Page 42 of Raphael (Belles & Mobsters 5)

Gabriel went to read his comics with a smile still on his face. And the whole time I could feel Raphael’s eyes on me. Burning me. Studying me.

I studiously ignored him, keeping my eyes on Gabriel. There was something about this man that rattled me on a fundamental level. It scared me more than his clear declaration of diablo tattooed on his hand, more than that ruthlessness he carried like a second skin, and more than the darkness that surrounded him.

I should detest him. I should hate him with every fiber of my being. Yet, I couldn’t deny he just saved Gabriel and me. He might be a vicious criminal, but he’d already proven to do more for my son than my parents ever had.

The thick silence grew deafening, a palpable tension filling the air. I could almost feel it touching my skin. Trust was a fragile thing and after my own parents betrayed a little girl’s trust, over and over again, I found myself doubting everyone.

I loved my friends, they had proven their loyalty and love over and over again. Yet, I could never muster strength to share the shameful secrets of our family.

Although they might have gotten an inclination that everything wasn’t rosy in our household that day at the hospital.

The last day I got to hug my sister.

My eyelids grew heavier, fatigue slowly settling in my bones.

My phone rang as Aurora, Willow, and I rushed through the bitter cold. We were late to our class. The wind howled, freezing the tips of my ears. I wasn’t fond of the cold, despite people that thought my hair was appropriate for a winter setting.

I ignored it. I had my last final to take and then I’d answer all calls.

It rang again.

I stopped and dug through my cross shoulder book bag.

“Come on, Sailor,” Willow complained. “We’re going to be late and Professor Asshole will lock the door on us.”

I glanced at the caller ID then raised my eyes. “You two go,” I told Aurora and Willow. “I’ll be right behind you.”

“Are you sure?” Aurora asked. She hated leaving anyone behind. It was the result of what had happened with her brother.

“Yes,” I assured her. “I’ll be right behind you.”

And still she didn’t move. Not until Willow tugged on her arm and dragged her along.

I answered the phone. “Anya, is everything okay?”

“Sail, I think-” Panic in her voice shot an alarm through me. Did Father hurt her? “I think I’m in labor.”

“What?” I rasped, confused. She wasn’t supposed to have a baby for another month.

“I don’t know,” she cried. Anya never cried. Even when Father hurt her, she didn’t cry. I hadn’t even realized I was out of the building, my steps rushing across the parking lot of the campus.

“Where are you?” I asked her. “I’ll come and get you.”

“What about your exam?”

“Forget my exam,” I uttered. “Where are you?”

“At- at work.” I could hear pain in her voice. “The coffee shop. My boss won’t like it if I leave.”

“Fuck your boss,” I spat out, my teeth chattering from the cold. “Have your stuff ready. I’m coming to get you.”

The next few hours were a blur. I couldn’t remember how I got to Anya nor how we made it to the hospital. The blood stain on her white maternity dress grew by the second. There was so much blood.

“Please Anya,” I whispered as I helped her out of the car. “Please don’t die.” She didn’t offer her usual assurance. “Lean on me,” I told her.

The scent of blood overwhelmed my senses. Each drum of the heartbeat buzzed in my ears. In rhythm with the fear that grew by the second.

“Help,” I yelled out, holding on to Anya’s form that slumped more and more with each step. She could barely walk. Her weight became mine and I tightened my hold. “I got you, Anya.”

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