Page 45 of Flame
“Rafe!” I shout uselessly. “Don’t!”
It’s too late.
Too enraged, he doesn’t seem to hear me. In a blur of motion, he rams into Liam from behind, nearly taking him off his feet with one blow. His fist already poised for another, his upper lip drawn from his teeth in a mask of sheer rage.
I stagger between them, trying to brace my hand against Rafe’s chest. Solid muscle ripples beneath my palm, impossible to control. It’s like trying to stop a charging bull. With little effort, he pushes past me, singularly focused on his target.
“Don’t,” I shout, clawing at his forearm. “Rafe, don’t! It’s not him! He’s not Bran!”
He draws back suddenly, his fist still raised, eyes blazing without a shred of confusion contributing to the anger. Just rage. Fury. Betrayal. The second they fixate on me, I realize the truth. Heknows. Whether he figured out before he hit Liam, or after, doesn’t matter, he knows now.
And his rage hits me like a blowtorch, scorching whatever pathetic excuses I had prepared for this moment.
All I can do is reach for him, sick with guilt. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—”
“Fuck you.” He squares his shoulders, turning on his heel despite the commotion swirling to life in his wake. Alarmed bystanders gape as Liam swipes at his nose. It’s bleeding.
“Let me help.” I rush to him and fish through my purse for a spare napkin. “Here.”
“What the hell was that about?” he demands, staring after Rafe, who’s already halfway down the block. “Do you know that guy?”
I say nothing, and when the worst of the bleeding stops, Liam shrugs me off. “I’ve gotta get to work,” he says, swiping at his nose. With his free hand, he snatches something from his pocket and presses it into my hand. “Here. If you need me, I’m on tonight. Damn it, that asshole’s lucky I don’t press charges.”
“Don’t,” I plead, but he’s already crossing the street, still clutching at his nose.
It isn’t until I finally turn to face the café that another realization hits with the strength of a gut punch.Mara.I race back to our table only to find her already gone. The check has been paid but scrawled across the bottom of the receipt is a simple message—Thanks for being such a good friend.
Feeling slapped, I leave the café and start down the block, hunting for any sign of her. What I’ll say if I do find her, I have no idea.
But she’s gone. I don’t even find her near the Chans’ restaurant. Desperate, I try texting her, but minutes pass without a response.
I keep walking as I wait for one, melding with the afternoon foot traffic. I’m halfway across town before I realize—I have nowhere to go.
Rafe’s feels off-limits, and my old lease runs out in just a few short days. My only haven is a building I find myself approaching out of habit.
I nearly sigh in relief once I find the Paper Crane is open, blazing with light as the sun starts to set. A few customers litter the shop as I enter and see Mr. Zhang at the counter. He eyes me warily, lingering over my bruises.
“I heard you were taking off for a few days,” he says without broaching any other topic.
“Yeah, well… I’m back,” I say, unable to come up with any reasonable excuse. The pity in his gaze warns that I don’t have to, and I feel bold enough to ask for the one thing I don’t have a right to. A distraction. “If you want me to close up, I can.”
“Hmm.” He eyes me for what feels like a solid minute. Then he nods and grabs his bowler hat from a hook on the wall. “I’ll head home early. You can close out the register too. And there’s an envelope,” he adds, his voice low with double meaning.
Too grateful to argue, I watch him go, mulling over what Rafe revealed about him. Could such a kind, hardworking man have a darker vice?
Though, who is anyone really beyond the façade they present to the world? To so many, Branden is the perfect gentleman, an upstanding citizen. The paragon of goodness and an inspiration to people like Liam.
But inside? Darkness dwells within him, too entrenched to overcome.
Speaking of Liam…
I’d shoved whatever he’d given me into my pocket. Unfurling it now, I realize it’s a business card, complete with his number. Despite the chaos that unfolded today, my brain keeps coming back to one image again and again. The way he looked at me when I mentioned Branden’s suspension.
That strange, unexpected reaction flickered across his face too quickly to appreciate in full then. Pouring over it now, I’m confident enough to name it for what it was.
Hope. Like he wanted to say more but wasn’t sure how.
My brother is good at maintaining his façade, but what if even Liam has seen through it?
