Raphael's Captive

Chapter 15

ONE CAN only take so much, until they completely snap. One can only endure so much crap, before they grow completely frustrated.

Raphael indeed was. 

He was frustrated not with her, but with her antics. Jumping off a f**king cliff? Had she gone mad? 

Every time he remembered the way she launched herself from the edge, his anger boiled in his blood again. On another end, he felt hurt. Was she really that miserable, that she would try to kill herself? Did he misread her attitude all these days? Was she really such a good actress? 

His legs shook as he sat on the chair across from her, in her room back at his mansion. They were both still soaked from head to toe, but Raphael didn’t make a move to get rid of his wet clothes. He felt glued to her room as he watched her unconscious frame. 

After she made that jump, he was only seconds behind her, though she didn’t know.

The water had been rougher than she anticipated, and the waves did its best to her before she even got the chance to resurface. By the time Raphael had made it out himself, she was already unconscious, but luckily still alive. 

He couldn’t forget the immense fear he felt when he couldn’t see her anywhere. He remembered how his calls for her got lost in the splash of the waves against the cliff. He still remembered the tears that threatened his eyes when he couldn’t find her. 

But then he caught a glimpse of her pink dress that only minutes ago, was sailing in the wind as he snapped her pictures. He couldn’t comprehend how he managed to beat the strength of the waves to get to her, but luckily he had.

He still remembered how cold and still she felt against his chest when he finally had her in his arms--unmoving and silent.

They were both lucky to be alive, and when he finally managed to find his way back to his car, placed her in the passenger seat and joined her on the other side, he was mad.

How could she? 

Would she do something like this again? Is his obsession with her really worth her life if she was willing to take it, just to get away from him?

He didn’t think so, and that's what really infuriated him. The very thought of letting her go for good, if that meant saving her life made him angry. He wanted her-- and now he had to consider giving up the one thing he had ever wanted so badly, only because he loved her. 

Could he? 

The sound of sheet shuffling had him snapping his head in her direction, and his heart soared when he heard her groan. She was finally awake. It had been a long two hours. It felt like two days. 

He rose from the chair and slowly walked over to the bed as she began to cough. He held a dust bin to her lips when she began to gag, and he tried to avoid the lightning bolt that ran through his body when she held onto his forearm for support. 

He rubbed small circles on her back as she came back to reality fully. He then brought a cup of water to her lips, but she only took a sip and refused the rest. 

He sat beside her on the bed as she rubbed her temples. As always, his anger towards her subsided when he heard the sound of her voice, but that didn’t mean he still wasn’t upset. 

"You tried to kill yourself," he stated plainly. No introductions, no questions of caring. He went straight for it. 

Tami’s eyebrows drew together in confusion as she finally focused her eyes on him.

She tried to recall the incidents that led to her wet clothes, Raphael's cold eyes and her throbbing headache. She remembered leaving the hotel this morning in Puerto Rico. She remembered when they landed, and how she drove his car so ecstatically.