Two Sides to Every Story (Love Spectrum Romance) (17 page)

BOOK: Two Sides to Every Story (Love Spectrum Romance)
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“And who’s in charge now?”

“Guess.”

“Rafe?”

Raphael laughed. “I think I see the problem. Angela Reed, meet Rafe Remeris.”

“What are you talking about? I know your name already.”

“Ah, my angel, you don’t know the real me.” He smiled. “I guess it’s not all your fault, is it?”

“Should I be scared?”

He laughed then, deep, rich and throaty, before pulling her into his arms. “Maybe you should be. Listen, I’m not trying to get into your pants,” he leered. “I’ve already been there. I’m going for something much more important. I’m trying to get into your heart.”

“You are in my heart.”

“Not as deeply as I want to be.”

“Rafe, I can’t.”

“And that’s what I mean to change. I need you to trust me, trust that I won’t hurt you.”

“It’s not myself I’m worried about. You’re a cop, Rafe; my brother is a con. He thinks I’m going to tell you something that will hurt him. My parents think the same thing. He even went so far as to take me off of his visitors list. You can’t promise me that if you found out information that would harm my brother you wouldn’t use it.”

“How could you think I would hurt anyone that you loved?”

“Rafe, I don’t want to talk about this now. You’re right, we’re in a Spanish restaurant, you ordered in Spanish. I shouldn’t let it bother me.”

“You’re changing the subject, Angel. That’s not what’s bothering you. Let me in. I know how much you love your brother. I know it has to be killing you that he doesn’t want to see you. I remember how we met, you were coming from visiting him.”

“I think the subject needs changing.”

“I don’t.”

“I do, Rafe. We’re still trying to figure us out. Just give me this one night, this one date. You promised. When we’re done here I just want to go for a walk, arm in arm, pretend that we don’t have any problems.”

Rafe refused to let up. Angela was too important to him. He was tired of being her toy. He was a man and they needed to set boundaries now. If they didn’t, when he told her the truth they wouldn’t survive it. And come hell or high water he’d decided that he would tell her when they returned to her apartment.

And he would tell her before they made love. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, keep taking advantage of her in that manner. It would be with her having full knowledge of what he’d done before he made love to her again.

They argued through dinner and continued the argument out into the street. He wasn’t going to let go of it.

Chapter 19

“I can’t believe it; the slut is still with the cop.”

“Why don’t we just pop a cap in her ass?”

“I don’t think her brother would like that.”

“Who cares what he’d like? I think I’ll do him a favor and get rid of his tramp of a sister. She’s not loyal anyway. This cop beats the shit out of her brother and she screws him.”

* * *

Raphael turned away from Angela, wishing he’d paid more attention to the two men who’d eyed them angrily as they passed. His mind had been only on Angela, on the fact that he would soon be telling her something that could tear them apart and keep them from becoming a couple.

Damn,
he thought, his attention now on the men, knowing it was probably too late and feeling immense guilt that he hadn’t done a better job of protecting her. It wasn’t like him to be so unobservant. Now look what it had gotten them. He had only seconds to react but it seemed as if the world slowed down as he made his decision. He could either attempt to tackle the men or he could push Angela down and behind him, out of the way of the bullet that he knew would be coming.

There was no choice. In less than the time it took to take his next breath Raphael yanked hard on Angela’s arm and forced her down on the ground behind him. He blocked her body. Before either of them had a chance to think, Raphael felt the gunshot hit him. It stung like hell. The burning wormed its way through him, making him hot while at the same time chilling his blood. His blood. He noticed the red color staining his chest.

“Shoot her,” the short Black guy said to the taller Hispanic. Raphael fell backwards, turning as he did so, determined to protect Angela.

“You’re crazy, man. That’s his sister. I’m outta here.”

“We should at least kill the cop.”

“We weren’t supposed to kill him. It was only to be a warning.”

Raphael was trying to will the pain away and not having much luck, not with Angela squirming beneath him. “Its okay, baby,” he moaned, softly keeping his eyes on the men, covering her. His main concern was that she not be hit. The Black man sucked in his cheek, alerting Raphael to his intentions, and he turned his head slightly to avoid it. As he’d known he would do, the man spit on him, then turned from him and ran away. Raphael sighed, taking in a painful breath.

“They’re gone,” he said raising his body from Angela, reaching in his jacket for his cell, cursing himself for not having a gun. He’d promised Angela a normal date and it had almost gotten them killed.

Angela was screaming. He had to keep her safe, calm her down. He thought about this woozily as he felt his body slowly going into shock. It still wasn’t safe for Angela and he couldn’t pass out until he made sure she was safe. He flipped open his cell, punched in 911, and managed to say, “Officer down” and the street address. His eyes shifted toward Angela, and followed her gaze. Huge with fear, her eyes were glued to the spot on his chest that was oozing blood. “I’m okay, Angel,” he managed in a shaky voice hardly more than a whisper.

“They shot you,” Angela said in shock. “Why would they do that?”

Tears were raining down her cheeks and she felt disoriented. Then out of nowhere she knew what to do. She screamed out for help, reached for the scarf around her neck and pressed it against the hole. Using her left hand to press the makeshift bandage tightly against Rafe’s wound, she cradled his head with her right arm. She would remain calm, do what she had to do. She was scared as hell but she couldn’t do a thing about that. She knew he saw her fear and probably thought it was for herself. It wasn’t. It had never been. Rafe had gotten shot to save her. And to think that a few minutes before they had been arguing about him being too macho, about him speaking in his native tongue. It all seemed so stupid now. If only she could go back in time. But she couldn’t. Rafe had been shot and she couldn’t undo it.

She watched as his eyes closed and she kissed the lids. She thought of the mother and child in the restaurant and what Rafe had told her about the purest form of love. She finally understood.

“Hold on,
poppi
,” she crooned, “hold on.”

* * *

Angela alternated between pacing and sitting in the hospital waiting room. She’d been questioned by the police several times and each time she’d dissolved in tears as she relieved the incident.

What information she’d given the police hadn’t been of much use and she was aware of that. But now that she’d had time to think, to remember the words, every instinct in her screamed out that her brother was involved. Angela shivered from the fear of knowing. She thought of her parents’ anger, believing she’d thrown her brother over for a man. If she told the police what she actually remembered, she knew without a doubt she would never be forgiven. She would have no family.

Tears continued to pour down her cheeks as she wrestled with the dilemma. She loved Rafe. She couldn’t let the people who’d shot him get away with it. And then the nagging doubts would start over anew. She’d also heard the men say clearly that Rafe had beaten the shit out of her brother. She trembled, feeling ice all the way to her soul.

As she waited for news, she thought about Rafe’s family. She didn’t know anything much about them, she hadn’t wanted to. Now she regretted that decision. They should be here at the hospital. If anything happened to him…She shuddered and felt the sting of still more tears.

Angela saw the doctor coming toward her and prayed harder. “Please, God, please,” she moaned as the doctor stopped in front of her.

“He’s out of surgery and doing fine. He’s going to be okay. Luckily the bullet didn’t hit any major organs,” the doctor said.

Angela couldn’t believe it. For a moment she thought she’d heard wrong. “You’re not just saying that?” she asked. “When the ambulance got to him, he was unconscious.”

“It looked much worse than it actually was.”

Angela looked at the doctor, hearing his words, wanting to believe him, not knowing if she did. “The gunshot sounded so loud. I’ve never heard a gun up close. Was it one of those bullets that I’ve heard about?” She felt the shudder in her inner soul. “Was it a cop killer?”

“Actually I think that bullet is a myth, but I know what you’re asking. I’d guess he was shot with a .22. That’s a small gun,” he explained. “They probably used that particular one because it’s easy to conceal or the fact that it doesn’t make as much noise. Whatever, it was lucky for him.”

“It sounded loud to me.”

“I’m sure it did, but believe me, a larger gun would have sounded even louder.”

“Are you sure he’s going to be okay? I mean, all that blood, and he was so cold.”

“He lost a lot of blood, but he’s going to be fine. Matter of fact, he’s awake. I really shouldn’t let you in but he’s in such a state worrying about you that I think he’ll rest easier if he sees you for a second.”

“I can go in?” Angela asked.

“Just for a second. I don’t want him excited; just let him know that you’re here.”

“How long before I can…before he can talk?”

“Give him a few hours. I want to make sure he’s stable. I’ll leave word with the nurses, don’t worry. Now come on, I want to check on him again anyway.”

Angela walked in the room, her eyes landing on the medical equipment. Rafe’s eyes were closed and his skin color wasn’t normal. She shuddered. It was her fault that he was lying in that bed.

She inched closer, staying behind the doctor until Rafe’s eyes opened. She was at his side in a flash.

“Rafe.”

“Are you okay, Angel?”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” She kissed his cheek, his forehead, squeezed his hand, and glanced in the direction of the doctor.

“Okay now, Officer Remeris, you have to get some rest. She can come back in a little while.”

Rafe squeezed her hand and looked at her. “Are you going to stick around?”

“Of course,” Angela answered, a little embarrassed that he’d even had to ask. “Where else would I go?” She kissed his lips as he drifted off. She looked at the doctor. “I’ll be in the lounge waiting if you need me.”

She returned to the waiting area and paced the family lounge for hours, trying not to think of her brother or his warning. He couldn’t have had anything to do with Rafe’s getting shot, he couldn’t have. But she knew he had. She’d heard the men.

And for the first time in two years Adrian wasn’t her primary concern. Rafe was. All this and her mind kept going back over dinner and the fact that she’d spent two hours fighting with him over what language he spoke.

Angela watched as the room filled with people. She heard them talking in rapid Spanish. Then she head them mention Raphael Remeris and she looked toward them. They had to be talking about Rafe.

“He’s going to be okay,” she volunteered.

She felt the chill as all eyes turned toward her. She saw the question in their eyes and she didn’t know how to answer it. Who was she to Rafe? He loved her, she knew that much, but they didn’t officially have a relationship. What they had was something that had begun because they couldn’t figure out any way to not kill each other. They were on their first date trying to determine what it was they would be.

“Who are you?” a cold feminine voice finally asked.

“I’m Angela Reed. Rafe and I are friends.”

“Rafe?” Angela licked her lips. Maybe they weren’t talking about the same patient. The people gathered in the room appeared to have no idea who Rafe Remeris was.

“Do you mean Raphael?” a man that strongly resembled Rafe asked. “Raphael Remeris?”

“I think so,” Angela answered, feeling embarrassed for the second time that night. “Officer Remeris.”

“I’m his father.” He glanced around the room. “We don’t call him Rafe.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No need to be. Were you with him? What happened?”

Angela looked down when the same sense of panic that had claimed her earlier in the evening returned. “He was shot,” she said hoarsely.

“Do you know who did it?”

“I talked to the police and I gave a description but I didn’t know them.” Her stomach knotted. No, she didn’t know them but she was pretty sure she knew who’d sent them.

“You saw him, Raphael, I mean. Is he really okay?”

“His color wasn’t so good, but the doctor did let me see him. He squeezed my hand and said a couple of words. He’s strong.”

A woman came to stand alongside Rafe’s father. “I’m his mother. You’re the woman he was supposed to bring to dinner, the one who tried to get him fired.”

Angela tried to think of words to say but nothing came to mind. Rafe’s father took his mother by the arm and pulled her away. He was talking so rapidly that she could only catch a word here and there, and that was that Rafe, Raphael, loved her. That she knew. But his family did not. His mother hated her and if she really knew what Angela had done, she’d hate her even more.

She glanced up, grateful that the doctor was back. He was watching her. She glanced around and noticed an older woman smiling at her.

“Ms. Reed, we’re having a heck of a time keeping Officer Remeris immobilized. He’s awake and he’s still worried about you; he wants to make sure you’re okay. Can you go in and see him for a minute?”

“I’m his mother. We don’t know this woman. Why should she go in before us?”

“He wants her and I have to do what’s good for my patient.”

Angela followed the doctor. The hostile looks made the air vibrate. She wanted to tell his family that she was sorry, but sorry for what? That Raphael loved her? That he’d gotten shot trying to save her? That more than likely it was done deliberately because of her brother? How was she to say any of that to them when she could barely admit the truth to herself? Angela pushed open the door to the hospital room, steeling herself for the worst. By now Rafe had had time to remember.

“Are you really okay?” he asked the moment their eyes connected.

She walked toward the bed. She’d expected him to be sleeping for some time yet. She definitely hadn’t thought he’d be in any condition to talk to her, let alone worry about her. As she approached the bed she tried desperately to keep the tears from falling. He was staring at her.

“Did you get hurt?”

Her eyes followed his to the blood on her blouse. “No.” She shook her head, not wanting to tell him that it was his blood. “You scared me,” she said and took his hand.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” Raphael smiled at her, seeing the worry in her eyes, seeing the tears. He didn’t want her to cry. His mouth was dry and his body felt heavy as lead, but in spite of all that, Raphael could never remember feeling such joy. His angel was safe for the moment; that was all that concerned him.

“It’s my fault,” Angela whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“Baby, wanting to go for a walk is not your fault,” he said, deliberately misunderstanding. “How can you be sorry for doing what I asked? I love you, Angel, now stop looking so sad.”

He wanted to rub the tears away. Make love to her, hold her close, keep her safe, but right now he couldn’t. He could hardly keep his eyes open. Angela’s heart was hurting with the knowledge she possessed. She was not going to allow her brother to get away with what he’d done. She trembled as she thought of her parents and what they would do. It didn’t matter. Her gaze swung toward the door as she heard the commotion outside and wondered what was going on. A nurse came in and put to rest her questions.

“His family’s pitching a fit to get in here. Do you mind?” The nurse looked at Raphael. “We can’t keep them out much longer,” she added.

“Let them in or my mom will start throwing things.” Raphael smiled and closed his eyes.

“But everyone can’t stay, not all at once.” The nurse nodded toward Angela. “She needs to leave.”

Raphael opened his eyes. “No.” He shook his head. “No, baby, you stay.” He was gripping her fingers tighter. “You stay, Angel.”

Angela looked down at Raphael, then up at the nurse. “Can I?” She stood motionless as the woman sighed, shrugged her shoulders and left the room.

Something deep inside Angela was telling her this was the wrong move, but she stayed. Raphael’s mother and father came in. The man smiled at her but his mother glared and rushed to the bed. Her tears were mixed with anger, and her Spanish was spoken so rapidly that even if Angela had spoken more Spanish she wouldn’t have been able to follow what his mother was saying.

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