RafaelI stare at my swollen, bruised knuckles around Madeleine’s wrist. It was the first time in a while that I actually got my own hands dirty. I did it for her. And the landlord was just the first of many.After I broke his face, he finally told me the truth. It wasn’t Bruce who was behind the whole thing - the cops, their assault, Madeleine’s eviction, the destruction of her treasured memories. It was Delilah. And I let her go. Like a fucking fool. I allowed sentiment to cloud my judgement. I won’t make that mistake again.“You are starting to test my patience, Madeleine,” I grit the words past my teeth. “Then let us go,” she says, lifting her chin defiantly. “I didn’t ask you to bring us here.”If she were anyone else, she’d be over my lap right now, getting the spanking she so richly deserves. “A little gratitude is in order.” I purposefully drop my voice lower. “I saved your life yesterday. I saved your sister. I am giving you a home.”Her shoulders slump. “Yes. You are right
RafaelAs soon as everyone vacates my office, I sit down behind the desk and pull a burner phone out of the drawer. I have dozens of them. Use a phone once and destroy it. Technology makes it damn near impossible to be a decent criminal these days.I put a call in to Sforza. He answers after an eternity, voice still thick with sleep. Our business mostly takes place at night, so it’s rare for us to be awake at such an early hour.Still, one would think after losing a million dollars in cargo, he’d be awake and looking for a solution. “What do you want, Andoletti?” Sforza answers curtly. "I just came to bed."“Real nice,” I answer, my tone measured and even. “After what you’ve done at my place of business no less.”“What I did?” he scoffs. “What about you?”He is not on a secure line, and I don’t talk business on our official cell phones.“Phone me back on this number in five,” I cut him off.I throw the burner on my desk and sit back, knotting my fingers behind my head while I wait for
MadeleineI fell asleep again after the doctor’s visit. His news was rather grim. Most of my injuries from the beating I took yesterday would heal just fine, but the poison is another story. He suspects that I might have permanent nerve damage.He wants me to undergo further testing, but after I explained to him that I couldn’t pay for such expensive tests, he simply gave me an injection for the pain and left. Now I’m wide awake and more wired than a bunny on meth. I am restless, not sure what to do with myself.The doctor left a bottle of painkillers for me to take, but I haven’t needed it. He did say it’s only for the nerve pain, and since I don’t know what that’s supposed to feel like, I just left it.He confirmed my own assertion that the best cure for the body aches after the beating is to move around as much as possible but to, in his words, “not overdo it, unless you want to end up in the hospital.”After a few hours of dawdling in the bedroom with nothing much to do apart fro
MadeleineFlabbergasted, I stare at Rafael. “Thank you?”“Yes. That’s usually what people say after someone did them a solid.”“Wow,” I snort. “You really have a set of balls on you, don’t you? You are trying to buy my sister’s love, trying to… get her to turn on me, and you want me to thank you for it?”Rafael’s eyebrows lift into a lazy question. “Do you think so lowly of me? Have I not proven myself to you yet?”“Proven what?” I spit out. “First you poisoned me, then you-” I make air quotes -“rescued me, and now you’re holding me captive.”“Ah.” He tilts his head back, a condescending smile playing over his lips. “The poisoning was… unfortunate, I’ll grant you. I didn’t know it was you. I never saw you without your full habit, Madeleine. I didn’t even know you were blonde.”“So that justifies murder, does it?”“It was self-defence. From my point of view, you were trying to kill me.” He grips his hips and gives me a look that reminds me so much of Dom that I feel my heart break. W
RafaelOh God. I almost gave in. Almost.Her innocence is intoxicating, drawing me in like a man starved. It would have been so easy - just one kiss, just one taste. But I didn't bring her here for that. I’m not that man. I refuse to be that man.She is not for me. Not in that way. I didn’t bring her here to fuck her like a common whore. She is so much better than that. But she can never know, and she will never know.She will remain untouched. My Sister Francis. My saint.She wanted me - I saw it in her eyes. But I know what it was. Not desire. Not for me. Just loneliness. Just a need for warmth. Something innocent.I almost took it from her.“Will you come with me willingly?” I ask. “Or would you prefer it if I carry you again?”She looks at me, and I know she sees him. Dom. The man I should have been. The man I buried.And God help me, I wanted to give her that. I wanted to be him again.Just for a moment. Just for her.I thought I loved my life before. My life away from my family
Rafael“Get out,” I say to Claire, one of my maids, as I enter the kitchen with Madeleine.The maid drops the potatoes she’s peeling and rushes to leave the kitchen through the back door that leads out onto the lawn, where one of the groundskeepers is busy putting up Betsy’s new playset.Madeleine sees it, but doesn’t comment. Her disapproving scowl and the nasty looks she’s giving me tells me everything I need to know.“Here,” I say and pull out one of the bar stools next to the kitchen island. “Take a seat.”I have been choked before - I know what it feels like - and the doctor told me that the poison she took was slightly caustic, so her throat has been burned pretty badly, but he thinks her mouth and throat will heal.He’s not so sure about the potential nerve damage.It’s a concern, and something that could follow her around for the rest of her life. And I did it to her, she was right about that. I allow myself a moment to feel the guilt. It’s there, sharp and lingering, but the
RafaelThere’s no sign of Paulie when we pull up to the police station. He’s either inside, or sitting somewhere out of sight, keeping an eye on the situation.“Stay here,” I say to Enzo and slam the door shut before I jog across the street.I have no idea what Bruce’s plan is. He must know that coming here is a fatal mistake - the man is a scumbag, but he’s not stupid.Unless he’s hoping the feds will give him protection if he turns state’s witness.If that’s the case, he came to the wrong fucking place.I step inside the air-conditioned police station. People stop. Avert their gaze. Turn around and flee the other way.Only a few of the officers - the ones with honour - stand their ground, refusing to back down to me.They believe they’re better than I am. And fuck it, they are.I walk up to the front desk. “Where is Bruce Carmichael?”Without even looking up, the officer mutters, “Interrogation room three.”With a curt nod, I turn right and walk through the busy station, my back stra
MadeleineI pace around my room. I’m restless. And I don’t want to be here. Everytime I look at the painting, Jesus stares back at me, telling me that I’m a sinner.On the drive back, I waited and waited and waited for Rafael to scold me, it would have made me feel better, but he turned on Enzo instead. I got out of the car while his lieutenant stepped away for a smoke, and Rafael was furious at Enzo for not even noticing my escape.I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have gone to the police station to get my revenge. There was no reason for it. I just wanted to destroy what was left of Bruce, and I wanted to see Delilah’s face when I tore her whole world to pieces.I was selfish and vindictive, and I knew I’d get away with it because I had Rafael on my side.My eyes fall on the ratty pack stashed in the corner of my room. I didn’t unpack it - unpacking it would mean I’ve made this my home.It's not my home. It can't be home. I've only been here two days, and I already sunk to the
MadeleineBetsy is still peacefully sleeping when we go back to the bedroom. Rafael leans over the bed and picks her up, folding his arms almost protectively around her. Betsy moans softly in her sleep, then turns into Rafael, trustingly resting her head on his shoulder.“No,” I whisper. “What are you doing?”Now that I’m back, I don’t want to let Betsy out of my sight. I kind of trust Rafael with her - he kept her safe when I couldn't - but I want my sister near me. I feel better when she’s close.“If you want me to stick around,” he answers in a hushed voice. “She needs to go to her own bed or we’ll wake her.”My heart tumbles in my chest. I just invited a man into my bedroom. Anything could happen. But the more time I spend with Rafael, the more I can see Dom. He’s hidden by a hardened shell, but I know what is under that exterior.He’s just like me in a way. Shedding one skin for another so he can cope, so he can do his job.At long last, I nod and walk over to the bed to sit down
Rafael Madeleine hesitates for a moment, glancing past me at her bedroom door. “We had an agreement,” I remind her. “If I made it so you could come home-”“No. Yes, I know. It’s just… you want to take me to bed. Betsy’s in my room.”My eyes fall on her lightly trembling hands. Her eyes are dark, uncertain, but she holds her head high, back ruler straight.I take a step in her direction, wrap my hand around her fragile little wrist, while I stare at her beautiful, inviting lips. My heart tumbles in my chest. My knees go weak. My mouth runs dry.God, I want to kiss her.She had that effect on me the first day I met her. I knew then, as I know now, that she possesses a beauty and quiet innocence that needs to be protected at all costs.If only I found her sooner. The casino wouldn’t have touched her delicate soul. But it’s not an indelible stain. We can still wash it out.“What, exactly, do you think I will do to you?” I ask her, keeping my voice quiet, my tone low.“I… well, men take
RafaelI stand with my foot on the first stair, hand on the railing, when my phone starts ringing. The incessant pring-pring-pring echoes off the walls, setting my damn teeth on edge.I reach inside my pocket, and for some reason look up, straight at Madeleine who has a phone to her ear, and is leaning over the barrier, looking down into the foyer.With a grim smile, I glace at the number on the screen, knowing she’s the one using Enzo’s phone. I answer the call regardless. “Yeah?” I keep my eyes on her, unable to see her expression in the gloom, but I can feel her exasperation all the way down here.“Can you come up?” she asks.“You are supposed to be in bed.” I am trying with everything inside me not to laugh. I haven’t laughed in years - not a proper, feel it down in your belly, laugh at any rate.“Something happened,” Madeleine says.The laughter dies as abruptly as it started. “I’ll come up.”She ends the call and disappears from view. I can hear her hushed conversation with Enzo
MadeleineA scuffle at my door wakes me from a dead sleep.Ethel came by a few hours ago with my medicine and a little broth. It can’t be her.I slept for a week, and I’m still tired. As soon as the nurse left, I fell asleep again with Betsy pressed tightly against me.Her warmth and presence does give me comfort. Ethel was right.There it is again.I freeze, my insides turning to water, coldness spreading through my body as my heart rate spikes.Someone’s at the door.I try to tell myself it’s just Ethel, or maybe Marco adjusting his position in the chair, but the sound is wrong. It’s coming from the wrong place.A shadow breaks up the thin strip of light shining in through the closed door, and then it’s gone.For a long time, I lie perfectly still, unable to move, barely even breathing, holding Betsy as tight as I can.Slowly, the terror dribbles from my body, and I can command my limbs again. Still trembling, I gently extract myself from Betsy and swing my legs over the edge of th
MadeleineWith Marco’s help, I somehow manage to make my way up the three flights of stairs, but I’m exhausted and out of breath when we reach the landing. I sit on the top step and cling to the railing, taking in large gulps of air.Just over a week ago, I ran from the casino to my flat without breaking a sweat. Now I can’t even climb a flight of stairs.It’s sad. And humiliating. Marco fafs over me like a mother hen, desperately trying to get me up and into bed without outright overstepping his boundaries by picking me up.“I’m fine, Marco,” I wave him away. “I’m just tired. I’ll get up in a second.”“If you fall down these stairs, the boss will never forgive me,” he says, his voice filled with urgency. “You are my responsibility.”“Tsk,” I click my tongue, but stop myself before I can say anything else.Marco is just doing his job. And he can’t speak badly of Rafael, he’ll be punished for it. The poor man just stands there, wringing his hands and looking terrified, waiting for me
MadeleineRafael stands by the door, his hand on the handle as if he’s fighting the urge to turn around and run away again.He’s back to being Rafael. Every sign of Dom has disappeared. His eyes are strict, face set in an emotionless mask, body coiled tight like a snake getting ready to strike.“I- I can’t go yet,” I voice the obvious. I’m still attached to the drip and the machines.Rafael stares at me for the longest time, as if he’s trying to make a decision about me. Leave me here and run, or stay and risk… something.“What happened?” I ask.“Nothing. Doc said we could take you home.”“No, I mean with you… this week, while I was out.”He gives a nonchalant one-shouldered shrug. “Same old. Business as usual. I got Betsy into a really good private school. She started two days ago.”I should be angry. It’s not his place to make decisions for my sister.But I just don’t have it in me. Not yet.My debt to him is growing bigger by the day. And I know guys like him. He won’t just let it
RafaelI can tell just by looking at Madeleine that she thinks I’ll deny her request to see a priest and take confession, but priests take their vows seriously. I’ve yet to meet one who has broken the sacramental seal.No one knows that I still regularly go to confession myself. The priest is often the only person I can trust, and there are times when I need to unburden myself. I never give penance though—I’m not that much of a hypocrite, and I don’t plan to change any time soon.Unlike my often delusional partners in crime, I know exactly where I’m going when I die, and I don’t care anymore. It's far too late to save my soul.“There is a chapel on the first floor,” I offer, “with a priest in attendance. I’ll arrange for a wheelchair.”Madeleine stares at me - big, blue eyes are filled with guilt and shame.“There’s something… I have to beg you for forgiveness too,” she says softly. “I will do penance, but I don’t think it’s a sin that will be forgiven.”I cock my head at her and fro
MadeleineIt takes me a long, long time to wake up. It’s as if someone stuffed my head full of cotton and magnets are pulling my eyelids shut.I’m vaguely aware of the soft beeping of a machine, and my right hand itches something fierce. Betsy!My eyes fly open, and I stare straight up at a white ceiling.Where am I?Home. I must be home. But my apartment doesn’t have nice, clean ceilings like this.I have to get Betsy to school. It must be late. If she’s late again, they’re going to call me in. This time they might expel her.I groan softly and try to sit up.“Cara?” Rafael’s voice cuts through the confusion, and then I feel his warm hands on my brow. “She’s awake!” he calls out.“Whu-” my throat is dry and scratchy, my lips numb.“You are in the hospital.”“Whu?” I ask again.“Sh-sh. Don’t talk. Wait for the doctor.”“Ha-ppened. Wha- happened?”I look up at his handsome face, but it’s as if I’m trying to pierce through a white veil. He isn’t in focus. I can feel him, though. His han
MadeleineI pace around my room. I’m restless. And I don’t want to be here. Everytime I look at the painting, Jesus stares back at me, telling me that I’m a sinner.On the drive back, I waited and waited and waited for Rafael to scold me, it would have made me feel better, but he turned on Enzo instead. I got out of the car while his lieutenant stepped away for a smoke, and Rafael was furious at Enzo for not even noticing my escape.I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have gone to the police station to get my revenge. There was no reason for it. I just wanted to destroy what was left of Bruce, and I wanted to see Delilah’s face when I tore her whole world to pieces.I was selfish and vindictive, and I knew I’d get away with it because I had Rafael on my side.My eyes fall on the ratty pack stashed in the corner of my room. I didn’t unpack it - unpacking it would mean I’ve made this my home.It's not my home. It can't be home. I've only been here two days, and I already sunk to the