Page 88 of One
“You already know the answer to that question, Michael.” His voice was calm and sobering. “My first kill was out of revenge. My second as well.”
“Your foster parents,” I whispered, remembering how they’d sold him. My hand lifted on its own and rested on his chest. I needed the contact; the feel of his heart beating under my palm silenced the running thoughts trying to overwhelm me. Rami, for once, was mute in the front seat, and his quietness made the air inside the car somehow heavier.
“I found out that in the years I spent with Meg and Linda, they sold more children, who suffered much worse fates than me. So, I took care of the two shitheads myself. And it felt good.”
I didn’t know when I had closed my eyes, but they slid open when I heard his last statement.
“Linda gave me a code—principles, if you prefer—to follow to conduct myself in the world so I don’t get into trouble. She also taught me how to become an expert at blending. I camouflage myself every time I go out. I pretend to be millionaire Raphael Bear-Stone, young, innovative president of Bear-Stone Labs and playboy.”
“Playboy,” I repeated.
“That’s what my piglet gets upset about?” He smiled fondly at me. “Ex-playboy,” he amended. “I like when you get possessive of me.” Raph’s familiar knuckle-brushing against my cheek helped calm me down. What he said before really shook me. I needed to know more.
“Camouflage?” I asked him.
“It’s the craftiest nature trick. And it’s a game I like to play. Fooling people is fun. Connecting with another human being… I found it boring.” I turned rigid in his arms, but Raph held me close. “Not with you, Michael. I never had to fake anything with you.”
“Because I’m yours?”
“Yes, no escape from me, babe.” The sweet smile fell from his lips. “I know how to blend in, but the trauma caused by the captivity was too rooted inside of me. It turned into a darkness that wanted to be fed. And it didn’t go away. It only grew with time. So, Linda found a way to channel it.” The gold speckles in his eyes sparked every time the car passed under a streetlamp, turning him into an unearthly dark angel.
“How?” I whispered.
“She turned it into a weapon. A weapon I used to punish people who escape the law or are good at hiding from it.”
“Punish?”
“Kill. We kill bad people who hurt decent ones,” he stated.
I studied his solemn face as I tried to process what he told me.
“Kill?”
“Terminate, execute, put down. We eradicate vicious murderers, rapists, people who enjoy hurting others… evil.”
“Like the angels of wrath?” I could feel my brows hit my hairline, but I didn’t move away from him. I didn’t feel afraid, just so damn shocked.
“Ironic, right? I don’t think Meg had that in mind when she gave us those names.” He smirked, but I didn’t share the mirth.
“Let me get this straight. You and your brothers kill people…”
“Shitheads,” he corrected me.
“Like paladins of justice?”
“Not a chance in hell!” Rami mumbled, scoffing from the front seat.
“I can only speak for myself, babe. There’s no justice involved. It’s a need to silence the darkness inside of me. Just like you and blood. Meg and Linda pointed this need toward good deeds… of a sort.”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I didn’t know what to say. Of all the scenarios I’d created in my mind in the last few days, this was the unthinkable one.
“I thought you were criminals. Like one of those mob families or whatever they’re called.”
Rami cackled, making me feel damn stupid for my assumption. “Oh, shut up! What the hell was I supposed to think?” I barked at him.
Raph squeezed my waist once again, turning my attention to him. His eyes darkened. “I would have become a criminal. An assassin. You don’t remember what they did to us, Michael. The ugliness they put inside of me needs an outlet. I won’t lie and tell you I do it out of some sort of honorable calling. I don’t. I like to kill them. I like to make them suffer. To see their blood spilling. The fact that they did something bad and need to pay for it, just like my foster parents did, is a plus.” His voice was firm, void of any emotion.
He could have easily faked it, but he chose not to with me. He’d always been honest with me—apart from the omissions. And now he was making himself vulnerable. He was putting all his family at risk, trusting me with their secret.
