Page 82 of The Heart of a Villain

Being emotional right in this moment isn’t wise, but I can’t help it, and I don’t know how to stop this honesty pouring from me.

“I was that forgettable, Rafael? Not one single search party? Not one single boat?” I focus on the bird sitting on the tree branch, chirping before flying up high as lightning graces the sky. “Always and forever. That’s what we used to say.”

“I was nine and scared. William pulled me back when I wanted to swim after you that night.”

My brows furrow, and the air hitches in my lungs.

“Once we arrived at our destination, I begged them to go back and check on you. They wanted to, but then our father stopped us,” he sneers, and I don’t know what to say to that, although it hurts.

Even after all these years, the idea of a man who loved us all so unconditionally, then turning into a monster, hurts, and now to know he didn’t even bother trying to save me? Yeah, it can fuck up a person.

And just minutes ago, I contemplated having a kid?

I almost bark a laugh.

What do I know about being a good father?

I know the fucker magically survived the fire, so he took them all to Boston, where they lived together for a few years until he died when Lavender was around five.

That’s when Jade stepped up and took care of them, and Rafael started acting out.

“I’d still fight and try to go behind his back, and that’s when he hit me for the first time.” He walks around and stands beside me while I blink at him in shock. He fucking hit him? “Anyway, no matter how much I asked, Dad believed you died, and that was final.” A beat passes. “I knew he was wrong. I felt you were alive. Here.” He taps on his heart. “And I almost felt your pain. I didn’t care about him hitting me, but I worried. I worried so much there would be a day when I wouldn’t feel your presence.”

His explanation does little to soothe the inferno in my soul because to the little boy who still lives within me, this is not good enough.

But then, I’m starting to think nothing ever will be.

“He got worse after Mom died? Did he… touch Lavender?” There was little information about their lives together. He kept them homeschooled in some big-ass mansion.

Jade was the one who got them out and pressured them to be in high society. Lavender even thrived in dance and also dated a guy before setting herself on fire.

A thing that never made sense to me, since up until she turned eighteen, she lived a normal teenage life and hadn’t shown any odd behavior. Not to mention being so afraid of Jade because she’d mistake him for our father, which resulted in the fire.

“No. I mean, he’d scream and beat me in front of her, which made her terrified of him, but no, physically, he never did.” Our gazes clash. “You might think I’m an asshole who gives up on his twin, but I’m not a bad brother. Do you honestly believe I’d let him hurt her?”

“Yet you left her.”

He winces at the reminder. “If I tolerated Dad’s bullshit for the sake of Lavender, I had no patience for Jade’s. That asshole wanted to act worse than our father and practically demanded us to bow to him and be grateful for his presence.”

Yeah, that sounds like him.

“So rebellion? You wanted power?”

“The asshole acted weird toward Lavender. He’d watch her, read bedtime stories to her when she said no, and always wanted to know everything about her.” I freeze at this, revulsion rushing through me at the implication in his tone because I’ve met enough despicable creatures to recognize where he’s heading. “I’d argue with him and stay in her room, which wouldn’t make him happy. Due to lack of sleep, I was failing school too, and he threatened to send me away.”

Thunder echoes in the sky, and we both look up before I lean back on the car while he faces me, the wind billowing his hair backward. “I couldn’t trust him, even though he never tried to touch her. At least she confirmed that much.”

My lungs relax a little at this admission because if I found out Jade raped her, I don’t know what I would do.

Although this explains her wild outburst in his presence.

“When I turned fourteen, he got better. She’d lock herself in a room, and even attended all the social activities. He agreed to whatever she wanted, as long as she smiled.” I frown at such an abrupt change in Uncle’s behavior. “I couldn’t take any of his bullshit anymore, though, and we got into another huge fight, where I hurled a vase at him.” He laughs. “The highlight of my childhood, honestly. He told me he’d call the cops and I’d be sent to prison. I got scared and ran.”

All their stories don’t correlate with one another’s, and it sounds as if he gives me bullet points of his story rather than explaining anything of importance.

“Where did you go?”

“I was on the streets.” Steel coats his voice, leaving absolutely no room for questions. What the fuck happened to him on said streets? “Anyway, life was about survival until a black car pulled up a year later and a blond man got out of it.”

---