Ruthless Savior - Julia Sykes Page 0,84

perfect.” I stood to brush a kiss over his cheek. “You’re so good to me. I love you, Raúl.”

I made the declaration just as much for his benefit as Gabriela’s. I wanted my family to know how well Raúl treated me, and how much we loved each other. I wanted them to be happy knowing that we were together.

More than anything, I longed for my father’s blessing. I was thrilled to be home, but I would have to gently break the news that I intended to live with Raúl permanently. I couldn’t bear it if my father disapproved. I couldn’t hurt him like that again.

As though summoned by my thoughts, my father’s voice called out from inside the house. “Gabriela?”

Like the sensation of jumping off a cliff, my stomach dropped with an equal mix of thrill and fear. My sweet little sister had welcomed me home with open arms. What if my father felt differently? He’d loved my mother so much, and I was the reason she’d been taken from him forever.

“We’re out here!” Gabriela called, her voice soaring with unmitigated joy.

Papá appeared at the back door, with Mario’s tiny hand caught firm in his grasp. The achingly familiar sight of the weather-beaten, craggy face of the man who’d raised me with his own brand of stern love made my breath harden to stone in my lungs.

He froze in the open threshold, his jaw hanging open to reveal his slightly crooked bottom teeth. His shocked silence seemed to last an eternity, and my chest began to burn from my inability to draw in oxygen.

Marisol. His lips shaped around my name, but no sound came out.

Faster than I could blink, his stocky frame barreled into me, and his sinewy arms closed around my back to crush me against his chest. He buried his face in my hair, and his entire body shuddered on wracking sobs.

“Mija…” He held me as though I was a miracle, a fantastical presence that was too wonderous to be real.

My own throat was too ravaged and sore to manage any more sobs, but tears flowed down my cheeks in rivers of joy and pain. “Papá. I’m here. I’m home.”

After a long while, he pulled back just far enough to drink in the sight of my face, and I studied his familiar features with matching desperation, re-memorizing each deep wrinkle around his shining eyes and grinning lips.

“How?” he breathed, awestruck. “How are you here? I thought…”

He pressed a kiss against each of my cheeks, one after the other. “My Marisol.”

The lump in my throat trapped my response, but eventually, I managed to speak. “Raúl brought me back home.”

I gently extricated myself from my father’s hug, so I could reach for the man I loved. His warm, solid presence enfolded me in the calming bubble that surrounded him, and I leaned into him with a shaky sigh.

His big hand settled on my lower back, silently supporting me.

“Papá, this is Raúl. He saved me. He’s made it possible for me to come home.”

My father blinked away the tears that still obscured his vision. “Saved you?” His mouth tightened with renewed anguish. “Where have you been, mija?”

I held my hand out to him, guiding him to one of the garden chairs. “Let’s sit, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

The abridged version, at least.

We all settled down in our own chairs, even though Raúl looked like he might crush the aging furniture with his massive body. A fond smile curved my lips, and I allowed myself to relish the absolute, impossible perfection of the moment. I had my family back, and I had Raúl; my own personal miracle.

After a few minutes of cautious skepticism, I managed to coax Mario to sit on my lap. The fact that my four-year-old baby brother barely remembered me sent a pang through my heart, but it quickly healed. I would be here for him from now on. For the rest of his life, we’d have constant contact. He would never forget me again.

I hugged him tight while I told my family the carefully curated version of my arduous journey and my relationship with Raúl.

My father’s slight frown indicated that he was well aware that I was softening the jagged edges of my story, but he didn’t press for details. He respected that I didn’t want to share them, and he probably didn’t want to hear them. Neither of us wanted to add another layer of pain to all the agony we’d been through.

When I finished,