Boost by Vi Summers

 

Chapter 45

-Raf-

 

 

My stomach churned violently as fury rose, creating another blinding rage that made me want to punch something. Ironic really, since Greer had just implied that she’d experienced violence at some point in her life. I just hoped to God that she hadn’t suffered as bad as my mamá had; that thought alone physically sickened me.

Instead of letting the monsters rise, I pressed my lips into her hair and blocked out the world.

“Alright. I’ll listen. I’ll follow you home,” I found myself saying. After all, it was the least I could do.

I carefully controlled an exhale in the hopes to mask each hard kick of my pulse. I could barely see straight through the agitation mixing with dread in my gut and had to consciously ease my grip on Greer. Despite the fear of hurting her again, I couldn’t bring myself to let go altogether. Not when I’d ached for her for two days.

Now that she was in my arms again, Greer seemed as reluctant as I did to lose our connection.

The torment written throughout the lines on her face hit the softest places within my heart, and her gaze searched mine as if locating my vulnerable spots. Little did she know, my biggest weakness was her.

“You ready?” I didn’t want to pressure her, but fuck I needed answers.

She nodded and forced a shaky smile. “Are you?”

I smirked and dropped my sunglasses back into place. “No, but lead the way.”

Unwillingly letting her slip from my grasp, I hovered close as she slid behind the wheel of her car. Once buckled, she looked at me from under her thick lashes and forced a smile.

“This isn’t a race, slick, but you might want to start your engine already.”

Dipping my chin when I felt my mouth tug, I took a moment, then gave her a devilish smirk.

“You wanna be careful challenging a God to his own game.”

With a press of the start button, her Maserati purred to life. “I’m not scared of betting against the odds, Ortiz.”

Greer’s expression shut down and her humor slid away. She eyed me as if I’d suddenly become a stranger. And then I twigged; in her eyes, parts of me were a stranger now.

“I’m still the Raf I’ve always been, mamacita.”

A nervous lip-roll pressed her lips together before her tongue dashed out to moisten them.

“I know. It’s just… there’s questions…”

“For us both.”

Shutting the driver’s door and rounding the hood, I was a jumble of thoughts and erratic heartbeats by the time I slid into my car. I eased forward as Greer cruised through the parking lot, then I fell into place behind her on the street.

I struggled not to tailgate or wring the leather off the steering wheel as I drove. I was torn, so fucking torn, between pushing her away and pulling her closer where I’d never let her go.

The barred gate on the underground parking of her building rolled up as soon as Greer got close, and I tailgated her through before it rolled closed behind us. Her brake lights flashed and illuminated the dim surroundings as she eased into her designated parking spot. Idling slowly through the sporadically parked cars, I found the spaces reserved for visitors and pulled in.

The click of Greer’s high-heels echoed off the concrete floor and walls as soon as I popped my door open. I climbed out and waited for her determined strides to halt, right in front of me, as predicted.

Neither of us said a word as I followed her to the elevator and waited. When it dinged, I guided her in by the small of her back, but pulled away as soon as the doors sealed us inside.

We both leaned against the rear wall in a silence that made me twitchy. Bending forward to inspect my boots did nothing to ease the tension humming around us. It was too thick, too unsettling.

Glancing her way, I caught her eyes and returned her small smile. It killed me that we were suspended within the weight of conversations yet to come. I dreaded every single one of them.

When the elevator deposited us on Greer’s floor, I motioned for her to go first. The graze of my fingers along her waist made her inhale sharply, and her fingers trembled as she unlocked the door to her condo.

“Are you scared of me, Greer?” I murmured, taken aback when she whipped her attention my way and locked eyes.

“No.”

“Then why are you shaking so bad?” I asked, enveloping one hand in mine and smoothing my thumb back and forth.

“I’m just nervous.”

I frowned. “Around me?”

“No.” She shook her head, and a cute-as-fuck furrow formed between her eyebrows. “I’m nervous about telling you about my past.”

“Hey,” I said softly and ran the back of my knuckles along her jaw. “I’ve been there and I’ve seen it. I’m the last person you’ll receive judgement from.”

A ghost of a laugh escaped her plump lips. “You’re not exactly an open book, Rafael.”

I frowned and fought off a snappy retort. Instead, I inhaled deeply and then worked the weight from my shoulders.

“For you, I will be.”

Some of the tension in her stance slid away. “Come inside. Drink?” she offered over her shoulder.

I followed her into the kitchen. “Coffee, thanks,” I mumbled. Then it hit me. “Why the fuck aren’t you at work?”

“I took a day.”

“Why?”

The coffee mug cracked down onto the stone counter, and apparently that was the only answer I was getting. A shot glass followed suit, along with a bottle of Jose Cuervo. I raised my eyebrows at Greer as she poured herself a shot and tipped it back without lemon or salt.

“That seems a little extreme, don’t you think?” I chuckled, then quickly shut up when I received a scathing glare.

“I was in a physically and mentally abusive relationship for almost a year.”

Her words cut across the air and landed on me like a fresh lashing. I coughed on the inhale that snagged in my throat and gripped the island bar like my life depended on it.

“The fuck?”

Greer held up a trembling hand to demand silence. “It got progressively worse until I couldn’t take anymore.”

“Why’d you stay?” I asked quietly, knowing it wasn’t ever that simple after seeing my mamá go through her shit.

But I never understood why those suffering didn’t leave sooner. After all, I was sure Greer didn’t have children with her ex, and therefore wasn’t ‘obliged’ to stay for the sake of her family.

She shrugged. “Why does anyone stay in a relationship like that?”

When I simply stared without saying a word, she sighed heavily. “I believed him when he promised it wouldn’t happen again. He’d tell me how sorry he was and beg me to stay. Buy me something nice as an apology gift and implore that he would change for me. Say that he was out of sorts and just having a bad day. I trusted him over and over again, each time believing that he’d finally start treating me better. Each time I’d be so happy because I thought he finally realized that I was worth enough for him to change. He didn’t, though.

“Then, one day at my lowest, my friend found me having an anxiety attack in the bathrooms where we worked. She sat with me until I confided in her, and that night she helped me escape. I’m so grateful, because at the time, I didn’t have the courage to leave on my own accord. I needed that support—especially since no one knew how he was treating me. I guess I got good at hiding it.”

She took another shot of Tequila and grimaced. “Now you know my story.”

My fists curled into fists on the cold countertop. I didn’t know nearly enough. “Then what?”

“What?”

“After you left? Then what did you do?”

Greer looked me straight in the eye with the resilience I’d encountered when I first arrived at Landon-Michaels PR.

“I moved State, went to college and got my degree.”

“And met Christian?”

“And met Christian,” she confirmed.

“How much does he know?” My fingers flexed in anticipation of her answer, and I had to physically force them to relax.

The truth danced in her irises before she voiced it. “Everything. It took me a long time to open up to him about it, but we were at a point in our lives where we shared everything.”

“Including a bed,” I snapped.

Indignation hit her expression. “Hey, I don’t crucify you for every notch on your belt, so don’t do it to me.”

I raised my hands. “Fuck, you’re right, I’m sorry. Just the thought of you with someone else makes me…” I balled my fists again before schooling the intimidating reaction. “I don’t like it.”

“Nor do I like your catalogue of escapades, but I refuse to focus on that when I know it bothers me.”

I smirked. “It bothers you, huh?”

“Ass,” she hissed, and set her hands on her hips as she paced back and forth.

For the first time since arriving at her condo, I wished she’d yell at me. Scream, cuss, tear at my clothes. Show me exactly how broken she was inside without trying to be so fucking put-together.

Greer suddenly turned and pegged me to the spot with an intense stare. The accusation in her eyes made my blood run cold.

“Did you sleep with anyone last night or the night before?”

I spluttered. “The fuck?” I was angry she’d even ask, and equally as pissed that I willingly sought, not one, but two women last night to do precisely that.

“Did you sleep with anyone else during the last two days,” Greer enunciated as if I was thick.

“I didn’t.”

I steeled myself under her icy glare as it delved into my soul. There was no way in hell I would admit that during a moment of weakness, I actually wanted to go back to my old ways of fucking whoever was readily available.

“But you ghosted me for two days while I relentlessly tried to contact you?” she pressed.

I worked my jaw on and off and ignored her.

“Why won’t you fight for me, Rafael?”

My fists balled again. “What do you want from me, Greer?” I bit back with exaggerated calm. The kind of calm that came before a storm.

Red tainted her cheeks as she leaned across the counter and yelled into my face. “Jesus, give me some kind of emotion other than closed off! Rant, yell, swear for all I care. I need more from you. I’m sick of pressing for information. Just tell me what’s going on. Confide. Put up a decent argument for fuck’s sake.”

“You want an argument? Fine! Yes, I did want to fuck the last two days away to make me forget, but Teq and Stevie turned me down. Yeah, you heard that right,” I laughed bitterly when horror hit Greer’s face. “I was that desperate to forget how much I fucking want you. I literally wanted to break you and any chance of us ever being together again so you wouldn’t want me anymore. I hurt you, Greer. A past like mine fucks with your head. Yes, I ghosted you because I couldn’t face your interrogation, the questions, your pity,” I spat the word.

“I killed my own fucking father before he beat my mamá to death. Fourteen, Greer. Four-fucking-teen! I was just a fucking kid. And my sister? For all I know, she’s whoring herself out just to make it through each week. So yes, I changed my name to escape from the stigma that a murderer carries around for the rest of his entire fucking life!”

The tiled kitchen amplified my shout and screamed it back at me. The deranged echoes reflected exactly what I harbored inside, and I had to close my eyes to focus on fighting off the wave of debilitating anxiety.

Never, ever, had I been so frank about my past, and fuck it cut deep.

Every cell of my body vibrated with rage and resentment. But none of those words were strong enough to define what I truly felt; torn apart while completely—mercifully—numbed at the same time.

“Fuck you!” Greer’s harsh tone tore through the depressing haze. Her eyes held the anger I deserved, and I welcomed it with open arms. “I don’t pity you. I pity the fourteen-year-old boy that was forced to take a life to save another.”

“Stop talking,” I growled.

If she was trying to push me to my outermost limits, she was doing a fine fucking job of doing so. Much to my surprise, Greer didn’t shirk away from my hostility. Instead, she poured herself another shot, tossed it back, slammed the glass down, then raised her eyebrows in a silent challenge once the burn had passed.

“No.”

“Yes!” I roared. Each time I pushed, she shoved back harder.

“No! You need to shut the hell up and hear what I have to say, Rafael. Or Rafferty, or whatever the fuck your name is!”

“It’s Rafael, and if you ever call me Rafferty again, I’ll fucking-”

She snorted before dropping a mindless sneered retort. “What? You’ll kill me?”

As soon as the razored words whipped off her tongue, she knew she’d overstepped further than could be undone. It thrust us into a pause filled with nothing but white noise. Hostile and unforgiving. Broken and far beyond repair.

I shoved away from the island counter and strode for the door. “I’m fucking done here.”