“What about my father?” she asks perceptively.
Damn it. She caught that. “I think it’s time you get some rest,” I say instead, moving towards the door. “Let the meds kick in and do their job.”
“Rafael—”
But I’m gone, leaving her question unanswered and my own demons clawing at my chest. I’m not running away. I just have other things to deal with right now—starting with the fuckers who put their hands on her tonight.
32
EMILIA
What did Rafael stop himself from saying? I feel like I was on the verge of finally uncovering the goddamn mystery surrounding my father’s death, and he just… stopped. Slammed the door shut right in my face.
I try to groan in frustration, but I’m too tired to even make the sound.
I’ve been fighting off the drugging wave of sleepiness for the past few minutes. It’s honestly a miracle I was able to follow any of that conversation with Rafael.Did I even follow it properly?My thoughts feel sluggish, disconnected.
Think. What just happened?
I tried not to, but I’m pretty sure I might have agreed to something I never would have if I were in my right mind. I should have insisted on having the conversation in the morning when my brain wasn’t swimming in whatever cocktail Jamie pumped into my veins, I should have?—
My mouth stretches into a huge yawn, eyes squeezing shut involuntarily. The medication is winning this battle.
I turn to my side, careful not to move my left hand where the IV line is. What was Rafael going to say? Did he witnesswhat actually happened to my dad? And more importantly—would I believe him if he told me the truth?
The truth.What a concept.
Back then, Stacey didn’t give me the details about how my dad died, and I figured it didn’t matter. All I cared about was who did it—Rafael. But now… I realize how wrong I was. I should have asked Stacey to tell me everything she saw.
Another yawn takes over, and suddenly I’m drowning in exhaustion.
Maybe I should…
Maybe I should… what?
I should…
I must have passed out, because when I open my eyes, sunlight filters in beneath the curtains, softening the brightness of the morning.
Someone,Rafael, has removed the IV from my vein and?—
I gasp softly, my gaze immediately drawn to a seated figure lurking in the dark corner of the room, watching me.
My heart gives a hard thud, but not from fear. I know that silhouette better than my own reflection.
“I was impressed to see how big our azalea has grown. You must have thought of me every time you watered and nurtured it.”
I don’t need to see Rafael to hear the smirk in his voice. I frown, not quite catching his meaning through the haze of sleep and medication. Moving carefully, I try to sit up, expecting the same excruciating pain from last night. Instead, there’s only a dull twinge of discomfort.
What kind of sorcery did Jamie pump into my veins?
As I shift position, my hand snags the sheet, and I feel an unfamiliar weight on my finger. I push the dark-colored fabric away and?—
Oh my God.
My gasp catches in my throat as I stare at the rock on my ring finger.
“What is this?” The words barely make it past my lips, which suddenly feel numb. I didn’t explicitly say yes to his proposal…did I?
