Ryder's POV

There was a single, hesitant pause before the insistent knocking resumed, and I knew without needing to move that it was Rafael on the other end of the closed front doors.

Of course, it was Rafael. I was the one who'd made the call. Though he still had an infuriating tendency to show up whenever I was about to do something highly questionable, in his words. Something that I shouldn't be doing, which were also words he'd said to me.

Because he thought he knew me, and maybe he did in that regard at least. Him showing up here right now still didn't mean I wasn't already thinking of ten ways to make his death quick and the least distracting--in seconds maybe and without any more obstructions from him.

Can't kill him, I reminded myself. Rafael was a pain to be around but he was useful. I couldn't just kill him, could I?

I looked away from the door and back at Alice, who I'd noticed had stiffened, although not in a way that told me she was about to push herself away from me.

I found myself staring into her eyes once again, the warm brown of them so addicting, and reminded myself that I was going to be the one to let go again. Like always. It is better that way, I told myself because that was a rational thought, one that made sense, as my fingers loosened around the soft, velvet strands of her hair. I let them fall against my fingers, just for a second, and cradled the back of her head.

She gazed up at me, still staring at me with her lips parted, waiting, worried--a temptation I didn't think I had in me to just brush past. How was I to--

"Wait," she blurted out, the hand on my shirt that was clenched into a fist tightening in response.

I'd only just started to mentally pull myself away from this tiny predicament, not even doing it physically, yet Alice had somehow known. I frowned, confused.

"Wait." She said it again, eyes pleading. "Just...just promise me we'll talk about this later and not ignore it entirely."

I have been ignoring it entirely, I almost said, but that wouldn't be the truth and I'd never lied to her before. I didn't want to start now.

"What is there to talk about?" I asked her and loosened my grip on her hair even further, reminding myself to be careful near the bandage on her neck. She hadn't wished me to be careful a few minutes ago, I remembered, so I pulled her closer by the neck until I felt her press against me--the sweet, warm press of her body against mine. "What is this?"

Why don't you ever let me touch you, she'd asked. How was I to tell her that touching her, the way I wanted to, the way she needed me to, might only end with her seeing all the ruins? My ruins.

Her eyes widened and the worry in them was slowly washed away by something else. Something soft and pliant and so goddamn innocent. Something like pure, selfish need. I gripped her near the base of her neck, tracing my other hand down the curve of her back, her waist. I could touch her and I could give her anything she wanted in that moment. I could've selfishly taken anything from her. But maybe only that moment. I'd give it all to her and I'd pull her in with me, into me, and when the dark will catch up to me, because it will, it would also claw its way inside her.

Did I wish for it to end that way, knowing that my life had never really been my own?

"What is this, Alice?" I asked her again, felt the way she refused to look away from me, wished I could give in and trace the red heat creeping down the pale skin of her throat, needing to know how far it traveled. It was a wild need, a dark hunger growing inside me and I'd fucking known deep down how terrible of an idea this would be from the moment I'd laid my eyes on her. On her honey-brown eyes that had held me still like no other.

Why was she so different? I asked and asked and still didn't understand why. I couldn't make myself care, not even the slightest when anyone around me got hurt or injured or wounded or god forbid, sad. I didn't care because that was my normal, something I'd grown up with. Something that I was used to because why the fuck would I waste my time on that?

But I would fucking kill, burn everything around me to ashes if anyone ever even thought of hurting her. And I was going to start with Santiago. I knew it. I was sure of it. Yet it still left me baffled.

Why did I care?

Maybe because they told me things--her eyes, they spoke when she didn't. They spoke when she tried to hide or lie her way through. I'd seen them taught and distraught back when I'd been at that family gathering of hers. Everyone had been so goddamn cheerful, smiling and laughing like stupid fools, yet Alice's eyes had carried something in them that had gnawed at me. She'd looked at me as if she wanted me to see it, see what was wrong and understand.

She'd never say it, had never voiced a word as far as I knew, but something was wrong. Santiago was after her and it was my fault. I needed her to know and I needed to keep her safe here with me.

I needed her with me. Fuck.

"Fuck," I whispered, frowned but then told myself not to.

I had been doing just fine telling myself I wasn't here to fix things for her. I wasn't, for fuck's sake. But those goddamn sunflowers that she loved so much--

"I..." She spoke faintly, eyes scanning my face. Fuck, I thought again a little too desperately this time. Fuck, but I hadn't even touched her properly, not the way I wished to show her, and she was already so beautifully limp against me, letting me touch her, wanting me to touch her.

Fucking hell. Why now? When you think you don't have anything to lose, that's when fate fucks you over, my father would've said.

My father. I almost laughed at the absurd hilarity of it. What did he even know of fate? He said the shittiest things and ended up fucking them all over anyway. Lesson learned the hard way.

Alice whispered, "I-I don't know," and I watched her throat, captivated as she swallowed. I leaned just a little bit closer because I wished to trace the delicate movement with my lips. She lifted one of the hands from my shirt, so beautiful yet so unsure and I let her place it on my shoulder. "I just..."

Was this how she behaved every time some random stranger picked her up in those bars she visited so frequently? I blinked, stiffened, and pulled back. It was confusing--the pure blinding rage coming alive inside me when I thought of it. How many had gotten to see her like this, touch her like this? Had she been so giving, so plaint like she was now, with all those fuckers who'd chosen her for the night?

"You just what?" I asked her, keeping my voice soft but letting just a hint of arrogance cross through it.

I didn't understand. Why would she let them--why the fuck would she let any of them--

I can get rid of them all, another calm thought followed instantly. I could, but then maybe she'd find out somehow, or ask me about it. I wouldn't lie to her, and then she'd be mad at me. Maybe even hate me for it, judging by the way I'd seen her react to the violence I catered to on a usual basis.

I could just buy her more of those flowers. They made her unusually happy, didn't they?

"Ryder." Alice gave me a soft push, only to tug at my shirt. My gaze found her lips--so soft and red and tempting--tempting me to commit sins.

My self-restraint was teetering on the edge. It was a temptation I couldn't resist--didn't think I'd ever be able to fully resist. Not when my name fell so desperately from between those same lips. And hadn't I felt the sheer pull of it when I'd seen her that first time in that godforsaken underground cellar? I had been a moron when I thought I would be able to forget her.

"Will you give me a chance?" She asked tentatively, almost as if waiting and expecting the blow that came with rejection. That too surprised me, infuriated me, and I must've not been as successful as hiding it from my face since she noticed.

It was anger purely borne out of the need to know. Someone had done that to her--rejected her before. Some fucking fool, maybe that fucking boyfriend of hers. He deserved more than just my fist in his face. Maybe I should've done more and made sure he remained incapable to experience any lousy fuckings in his future.

He'd hurt her more than I'd realized. He had hurt Alice and she expected it from everyone? It didn't make much sense to me, but I didn't need the sense of it to know how fucking livid it made me.

I pulled my hand away from her hair, cupping her jaw and letting myself have it for a moment, just a moment, knowing Rafael was still waiting on the other side of the front doors and not giving even a single fuck about it.

I breathed her in, pulled her close by the grip under her chin, and pressed my lips to the corner of her mouth, firm enough that it wasn't gentle, but still a chaste kiss.

A soft, needy moan was the only response I got and I almost did it again to hear that sound. Again and again and again. I needed to hear it again if I wished to stay sane.

I could've done better. I could've given her more, so much more than that Soren had given her, gave her everything she wanted from me right then, more until she begged me for more. I could've.

Pulling away, I stared down at the pretty blush spreading across her cheeks. With the pad of my thumb, I grazed the softness of her lips, felt something like fire, a feeling too possessive curling up inside me that said, demanded, needed those lips to be only mine to devour. I needed--

A loud thud followed the series of knocks and I blinked, registering at the back of my head that Rafael must've resorted to kicking the door by now. He could be a moronic child at times.

"Am I going to be let in, you motherfucking cabrón, or did you call me here from the other end of the goddamn city for no reason?" Rafael's frustrated yell was mostly muffled by the doors.

Alice stiffened again and I glared far out at the front doors.

"I...um..." She was alarmingly red in the face and I would've been brought to concern by it if I didn't see her suddenly avoiding my gaze. Shyly. My heart thudded and I frowned at the absurd feeling. Why, I thought with a growl building up in my chest, was she choosing now to be shy? "Why did you..."

She looked back up at me, uncurling her fists from my shirt and carefully patting at the wrinkles. I let go of her entirely and grabbed her wrists, pained. She furrowed her brows in worry. "Why did you call Raff?"

"Do you not want him here?" I asked her instantly. And perhaps he'd throw a fit, which he would do anyway, but I could make him leave if Alice wished.

"No." She shook her head instantly and winced. I frowned and turned over her left wrist, noticing no bandage there. A thin, fresh scar ran up the pale skin of her wrist. It looked a little red as if she'd been pressing on it, which didn't surprise me (even though it made my skin crawl with frustration) since I had noticed that same reckless habit of hers on more than one occasion. I stroked my thumb along her pulse and felt her shudder. "It's all right. You should let him in. He's been waiting for a while."

"He can wait as long as I tell him to."

The concerning furrow left from between her brows and she smiled. Pent-up tension that I hadn't realized I carried vanished from within me and I almost pulled her back against me--to trace her lips, taste the smile there that felt like the goddamn sun itself.

Careful, I reminded myself. I had to be careful.

"Nombre de Dios, open the fucking door, Octavio!" Rafael yelled.

I felt my spine stiffen in alarm, anger, blinding rage--at the name this time--especially when it hadn't even been a whole hour since I hung up on that fucking phone call that had caught me by surprise. I didn't like being taken on by someone as useless and pathetic as Matias, and what he had been telling me, asking from me, hadn't helped either.

Your father wants to talk to you. As if I'd ever let that bastard and my father near me ever again. I would find Santiago, make sure he realized his fucking mistake of ever crossing my path, and hand him over to my father's men. And then I'd never have to hear from him again.

Alice reached out, the smile gone from her lips with an odd, almost knowing look in her eyes. I tensed involuntarily when she touched my arm and it didn't go unnoticed by her. I almost fucking hit my own self when I saw the glow in her eyes dimming with sadness. I had caused that sadness?

I was moving away way before she could've questioned the sudden tension I carried around me, and headed for the front doors.

Rafael looked not the least bit put together, courtesy of a late-night fucking, I imagined, and fairly enraged when I pulled open the doors, greeting him with a scathing glare.

"If I ever hear you speak that name near me one more time, Rafael," I kept my voice low, "I will tear your fucking tongue out with my own hands."

His eyes widened, hands raising in surrender, before squaring his shoulders in anger and pointing at himself. "I was waiting for ages, Oc--Ryder! You puta! Tell me, why did it take you so long to--"

He trailed off, eyes widening when they moved to something behind me. "Alice!"

I begrudgingly closed the doors shut once again when he brushed past me and towards Alice, who must've followed me past the kitchens. I'd reluctantly briefed Rafael over the phone about all that had happened because I unfortunately knew I needed his help. He was the one who collected valuable information from my father's men after all.

I had also made sure to relay all kinds of lines he wasn't to cross if he was going to show up--told him that if he even as much as looked at Alice the wrong way and made her feel even the slightest bits at unease, I was going to make him regret coming here in the first place. He'd agreed, albeit a bit hesitantly, because Rafael was a fool but he never second-guessed my threats.

"Ryder told me what happened." I heard him say before I turned around to watch him fussing over Alice without touching her--which, good for him--else I would've marched right over and decked him in the face. I guess all the events from today had me feeling a tad bit volatile. "Are you all right? Wait, that's a stupid question. ¿Todavía te duele la cabeza? Why do you look so..."

He trailed off, waving his hand near her face, and only then did I notice where this was heading. His eyes stopped darting all around, widened, and flew from Alice to me, somewhere near my torso. Alice was still going with the wide-eyed look and her face only looked just a little red.

I tried to roll off the tension from my shoulders, raking my hands through my hair. Rafael was slow sometimes, but he noticed things where I was concerned without being told to him. He told me that was because we've known each other since childhood. Bullshit is what it was.

Rafael didn't know me. Or else I didn't think he would've still been so loyal to my father.

I stared steadily back at him, daring him to voice out the obvious so that I'd finally have a reason to wring him by the neck, but he only just waggled his brows suggestively at me before choosing to ignore the obvious tension in the air.

He loudly cleared his throat and Alice snapped her gaze to mine with an almost pleading look.

"Wait, what happened to your hand?" Rafael spoke up suddenly, brows furrowing once again just to grab her left hand.

I gritted my teeth and moved towards the pair of them.

"Oh...that's just. It's all right. I'm fine." Alice told him, laughing it off nervously, her eyes darting from him and to me.

Rafael noticed and turned an accusing look at me. "What did you do?"

What did I do? Did he think I'd done that? Did he think I would ever do that, to Alice of all people?

I'd been fucking ready last night to wring Santiago's fucking soul out of him with my bare hands, make him feel the pain he'd been casting out on everyone around him, but not once had I thought he'd go for Alice and hurt her. After which I'd only just been stunned, livid, mad, and trying to keep my head straight when I'd felt Alice's blood trickling down my fingers as I'd cradled her head in my hands.

She didn't know this, she'd been too out of it when she'd gotten injured, but I'd felt it. For the first time in so long, so many years, I'd felt that hot, thickening emotion inside me. Panic. Because for a few seconds, when I'd felt the blood and heard her words slurring together, I'd thought I was going to lose her.

When I've never even had her.

I'd been absolutely fucking furious at myself for not seeing it, for not paying attention when I could've stopped it. I'd been tracking Santiago's moves for years, yet I hadn't thought for a second that I'd be the one to drag Alice into his grasp.

But I was going to make him pay for it. I had even more purpose to go after him than before. I would kill him now and not just because my father had demanded that I do it.

"I didn't do anything." I scowled at Rafael, knocking his hand off which was still holding Alice's. "For fuck's sake, you think I'd do this?"

Alice bristled beside me yet I barely noticed it for once. I could feel the rage prickling at my skin. At Santiago, my father, myself, and at him. He thought I'd hurt her? Why did it even matter what fucking Rafael thought of me? I'd never considered him important enough. His opinions of me didn't faze me.

What mattered was Alice listening to him, and goddamn fucking hell if she even as much as thought I'd hurt her like this, I was going to kill Rafael. I looked over at Alice, alarmed, and it was alarming in itself how badly I needed her to know that I'd rather cut my own hands off before even thinking of hurting her like that. Or in any way. What Santiago did--I wasn't him.

"Well, now that I really think about it... No." He murmured, yet he was still frowning at me.

I scowled at him with the sole intent of murder.

"It was the tracker." Alice broke the silence between us, her voice tentatively hesitant. I clenched my jaw and felt the dreadful ice on my skin, hands itching to rip something off. "The one that was...under my skin. Ryder didn't do anything."

Rafael frowned. "The tracker, yes. I guess we do need to talk."

Talk, I thought sourly. Perhaps I shouldn't have opened the doors and let Rafael stay outside.

I clenched my jaw hard enough for it to hurt, then glanced at Alice. "Come. I'll bandage it for you."

•••••

Alice's POV

Ryder was angry. I was trying to pay attention to what Rafael was saying from across the marble kitchen island we sat around, with all those pretty sunflower bouquets still lying on it, especially since this was the only time I thought I'd be getting any reasonable answers, but I couldn't stop staring at Ryder.

We both were sitting on adjacent black stools facing each other as he methodically cut out a clean stripe of gauze and continued patching up the scar above my wrist.

He'd not once looked up at me and even if his hold was gentle and careful, I noticed the tightening of his jaw and the way he kept throwing glares in Rafael's direction.

I wondered if I'd already lost him. Maybe whatever that had happened before Rafael showed up was a mistake. Maybe he'd just been...indulging me. Maybe--

"Be still." Ryder snapped at me and I stopped squirming, feeling heat crawling up my neck. His fingers stilled and he glanced up at me, lips parting to say something before he made a face that portrayed disgust. "I...sorry."

There was a beat of silence, my eyes widening and Ryder looking away before it was broken by a sharp bark of laughter from Rafael.

"This must be the first time I've heard him say that word!" His shoulders shook as he keeled over with laughter. "What the fuck! Why do you look so constipated saying it?"

Ryder gritted his jaw once again but didn't give Rafael or me the satisfaction of a response. I looked over at Rafael and he shook his head at me, as if telling me it was better not to deal with this lost cause.

Ryder never said sorry to anyone, I imagined. Maybe he bought them flowers too, like those sunflowers he'd bought for me. Rafael was aware of it (he'd not even batted an eyelid when he saw the numerous bouquets on the kitchen counter), and it just made me feel sad. So unbearably sad.

Raff sighed. "What did he say to you, Alice?"

I looked at him and then at Ryder, whose eyes weren't on me anymore, before speaking, "Who?"

"Santiago. The one with that mask on his face. Do you remember him?"

Of course I did. How was I to just erase the horrendous image of that gas mask from my mind? Just remembering it alone made my heart race. Ryder tapped my palm softly, twice, before I turned it over so that he could finish securing the bandage.

"Yeah." I nodded, staring at our hands. "I remember him."

And I'd also pretty much figured out why the name Santiago had sounded so familiar. "I met him at the bar."

Ryder and Rafael both stopped and stared at me.

"What did you just say?" Ryder asked, voice eerily calm.

I swallowed and tried to pull my hand away. "I was drunk. He was following me, like you said with the help of the tracker. He...he must've followed me to that bar. I thought he was just someone--" from my university.

"Can't blame you for that." Rafael shrugged. "You didn't know it was him and you were drunk."

But I shouldn't have been drunk and I should've known. I should've known better. I made stupid mistakes when I got drunk and hadn't I learned enough from them by now?

"You remember the night more clearly now." It wasn't a question, but simply a statement. Ryder was still staring at me. "What did he do?"

I shook my head, looking back down at my hand that he was still holding in his, refusing to let go. What had changed? I was pretty sure he wasn't a fan of touching me a few days ago. Why now?

If I tell you everything I want from you, you might run away, Alice.

"What else did he do that you remember, querida?" He wasn't angry at me, I realized a little belatedly, and the relief and confusion of it made me laugh nervously.

"I don't remember." I shook my head again, feeling the harsh tug of fear in my gut. "He spiked my drink. And I know...I know I should know better and not accept drinks from strangers but I was..." Sad. I'd needed an out. My mother had told me on a phone call that she didn't want to see my face again and I had needed an out.

It made me wonder how my mom would react if she were to know I'd been at the hospital.

I didn't look up at any of them even though I noticed Ryder giving Rafael a menacing look from the corner of my eye, at which Rafael stood up abruptly and said, "Coffee? Anyone needs coffee? I can make some tea for you too, Alice. I've heard peppermint tea works wonders on headaches."

I watched him get up and wander further into the kitchen, opening up one cabinet after another, looking through them as he was accompanied by Gem. It saddened me, embarrassed me that maybe my hopeless self had made Rafael uncomfortable enough to leave, even though I knew it wasn't that. I'd seen Ryder giving him the look, the threat clear in his eyes alone. Knowing still didn't make things easier.

It saddened me because I was no better than what my mom pictured me to be. A complete mess who relied on alcohol, and who was set out to ruin mostly everything.

Ryder gave my hand a small, gentle tug, breaking me out of my morose thoughts. I looked over at him and his eyes were already on me, a blue so cold and mellow and questioning. Asking me to trust him--just trust him.

He didn't know, did he? I did trust him. I had always handed over my trust to everyone so easily. They just had to notice me, make me feel noticed, and I'd give them anything.

There was a reason people didn't stick with me for long.

"You were what?" He asked, and it took me a moment to realize he was asking me to finish speaking what I'd started.

Something in my stomach knotted. "I...I was sad." Would he think I was pathetic to give into goddamn feelings all the time?

His expression clouded over. "Why?"

"Sometimes I just am."

"I know." He nodded, as if he did know and wasn't the least affronted by it. "But why this time?"

It was bizarre that he actually truly seemed like he wanted to know the real answer.

"It was nothing." I tried for a smile, a reassuring smile, but I failed at it.

"If it was nothing, querida, it wouldn't have made you sad."

I couldn't help but notice the way he lowered his voice even though Rafael was standing at a far away distance from us, talking animatedly with Gem as he pulled out two tea bags.

I shook my head again because just the undivided attention from him was making my skin burn in the sweetest way. It was making me think about the kiss again--the kiss that hadn't happened but might've. What would I have done then? Would it just have been one kiss?

I can't have this for long, I thought morosely, so what was the point of getting a taste of it, just to feel its lack for the rest of my life?

I was about to open my mouth and tell him once again that it really was nothing worth pondering over, but then he dragged me close by the bottom of the stool I was sitting on and grabbed the hem of my shirt--his shirt--before tugging at it.

"You wish me to touch you more, don't you?" He questioned, eyes on me all the while. I inhaled a little too fast when I felt his fingers dipping below the hem, softly mapping the bare skin of my waist. Slowly--way too slowly. My heart started racing. "Then I need more honesty from you."

It was absurd. It was a feeling too warm and sweet like honey. He'd asked me for something in return like everyone always did, but he hadn't asked for him. He'd asked me to be honest. It was pure torture. It was a threat. A blackmail? I almost laughed again, but at the giddy rush inside me this time. What even was happening?

I couldn't name it, the feeling inside me. I couldn't because it was strange and bizarre and nothing akin to the need inside me whenever I'd get drunk in a bar and pick a random stranger for the night. I had experience in that. I had no experience in this, whatever this was.

"It really isn't... It isn't much of a big deal." I told him, feeling myself melt--give into the touch, scooting even closer to him until my legs were cradled between his. I swallowed. "It's just my mom called me and I was at this volunteering thing. It was an Orchestra thing our university is doing this year for Christmas. They were rehearsing when my mom called and you could practically hear it on the phone. My mom wasn't really happy when she heard the music being played behind my voice and so she was mad at me. She doesn't like it when I do things like that. She was mad at me because I'd made excuses to skip out on this family camping trip and one of them was me telling her I was busy with assignments. Which I am still. But she heard the violins being played over the phone call and she hates when I..." I shrugged, lowering my voice to a murmur, "I forgot for a moment where I was. It was just those...violins."

Only when I stopped speaking and the silence settled in that I realized I'd probably said a lot more than I should've, was surprised that I'd just come undone so easily before him. He'd slyly blackmailed me that he wouldn't touch me anymore unless I became honest with him, and I'd fallen into it so eagerly.

I blinked and stared at Ryder, expecting a certain smugness in his expression, but finding none. Because this was Ryder, and he only ever let anger show on his face and nothing else. Nothing was as evident as his anger.

"What did she say to you that made you sad?" He asked me after a moment of silence.

Prying each layer of my skin open, it felt like. I shuddered when I felt him still toying with my shirt, not letting go, never letting go.

What did she say to me? That I was hell-bent on ruining my life. That I was a disgrace to her. That I was just like my father--my father that I didn't even remember anything about--my father who hadn't loved me enough to stay.

"She said," I started, choosing the option that was the easiest to say and the one that was the least bit demeaning, "that she doesn't want to see me again until I get my life together."

Another tense beat of silence aside from Rafael's loud animated chatter with Gem. It was so obvious he was indirectly reassuring Ryder that he wasn't listening to our conversation.

"Why."

"What?" I asked him faintly, pulling back a little and his fingers stilled where they held me.

"Why did she say that." A stray dark curl fell over his forehead and my hands itched to reach out. To smooth the tightness around his eyes, the exhaustion lacing the dark blues.

I spoke softly, "Because of the violins." Staring at him, my heart bared in the most vulnerable spot, wondering if he could see, if he could understand. If he would see that it wasn't me. Maybe the problem wasn't me?

Would he tell me that or would he say that I was, like everyone else?

Ryder blinked, gaze fixing on something behind me in a focused look before he looked back at me. He was about to say something, something I was glad he didn't get a chance to say since Rafael interrupted--

"So are we going to talk about Santiago or not?" He sounded halfway frustrated and halfway amused.

Both Ryder and I looked at him (though I jumped a little at the sudden intrusion and Ryder only glared), and I couldn't help but smile helplessly as Gem tried to climb up one of Rafael's jean-clad legs. He placed both hands on his hips and regarded the both of us with raised brows.

"Because I get that this is important too." He continued speaking to me and waved a hand at Ryder, "I know he needs plenty of bonding sessions, but. But we've got pressing matters. Clearly, Ryder, what you'd meant to do went haywire somewhere along the way. Santiago must've caught the scent of you and he must've connected Alice with you, because let's be honest, you're not as discreet around her as you like us all to believe."

I snapped my eyes to Ryder and tried to stifle the smile from my lips this time.

"What's your point?" Ryder scowled at him, once again looking like he wanted to murder Rafael on the spot.

"My point is, that must be the reason why Santiago is coming after Alice. To get back at you."

That may be the reason, I thought, but not the only one. That man in the gas mask--Santiago--had known things about me. Everything about me. I'd done something that I shouldn't have, just like Brooke and all his other victims, and that's why he'd threatened to come after me.

Because he knew things about me that no one else was supposed to know.

Ryder glanced at me and frowned as if he knew what I was thinking, before looking away. "Yes."

"Well then your plan failed, cuaderno." He pointed a teaspoon at Ryder before clinking it against a mug. I winced at the sound.

Rafael placed the tea in front of me. I pulled away from Ryder and faced the counter, thanking him softly and cradling the mug in my hands. It was just the right amount of warm and wonderful.

"I am aware," Ryder spoke stiffly.

Rafael turned his back towards us and poured the coffee into two separate mugs. "While we'd been hoping Santiago would go after Alice's cheating bastard of a boyfriend, he went after the girl the boyfriend cheated with. Who also happened to be what," he turned and quirked a brow at me, "your best friend? That's messed up, Alice."

I blinked, startled, and then snapped my wide-eyed gaze to Ryder's once again, only this time the alarm was like a white blinding flash inside me.

"What?" I asked, looking between them both, heart starting to race. "What? What does that mean? That man in that gas mask was going after Soren?"

Rafael looked from Ryder to me. "Well, he was supposed to. That was the original plan."

I shook my head, frowning in disbelief. "What plan?" When I didn't get an answer from Rafael, I turned towards Ryder. "Whose plan was this?"

Ryder looked confused. "Why does that matter?"

"You were trying to get Soren killed!"

"I wasn't." He shrugged and started putting the things back inside the first aid box. "I was only using your ex-boyfriend as bait."

I shook my head a little more frantically now. "Ryder, that doesn't make it any better."

"I couldn't find it in myself to care much."

"He could've gotten killed!"

"Which is the least of all that he deserves."

Rafael was silent as he turned his gaze from me to Ryder and then back at me.

I inhaled sharply. "No."

Ryder gave me an irritated glance. "I had it all planned out. I wasn't going to let Santiago kill him, if that's so necessary for you to know. Your precious fucking Soren was safe."

A flinch threatened to escape past my lips.

"It wasn't my fault your family members only helped me be more sure about the plan. They were all too ecstatic to spill all that they knew about him--who I was supposed to be--your Soren." He muttered gruffly, "Did you know one of your cousins knows a lot about his cheating bastard ways from one of her friends? She kept asking me if I was fucking someone behind your back, just because she, and everyone else at your house, thought I was Soren."

I could only just stare at him for the first few seconds and only spoke when my tongue didn't feel so much like a heavy stone.

"You...you came to my house that Saturday night just to find out more about Soren?" I whispered. "Not because you wanted to help me?"

To make Soren a bait to someone who was pure danger? Only when I'd said it out loud did I hear how pathetic I sounded even asking that.

Ryder stilled, looked up from the first aid box and at me.

"The plan was to sneak through your phone too," Rafael added.

I looked at him, then at Ryder. "Yeah?" I asked quietly, numbly.

"No," Ryder gritted out, glaring at Rafael.

"Yes," Rafael crossed his arms. "Do not lie to her, Ryder."

"No. Fuck." He shoved the first aid box aside and dragged his hands through his hair. "That's not what I said."

It wasn't. But I'd heard what he'd said instead.

It shouldn't have been a surprise to me. I just didn't understand why I'd expected something else from him. Something that wouldn't hurt, maybe.

Because I am a fool, my throbbing head suggested. That's why.