Author: Sam Mariano
Category: Young Adult
Go to read content：https://readnovelfree.com/p/4350_9
Rafe watches me for a moment. Casually shoving his hands into his pockets, he does a slick glance back to make sure no one followed, then beyond me toward the other side of the hall. Finally, he looks back at me, his gaze probing as he asks, “What did you do?”
“Pissed off Mateo.”
He is not impressed. He doesn’t repeat himself, but his eyes adequately express that he still expects an answer to his question.
I try. I really do. I try to come up with a sentence to say to him, after watching him flirt with her all through dinner, knowing he likes her… but I can’t. Anything I say to him about what I did is more likely to turn him against me than compel him to help.
“The point is, my baby did nothing,” I state, trying to redirect the focus.
Whispers: Interactive StoriesMake your own choices and decide what happens next!
Rafe cracks a faint smile. I can’t tell if he’s amused or disappointed, but it lodges in my gut like it’s the latter.
Nodding his head toward the bathroom, he says, “Why don’t you go pee so I can take you back to Mateo?”
I realize I’m fucking this up. I want to stop. I desperately want to stop. I know what he needs, but I can’t give it to him. I can’t do what she did. I can’t spend an hour with him and then open myself up like a flower in the sun and let the man bask in me.
Goddammit.
“I’m not good at vulnerable,” I state, hearing my own defensiveness. “I told you, that isn’t me.”
“You realize Mateo already told me what you did, right? He doesn’t like you anymore; you think he’s keeping your secrets?”
That only makes me scowl. I cross my arms over my chest defensively. “If you already knew what I did, you didn’t have to ask. You’re just playing with me. This is my life. This isn’t a game.”
“It’s not a game. I asked you a simple question to see if you could answer it. You couldn’t.”
“It wasn’t a simple question!” I object, eyes widening. “You clearly like Mia. I got into this position in the first place by pissing off men who like Mia. You weren’t going to help me if you knew what I did to her.”
He shakes his head again, another cocktail smile on this face. This time it’s part amusement, part “the balls on this woman, Jesus Christ.”
“Are you sorry for what you did to your friend, or are you sorry you got caught?” he asks.
I try to read him, but he gives me nothing. On one hand, he likes Mia so maybe he wants me to be sorry. On the other, though, he’s some kind of Morelli criminal who probably does bad shit without apology all the time. Maybe he would respect ruthlessness. Maybe it would impress him if I held my head high and stood by my admittedly callous actions.
I don’t know which route to take. I can’t maintain vulnerability. I can maintain toughness—God, I wish toughness worked on him instead of vulnerability.
Mia spent two nights in his company and he decided to rescue her.
This is the third evening we’ve spent together. Maybe he’s on the fence. If I say the wrong thing, though, I lose my chance.
So, I stall and try to get more out of him. “Is that a trick question?”
This time the look on his face is clear: disappointment.
His gaze drops to the ground, still with a faint smile, but there’s no humor behind it. I failed his test. He wanted the sweetness, and I didn’t give it to him.
He’s not going to help me.
He was never going to help me.
I’m so mad at him now for toying with me, for dangling the idea in front of me and yanking it away. I turn on my heel, face flushed, and head for the bathroom.
“You know why you’re going to die, Meg?” he asks, before I make it through the door.
“Because I’m not loving and vulnerable enough to appease the Morelli gods?” I ask, my tone dripping with disdain.
Ignoring my jab, he says, “Because you’re still trying to control everything. You are not in control. You fucked up big time and you’re at his mercy now. Accept it.”
“He hates me,” I state. “He isn’t going to give me mercy.”
“Have you given him a reason to?” He pauses for just a second, then he says, “Or are you keeping your guard up like it’s going to save your life? ‘Cause I don’t know what his plan is, but I do know this—that guard is never going to save you. It’s gonna get you killed.”
“Well, if he needs to kill me for not being like Mia, so be it.”
“Don’t be stupid. He’s not going to kill you for not being like Mia,” Rafe states, his tone harder than I’ve heard it thus far. “He’s going to kill you for the same reason he killed Beth—because you’re being a stupid, selfish bitch.”