Chapter 246

#Chapter 246 – Rafe I’m scowling as I storm into the house, slamming the front door closed behind me. I feel a pang of guilt when I see Ian and Victor twitch awake on the couch, Ian’s eyes wide with surprise and Victor instantly on defense, ready to take on whatever threat came through the door.

When he sees me, though – and my expression – he backs off, pulling Ian back onto his check and settling into the couch.

I narrow my eyes at him, pissed off and ready to light into anyone who comes in my path, but he doesn’t make a move, just watching me. So I move into the kitchen, glad, in my heart, that he didn’t rise to the bait.

I know it’s unfair – Victor hasn’t done anything, and Ian is obviously blameless – but I am just so mad.

Victor simply raises his eyebrows at me while Ian gives a little wave hello and closes his eyes again.

His sweet sleepy little face is a balm to my heart, instantly throwing a bucket of cold water on my rage, but frankly – I’m not done being mad yet.

So I turn on my heel and head for the sink full of dishes. I spin the tap, water splashing out of the faucet, and grab a scrub brush. Then, I start to go to town on the pots and pans waiting for me. I know it’s late at night, and that this can wait till morning, but damn it – I need something to take this anger out on. I grab a particularly crusty pot used to make macaroni and cheese and some steel wool, starting in on it with a vengeance.

My other choice, of course, is to go find Rafe and lay into him, to really make him know that he’d better be on his best damn behavior the moment Bridgette arrives, for her sake –

But a big part of me knows that I’m not nearly in the mental state necessary to do anything but tear him apart. So, I’ve got to find a way to calm down.

And thus, dishes.

I’ve got a few minutes, I know. Alvin is on a secret assignment to delay Bridgette’s trip home – my good little sneaky squirrel, my tricky tiger. We had a brief chat about it before we left and I know he’ll be begging her to stop at every place they see along the way – for bathroom breaks, ice cream stops, whatever he can think of. And Bridgette, soft hearted as she is, will oblige him, giving me just a few minutes here alone to ensure that everything is right here.

That Rafe isn’t wasted, or in a foul mood, or otherwise prepared to break her heart.

I finish cleaning the macaroni pot and slam it down on the counter, the sound ringing out through the house. I grit my teeth, staring at it for a moment, and then reaching for a casserole dish sitting at the bottom of the sink –

“Heyyy, trouble,” I hear Victor murmur behind me, and I spin – the tap still running – to glare up at his warm expression, his hand raised to begin patting my back. He flinches back when he sees my face, though, and lowers his hand, intuiting that I do not want to be comforted right now. “Are you all right?”

he asks, worried, crossing his arms instead.

“Me?” I begin, “oh, I’m fine. It’s your damn brother who you need to be watching out for right now.”

Victor sighs and reaches beyond me, turning off the flowing tap. “Rafe is upstairs,” he tells me softly, taking a step closer – brave man as he is – and looking down warmly into my eyes. “Cleaning up, as ordered. What else do you want him to do?”

“Go back in time,” I snap, crossing my arms, letting my anger course through me. “Not be such a d**k to Bridgette.”

“Ah,” Victor says, nodding sagely and unfolding his arms to take me by the waist. “Well, I’m working on that technology,” he jokes, deepening my frown. “But I’m sorry, love, I think that – as of now – that’s impossible. What’s this about, anyway?” Victor pulls me a step closer to him and, damn it, the nearness of his body calms me a little. I fight against it, wanting to stay mad.

“Bridgette,” I say, allowing myself to rest against him, just a little bit. “We spent the night talking about…

stuff. Love, relationships. And at the end she said she wants to come back, she wants to talk to Rafe.

Get closure.”

“Is that so bad?” Victor asks, leaning forward to kiss my hair.

“Closure, fine,” I respond, definitive. Then I look up at him. “But Victor, you know how sweet she is, and you know how manipulative he can be. I think that he picked her, specifically, because she’s someone he can control. And that if he gets his claws into her again, she’s not going to be able to get them out.”

“Well,” Rafe’s voice rings out from behind Victor, making me flinch. “An accurate if…scathing assessment of my personality, Evelyn. You’re certainly putting your degree to good use, aren’t you?”

Victor pulls away from me and looks behind him, opening my line of sight to see Rafe standing there as well, clearly offended and on the defense, but clean-cut and shaved, dressed in a casual pair of slacks and a sweater. I have to admit, he looks good.

Which just makes me narrow my eyes. Suddenly, I don’t want him to look good – to wear this disguise of a clean, tidy man which will make Bridgette think that he’s reformed.

“Did anyone take pictures of Rafe drunk on the floor?” I call out, looking between Ian and Victor. “I’ll want those on hand tonight.” I turn my eyes back to Rafe, glaring. “Evidence.”

Rafe opens his mouth to retort, his brows drawing closer, but Ian interrupts.

“I did!” he calls. “I got polaroids! Let me go get them!” He jumps off the couch and rushes upstairs.

“That’s my boy,” I say, smirking and looking up at Victor. “We’re sending him to detective school. It’s decided.”

“There’s no such thing, babe,” Victor murmurs passively, looking between me and Rafe.

“Then we’ll make one,” I decide, in the kind of mood where I can’t be told that I’m being unreasonable.

There’s only space for one emotion in me right now: anger.

“Evelyn,” Rafe says, clearly working hard to keep his emotions even as he confronts me. “Clearly, you have an opinion about who I am and how I’ve treated Bridgette.”

I scoff and then laugh derisively, opening my mouth to tell him precisely what my opinion is, but Victor tightens his arm around my waist, obliging me to look up at him. His expression is stern, but pleading as well, begging me to hear his brother out. Slowly, and glaring to let him know that I am only doing this for his sake, I close my mouth.

My mate gives me a little smile, and then takes a step back.

“I’m going to leave you two to it,” Victor says, nodding to me and then letting me out of the comforting circle of his arms. “Be civil,” he says, pointing between us. “Or else I’m making Ian come down here to play referee. He’s a braver man than me.”

“I can be ref!” Ian shouts, pounding down the stairs with a collection of photographs in his hands. Victor intercepts him before he can get to Rafe and I, sweeping Ian up in the air and carrying him back into the living room, my little boy in a fit of laughter.

I watch them go, smiling a little, and then turn back to Rafe.

“Evelyn,” he begins again. I scowl at him, but let him continue. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, clearly feeling awkward. “I know that I’ve…been horrible. Completely terrible, in the past. But…”

he looks up at me then, vulnerable, his heart clearly on his sleeve. “I love her, and I regret it all, and if I could take it all back, I would.”

“The damage is done, Rafe,” I growl, angry at him and all the stupid Alpha men like him who think that an apology and a promise to be better can wipe away decades of trauma. “You don’t get to start with a clean slate.”

“I know,” he concedes, looking down at his feet and at least having the grace to look ashamed of himself. “But if she gives me a chance to try again, to treat her as she deserves,” he shakes his head.

“It would be…such a gift.”

I storm up to him then, making him look at me and pointing a finger directly into his face. “I swear, Rafe Kensington,” I snarl. “If you make that girl cry once – even one tiny tear –“

He nods, opening his mouth to agree, but at that moment, the front door creeks open. And as one, everyone in the room turns towards it.