Page 47 of Dead Set on You
The words dig into me like claws.
“What … what does that mean?” I can’t keep the panic from my voice.
His eyes connect with mine. Almost sad. “They said your body should’ve started waking up by now, but it hasn’t.” He swallows. “They’ll try again in a few days, but if it doesn’t work, they’ll have to change course. Move you to a long-term facility because the hospital needs the bed.”
“Long-term?” I breathe. “As in give-up-on-you storage.”
“No! It’s not like that,” he says quickly. “But it’s not ideal. It’s farther. Less access. Gemma’s pushing back, but it’s only Gemma and a Julia Popovici who are legally allowed to visit you … based on your consent.”
The words hit like a kick to the chest.
“Shit.” It slips out on a breath. A very young, very naive version of Evie Pope signed a medical consent form almost a decade ago, adding only her best friend and her great-aunt.
Not that I would have added Rafael Vela to the list. Not in a million years.
“Butyouwere at the hospital,” I point out.
Rafael shifts from one leg to the other. “Yes.”
“How?” His sudden aversion to eye contact piques my curiosity. “Rafael.”
His head jerks up, his features suspiciously sheepish. “I know Dr. Wagner from before … and I told her we were together.”
“Together?” I choke out, horrified. “Liketogethertogether?
He doesn’t answer because his face says it all. “Technically, we aretogether. Every day. Longer than most couples whoaretogether. I let her assume the rest,” he says, offering a one-shoulder shrug.
The urge to tug out tufts of his unfairly thick hair is overwhelming, but I curl my fingers into my palm instead. “You are …”
“… the only one who can help,” he finishes, daring to offer a chaste smile. “It’s also made it easier for others to come see you.”
Grinding my teeth, I consider fighting this particular battle. But I know when the odds are stacked against me, and currently, their weight is pretty crushing.
I stretch onto my tiptoes and into his space. “This isn’t the end of this discussion,” I say.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Good.” I hold his gaze a second longer. “So, we have what—a few days in the hospital and then you can’t help me?”
“Until Gemma finds a way to modify the consent or keep you in the hospital, because that’s the best place for you,” he says. “Regardless, we’ll figure it out.”
Rafael says this like a promise, like he needs me to believe him … and I know I have to.
Because I can’t start this by thinking we’ll fail.
“Is that it, then? Are those all the conditions?” My voice comes out strong and steady, nothing like how I really feel. The desperation termites are swarming, fast and frantic.
Rafael holds my gaze like he’s trying to see through me, but my guards are White House–level secure. “That’s it,” he finally says.
Despite the tightness in my chest, I take a deep breath, square my shoulders, and move to the last part of getting Rafael on board. I hold out my hand. “All right then, it’s a deal?”
Rafael glances at my hand before pressing his palm to mine—flesh-and-bone hand ghosting against something notquite there. I can’t feel him exactly, but Ifeel. An energy. A flicker of awareness that ripples through me, and it silences my thoughts.
I keep my features neutral as he says, “Deal.” And like that, we become reluctant partners.
CHAPTER TWELVEEIGHT DAYS (AND SOME CONDITIONS) AFTER
We’re back in Rafael’s apartment.
