhaps there had been a moment before discovering how terrible she was to me that he valued her life in relation to mine.
It was likely short lived.
“You don’t,” I murmured, standing from my seat and moving into his arms. I wrapped mine around his back, holding him to me firmly as he looked down at me with an unimpressed expression. “But you care about what hurts me. I just want to get through whatever she wants until my parents come to get her. That’s all.”
“Fine,” he said, leaning down to kiss me. “Joaquin stays with you. I don’t trust that little snake in the slightest, and if someone doesn’t come get her soon, I’ll kick her to the curb. I don’t want her upsetting you, and you need to sleep.”
“I’m pregnant, not a child,” I reprimanded with a scowl. “I’ll go to bed when I’m good and ready.”
Rafe smirked, shaking his head before kissing my forehead and rubbing my stomach briefly before prying himself away from me. He went down the hallway toward his office, leaving me standing and watching the subtle sway of his hips as he moved.
Ifthiswas any indication of what pregnancy hormones could be, I’d be a Rafe addict by the time the baby was born.
Joaquin moved toward the front door, his shoulders sagging and head dropping forward as he muttered to himself and disappeared into the foyer. The sound of Odina’s brutal knocking echoed through the house, making me wince with every loud blow. Even aside from the obvious fact that we knew she was here, because of the armed guards surrounding the property, what did impatient people have against doorbells?
I watched through the open doorway to the foyer as Joaquin heaved the heavy front door open. Odina shoved through the space he created dramatically, her shrill voice echoing through the house as she sang. “Isa! Oh, Isaaaa.” I winced, knowing the only time Odina sang was when she’d been drinking.
She stumbled into the main area, her face flushed from the alcohol she’d consumed. “For fuck’s sake, Odina. Did youdrivehere?” I asked, watching as she moved for the living room and stumbled over her own feet when she tried to pivot and drop onto the couch.
She nearly missed, her eyes widening sluggishly as she barely caught herself on the very edge and pulled herself back onto the cushions.
“Yes,Mom,” she groaned, dropping her head back as she sank into the couch. “How’d you get to be such a buzzkill?”
“Someone had to be,” I said, moving to the fridge in the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of water. Joaquin walked past the room, moving through the parts of the house that enabled him as if he needed to check all corners. His anxiety nearly set me on edge, but he’d been paranoid about security checks after the bombing.
Who could blame him after that really?
Holding the bottle to Odina’s lips and tipping her head back enough not to spill, I poured water into her mouth slowly. “Your father is on his way,” Joaquin said, taking up his place over in the breakfast nook of the main space to keep an eye on us from a distance.
“Mom hasn’t been the same since she came here,” Odina said, her voice surprisingly clear despite her obvious drunkenness. “What did you say to her? Poor little Isa isalwaysthe victim.”