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“Fuck, Rafe!”
“Don’t be a pussy,” Rafael growls at him.
With a snarl, Carlos is up and punching Rafael in the face. They exchange blows so hard and fast I can barely keep up. My heart is hammering in my throat, my fingernails cutting into my palms as they release every inch of aggression they have on each other. Rafael always keeps the upper hand though, dominating with his sheer size. Thick muscles bunch and flex, sweat and blood blurring the lines of his tattoos into a collage of pure violence. And it’s here, when I see him like this, that I realize just how gentle he is with me. I’ve never seen this side of him, but I can tell it’s his natural state. Although a wolf can be tamed, it’s naturally wild and brutal. Rafael is a savage, a beast, and I’m trying to pet him through the bars of a cage.
I push away from the door and rush along the hallway, my heart sinking like an anchor in an endless ocean. Hopelessness creeps up on me, but I should be used to it. After all, it’s been my only constant, but I find I resent it now.
Lucas is already waiting for me outside, a satchel tossed over his shoulder and a bin bag in his hand. “You ready?”
I nod. I just want to lose myself in the deafening sound of a gun firing, the feel of the power in the palm of my hand. We go to the back of the house where there’s a small Eucalyptus grove. Lucas digs around in the bin bag and pulls out several beer bottles. He walks over to the low wall that surrounds the property and spaces the bottles out evenly.
“I don’t think I’m that good of a shot,” I say.
He hands me a pistol. “Not what I heard.”
I check the clip and then line up my shot before flicking off the safety. My mind empties and all my focus shifts to the short barrel of the gun, and the glass bottle in my eye line. Nothing else. I fire, and the smashing of glass as the bottle shatters permeates the satisfying bang of the gun.
Lucas snorts. “Not a good shot. Riiiight.”
“That might have just been lucky.”
He rolls his eyes and takes a shot, missing the first time, and hitting a bottle the second. We stay out here for hours. Until we’re all out of bullets and bottles.
We walk over to a little stone bench that sits in a corner of the grove. There’s a tiny patch of daisies between the bench and a large stone pot, almost as if the gardener missed that bit when he was weeding. I crouch down and pick a handful, placing them on the bench before I sit cross-legged on it and set about making a daisy chain. Lucas watches me intently, his brows furrowed together as though he’s completely confused. It’s childish and simple, but it’s something Una and I used to do when we were little girls. I’d forgotten it until now. She would braid my hair and tuck the little flowers into the plaits.
When I’m done, I place it on Lucas’ head like a little crown. He scowls at me, and I laugh. “You look so pretty.”
He rolls his eyes and picks up a single stray daisy off the bench in front of me. He reaches out and tucks it into my hair behind my ear. “So pretty,” he says, before blushing so hard, I’m sure all the blood has vacated his body.
I smile. “Thanks.”
We stay there, talking and laughing for what seems like hours. Lucas is so easy going. He couldn’t possibly be considered as any kind of threat. He’s just light-hearted and easy to be around in a way that I’ve never known before. He almost makes me feel normal. I could imagine in another life we’d be friends. We’d met for coffee and go to bars. Maybe we’d go to college together. I smile at the whimsical thought.
“Really, Lucas?” Rafael’s distinctive deep voice snaps me from my daydreaming. He’s looking at Lucas, one brow raised as he takes in his daisy chain crown. Lucas snatches it off his head, and I glare at Rafael.
“Leave him alone. I made it for him.”
Rafael’s lips twitch.
Lucas turns beet red. “I…uh, have to…go.” Standing up, he practically trips over himself to get away.
Rafael must have only just left the gym. How long was he in there? Hours? His vest is soaked through with sweat, a stark reminder of the pent-up aggression he just unleashed on Carlos. I hate that I’m driving him to that. Avoiding his gaze, I brace my hands against the edge of the bench and lean back, closing my eyes. The suns rays heat my skin, and the soft breeze stirs the strands of my hair.
