Page 15 of Little Deaths

Afterthatcasual confession, Donni felt like she was going to need several more glasses of wine to get through this meal. She’d already given up on the food, pushing her plate away. It made her Love bracelet rattle against the table and Rafe looked at it, for so long that she wondered, a little giddily, if he was planning on stealing it.

Her head was spinning so violently that it felt like parts of her were being pulled free. “How?” she asked, too drunk to care how her questions might be perceived.

Rafe looked away from her bracelet. “How what?”

“How haven’t you—?”

“Ah.” He let out a rough laugh. “I suppose I got used to taking care of myself.”

She flinched at that, as he must have known she would have. Another dig. But that had been his own fault, the sneaking around. The lying. She thought of those times she had woken up in the middle of the night, covered in sweat, her flesh crawling. The strange, unexplained marks. The heat pulsing between her thighs.

The hole in her wall that kept reappearing.

“Not very good with the ladies, then,” she said, a little meanly.

“No.” Rafe reached for the flowers and snapped off one of the speckled orange blossoms. He tucked it behind her ear. “But I have you to take care of me now.”

She stood up too quickly, breathless and disturbed. The table slid away and she flung out an arm for the chair and somehow ended up grabbing Rafe instead. The hard muscle of his arm tensed, but then his other arm came around her, bandying her close, even as he reached around her to pick up his jacket and her purse.

It was foolish to bring him back, she thought.It’s like inviting a vampire into the house.

“Give that back.” Even to her own ears, the words were noticeably slurred. “Give me my purse.”

He gave her his coat instead, reaching over to sweep up the flowers. It cut a charming picture of old-world gallantry, Donni thought sourly. Their pretty young waitress was looking at him like he was God.

Oblivious, he said, “You’re too drunk to drive. I’m taking you home.”

That meant in a car. She felt a lick of fear, as intimate as a lover’s tongue. In a car alone withhim. “I’ll phone a taxi.”

“Taxis cost money,” he said. “Aren’t you supposed to be hard up?”

It was a terrible choice of phrase. His arm was digging into her back, keeping her pinned against him. One of her breasts was being crushed by the oppressive weight of his arm, and as he piloted out the door, she could feel his—oh God—his hips press up against her backside, providing solid evidence of just howhard upone of them was.

She caught a brief glimpse of sky, rendered a sickly teal from the setting sun. Shrouded in their cloaks of haze, the hills were a dark purple verging on black.

I’m in trouble, she thought, staring at that bleakly menacing horizon.I’m in so much trouble.

The soft fabric of his passenger seat hit her back. Rafe closed the door on her while she was still adjusting to this, his phone already out. He still hadn’t given her back her purse but the flowers were on her lap, filling the car with a sickly fragrance.

“I’m arranging to have your car towed,” he said, before closing his door, as well.

Donni flared with indignation at being treated like a child, which was followed quickly by fear. This obviously wasn’t his car—it reeked of new car smell and it was too small for him. Did anyone know he was here? That he was with her? She certainly hadn’t told anyone apart from Angie, but Angie was all the way in L.A.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d looked at her.

He’d left a to-go cup of coffee in the cupholder and she let her eyes fixate on it as the roof spun dangerously.Caution: contents may be very hotwas stamped into the lid and that was how she felt right now. She cupped her face in her hands, still chilled from the contact with her water glass, and let out a rough sigh that sounded suspiciously like a sob.

That, of course, was when Rafe swung himself behind the wheel. But he didn’t start the car right away and when she glanced over, wiping at her face, his eyes lingered on hers for a troubling amount of time. “Are you all right?”

What if he wanted her to invite him into the house? Totake care of her, she thought sarcastically. Did he even have a hotel? Or had he planned on making himself right at home in his old bedroom? Or, worse—hers?

“Donni?”

She shook herself. “Can you turn the AC on?”

“Sure.” She watched him fumble to find the right knob—definitely not his car, she thought. And then she breathed out deeply, and tried to focus on the cool air.

Most people would have tried to fill the two-hour silence with chatter but Rafe didn’t say a word. He’d been like that when he was young, too. All those drives upstate to see his mom at the clinic, and he’d scarcely talked at all. No, he’d just stared ahead with that same fierce look of concentration on his face, keeping his thoughts to himself.