Page 30 of Dead Set on You
Rafael halts.
I barrel into him—through him—and warmth washes through me. Rafael inhales sharply, rubbing his arms, making me wonder what he felt. Warmth? Cold? Who cares?
I scowl at him, clutching my chest. “What is wrong with you?” I huff.
“I make thingsharder?” Rafael’s tone is low and accusatory.
I inject self-indignation into my tone. “You’re the one who won’t stay and talk!”
“You don’t want me totalk. You want me to admit I had something to do with this.” He gestures to me—or rather, the floaty mess that used to have a pulse.
While the run down the stairs hasn’t winded me, it’s the glowering that hits me square in the chest. I ignore it. Pretend to be unfazed.
“Isn’t confession part of your Catholic upbringing?”
“Chingado.” He grumbles the word, throwing his hands up as he storms down the stairs again.
I rush to keep pace with him.
The level-eight ire pulsing along the column of his tanned neck tells me I’m treading down a path that’s not going to lead to answers, which are what I need.
If this were any other situation, I would keep pushing his buttons. It’s not often that I get under Rafael’s skin without some elaborate plan, but I need to get him from level-eight on-the-verge-of-explosion to level-two on-the-verge-of- explanation.
Shifting to troubleshooting mode, I draw in a deep breath, determined to steer things back on track. I’m Evie Pope. I’m an expert at taking complex problems and solving them. Like Rafael’s inability to answer my questions.
“Okay. So let’s say you didn’t do this,” I start. Rafael mutters and continues to hurtle down the stairs. “Okay, okay—youdidn’tdo this.” I lie easily, chasing after him.
Rafael doesn’t stop.
He reaches the bottom of the stairwell and opens a door beneath anEXITsign. Eye-watering light swamps the stairwell, and then the door begins to shut. In my face.
“Hey!” I yelp, walking through it. The sensation of moving through the metal door is like treading through frigid water. “Rafael!”
Undeterred, Rafael storms halfway across the packed parking lot, weaving through parked cars with surprising agility.
“Can you wait?” I run after him, my dress hindering my movements.
“Can you be a normal human?”
“Apparently, the ‘normal human’ ship has sailed.” I hop over an overturned cup of Dollop coffee.
“That’s not what I meant!”
“Whatdidyou mean?” I huff, easing into a power walk as Rafael barely breaks a sweat. It takes several more steps for me to catch up.
Rafael shoots a glare in my direction. The intensity in it makes my stomach flutter. “You don’t know when to turn it off.”
Something in my chest shifts uncomfortably. “I think I’ve been turned off,” I scoff.
“Your body—maybe,” Rafael says. “But your desire to reach some imagined goalpost clearly hasn’t turned off. Evie, you’re in a fucking coma, yet you’re here, asking me if I’m the one who put you there because you’re more worried about me having the upper hand than you are putting your own shit aside to ask yourself why.”
“I did ask why.”
“Did you?” He arches a thick brow.
I nod, still without an answer.
“Thenwhy?”
