Page 52 of Moth
Chapter Eleven
I’d been so naïve when I first moved into this place. To innocent Hannah from over a month ago, freedom could be found simply by scrubbing away the grime in her small, one-bedroom apartment to make it her own. Hope then had smelled like the dust and chemical cleaner that punctuated those first steps in reclaiming my life. Breaking away from Branden, I finally moved out, even if it were only a few minutes’ drive away.
That fragile pride had lasted all of the ten seconds it took for him to visit with his “housewarming” present. It sits on my TV now, an electronic eye staring blankly as I tackle the mess scattered across my apartment.
The spilled eggs.
The stray thread.
The blood.
I rearrange my throw pillows to cover the stains on the chair I can’t get out and sweep the wooden floors to no avail. It still looks barren. What had Rafe called it? A jail cell.
Desperate to ignore the phantom of him, I throw on a sundress and head outside, wandering aimlessly. I don’t go to the bookstore just yet. Instead, I take a longer route, cutting through a part of downtown that extends my walk by nearly twenty minutes.
Halfway, I find myself pausing near a pop-up market of all places. I don’t know why. Its offerings consist of fresh produce supplied by farmers from outside of the city. I grab some veggies with the idea of making them for dinner, but right before I leave, I snatch something else, leaving the money on the counter.
The bouquet of fresh yellow tulips smell, tickling my nose during the entire walk to the Paper Crane. I find a plastic cup and fill it with water, setting them aside, along with my veggies, while I get to work.
Today, I discover Mr. Zhang in the back room, poring over inventory. He spots me and nods in a silent greeting. “You’re just in time.” He points at a fresh box waiting to be unloaded. “You can help with this.”
We work in friendly harmony during the entire shift—without a visitor who barges in unannounced.
It doesn’t sink in until I leave that he never came. Is his leg still healing? Or worse…
Shaking my head, I try to dispel the worries. I shouldn’t give a damn if he’s in a ditch somewhere, suffering from an infection. He’d deserve it.
With my tulips and vegetables in hand, I force myself to head toward my building, putting all thoughts of him aside. But my legs rebel, and I keep going, eventually reaching a destination I should be doing everything I can to avoid.
It’s open. The light is on, and a lone figure leans against the counter with his back to the window. To the world. But he’s not alone.
Another man stands near the door, dressed in jeans and a leather jacket. From his size alone, I recognize him as the older man from the club. His voice is loud enough to hear from paces away. “You’re just going to let that fucker go? Any other time, you’d crush those sons of bitches—”
“Not tonight,” Rafe says without looking up. His voice conveys an authority even the older man seems to respect because he doesn’t interrupt. “Gino’s not an idiot. He’s desperate. We go too hard now and tip our hand, then he’ll have every right to retaliate. It’s better if we bide our fucking time. Let him sweat.”
“So you just let him off?” the man exclaims. “Fuck, Rafe. They could have killed your ass. If your uncle were here, he’d—”
“But he’s not, is he?” Rafe hisses, lifting his head. I’ve never seen his gaze so hard. “And in case you haven’t fucking noticed, I am not him—” He breaks off the second he spots me, his eyes narrowing. Almost imperceptibly, he shakes his head.Go. Just as quickly, he returns his attention to the man before him. “Shore up the club. If those assholes are dumb enough to come crawling back, then we can act. Got it?”
The other man whirls on his heel without comment and storms from the shop. He’s too irritated to even notice me as he marches past and climbs into a car parked alongside the curb.
As he drives off, a shadow falls over me, thicker than the darkness cast by the setting sun. “You’re a long way from home, bunny.”
I turn in time to catch him loping behind the counter. He moves easily enough, despite leaning slightly to one side. The wound must be in a position that doesn’t hamper his ability to walk. Or intimidate. “Back for more?” he wonders coldly from over his shoulder.
“More what?” I whisper, creeping forward until I’m standing in the doorway.
“Don’t play dumb.” He turns, shooting me a searching glance that leaves no doubt. He’s furious. “Youknowwhat.”
“I wanted to make sure you weren’t lying dead somewhere.” I hate how earnest I sound. “You didn’t come by the store.”
“No, no little bunny…” He wags a finger. “That’s not why you’re here. You wanted to play on the wild side a little more. Unfortunately, I’m too tired to play the role of a bad boy to your innocent nun right now.” He braces both hands against the countertop, glaring at the polished surface. “Go run back toBran.”
“Nice.” I blink incredulously. His dismissive tone shouldn’t hurt. Maybe I could understand the hostility if the explanation weren’t so…obvious. “So, I save your skin, and you turn into an asshole because you’re jealous?”
“I’m not jealous,” he counters. “I’mbored. Of you. Now hop along, I have shit to take care of.” He shrugs me off and steps from around the counter, lumbering toward the back of the shop. “I said, get the fuck out.”
I leave, picking up speed, my chest tight. By the time I return to my building, I’m shaking. I push open the battered front door and enter the foyer only to stop short.
