Chapter 16 - The Scar He Never Showed
That night, Eleanor found Rafe alone in the lodge kitchen.
He wasn't drinking.
He wasn't pacing.
He was sitting in darkness with both hands around a cold coffee mug.
Eleanor turned on one small lamp.
Rafe didn't look up.
"Marcus confirmed it," he said. "Your father's medical records are consistent with chronic low-level carbon monoxide exposure."
Eleanor sat beside him.
"Then Victor murdered him."
"Yes."
"And Celeste helped hide it."
"Yes."
Silence.
Eleanor expected grief to come as tears.
Instead she felt empty.
Rafe reached for her hand.
She let him take it.
"I keep thinking about the last conversation I had with Dad," she whispered. "He asked if I wanted to go with him to the factory. Celeste had scheduled some charity lunch for me and told me showing up covered in grease would embarrass everyone."
Rafe listened.
"I chose the lunch."
"You couldn't have known."
"I know."
She breathed slowly.
"But I still hate that I chose it."
Rafe lifted her hand to his mouth.
His lips touched her knuckles.
"No more stolen days."
She looked at him.
"What?"
"No more giving dead people the days that belong to us."
The words settled inside her.
Eleanor studied his face.
"Take off the patch."
Rafe went still.
"You don't have to."
He looked away.
"No woman has seen it since the hospital."
"I'm not asking as a woman."
"What are you asking as?"
"Your wife."
Something vulnerable crossed his face.
Slowly, Rafe reached behind his head.
He unfastened the strap.
The patch came away.
Eleanor had expected damage.
She hadn't expected how much.
His left eye was gone. Deep scar tissue crossed the socket and cheek, disappearing into his hairline. Surgical reconstruction had repaired the bone but could not erase what the bullet had taken.
Rafe stared at the table.
"That's the part photographers never get."
Eleanor's throat tightened.
"Look at me."
He didn't.
She touched his jaw.
"Rafe."
His remaining eye lifted.
"What do you see?" he asked.
The question was almost hostile.
But Eleanor heard the fear underneath.
She traced the edge of the scar carefully.
"A man Victor couldn't kill."
His breath caught.
"That's not what most people see."
"I'm not most people."
"No."
His hand settled at her waist.
"You absolutely aren't."
Eleanor leaned closer.
Their first kiss was nothing like the arrangement that had created their marriage.
It wasn't payment.
It wasn't obligation.
Rafe gave her every opportunity to stop.
She didn't.
His mouth touched hers softly.
Almost cautiously.
Eleanor slid her fingers into his hair and kissed him again.
Harder.
Rafe made a low sound deep in his chest.
Then pulled back.
"Tell me if I move too fast."
"You aren't."
"Tell me anyway."
"I will."
He kissed her forehead.
For several minutes, they simply sat together.
Then Eleanor noticed something on the counter.
Blueprints.
Lake Lure.
Rafe followed her gaze.
"Marcus found Victor's resort."
"You were planning to go without me."
His silence answered.
Eleanor stood.
Rafe sighed.
"Before you start—"
"I thought we settled this."
"We did."
"Apparently not."
"This isn't a railroad switch. Victor will have professional security."
"And Project Blue Ridge is my father's design."
"I can recover it."
"And if you don't?"
His expression hardened.
"You think I'd rather become a widow because you decided protecting me meant excluding me?"
That stopped him.
Eleanor stepped closer.
"We do this together."
Rafe looked at the blueprint.
Then at her.
"Together."
She nodded.
"Good."
He took her hand.
"But you're wearing body armor."
"Fine."
"And staying behind the tactical team."
"We'll negotiate."
"Eleanor."
She smiled.
Rafe shook his head.
Yet his fingers tightened around hers.
Tomorrow they would prepare for Victor.
Tonight, however, there were no enemies.
No contracts.
No Celeste.
May you like
No ghosts.
Only two scarred people sitting in a quiet mountain kitchen, discovering that neither of them needed to hide anymore.
