Page 42 of The Dark Obsession

“Confused. Maybe a bit scared.” I answer stiffly, watching him as he glances back over to the waitress.

He opens his own menu. “Why?”

I peruse my menu. “I think it’s obvious why, Rafael.”

He sighs and looks up at me. “Why are you confused?”

The waitress appears and sets down two mugs. “Any food I can get you, Mr Alcazar?”

“I’ll have the roasted vegetable and goats cheese sandwich, please. What about you, Rosa?”

I stare at the menu that I hadn’t even read, then make eye contact with Rafael. “Same …”

The waitress disappears into a door next to the bar.

I watch her while I add a lump of sugar to my coffee, and Rafael’s still waiting for my answer. “I’m confused, because you’re protecting me,” I say, sighing.

His hand runs through his curls, and he lowers his glasses to rest over his eyes. “Because I care about you, Rosalie. I know we haven’t worked together long, but it’s been long enough for me to care—it’s long enough for anyone to care. It’s human nature. Any decent human would.”

“Then you’re very selfless.”

“Maybe.” He chuckles and loosens his shirt cuffs. He rolls up the sleeves and leans his sturdy forearms on the table. A long prominent vein runs from under his shirt and down the side of his arm. He tilts his head, searching my face.

I pull my eyebrows together and grin. “What?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

I shuffle in my seat.Of course, I’m not! I’m absolutely not okay!I smile instead and whisper, “I’m fine,” worried if I speak too loudly, my voice will break and out me.

The waitress brings our food, and it looks nothing like the sandwich I am used to. The brown bread is slightly toasted, the smell of roasted peppers seeping from the steaming insides. A yellow vinaigrette dresses the sides of thick cut chips and the salad.

“Thank you.” Rafael smiles beautifully to the waitress, who returns the gesture. He beams at his sandwich before he takes a bite. Obviously, he’s eaten here many times.

I start on my chips, chewing more times than I usually would, and I notice a faint tattoo on Rafael’s arm. “What’s it say?” I point to his arm.

He runs his hand over the grey tattoo, barely visible unless under the bright light. “For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways,” Rafael says quietly, smiling. “Psalms 91:11.”

I stare open mouthed at Rafael, who chuckles to himself and takes another bite of his sandwich. Just like an angel, Rafael has guarded me, though he hasn’t seemed to make the connection yet.

“Why don’t you get it redone?” I sip my coffee.

“Because I like it like this. Only those who really want to know me will notice it.” He resumes focusing on his sandwich.

“Are you religious?”

“No, not in the church sense. I believe in God, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I just don’t see how a wonderful and loving God can allow so much travesty.” I look down at the table.

“I ask myself that question all the time, blaming the fallen for the problems of the universe.” He takes a deep breath. “God abandons his creations and his children but blames the world for that. Says it’s our fault because we sin.”

I think for a moment. “So, you believe in God but don’t think he’s a good guy?”

He nods in agreement, his face blushing.

We finish with just a little bit of small talk. Rafael pops up to the bar to pay the bill, and we head for the car. It’s cooling down outside as the clouds roll in.

We drive to his home, and he mentions the case of Eliza Thomas with irritation in his grumble. “The police are still no closer to finding her murderer.”

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