Page 80 of Betrayed

And time fucking stops.

He steps out of the car like a shadow—And every breath leaves my body.

His gaze locks on mine.

It’s Rafe.My Rafe.

The man who pulled me from a burning warehouse. The one who stood at my side while Carlos sold us all out.

A dark coat, a shock of brown hair, and those rare, striking, amber-colored eyes of his. There’s a long, straight scar runningdown the side of his cheek that wasn’t there the last time I saw him. It’s light, like it healed a long time ago.

Under the sleeves of his coat, there are scars I have memorized. Ones he wears because of me. Ones from him pulling me out of the fire I never should have been in.

“Lucian,” he says.

I don’t answer right away. My brain scrambles, trying to bridge the past to the present.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” I say at last, voice low.

He smirks. “I thought the same about you.”

Rafe walks up the steps, slow and measured. I don’t move.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he says.

“I feel like I have.”

“We did lose touch.”

He flashes that cocky grin of his. “I have to say, I thought you might put the pieces together. Rafe, Raphael?”

“I should have known it was you.” I shake my head in disbelief. “I’m sorry. I’ve been preoccupied. Why didn’t Bayne say something?”

“I asked him not to. Thought I’d wait till things calmed down and we could speak in person.” Rafe/ Raphael stares up at the cottage. “We stayed here together, a lifetime ago, when we had to hide from Carlos. Have you forgotten?”

“God no. I thought of you and our time here together as soon as Bayne suggested this place. I should have figured it out.”

“Well, you got sidetracked by a woman.”

“Possibly.” I grin.

“I volunteered to drive you today. Thought I should give you a proper hello. And goodbye.”

“I’m so glad you did.”

He stands a foot away now, towering like he used to, steady as hell.

“You look different,” I mutter.

“Life does that,” he says. “So does betrayal.”

We both silently curse Carlos.

I glance toward the house.

“She’s inside,” I say.

“Erin,” he says. “Yeah. I’ve been briefed.”