CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
VIVIAN WOKE TO A LOUD pounding in her head. Disoriented as she was from the pain pill she’d taken before falling asleep, it took her a minute to figure out that someone was at the door.
“Vivian. Are you in there? Vivian?” Rafael said through the panel, sounding panicked.
“Yeah,” she said, trying to struggle to her feet. Her leg burned like crazy, worse than before she’d taken the painkiller. How long had she been asleep, anyway? “Hold on,” she called.
“It’s Rafael, Vivian. Are you in there alone?”
“Give me a second.”
A string of curses drifted through the door as she slowly hobbled across the room. Maybe she’d been a fool to turn down the crutches they’d offered her at the hospital, but she’d been afraid of falling flat on her face as she tried to use them.
Her drug-fuzzed brain had her struggling with a lock that a kindergartener could open. The second it clicked free, the door flew open and Rafael pushed his way in.
He swept her up and into his arms the second the door closed behind him. “What are you doing walking on that leg? Why are you here alone? Why didn’t you call me?”
“My mother brought me home a couple of hours ago, but when she got on my nerves I begged her to leave so I could sleep. That’s what I was doing when you got here—getting ready for bed.”
“I’m sorry.” He sat beside her and brushed a kiss over her forehead. Her traitorous heart beat faster, but she willed it not to respond. “I should have called you, but things went unbelievably crazy after I left the hospital.”
“What happened? Did you find Diego?”
His face clouded. “Oh, yeah. When I got back to the center he was sitting in front of my door with a gun. He wanted to die, Vivian.”
“Oh, no! Is he okay?”
Rafael sank against her, his head resting in the curve of her shoulder as he took long shuddering breaths. “For now. I called a friend of mine who’s a counselor. I’d tried to get Diego to see her before, but he wouldn’t have any part of it. This time I told him he doesn’t get a choice.”
“Good.”
He shook his head. “It was unbelievable, Vivian. I was sure he was going to shoot himself, and I couldn’t fathom what I was going to do without him.”
“That must be what he feels like, having lost Esme and his son.”
“Exactly. The poor kid—I can’t imagine what he’s been walking around with since they died. Oh, and there’s more.”
As he told her the story of what had happened, Vivian’s stomach flipped over again and again as she stared at him in disbelief. “I used to babysit Thomas when they came to our house,” she said hoarsely. “He was just a baby.”
“Yeah, well, he’s not a baby anymore, and he’s in a world of trouble. Despite the fact that his father had him lawyered up, the kid’s cocky enough that he just might give them a confession for Esme’s murder. Jose seems to think it’s a possibility, not that he’s sure they’ll need it. They found Esme’s address in his wallet and he doesn’t have any good excuse as to why it’s there.”
“Her brothers?” she asked, horrified at the thought.
“I think so.”
“But how is that possible? Why would Thomas do this?”
“Too much money, not enough supervision.” He shook his head sickly. “I don’t know what makes a kid who has every advantage do something like that.”
“So what happens now?”
“Now the police try to figure out which way is up. Richard has them so protected it’ll be a miracle if one of them breaks, but I’m hoping Greg will. He doesn’t strike me as having much backbone.”
Vivian thought back to the kid who had watched Nacho attack her outside the community center, and had to agree. But still…“So does this mean Esme’s brothers were involved, after all? Or that they weren’t?”
“Jose’s pulled them in for questioning, as well. Judging from their reactions when they saw Thomas Stanley behind bars, I’d say they knew he killed their sister. But I think the money and the drugs were more important to them—at least to Danny—than seeing their sister’s killer punished.”
“That’s…”
“I know. Disgusting, right?” He pulled her against him and cradled her in his arms.
They stayed that way for a while, Rafael twirling a strand of her hair around his finger while she listened to the steady beat of his heart. Eventually her leg started to hurt too much for her to ignore, and she shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position.
“Do you need another pain pill?”
“I think so, but I hate them. They make me so drowsy.”
“Better that than suffering. Where did your mom put them?”
“I think they’re on the kitchen counter.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I’ll be right back.”
He was as good as his word, quickly returning with a pill and a large glass of water. “So what happened to your mother?” he asked, settling down next to her again. “I thought she was supposed to be here taking care of you?”
“I kicked her out.”
“Why?”
Vivian wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say to that. Precious seconds ticked by as she tried to find a decent answer, but finally she just gave up. “She had you investigated.”
“Excuse me?”
“She was upset when she found you in my hospital room, and she wanted to find something to make me break up with you.”
“And she found it, didn’t she? What’d she have to say about my rape conviction?”
“She wanted me to dump you.”
“And that’s why you kicked her out?” His voice was completely emotionless. He had withdrawn far from her despite the fact that he still sat next to her on the couch.
“I kicked her out because she was trying to control me, and I won’t have that. She’s entitled to her own prejudices, I suppose, but that doesn’t mean she can try to foist them on me. I’ll pick who I hang around with, and to hell with what she and my father think is best. It’s not like they’ve got the best judgment in the world.”
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
Of all the things she’d thought he might say, that was the least expected. “What do you mean? Of course I should have—I care about you. And she has no right to judge you. Especially since she’s never bothered to have a real conversation with you.”
“She’s your mother. I don’t want to come between you two.”
“Give me a break. It’s not like we’re normally all warm and fuzzy, and you just got in the way. We’ve always had problems.”
“Still.” He shoved himself up from the couch. “If I’ve learned nothing else in the last couple of weeks, it’s that family is everything. You don’t give it up if you don’t have to.”
“Not everyone’s family is like yours.”
“I know that, but at the same time, you need whatever bonds you have. Diego nearly died because he lost those bonds.”
“And Esme did die because of her family ties. There are all kinds of families, Rafael, and I don’t want to be a part of one that’s so cold and calculating. Not anymore.”
“Yeah, well, what happens when you’re not mad at your mom anymore.”
“Excuse me?”
He walked over to the window, stared out at the storm-tossed ocean for what seemed like forever. “I won’t come between you and your family.”
“You aren’t.”
“Of course I am. And while you’re okay with it now, what about next week, when it’s Christmas?”
“My parents are going away for Christmas and leaving me here. Believe me, it won’t bother me at all.”
“Okay, what about your birthday then? Or when you get promoted to partner?”
“Yeah, well, I won’t make partner anytime soon. This whole Richard debacle should make me persona non grata around the firm for a while.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? He’s the one who assigned you the case so you could fail and he’s the one who had you shot when you didn’t. How is that your fault?”
“You obviously still have a lot to learn about how things work on my side of the tracks.”
“That’s my point. I don’t fit in—and I never will. Your parents won’t accept you being with me and there will come a time when you want them. I don’t want you to ever feel like you had to choose between me and them.”
“My mother made the choice.”
“Don’t you see? That makes it worse.”
“No, it doesn’t.” She stood up, tried to limp over to him, but he was across the room in a second, settling her back on the sofa.
“Yes, it does. Vivian, if you do this, you’ll come to resent me.”
As his words finally sank in, the lightbulb clicked on. He hadn’t said it back. She’d told him that she loved him, and he’d told her that she should make up with her mother. She’d been so caught up in her argument with her mother that she hadn’t realized it until this very second.
Could she have been any more of a fool?
“That’s what this is about, isn’t it? This has nothing to do with my mother. You don’t trust me.”
“I didn’t say that.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, backed away.
“You didn’t have to. One rich girl didn’t stick by you, so why would another? We’re all the same, right?”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“Sure it is. You’ve been saying it from the beginning, thinking it. But I thought we’d moved beyond the stereotypes. If I can believe you when you tell me you’re not a rapist, why can’t you believe that I love you? That I want to be with you? That I don’t care what my parents or my friends or anyone else says about you? About us?”
“Come on, Vivian. It wouldn’t work—you know that.”
“No, you know that. You’ve always known it. Right, Rafael? You never expected this to work. So why did you start it? Why’d you take me out, let me meet your family? Why’d you make love to me like that if you never planned on sticking around?”
“You can’t live your life torn between two different sides. It can’t work.”
“I’m not torn. You are.”
“You’re not being reasonable.”
“Well, excuse me. So you want me to be rational? Fine.” She limped over to the door and swung it open. And for the second time in twenty-four hours, she looked at someone she loved and told him to get out.