Ryder's POV

"Que maldito tonto." Rafael continued with the one-sided conversation he'd been having ever since I let him walk past my front doors.

Which had been massively idiotic thinking on my part. An impulsive decision that I was now fully regretting because he was making me want to hurl the nearest possible object at his face, just so he would stop rattling and wearing my ears off.

"Fuiste grosero y lo sabes, pero sigues actuando como un tonto obstinado y fingiendo ignorarme. Como si no pudieras entender lo que estoy diciendo actualmente." And if that wasn't torture enough, he kept tapping that goddamn fork in his hand on an empty glass of water and I was minutes--no, seconds--away from grabbing him by a fistful of his own hair and breaking his nose all over again.

"How is your nose, Rafael?" I faced him and leaned against the polished white marble counter behind me.

Rafael narrowed his eyes to identical and suspicious slits and rubbed the tip of his nose almost self consciously. It wasn't looking bloody like it had been when I'd sent him hurtling across the bar counter the other night, when I'd punched him in the face, but the bruise still looked fresh and that seemed enough to quieten down the spark of rage he was so hell-bent on igniting within me.

I hated when Rafael went on rambling like that and he knew it. He knew it yet he still did it anyway because the main purpose, I now knew perfectly well, was to piss me off. It lately felt like everyone's sole reason to live was to piss me off until I did unfair, stupid shit.

Like when I'd yelled at Alice and spoken all those hurtful words. Hurtful because I'd seen it in her eyes. Those same eyes that rendered me speechless most of the time--they'd flickered with an emotion that had resembled pure hurt more than anything that night, and then again last night because apparently, I was a fucking tool when it came to apologies.

"My nose will live." Rafael sniffed haughtily. "You are a menace."

"And?" I crossed my arms. "Are we crossing out every ugly adjective that describes us both? Because I don't need words to tell you how close I'm to losing it--again, Rafael--and I'm going to bash your face on this very counter you're sprawled against if you don't stop the berating and tell me what the hell I did wrong. Now."

I watched as he, very slowly, removed his upper half from the counter, staring down at it accusingly before snapping that look at me.

"You didn't apologize, you fool," he said. "Go back through everything that you said to Alice last night when you met her, everything that you told me just now, and tell me, did any of those words include 'I am sorry'?"

I blinked, gripping the edges of the counter behind me hard enough before letting go.

"No," I stated.

"No?" He raised his hands in the air. "Why the fuck did it take you so long to come to that conclusion? Octavio, your family has fucked you up so bad that you do not even know what an apology consists of!"

"I know what an apology is."

"Yes?" He laughed. "Tell me, do the words 'I am sorry' come before you tell the person they're stupid or does it come after that?"

I stared at him, scowling. "It depends."

Rafael had the decency to hold his expression for a few seconds before he was slumping back on the counter and berating me once again in his native language.

Aggravated, I tried rolling the tension off of my shoulders and went towards the huge refrigerator, pulling open one of the doors and taking out a water bottle. I was in the middle of twisting off its cap to drain every bit of the cold water when Rafael added,

"I need a beer for every effort I put up with you."

I didn't give him a beer. I didn't give him anything.

"Octavio," he continued with a weary sigh. I looked up at him.

"Stop calling me that," I said.

"It is your name." He pointed out as if he didn't already know that I didn't wish to hear that name, at least not at this moment. I drank some more of the cool water and told myself to let it go. This wasn't normal. I didn't usually stay furious with Rafael. But that stupid, pointless chase at Ashby's nightclub had left me restless and angry, because I hadn't gotten anything out of it. I'd only managed to add another menace on top of it all in the end. Ashby's family and men might somewhat be after me or my father and that was the last thing I wanted--to hear from my father.

I was agitated and bristling with rage because I'd...I had hurt Alice. She didn't hate me, she'd so easily agreed to meet me outside the library just yesterday even though I'd been a prick to her the night of that party. I'd made her leave and I'd watched her walk away, alone, to her campus when she'd refused to get in the car with me. I'd watched the way my words had made those eyes of hers widen, those soft beautiful lips tremble with fear. Sadness.

I'd made her sad just because I hadn't been able to keep my own emotions in check. Because my eyes had kept straying down to those marks, those bruises on her neck. Red and dark and unwelcoming against the creamy skin of her neck. I had been livid. And fuck, I wished she hated me then, or now, or yesterday. That would've been easy. I'd hurt her and I'd hurt her in the worst way. Struck somewhere that had made the beautiful chestnut of her eyes dim with sadness.

It caused a bristling agitation inside me that felt all too familiar. I'd messed up and now I were to fix it. That's what my father had always put a heavy emphasis on. And there it was again. My father.

I don't like being used, Ryder, Alice's soft whisper echoed in my ears again and again. Like a warning, like an alarming plea. Because there was more to it than just that. There had been more she'd been saying that I hadn't heard. And hadn't I done exactly that? Used her in a way that she wasn't even aware of?

"Nombre de Dios, you really are smitten with our Alice here." Rafael was grinning now.

I frowned, gritting out, "What did you just say?"

"Your Alice." He fumbled hastily and broke out laughing. "First querida and now all this. I am so glad you have got me here for emotional support since I'm your only childhood best friend who's still living and breathing."

"You are not."

"Of course, I am." He had the nerve to look offended. "Can you imagine--"

"Look, Rafael." I cut him off because this was it. I was not going to listen to him speak anymore if it wasn't going to be anything remotely informative. "The only reason I tolerate you is because you tell me about Santiago. If I weren't after him and if he weren't a psycho driving off the deepend, you wouldn't be here. I don't think of you as my friend. You are someone who has a connection back to my father and my family and his men, and that way I know when and where Santiago is next going to attack."

A peaceful moment of silence passed by until it wasn't so peaceful anymore.

"Stop pouting, for God's sake." I pulled a barstool towards me and slumped down on it. Raking hands through my hair, I forced out, "Rafael, I swear--"

"Fine. Whatever you say, Octavio." He sat back down across from me and straightened up as if talking business. Finally. "But I am still your friend and your..." He trailed off, thinking of a specific word. "...brutish behavior has never put me off. Much. So here's the deal."

"There is no deal, Rafael."

"Okay." He grumbled. "As your trustworthy friend, I hereby announce that I know how to make you fix things with our...your...the Alice."

"I am not going to apologize again." I forced out the words. "You know how that went. I can't say it properly. I've never had to apologize before. Those stupid words don't mean anything anyway and even if I try... Fuck, only unbelievable shit comes out of my mouth."

Rafael made a placating gesture with his hands. "I know, I know. We are not going to do things with words. What is that saying? Ah, actions speak louder than words!"

I already knew I wasn't going to like this with the utterly moronic way he was grinning at me.

"We are going to speak some actions!"

•••

I was fidgeting with the safety lock. On, off, on, off. The shotgun pistol felt like a dead weight in my hand and my finger kept brushing against the trigger, tempting, but not enough mess up my house when I'd just got it cleaned.

Gritting my jaw, I put the safety on once again and wondered if the cylinder needed unloading. Six bullets. I may or may not have used two of them.

"Octavio, fucking put down that goddamn pistol!" Rafael exclaimed in the midst of whatever he had been helping James with. James partially looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here in the lounge of my penthouse. I couldn't blame him because I was starting to wish the same for myself. "You are scaring the kittens!"

I cocked the gun and the click was soothing, the echo of it was satisfying. Two identical revolvers sat on the counter right before me and I knew they'd fit just right in my hand.

"Octavio!" Rafael yelled again but was interrupted when one of the godawful offspring of a scraggly cat escaped his arms and lunged at the kitchen counter. "Oh no, oh fuck!"

"Boss?" James was standing by the doors, eyes scanning the lounge in confusion and maybe even weariness. Just yesterday he had been following on a close lead to one of Santiago's hiding spots and now, now he was stuck helping out Rafael with his stupid antics.

I carefully put the pistol away before looking up at Rafael. "Get the zoo out of here, Rafael."

He raised his hands in the air and there was a long, neat scratch on his cheek. That too was a little satisfying.

"Kittens, Octavio!" He said. "This is one way to apologize."

I blinked in surprise and looked down at the grey sphynx moving rather leisurely towards the tall glass floor to ceiling windows across from me. "You want me to give this creature to Alice?"

"Well, not that one. We've got options. Choose any from these kitties!" I couldn't quite believe at that moment how Rafael--how this man who was fucking loosing it over a bunch of kittens--ever managed to fit in so well with my father and his men.

I looked over at the swarm of kittens near his socked feet and sighed. "I want them out in ten seconds, Raff, all right?" I was being considerate. Ten seconds were still too long.

His eyes widened comically. "No. You asked for my help and I'm helping you. It's not my fault you refused all my other amazing ideas."

"You suggested I buy that crystal studded dagger from none other than Chase's fucking mansion and gift it to Alice as an apology." I glared at him. "Either that or buy her that flower shop you can't stop blabbering about."

"Those were amazing ideas!"

"Who are we buying the flower shop for, boss?" James asked curiously.

I ground my teeth together when Rafael jumped in to explain. "For Alice! Alice Rhodes!"

"As an apology?" James seemed skeptical. "Wouldn't that be a little...too much?"

I looked at Rafael who huffed. "The bigger the gesture, the more profound the apology seems to be. Don't you understand?"

I did understand. But I also didn't think Alice would appreciate it if I bought a whole fucking flower shop for her. She'd maybe even hate it. And then she'd hate me.

"Fine, you tell me what she likes then. Maybe we can make you gift her something she likes." Rafael looked over at me expectantly.

I stared back at him. I wasn't going to tell him anything I knew about Alice--which clearly was nothing. Or at least I didn't know the important bits about her, the parts that mattered, or I wouldn't have said such stupid words right to her face only to see the hopeful look in her eyes crumple before me. I couldn't even have made myself trace her entire background like I normally would've done if someone piqued my interest. It was better to know most about someone before you went after them. But I hadn't. I couldn't with her when I knew she'd hate it (she'd been upset when I'd known something as little as her phone passcode).

And it wasn't just some measly hint of curiosity that I carried for her. It fucking wasn't and I was aware.

"Something that she's been wanting for a while?" Rafael continued with his guessing. "A necklace? Diamond earrings? An alpaca? Two?"

James smothered a laugh and I started counting to twenty-five, reached seven (fucking seven) before I gave up on it. This wasn't going anywhere.

I stared down at the black revolver and thought over Rafael's words. I'd been there at Alice's parents' house. I'd been inside her bedroom, for fuck's sake. There had been nothing, nothing that could've told me what she liked or disliked. Those photographs I remembered from her dresser--most of them had been of strangers and friends and people who made her smile and not say stupid hurtful shit to her face.

There had been one frayed photograph, though. Of an old, rather creepy violin. And I did remember her muttering something about a burgundy case when she'd been frantically searching around her room for something lost, even going as far as sticking her head under that creaky old bed that didn't look like it had been used in a while.

"A violin," I spoke up.

Rafael perked up. "That is very odd but I will not say anything because we've finally got something to pursue!"

"How about tickets to that orchestra they're putting up in Manhattan next week?" James added in. I tried not to frown at him because why the fuck was he still here? Why was he entertaining Rafael with ideas?

"Yes!" Rafael exclaimed a little too loudly. "Fuck, yes! I am loving where this is going! James, you are the savior, my child! I shall tell your real boss to increase your salary."

James's real boss also happened to be my father and everyone in this room (including Rafael) fucking well knew there was never any salary when it came to my father's men. There were threats and there were blackmails--things my father held over their heads until they had to work for him. Either those men did what he asked or they got killed brutally in one dark alley or another.

I'd seen that happen all too many times.

"Uh...boss?" I looked over at James to see him gesturing at the blinds. The blinds that a certain brown cat was busy chewing on.

"Rafael, I fucking swear to God--"

"I'm on it!" He cut me off and ran to that godawful spawn of the devil itself. "Purrito, come on now, lad. No chewing on the furniture, we agreed on that, yes?"

I groaned out loud and turned around, dragging my hands up my face and into my hair. There was that itch again, borderlining on painful, and I wanted to punch something. Rafael's face seemed like such a good option. Or the guest room. I could trash it again (like I'd done last night) and maybe make sure the wall mirror remained cracked to sharp little bits this time. Whoever came by to clean this place up would damn well take care of it.

"Oh no, Octavio," Rafael exclaimed behind me. I pinched the bridge of my nose and tried to take a deep breath. "I think I got it. Just look at her. What an adorable darling!"

I told myself this was it and turned around, only for him to hold up a tiny black kitten right up to my face. I blinked and pulled back a little. Big round eyes the color of honey stared back at me, wide and unblinking.

I stared. It blinked back.

"She is perfect for your querida." Rafael grinned.