Page 56 of Rafe

Stripping off his clothes with swift, determined motions, he turned the shower on, stepping into the stall as steam began to fill the small space. The hot water cascaded over his skin, a comforting embrace that he could not afford to indulge in. He had to get to Maggie.

Rafe’s mind was a whirlwind of worry and anger. He knew she had to be terrified, her fear a tangible shadow lurking in the corners of his thoughts. How many days he wondered, since being back in Clifton, had Junior been watching her? The idea slithered into his mind, making his skin crawl with disgust. The thought of that prick watching her, threatening her, made his blood boil, a fierce heat that even the soothing stream of the shower could not quell.

After his shower, he toweled off briskly, the chill of the day already nipping at his damp skin. Slipping into jeans and a thick flannel shirt, he tugged on his sheepskin coat and pulled his felt hat low over his forehead. Outside, snow fell in heavy, lazy flakes, piling against the doorframe, but he didn’t hesitate, nothing would keep him from getting to her.

Booker barked and ran to the door, but Rafe shook his head. “Sorry, buddy, not this time. I’ll be back soon, though.” Then he pulled the door closed behind him.

He climbed into his pickup, and turned the key, the engine growled to life, and he watched gray skies blur as the truck rumbled out onto the main road. He thumbed his cell phone and dialed the diner, placing an order. That would save precious minutes.

The roads were slick, but passable. He edged the truck behind the neon-lit diner, its windows fogged from dozens of meals served. Warm light spilled out onto the drifting snow. After paying, he scooped the paper bag of burgers from the counter and ducked back into his truck, tires crunching on the narrow alley’s snow. At the end lay the iron steps up to Maggie’s apartment. He hoped she was ready, packed and waiting, because as soon as they ate, they’d be on the road.

He shook his head. First Nate had to handle Markie’s mother’s husband who couldn’t keep his hands to himself, then Jack with Randi’s stepbrother, and now this mess with Junior. “Can’t some men just take a fucking hint?” he muttered; teeth set. “If she shows no interest, move the hell on.”

He parked, cut the engine, and grabbed the still-warm bag. He hit the fob to lock the truck—he didn’t trust Junior, not one bit—and climbed the steps. He rapped on Maggie’s door until it swung open.

She stood there, pale and trembling, and as soon as she saw him, she sank into his arms. She let go of a single, relieved sob into his chest. He closed his eyes, pressing his cheek to her hair.

“Let me get out of my coat, baby.” He handed her the bag. “We’ll warm up inside.” He peeled off his hat and coat, hanging them on the pegs by the door. “After we eat, we’ll get going.”

She brushed a loose strand of hair from her face, eyes rimmed red. “Are the roads okay?”

He offered a half-smile. “Not too bad. The radio said it’ll warm up tomorrow, this is just a teaser.”

She sank onto the sofa. He set the bag between them, and she peeled back the top. Two foil-wrapped burgers sat beside a cardboard container of fries and a pile of golden onion rings. Steam curled up, carrying the scent of sizzling onions and melted cheese.

He shrugged, easing onto the sofa across from her. “I didn’t know which you’d want, so I got you fries.”

She reached for an onion ring. “We could’ve shared.”

“Oh hell no. I don’t share my onion rings with anyone.” He laughed.

Her lips curved. “I bet I could make you.”

He leaned forward, picking up his burger. He bit into it and groaned, a perfect blend of juicy beef, soft bun, tangy sauce. “No doubt, maybe I’ll share, but first we eat, then we go. Did you pack a bag?”

She set her burger down and straightened. “I did. I hope I don’t have to stay too long.”

His jaw tightened. “Is there some reason you don’t want to stay with me?”

She shook her head. “It’s not that. It’s just… I’m supposed to be at work Monday.”

“There’s no way you’re going back to work.” His voice was firm, protective.

She lifted her burger again, voice soft. “I have a job, Rafe. I won’t let him keep me away. You know how I feel about him, but he wouldn’t dare try anything with people around. He’s a chickenshit—acts tough but runs from anyone who stands up to him. No one knows how truly evil he can be. He showed his real self to me, and they’d never suspect.”

He chewed slowly; brow furrowed. “I still don’t like it.”

“There’s nothing we can do until he actually tries something.”She pressed her palm to her chest, steadying her breath. “Even if he threatened me, that’s not enough for the sheriff to act. He’d say there’s no evidence, just words. Even if Frederick were confronted, he’d say I was lying.”

Rafe set his burger on the low table and faced her. The glow from the single lamp cast soft shadows across his dark features. “You want him to make a move?” He shook his head. “Because if that’s what you’re saying, it’s a big no.”

She traced the rim of her soda cup. “Even if I told Sam he threatened me, he’d say it’s my word against his. Frederick’s patient. He’ll wait.”

Rafe sank back into the cushions, running a hand through his hair. “You’re right. Until he actually tries something, our hands are tied. Damn it—it’s infuriating.”

They ate the last of their burgers in silence. He crinkled the empty foil and tossed the fry and onion rings cartons into the bag.

Bundled once more in heavy coats, they stepped toward the door. He picked up her suitcase and she locked the door behind them. The wind had whipped the fallen snow into drifts as they descended the iron stairs. Rafe took her hand, fingers curling around hers like an anchor.

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