by Karen Ball
“Enough is enough!”
Spinning on her heel, Kyla marched to the phone, picked it up, and jabbed in a number. It was picked up on the second ring.
“Hello?”
She’d expected a sleepy voice. But Rafael didn’t sound as though he’d been any more asleep than she was. “I have something to tell you.”
There was a pause. “Kyla?”
“Yes, it’s Kyla.” Her heart pounded out a furious beat. “I want you to go tell your pals that it’s not going to work.”
“My pals? What pals? What are you—”
“Your gang buddies. The Blood Brotherhood. The 22s. The Dippity-Dos, for all I care. You tell them I’m not backing down.”
“The 22s are not my pals.”
“Look, I don’t need to hear your denials. You just let them know I don’t scare off. I’ve taken this job and I’m going to complete it. On time!”
“Kyla, what on earth—”
She slammed the phone back in its cradle.
When it rang a few seconds later, she turned her back on it and strode back to bed.
FORTY-TWO
“The truth is sometimes the funniest joke in the world.”
GEORGE BERNARD SHAW
“Then everyone who has eyes will be able to see the truth,
and everyone who has ears will be able to hear it. Even the hotheads will be full of sense and understanding.”
ISAIAH 32:3–4
Rafe’s back was up.
He knew it, just as he knew he shouldn’t go to the construction site until he cooled off.
Tarik looked up from his bowl of cereal when Rafe walked into the kitchen, and his eyes widened a fraction. “I do somethin’ wrong?”
Rafe barely kept the irritation from his tone. “What? No, why?”
“ ’Cuz you look like you’re about to take my head off.” He dug a dripping spoonful from the bowl and chomped it down. “Jus’ wanted to know why before I died.”
Rafe grabbed the mug of coffee he’d just brewed and tossed back a swallow. First his tongue, and then his throat, wailed when the scalding-hot liquid hit.
“Prob’ly shoulda let that cool some, huh?”
He started to bark a response, then stopped. There were others far more deserving of his foul mood than Tarik.
The teen carried his now empty bowl to the sink. “Whatever she did that got you so salty, man, you best chill before you talk to her.”
Good counsel. Which he completely ignored.
By the time he drove to the church, he was ready to chew nails. And spit them out as tacks.
He found Kyla, deep in conversation with her foreman. He waited, aware she didn’t even realize he was there, just barely resisting the temptation to tap his cane on the new wooden floor of the sanctuary-turned-gymnasium. She finished the discussion and looked up. Their gazes collided—and her eyes went wide.
“Rafae—”
“We need to talk.”
“I know. I’m sorr—”
“Now.”
She fell into step beside him, not questioning when he directed them outside and across the street. Away from anyone who might overhear them. Not until they were far enough away to ensure privacy did he face her. “What was last night about?”
“I’ve been trying to explain.”
“Well, try harder.”
A deep red seeped into her cheeks, and he waited. Expecting an explosion. Instead, she looked away and sucked in a breath.
One beat. Two. Then she let the breath out and turned back to face him. “I’m sorry. I don’t blame you for being angry. I would be too if someone treated me the way I treated you last night.”
There were tears in her eyes! Rafe’s well-stoked anger fizzled, even as his concern came alive. “Kyla, please. What’s going on?”
“Someone broke into my home last night.”
The words, spoken in a hushed horror, rocked him. He listened as she went through it all, from waking up to the intruder to staying up all night after the police left. All of which explained not only the crazy call last night, but the exhaustion in the sag of her shoulders, the droop of her head. As he stood there, listening, watching her, one glaring truth speared him.
He was an idiot.
How could he not have realized something was seriously wrong? That Kyla wouldn’t make a call like she had last night without reason. Speaking of which …
“When you called last night, you said something about my pals.”
She passed a hand over eyes so weary it broke his heart. “The Blood Brotherhood. I know they’re not your pals, I was just—”
“Angry.”
“Frightened.” She looked away, fighting whatever emotions still assaulted her. “I was terrified.”
Rage surged through him again, but not for her. This time it was wholly aimed at whoever put that look of fear on this woman’s face. That man, whoever he was, would be sorry.
“Kyla, do you mind if I go by your place? Take a look around?”
She swallowed and shrugged. “Sure, go ahead. But why?”
He wanted to see for himself if the graffiti was signature 22. It seemed too convenient. Why, if the gang was involved, would they leave such a blatant calling card? But he didn’t want to tell Kyla that. Didn’t want to risk her thinking he didn’t believe her.
“I’d like to double-check a few things.”
“Like what?”
He considered a white lie. Saying he wanted to check her security. But only for a moment. “To see the graffiti for myself.”
Her brows drew together. “Because …?”
Rafe shifted. Well, no avoiding it now. “Because it doesn’t make sense. That the 22s would go that far off their turf. Not even to terrorize you.”
The storm he’d feared settled in those beautiful eyes, but only for a moment. Almost immediately something in her features shifted. “So you don’t think it was the gang?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’d like to check it out. I mean, think about it. The 22s are all about their territory. They don’t let others on it, and they don’t drift far from it.”
Doubt painted lines across her brow, and Rafe frowned. “What?”
“I … I don’t know. I just … the officer seemed so sure. Doesn’t it make more sense to trust a seasoned police officer? You are kind of …”
“Kind of?”
The words rushed out. “Young. Okay, there. I’ve said it. It’s simply common sense to trust an officer who’s been on the job awhile rather than a coffee barista barely out of his twenties.”
Barely out of his twenties? She was playing the age card? After all they’d gone through?
“I’ll have you know I haven’t seen my twenties for years—”
“Years.” She rolled her eyes, and he was sorely tempted to tell her she was the one acting like a child. “So you left the twenties behind what? Two years ago? Three? Much more mature. Face it, Rafael, you’re scarcely more than a kid.”
“Better than being forty and acting like you’re ready for the nursing home.”
That stopped her. Cold. A tiny voice told him it was enough. More than enough. Downright mean, in fact. But he was on a roll.
“And I may be younger than you, but at least I haven’t let my heart dry up into some hard, bitter stone. You’re so tied up with fear and regrets you can’t even trust yourself, let alone anyone else. As for God? I don’t see you leaning on Him either.”
“My faith is none of your business!”
Her choked words drew a harsh laugh from him. “Your faith? What faith? The only God I see you relying on is the one you see in the mirror every morning. Look, I know you’ve taken some hard hits—”
“You know nothing about my life!”
He ignored her, in part because he still had things to say. Mostly because she was wrong.
About a lot of things.
“But who hasn’t?” He lifted his cane. “Mira, you think I like having to use this thing? That this
is what I wanted for my life? You think I couldn’t be bitter? Then think again, mija.”
She hugged her arms around herself, and he realized she was trembling. Words caught in his throat, and he looked away. What was he doing?
And how many more times was he going to ask himself that?
Here she was, frightened, terrorized, and all he could do was spit judgment at her. “Kyla.” He reached for her, but she jerked away as though his touch stung even more than his words.
“No!” She took two steps away from him, holding her hands out as a barrier. “Please … just … no. I can’t …”
The rasping words tore at him. He started toward her—when a loud, deep bark sounded, followed by a cheerful voice ringing out.
“Kylie! Rafa!”
They both turned, and Rafe stared, not believing his eyes.
“Annie!”
“Annot!”
He and Kyla spoke together, and Rafe realized too late he’d given himself away. He caught just a glimpse of Kyla turning confused eyes his way—before a petite bundle of energy launched herself into his arms and hugged the stuffing out of him.
Annot. Hugging Rafael.
This made no sense at all.
Admittedly, Annot was as friendly as the summer day was long, but still. To hug a total stranger with such abandon? That went beyond the pale, even for her sister.
“Hey, sis.”
Kyla pulled her gaze from the curiosity in front of her and felt a smile lift her face—and her heart. The first smile she’d really felt in the last few days.
“Avidan!”
Her brother’s arms closed about her, and she leaned into him, grateful for his strength surrounding her. She hugged him. Tight.
“Hey, easy! I need those ribs.”
Kyla stepped back on a shaky breath. “I’m sorry. I’m just so … It’s great to see you.” She turned to Annot, who had slipped up beside her. “Both of you.”
Annot embraced Kyla, then stepped back to control an excited Kodi. When Annot looked at her again, her smile was pure sunshine. “Why didn’t you tell me Rafa was here? I wouldn’t have been near as worried if I’d known you had a Marine watching over you while you were at the site.”
Kyla blinked. Rafa? Annie knew Rafe?
Dan came up, tight-lipped. “Murphy.” He nodded to Rafael. “Been a long time.”
A long …? Kyla stared at her siblings. Had they completely lost their minds?
“Kyla—”
Whatever Rafael had intended to say was lost in the music of Annot’s laughter. “Kylie, it’s Rafe. Rafe Murphy. You remember the Murphys. They lived down the street from us.”
You remember the Murphys …
Kyla felt her face drain of color. Her head spun as though she’d taken a ride on a turbocharged merry-go-round. Her gaze went to Rafael. It couldn’t be …
Annot’s eyes widened at Kyla’s clear confusion, then she looked back to Rafe, who Kyla suddenly realized was quite red-faced. “You …” She turned back to Kyla. “You don’t know who he is. And you”—she turned an intrigued gaze to Rafael—“didn’t tell her. Oh, Rafa.” Annot shook her head. “What were you thinking?”
By now Kyla was downright miffed. “Of course I know who he is. He’s Rafael Murphy, he owns Cuppa Joe’s coffeehouse.” Her words seemed as out of control as her emotions. “He makes marvelous coffee and he loves to say terrible things to me and drive me absolutely insane.”
Annie took Kyla’s arm, but Rafe forestalled whatever explanation she was about to offer.
“No, I should tell her.”
Kyla did something she hadn’t done since childhood. She stamped her foot. “Tell her what? And stop talking about me like I’m not here!”
Rafael straightened. “Like Annie said, my family used to live down the street from you.”
But only one family lived down the street. A family she’d sworn to forget. A family she’d thought she would join. Prayed to join.
A family that destroyed her life.
Suddenly the pieces fell into place.
Of course. “Rafa.”
Rafael inclined his head. “That’s what Annie”—those dark eyes—eyes that had blazed with anger, eyes that burned with other emotions she hadn’t dared define—“and you used to call me. I’m Berto’s brother.”
Berto.
No. Oh, no. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t.
But it was.
The name she’d banned from her mind hit Kyla with the force of a jackhammer. “You …” Long-buried memories surged to the surface, struggling to break free. Kyla did the only thing she could.
Shove them away using the one emotion more powerful than her pain.
Anger.
FORTY-THREE
“Passion, it lies in all of us, sleeping … waiting … and though unwanted … unbidden … it will stir … open its jaws and howl.”
JOSS WHEDON
“The discerning heart seeks knowledge.”
PROVERBS 15:14 (TNIV)
Anger. Betrayal. Sorrow.
Annie watched, amazed, as these emotions touched her sister’s features, colored her voice. Listened as she lit into Rafe, accusing him of everything from lying to causing global warming.
Okay, that last one was an exaggeration. But not by much. To say her older sister had lost it would be an understatement. And that told Annie more than anything else could have.
Dan moved as if to intervene in the heated exchange between their sister and Rafe, but Annie stopped him with a hand on the arm. “I think they need to work this through.”
He glanced from them to Annie. “If they don’t kill each other first.”
She smothered a smile—no way she wanted Kylie to think she was enjoying all this. She leaned into her brother and pursed her lips. “So this is what it’s like.”
Dan cocked his head. “What’s that?”
“Watching two people in love doing everything they can to not admit that’s where they are.”
Dan’s eyes widened a fraction and he turned back to their sister. “In love? With Rafael Murphy?”
Annie heard the hesitation in his tone. “Dan, Rafe isn’t Berto. He’s a good man.” She angled a look up at him. “A really good man.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, just watched the two in front of them. “I thought you said Kyla was practically engaged to this Mason guy.”
True enough. But come to think of it, Kyla hadn’t said anything about Mason the last few times they’d talked. Of course, she hadn’t said Mason was out of the picture either.
“Well, I’ll tell you one thing.”
Annie inclined her head. “What’s that?”
“Your buddy Rafe had better be a strong man.” He shook his head. “Or dear Sister-Mommy is going to eat him alive.”
“Annot!”
Annie jumped, and found Kyla glaring at her. “Are you two ready to go?”
“We’re not finished here.”
Kyla turned to Rafe. “Oh, yes we are.” She aimed a hard stare at her siblings, Sister-Mommy in full view. “You two, meet me at my place.”
Not waiting for a response to her overly harsh command, she walked away. Annie looked from her to Rafe … and grinned.
She’d known something was going on with her sister. But she would never, in her wildest imagination, have guessed it was this interesting!
FORTY-FOUR
“The final mystery is oneself.”
OSCAR WILDE
“Then will the eyes of the blind be opened and the ears of the deaf unstopped.”
ISAIAH 35:5 (NIV)
Look, if she doesn’t want to talk with him, I don’t think she should.”
Annie shifted in the car seat to face her brother as he drove. Why was he so angry? “Of course she needs to talk with Rafe—”
“Why? It’s not like Kyla has any reason to trust anyone in that family.”
Ah. So that was it. “Dan, Berto is the one who hurt Kyla, not Rafe. Rafa … h
e’d never do anything to hurt her.” She laid a hand on her brother’s tense arm. “He loves her. Has since we were kids.”
The look Dan gave her would have given a bonfire frostbite.
Annie settled back in the seat, a sudden thought niggling at her. “Is there more to this whole Berto thing than I know?”
A veil dropped over Dan’s features. “What do you know?”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Neither is that.”
Annie pulled her feet up to rest them on the dash, only to have her brother swat at her ankles.
“Do you mind? I’d rather not have your footprints on my glove box.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “Whatever you say, Brother-Daddy.”
“Ha-ha.”
“Okay, fine. What do I know about Berto Murphy and Kylie? They dated. She loved him. He dumped her and broke her heart.” She arched her brows. “Anything I forgot?”
For a moment she didn’t think Dan was going to answer. “No. That pretty well sums it up.”
Her brother wouldn’t lie to her. And yet … she had the distinct sense he wasn’t telling her everything. She settled back into her seat. Dan could be a regular Fort Knox when it came to keeping people’s secrets. That had worked in Annie’s favor in the past, but now? Well, Kyla was her sister, for Pete’s sake!
“Come on, Dan. What gives?”
He kept his eyes on the road, ever the diligent sheriff’s deputy. The man never ate or drank while driving, and cell phones? Not on your life. He said they were the worst thing to happen to driving. If he’d said it once, he’d said it a gazillion times: “More accidents happen every year from people talking on their cell phones while driving than happen as a result of driving drunk.”
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
He hesitated. Then lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug. “It’s not my story to tell.”
Ah ha. So there was more to it than she knew. Fine. Then she’d just go to the source. “Do me a favor, okay?”
“What’s that?”
“Give Rafe a chance.”
This time Dan did look at her. Just for a moment. “You’re sure he loves her.”