Page 74 of Dead Set on You
Rafael’s quiet for a moment.Not-friends don’t look at each other the way he’s looking at you,Coma Evie adds. I suck in a shaky breath, because heislooking at me like he wants to make sure I’m okay. It only intensifies the sensation of not having enough oxygen.
“Depends on what you’re up for,” he says at last.
“Short of animal sacrifices, just about anything.” I slowly release the bubble of air, eager to be back on normal Evie vs. Rafael ground.
“Okay, does that include deer? Because they’re overpopulating Illinois, Michigan—”
“Rafael,” I warn. “No.”
“Kidding!” He holds up his hands in defense. “I’d prefer you don’t haunt my bloodline!”
It gets tougher to not smile. “Do you have ideas that don’t involve murdering animals?”
“Actually, yes.” He lifts his phone. “Lupe wants to meet us at the hospital.”
My anxiety rebels, but I manage a nod.
CHAPTER EIGHTEENTEN DAYS (AND A MEDIUM) AFTER
I hate hospitals. I’ve hated them for the last fifteen years, and I’ll hate them for another hundred. Sure, good things happen here, but I’ve only ever associated hospitals withbad. Loss. Pain. Grief. All those things combined—and I’m not immune to them when the doors of Northwestern Memorial shut behind us. My chest tightens. My hands turn clammy. And suddenly, the thought of passing out doesn’t seem entirely unfavorable.
Beside me, Rafael’s seemingly unbothered, hands tucked into his jeans and hishey theresmile at the ready for anyone who’ll gaze his way. He wields it often as we make our way through the bustling corridors of the hospital, and I’m not excluded from his list of victims.
“Hey. You’re looking a little green,” Rafael says, his smile slipping from charming into something worse: concern (much like the look he had at Helene’s).
“Conditions,” I remind him, wishing he’d keep his eyes off hisinvisiblecompanion, because they’re doing something that’s not helping with the mash-up of emotions I’m feeling.
A questioning look creases his stupidly handsome face, but he must remember the conditions because he turns away, heading straight for an elevator. A pretty nurse walks out, ogling him like he’s steak when all she’s had is hospital food. Rafael misses this entirely as he slips inside the ridiculously small space, waiting for me to follow. I stand rigidly to one side. His eyes catch mine as he leans over, brushing past me to press the button to the ninth floor. The doors close. My stomach churns.
“Whatever’s got you looking a lot moreghostthan usual, I don’t have a backpack to sacrifice this time, E. Even if I did, I’m not sure I’d lend you my new one. I’m strangely attached to it.”
I wheel on him, mortified that he’s thinking about The Elevator Incident. That he still has the backpack I got him to replace the other. “You’reveryfunny.”
“Part of the package.” As if trying to prove his point, his very masculine hand flexes. The kind of hand that could probably loosen knots from your shoulders or lift you up against an elevator wall.
Andohmygod, someone put me out of my misery.
Burning, I peer at the elevator ceiling. “If you’re listening, I’m ready to come back now.”
Rafael chuckles. “Not sure that’s how it works.”
“Howdoesit work?”
He shrugs as the elevator lurches to a stop. “I don’t think the Big Guy appreciates all the sarcasm.” I catch Rafael’s smirk before he slips out the doors. I follow, staring fiery daggers at his broad (and arrogant) back.
He had this exact view when he stole the Betton account,Pre-Coma Evie pipes up from nowhere.Think aboutthatwhen you’re ogling his backside.
The thought is immediately sobering.
I haven’t processed the Annie thing or the unfinished-business thing, yet one part of me can’t stop ruminating on the Lupe thing that she was going to share. I know I should trustRafael on this, but the fact that I don’t know the entire truth bugs me. The thought of him sabotaging me hurts.
“Now I know something’s up. You look like you guzzled a bottle of Dulcolax,” he says, slowing in front of room 922, the room with the other half of me.
I twist my lips into a smile that feels brittle. “Not a fan of hospitals and not a fan of”—seeing myself tied up to tubes,I want to say—“being so completely at your mercy in there.”
Rafael smirks, rubbing his palms together. “Oh, the possibilities.”
Imagine yourself with shaved eyebrows or a buzz cut. Lots of possibilities.Pre-Coma Evie is relentless.
