Page 34 of The Dark Obsession

Rafael’s hand pushes on my shoulder as he shrugs out of my embrace.

With a burning pink face, I look up at him, embarrassed by his rejection.

“Sorry, I don’t want you covered in blood.” Rafael laughs.

“Raf—”

He turns and walks towards the car. Blood still seeps steadily from his lip, down his face, and onto his shirt. His face could easily pass as being made from stone as he holds his car door open for me and waits for me to get back in.

I reluctantly get in and watch him cross the car. The wind gusts as rain spits onto the windscreen.

Rafael unbuttons his shirt and opens the driver side door. “Can you pass me my jacket, please?”

I avoid looking directly at him, my cheeks growing an even brighter red. I hand him his jacket, which is draped over the back of my seat, without making eye contact.

He turns his back on me and removes his shirt.

I glance at him again, surprised to see layer upon layer of muscle.

His muscular shoulders flex as he flicks his shirt onto the driver’s seat and slips on his suit jacket, covering his light-olive skin. “I’m sorry you had to see that, Rosalie, but we need him to know you’ll not be alone.” He sits beside me and starts the engine.

“Why do you protect me?” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

“Come to mine. It will be safer at mine for now.”

I nod, unable to think of a reason not to, unable to even imagine a scenario where I’d feel safe tonight.

He turns to study me, his thumb rubbing his lower lip, which is now raw and sporting a large lump. He’s clearly assessing my face as we speed down the winding roads towards his home. His eyes narrow on the road as we take a sharp right. The sun’s efforts to shine through the dark grey clouds cease, and we take the last left and stop at the large gates that protect Rafael’s home. They open, creaking loudly as they did the first time I was here. He pulls up outside his house, and I clamber from the car. Rafael hurries to my side as we walk to his towering front door.

The door swings open, and Lucy stands waiting expectantly. Her face is seemingly much paler than the last time I saw her.

Rafael leads, almost pulling me into his house. He hurries my jacket down my arms and holds it as we walk through the first door on the right.

Lucy rushes behind and flicks on the light.

A large circular room lights up before my eyes. Its white walls stretch high, revealing several beautiful diamond-shaped lights dotted across a black ceiling, like stars. An empty log fire sits in the far side of the room. A desk with a computer, a small circular coffee table and a curved white leather sofa is the only other furnishing in the room. A large window faces the wooded area just beside his home.

“Anything I can get you?” Lucy mutters to Rafael as she stands awkwardly at the door, her gaze falling on me.

“Some drinks please. Some wine will do. And some snacks,” he says, not looking at her. “Take a seat, Rosalie. You’re safe here.”

“Why is she here?” Lucy regards me with distaste.

“Because of a personal issue. You will tend to her as you tend to me.” He sits on the sofa next to me.

Lucy leaves the room, and Rafael watches me silently, his chest still bare under his suit jacket.

I can’t help my eyes flittering towards his obviously chiselled physique.

His finger absentmindedly traces along the large silver scar. He looks down at his chest and up at me, then jumps up. “I’ll go grab a clean shirt. Sorry.” He opens the door and rushes out.

“It’s okay,” I mutter.

My shaking hands are easing. I feel safe here. Somehow, this house feels comfortable. The sofa, though cold, is invitingly soft. I watch the outline of trees sway in wind through the window, almost certain that if I stare hard enough, I will find Dale, staring back.

Lucy pushes a silver trolly that carries a bottle of red wine, two glasses and a platter of sandwiches into the room. “Here.” She pours two glasses of wine. She strolls straight back out, brushing past Rafael as he reenters.

He’s wearing a tight black t-shirt, dark blue jeans, and is carrying what seems like another shirt. He glances at me with a smirk, grabs the two glasses of wine, and sits at the end of the sofa, his body turned to me. “Sorry about that. I forgot I took off—”

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