Page 4 of Freak
Summer
T he moment I tore my check away from the book, I could hear his voice, clear and booming, just as guttural as it was in the mic.
“Summer Evans.” Rafael smiled as I turned around, his height so pronounced that he was forced to turn his chiseled chin down in my direction. “Long time no see.”
“Not long enough…” I replied, collecting a paper stub that acted as a receipt.
He smoothed his hand over his cheek, massaging the pebbled scruff on his jaw. His brief silence was met with the assessment of my face, which I refined into a pursed expression. “I can imagine what this is about,” he finally settled.
“Try imagining it for over three thousand, six hundred and fifty days.”
“And the hours?” He asked quickly.
I stared at the clock on the wall.
“Twenty, to be exact.”
“Seems about right.” He stepped closer, his body language unlike Veronica or Jake’s.
Rafael’s wrists weren’t limp, nor his shoulders slouched. He was as straight and commanding as a fixed statue, sculpted like one too, his aftershave as subtle as snowfall but as warm as suede. It all settled itself onto my chest, as we stood face to face, causing my heart to pound in my ears.
“Well…” I responded, stopping my voice from shaking.
“Well, what?”
“Aren’t you going to ask me how long I’m in town for?”
Rafael grinned, his lips shielding the pearly charm of his perfect teeth. Oh, I wanted to see them, but also to break them with one solid punch. It took everything inside me to stop from balling my fist and slamming it into his face.
“I don’t need to ask that. You and I are the same.”
“We’re nothing alike.” I responded eagerly, foolishly.
“Both busy. Both have lives too big for this town. You’re out by sunrise, I’m sure of it.”
I knitted my brows, his certainty on my position too accurate for my comfort.
I was the first to break from the staring contest we held, dropping my eyes to his chest, his hard muscles wrapped in a pressed—slightly unbuttoned—white shirt.
Had it been black like his suit jacket and slacks, we may have looked like a couple.
“If you’re here longer, we can schedule something in the books… the date that is.” Out from his pocket he pulled a piece of winter-mint gum, unwrapping its foil before slipping it between his lips.
I wanted to fucking bite him.
“This isn’t a date.” I held the receipt in the air. “This is an obligation to follow my lead and do as you’re told.” I began to walk past him, my sleeved arm brushing against his, noting the electric heat his body emitted. He made me shiver.
“So I see… you’re in charge .” He said, nodding to Veronica’s button on my dress, which I instantly removed.
“It would be wise for you believe that. The sooner we do this, the sooner we can get on with our lives,” I said, listening to the stride of his dress shoes, and how they matched my heels.
“And what if I’m not interested in that?” He inhaled as we stepped outside, leaving the ambient glow of a tired old hotel.
“In what?” I asked impatiently, sternly, clicking the ignition to my rented Lamborghini a few yards away. It roared into existence, its lights peeking out from the dark lot of old station wagons and minivans.
“Getting on with my life,” he answered quietly.
“You sound as sentimental as the others inside.”
“I’m not like them.”
“You are… you’re just afraid to admit it.”
“Admitting is something I’ve already considered and am willing to do. In fact, I expected you tonight.” Rafael stepped towards the tail end of the car, its red lights catching his face like the flames of hell.
His concentrated stare was enough for me to question the decisions I was about to make, or how angry I truly was in the first place. Was it enough to ruin his life?
One look into his angel eyes and dimpled cheeks was all I needed.
Innocent?
Handsome?
A contributor to society?
It was all an unstable pyramid of attributes that meant very little to me. I was the wrecking ball, coming to smash those who needed to pay for the things they did… and no one owed me more than Rafael Amada.
“Get in the car,” I demanded. “I’m taking you out on a night you’ll never forget.”