Page 83 of Endlessly Raphael

“No. That’s where Hollywood mostly gets it right.” He rubs his thumb across my bottom lip. “I was born in 1695 in a village near Madrid.”

I open my mouth to speak, but I’m stunned speechless.

“My mother died when I was only three. My father, bereft from his loss, drank away his days and nights and then stopped coming home altogether. I was alone, begging for food from the other villagers. At fourteen, a man approached me in the market and offered me a warm bed and food. All he wanted in return was my body. I had nothing else to give him, so I said yes.”

My eyes well with tears as he tells his story. Rapha has a faraway look in his eyes, as if he’s reliving it all in his mind.

“Gustavo took me in. I shared a room with three boys and two girls my age, and we worked the markets of Madrid. I had to give him most of my money, but I had a safe place to sleep.”

“Were you happy?”

“No. No, but I didn’t expect to be. I was just surviving. Gustavo often sampled his own goods, and if I close my eyes, I can still smell him. He turned my stomach, always smelling of stale wine and pork mixed with sweat. I only refused once. He beat me so badly I couldn’t work for days.”

“Oh, Rapha.”

“When I was twenty, Gustavo died of a heart attack. I went out on my own looking for respectable work. I was willing to do anything, but no one would have me. I was tainted.” He shrugs one shoulder. “So back to turning tricks for me. I was handsome and sought after, which allowed me to make a decent living. I could pay for my own room. It was shabby and it smelled, but it was mine alone.”

“I can’t imagine.”

“It was a very different world than the one we have now, but in some ways so similar. The poor and disadvantaged are not welcomed by those with more.”

“True.”

“My life changed one day when the prince and his entourage came to town,” Rapha continues. “I caught his eye and he summoned me to the palace. He bathed me and gave me fresh clothing. I became his lover.”

“The prince of Spain?”

“Yes. The poor closeted prince with a pretty wife and a desperate need to be dominated. We snuck around for months. He would even lower himself to visit me in my room.”

“Did you love him?”

Rapha scoffs. “No. I found him unpleasant and sad, but he paid me well for my discretion. He bought me gifts of food and clothing, perfume, and finer sheets. In return, I slapped his face and fucked him brutally.”

I swallow hard. “I know that was, like, three hundred years ago, but fuck that guy.”

Rapha brushes his fingers across my cheek. “You’re jealous of a long-dead prince? My darling, if you had existed, I would have never touched another.”

“Okay, that’s fair. Did you stay with the prince forever?”

“No. He invited me to the palace while the king and queen were off to Portugal. Except they didn’t leave as planned. His father walked in on us.”

“Oh no. What happened?”

Raphael tears his gaze away. “He ordered his guards to beat me. The prince stood by and stoically watched. His father told him he would release me if his son wanted to take his place and admit he was an abomination. The prince remained quiet.”

“Yeah, like I said, fuck that guy.”

Raphael shifts his gaze back to my face. “I was imprisoned that day, bruised and broken. I knew I would never be released. I would die there and I hadn’t turned thirty yet.”

“Fuck,” I whisper, stroking his arm.

“And then Yves appeared.” His tone changes, lifting with relief and happiness. “Like a dark angel, he secured my release and took me to his home where I met Eros, Syn, and Midnight.”

“What about Thorn?”

“We hadn’t found him yet.” He smiles. “Yves offered me a life I couldn’t have imagined existed, but there was something so compelling about him. Not to mention he had rescued me.”

“How did he find you there?”