Wild Hearts Series: Love In The Crossfire

Facing Reality

Standing in the open parking space of the restaurant, I am lost in a haze of contemplation when the buzzing of my phone shatters the silence. I pull the device from my coat, staring at the screen as it vibrates in my hand. I need to answer, but I can’t find the courage to speak to Raphael.

He and Nana have been waiting for over an hour. It is past 8:00 PM, and though I arrived twenty minutes ago, I haven't been able to force myself to walk through those doors. No, I can't, I whisper under my breath, trying to convince myself to keep the attack a secret. I refuse to ruin my second mother’s 65th birthday with my own trauma.

The phone continues to buzz. Geez... this guy really knows how to pressure me, I think, my nerves fraying. I feel adrift, completely unmoored. I am not composed; I am trembling from the adrenaline of the k********g attempt. One look at my face is all it will take for Raphael to know something is wrong, and I cannot bear the thought of him carrying that guilt.

"So... since when did you learn to ignore my calls, Camila?"

Raphael’s deep voice cuts through the night, making me jump. I turn to see him standing nearby, phone in hand, his gaze sharp. Panic spikes in my chest; I hang up the call and rush toward him, desperate to offer an excuse.

"Raphael! You’re here," I say, my voice jittery. "I was just about to go inside, I was—"

"I’ve been standing a distance behind you for three minutes, Camila," he interrupts, his tone low and searching. "Watching you, calling you, waiting for you to pick up. You didn't. So tell me, Dr. Fuentes—what is the matter?"

His eyes scan my face. I reach up to fix my disheveled hair, hoping to hide my expression, but he stops me, his hands firm on my forearms.

"Why are you acting like this? You’re nervous. I know something bad happened, and you aren't going to deny it." His hunter-blue eyes seem to strip away my defenses.

(s**t, he’s got me,) I think.

My heart hammers against my ribs. There is no point in lying; Raphael is a human lie detector, and he has known me since I was a child. I let out a shaky breath. "Let go of me first, okay?"

He releases me immediately. I take a moment to collect my thoughts. I need to tell him the truth because he is the only one who can protect me, but I have to be careful—I can’t let him know about Lucas yet. I don't want him to think Lucas is connected to these men. "Is Nana okay?" I ask, my voice barely audible.

Raphael nods, softening slightly. "She’s inside, waiting. Don't make her wait any longer."

"Of course," I whisper. I struggle to find the words, but Raphael gives me a gentle nudge.

"Who did you encounter, Camila?"

"Do you happen to know anyone named... Alejandro?"

Raphael’s eyebrows furrow instantly, and my heart thuds like a drum. He knows that name. "Judging by your expression," I continue, "you're familiar with them, aren't you?"

He ignores the question, his voice hardening into an interrogation. "Where did you hear that name?"

"He said it himself."

"Who, Camila?"

I take a steadying breath. "Someone tried to kidnap me in the hospital parking lot. That was the name he mentioned."

Raphael’s face darkens, a shift so sudden it’s chilling. "Who are these people? Do you know them? What do they want from me?"

"Are you hurt anywhere?" His composure shatters, replaced by a raw, panicked urgency I’ve rarely seen. "How did you escape?"

I tell him the truth, partially. I describe the struggle and the intervention of the hospital security, but I leave Lucas out of the story entirely. I need to solve this mystery on my own terms.

"Is it the same guy I saved you from before?" he asks, his voice tight.

"No," I clarify. "That was a different person."

"I swear, I will kill anyone who tries to harm you again," he snarls, his jaw set in a line of lethal intent.

His words trigger a memory: a ten-year-old girl, an abandoned heiress, and a fifteen-year-old boy promising to guard her with his life. That promise has kept me safe for fifteen years, but now that the danger has returned, I am terrified of what it will cost Raphael to keep me protected. I cannot let him be hurt on my account.

"It was my fault," Raphael mutters, his shoulders slumping. "If I hadn't slacked off, you wouldn't have experienced this. I failed you."

Watching him blame himself is agony. The guilt hits me so hard I burst into tears, wrapping my arms around him. "Don't you ever blame yourself, Raphael! I am the one who dragged you and Nana into this mess. My lineage, my family—they are to blame. Do you understand?"

"Neither of you is to blame, my dear children."

A raspy, emotional voice interrupts us. We jump apart to find Nana Eloisa standing there.

"Mom—"

"Nana—" we say in unison.

"It’s cold, Mom. You should have waited inside," Raphael says, walking toward her, but Nana cuts him off with a wave of her hand.

"If I had stayed inside, I wouldn't have heard the truth. I wouldn't have known Camila’s life is in danger." Her eyes are filled with an ache that worries me deeply. "It is time, Camila. You must remember everything. You must revisit the story of your past to understand what is happening now. You need to remember who the people in your life really are."

I am stunned. I open my mouth to ask for clarity, but she holds up a hand to stop me.

"Save your questions for later. Let’s go home; we need to talk in private."

"Can we at least celebrate your birthday first, Mom?" Raphael asks.

"Yeah," I chime in, desperate for a moment of normalcy. "We have the reservation."

Nana looks at me, a small, sad smile playing on her lips. "You will cook pasta at home, and Raphael will handle the barbecue."

We don't argue. We agree instantly, heading home to unravel the secrets that have finally caught up with us.