Chapter 77: Principessa
- RAYA -
Once we get back to the house, Dex helps me off of the motorcycle. The night has reached its full darkness, and stars are twinkling overhead with the occasional passing cloud, but the moon is nowhere in sight.
"Ow. My legs are sore. How do you do that for a long time?" I groan with a small laugh and rub my thighs.
"Are you okay?" His eyebrows tilt upward in that adorable expression that makes me want to grab him and squeeze his cheeks and rub his beard like he’s a friendly canine rather than the sexiest man alive.
"Yes, I’m okay," I laugh. "I’m going to take a shower in back and grab some things first. Is that okay?"
"Of course it’s okay. You’re welcome to do whatever you’d like. Take your time."
"Okay," I smile shyly. "I’ll see you in a little bit?"
"Sounds good," he smiles back, and I head around the side of the house toward the back feeling like this has been an absolute unreal night so far. If it weren’t for the soreness in my side and legs, I would be convinced this was a dream.
After I take a shower and begin grabbing all the necessary clothes and makeup for the morning when Liz will be coming by to talk about her Verdure line, it feels like I’m preparing for an innocent sleep over. I suppose last night was a sleepover as well, but that was prompted by something much different. Now there is probably every reason to feel secure in the guest house and no real reason to stay with Dex other than the fact that... I want to. And he invited me.
Glancing at my phone, I realize I’ve missed several texts and two calls from Rory. There are also a bunch of unread messages in the group text from Cricket and Jay. When I click on Rory’s name, a string of ever-increasing hysterical bubbles greets me.
’How are you?’
’Hello?’
’Why are you not answering?’
’Seriously, Raya! You were in an accident and are recovering from a major operation in a strange man’s house. How can you not answer me right now?!’
’Fine, don’t answer me. I’m going to bed and getting on the first flight out of here in the morning to come see if you’re alright. Dad doesn’t even know! I tried asking him, and why the hell he hasn’t been checking on you, I have no idea. This Patty woman can’t be worth neglecting his daughter.’
’What else can you possibly be doing right now?! Call or text me when you get this. I know you think I don’t worry, but I do.’
"I just talked to you earlier," I chuckle to myself and start typing a reply.
’Sorry to make you worry. I’m fine. Have you ever considered anxiety meds?’
As soon as I push send, my phone rings and my sister’s face pops up.
"Seriously?" I groan upon answering. "Isn’t it like four in the morning there?"
"I just had to check and make sure it was you texting me back and not some psycho killer trying to keep me from worrying," she replies, and she doesn’t sound tired at all.
"Rory, are you on drugs? Should I be worried about you?"
"Why? Because I’m worried about you?" She scoffs defensively.
"Because you’re wide awake at four in the morning, and you’re having a panic attack about me even though I talked to you earlier today," I groan, rubbing my face.
"It occurred to me that we didn’t actually talk earlier. Anyone could have your phone and be texting me," she replies.
"Seriously Roar?"
"Yes! Do you not listen to any true crime podcasts? That’s amateur stuff."
"Well, it was me. You can relax. When are you coming home?"
"We fly back in on Sunday. When is your appointment?"
"It’s Monday morning."
"Perfect. Just send me the address of this fancy, highly suspicious rich person’s house you’re staying at, and I’ll pick you up."
I frown at that characterization but decide not to address it. She’s clearly having some trust issues.
"Are you at least having fun when you’re not worrying about me?" I ask instead.
"Yeah. It’s been neat. I’ve got a lot of material for my blog, and Westin’s picked up a lot of stuff to try at work. Most of the food has been amazing, of course."
"Have you run into anyone famous?"
"Like who?" She asks.
"I don’t know. Like Henry Cavill?"
"Henry Cavill is American!"
"No he’s not. He lives in London somewhere," I chuckle.
"Okay, so he’s an American living in London, then."
"No, he’s not. He’s not American," I laugh. "How do you not know this? He’s Henry Cavill!"
"Are you sure? Why doesn’t he have an accent? He sounds American to me."
"Okay, so the answer is you haven’t run into him," I laugh. "Got it."
"Nope, no one famous. But lots of people with British accents. Westin has started to adopt one, too. I think he may have been British in a past life."
"That doesn’t surprise me for some reason. Okay, go get some sleep so you can enjoy your vacation."
"You’re sure you’re fine?" She asks, as if speaking to me for the last several minutes hasn’t been proof enough.
"Yes, I’m fine!"
"They have AI that can simulate people’s voices now that I think about it..."
"Rory! What are you talking about? I’m fine!" I exclaim. This was funny and kind of sweet, but now she’s just being ridiculous. "You have never been like this before. What is going on?"
She’s quiet on the other end for a few moments, and something about the prolonged silence makes my heart start to ache.
"I just... I can’t lose you, too Auraya," she says softly, and then she sighs with so much emotional weight in that one sound that it takes any teasing words I might reply with right out of me. I’m left staring into the distance of memories.
"You’re not going to lose me," I tell her, and for once I feel like the older sister again. "Get some rest. I’ll see you Monday."
"Okay. I love you, Raya."
"Love you too, Roar."
When we hang up, I stare at the phone. Rory has never been emotional like this. When Nana died, I was the one who lost it. She stayed strong. She barely even cried. It’s like my sister has a place where she’s able to tuck all of those difficult emotions away and keep going, and I was always envious of that. But maybe she has just never dealt with those past events properly.
I sigh deeply and gather my things, some of the luster of this night with Dex gone now with the heaviness of memories that have swelled to the surface. It seems like past loss is a theme right now for some reason. And it makes me wonder about the old woman who lost her life last week right in front of me. I need to find out more about her.
It’s something that I should have already looked into, but I haven’t wanted to think about the accident at all. Avoidance is a powerful defense, but it’s also guaranteeing that any unresolved feelings I have about it will resurface at some point—just like things seem to be resurfacing for Rory. I wonder if she ever even allowed herself to grieve when Nana passed.
When I finally make my way out of the house and lock up behind myself, Dex is waiting by the pool.
"Oh, hi," I say, surprised to find him out here. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah. Is it weird that I was just worried?" He scrubs a hand over his face, which has the most adorably embarrassed smile as his eyes dart suspiciously around the yard.
"You were worried?" I chuckle, wondering what in the world is going on with people being concerned for me tonight. "But the locks and security..."
"I know," he laughs and rubs the back of his neck. "I just was thinking about the possibility that someone might come back thinking they could get in again. I didn’t want you in an uncomfortable position or having another reason to be afraid."
"Oh." I pull my things closer to my chest and look around at the shadows that have engulfed the yard. There are white lights strung over the back patio of the main house, giving it a romantic glow. But out here it’s dark. "I hadn’t thought of that."
"And now I’ve made you think of it," he sighs. "I’m sorry. Come on, principessa."
Dex crosses the distance left between us with his hand outstretched, and my heart does a little flip when he grabs my hand and kisses it. It doesn’t escape my attention that he’s also scanning the darkness with a threatening glare like he’s silently warning anyone away who might be lurking.
"Principessa?" I repeat quietly as we walk toward the light and past the pool sparkling with its reflection.
"Princess," he smiles. "It’s Italian."
"You are the only one who I would ever be okay with calling me princess," I laugh softly.
"Good. I want to be the only one who calls you that," he winks and opens the back door, and I’m not sure my heart is going to survive Dex Mobius. I’m really starting to wonder if it won’t.
