It wasn't uncommon for me to shoot people, though I tried to keep that kind of activity out of the house for Regina's sake.
Summoned by the noise, she hurried into the kitchen and ranted at me. "Mi hijo!" she yelled. "Now I have to throw out the ensaimada dough and disinfect the counter. You couldn't have taken your games outside?" She tutted, stepping around the counter to clean as Isa's scream echoed from the bedroom.
I dropped the gun to the counter, racing for the bedroom faster than I thought my bare feet could carry me. Regina followed at my heels, knowing there had been something different in that scream.
That one had been a scream of pain, of pure terror, and not one of frustration.
5 Isa
I dropped the lantern as I screamed, ducking down to cover my head as horror filled me. The potential of being shot, of everything ending so suddenly, seemed like such a ridiculous concept. I wanted nothing more than to be home.
I wanted the comfort of my mundane life as I curled my body in on itself and wished it all away. Rafael had said he'd kill me if I left him.
I hadn't believed him.
Silence followed the sound of the gunshot and the woman’s scolding shout, leaving me with nothing but my imagination to fill in the gaps of what may or may not be coming for me. I couldn't imagine the reality that the shot had been meant for someone else, not when it felt like it had been in the room with me. But a glance around confirmed that there was no shattered glass aside from what lay on the ground from the lantern. There was nothing but my own panic as I sat huddled on the floor in the room alone.
I heaved a sigh, putting a hand to the wall and carefully maneuvering myself to my feet. The sound of footsteps echoed in the hall as they came closer, pounding against the floors, and then the doorknob rattled.
"Isa!" Rafe yelled, the panic in his voice making me feel like, for a moment, maybe he gave a fuck what happened to me. I questioned myself, and the determination to hurt him to escape, but the vivid memory of that gunshot drove me to pick up the shattered lantern. Glass cut through the bandages on my hands, making me wince as the wounds beneath reopened.
The lock turned, and then the door flung open. I jumped to the side to avoid it as it came flying at me, my feet catching all the tiny pieces of glass that stayed on the floor as I moved hastily. When Rafael stepped through the door, I ignored the pain in my feet and pushed forward. Lunging for him, I swung my arm through the air and tried to hit him in the side of the head with the lantern.
He caught it in his grip, his face twisting with fury as he growled down at me. There was no trace of kindness in his face as he snatched it from my hand and flung it to the side of the room. A woman stood behind him as he snapped out a palm, catching me by the throat. His grip slipped, and I glanced down at the other hand fisted at his side to find it stained red.
I swallowed against the hand at my throat as he leaned into my space and used that grip to lift me up off my feet. His hold restricted my breathing, my blood-soaked fingers grasping his hand in protest. Ignoring me, he walked over the shards of glass at our feet, not so much as flinching when the pieces undoubtedly lodged themselves in his flesh. "Shit," the woman at his back said as her eyes met mine.
"Get the fucking first aid kit," Rafe growled at her. She turned, fleeing the room as Rafe brought me back to the bed. He set me on the edge of it, releasing his grip on my throat as I pulled my legs up and tried to crawl for the other side of the mattress. The blood from our hands stained the white bedding, the blood from my feet only adding to it in my struggle as he placed a hand down on top of my thigh and sat next to me.
"The gunshot," I protested, glancing toward the door. I hadn't seen any sign of a gun since he'd stepped in, but Rafe clearly didn't need a weapon to subdue me. He’d managed that all on his own, with nothing but a hand to cease my fighting.
My throat ached, feeling abused from his grip when he'd fucked me and when he’d lifted me over the glass. But the unmistakable reality was that he hadn't hurt me since he'd set me down. He'd used a brutal hold to carry me over the glass, but nothing more.
"You're hurt," he said, his voice a low murmur as he compelled me to sit still. It wasn't quite affection that I saw staring back at me, more the vague sense of ownership. I'd harmed what he thought of as his property, and he'd do what he could to fix it.
The woman stepped back into the room, her warm brown eyes meeting mine as she stepped around the glass carefully to hand him the first aid kit. "Clean up the glass while I deal with her," he ordered. She nodded, retreating from the room once again.
"Wait, please!" I called, my shoulders dropping in dejection when she ignored my plea and went about her business. Rafael opened the first aid kit and lifted my legs into his lap. With an odd gentleness that betrayed the fierce expression on his face, he
