Page 17 of Flame
“I’ll teach you whatever it takes for you to not be afraid of him,” Rafe declares.
The intensity in his voice takes my breath away.
“You’re being ridiculous.” I can’t even face him, so I stare through the windshield instead, watching the orange glow play off the brick siding of the buildings nearby.
“Tell me then,” he says, refusing to let the subject drop. “What’s your plan? What do you think it will take?”
What will it take to feel safe from Branden?
I’d naïvely thought that finding my voice might do that. Strengthening my writing enough for my own words to speak for me. I thought stating the truth, even as distorted as I could, might help nurture some small, distant part of me brave enough to stand against him.
Weeks later and that hasn’t happened.
“I just need to get into the writing program,” I insist as dryly as reading a script. “Keep my job. Stay away from him. Nothing else.”
“The offer stands,” Rafe says while muscling open the door on his end. He mounts the curb, leaving me to scramble after him as he strides ahead for the back door to the shop. Halfway there, he stops short.
“Shit,” I hear him hiss as he raises a hand for me to stop. Low, his voice reaches me, barely audible. “Stay here.”
