Page 95 of Dead Set on You
“Am I?”
My smile slips at the heat in his eyes, daring me to answer.
Pounding on the door saves me from having to confront my increasingly complicated feelings.
We both turn toward the door.
“Another one of your jilted lovers?”
Rafael marches past me, flicking his towel in my direction. “Funny.”
The knocking is incessant, and Rafael wrenches open the door.
I hold my breath, half expecting Violet to have returned for her phone … or a SWAT team ready to knock down the door.
Lupe glowers in the doorway, one hand on her hip and her phone in the other. She assaults Rafael with rapid-fire Spanish before she advances, swatting in the direction of his head.
“Sorry!” Rafael shouts, ducking.
Lupe follows. “You better be! You can’t do that to me!”
“I said I’m sorry!” He holds up his hands to defend himself.
“I have no choice but to forgive you, but it’ll take a moment,” she says before she flicks his head once more.
“For what?” I can’t help asking.
“I didn’t pick up her call.” Rafael smooths down his hair.
Lupe glances across the dining room in my direction, a few feet from where I’m sitting. “Hi, Evie!” She waves. “It wasn’tonecall; it was several. I thought something happened.”
“He’s horrible like that,” I add, hating that we can’t commiserate over all things Rafael together. He levels an almost scathing glare my way.
“What’s so important you couldn’t wait for me to call you back?”
Her gaze turns accusatory again. “Two things. One, Rabbi Steve came by the hospital, and he sends his regards.”
“Oh,” Rafael and I both say at the same time. I’ve been so distracted I forgot to ask.
“The second thing?” Rafael asks, rolling his shoulders.
She slides her eyes across the room to me, then back to Rafael. “I know she’s here, but …”
My curiosity piqued, I lean in.
“Out with it, Lupe.” Rafael’s impatient.
“There’s a problem … at the bar.”
“Can it wait?”
“No. Not anymore,” she says, a little less patiently. The glare she shoots him makes me want to cower in a corner.
“Fine.” Rafael brushes past her and grabs his keys from the table. “This better be worth it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOURELEVEN DAYS AFTER (LATE NIGHT)
We arrive at La Clandestina, parking in the same alley as before. Mr. Sasquatch stands guard at the door, his bearded face cast in strange shadows from the lone light hanging above his bald head.
