Page 149 of Monsters Wear Crowns
Rafe:Are you safe?
I stared at the screen, my heart a thunderstorm in my chest. And before I could stop myself, I typed out a single word:
Yes.
The response was instant.
Rafe: Good.
I swallowed hard, staring at his name on my screen until my vision blurred. Rolling over, my head buzzed with all the good food, alcohol, and laughs with Laura.
I didn’t answer him again even if my soul reached for his.
Chapter 28
RAFE
Life without Adela was brutal. Not just empty...but savage, gnawing, relentless. I watched her every night. Kieran told me to stop. Said I was only making it worse. I ignored him.
The Orchard House, with all its warmth and memory, felt like a mausoleum without her in it. Every night I spent there was a battle against ghosts I couldn’t name. I’d pace the halls, grip the walls until my knuckles bled, and try to drown the ache in whiskey and silence. But the silence was the loudest thing of all.
I hated being alone.
So I watched her from a distance. Always out of view, always careful. But she knew. SheknewI was there. And I think, on some level, she wanted me there, too. It was the only thing that made sense of how she never shut the curtains. Never called the police.
But tonight wasn’t for watching.
Tonight, I was returning to the mansion. To the basement. Construction hadn’t started on the new wing or anything. The place was gutted and half-abandoned, cold concrete and shadows where walls used to be.
Perfect. I needed it. Because tonight, I was done pacing. Done watching. Tonight, I was doing what I did best.
Fucking killing.
The man was already bleeding when we dragged him through the mansion doors.
I didn’t care.
Didn’t give a single fuck about the way his head lolled forward, blood dripping from his split lip onto the marble floor. Kieran and another one of my men had done a good job roughing him up. His cheek was swollen, and his eye was nearly shut, but I hadn’t even gotten started yet. This was the man who approached Adela during the very recent bloodbath here. So recent that the stains had finally just been cleaned. I cracked my neck as I led the way down to the basement in an attempt to release some tension. But it didn’t work.
The air down here was thick with the familiar scent of concrete and horrific inevitability. Kieran dropped the bastard into the chair, the impact jarring enough that he let out a strangled groan. The zip ties around his wrists bit into his skin as he slumped forward, his breathing shallow.
I rolled my shoulders, stretching out the tension in my muscles as I took a slow step forward. “You know why you’re here.”
The man didn’t respond.
I grabbed his chin, forcing his head up. His one good eye was dazed and unfocused, but when he realized who was before him, a flicker of recognition passed through his bloodied gaze. He swallowed.
Good. Anxiety was setting in.
“You work for Moreau,” I said. It wasn’t a question. “You approached Adela.”
Nothing.
My grip on his jaw tightened. “You tried to get into her head. Tried to turn her against me.”
His lips twitched. “Looks like you did that all on your own.”
I grinned. Then I slammed my fist into his face. The chair rocked with the force of the hit, a sickening crack echoing throughthe space. The bastard groaned, his head snapping to the side, fresh blood dripping from his nose.
