Chapter Ten
chapter ten
RAFAEL
“That’s a joke.”
“Nope.”
Leo shakes his head. “That’s just criminal. I don’t think I’ve ever known you to have an empty bed for more than a month, at most.”
“Trust me, I’d much prefer the company as well,” I say, before gulping down the last of my beer.
In the last four months, the bed beside me has been cold, much to my dismay. But I haven’t been able to focus on any woman for long enough to take her home. Something’s definitely wrong with me.
“I can certainly say I’ve been sleeping better having Isla in my bed,” Caio adds.
“Yeah, no need to brag, Mr. Love,” Leo says, leaning back in the booth. “We all know that girl is wearing you out big time. I’m surprised you can keep up.”
“Shut up, Leo,” Caio says. “Don’t make Rafael feel even worse. If I can’t keep up, this old dog definitely can’t.”
“Alright, I’m thirty-four, not sixty.”
“Anyone could be mistaken, given how much of a grouch you’ve been lately.” Caio gives me a pointed look .
“Well, I know a couple of sixty-year-olds and I can assure you, they still get plenty of action,” Leo says.
“Someone needs to tape your mouth shut,” I say, catching Marina’s attention from where she stands at the bar, signaling for another drink.
“Ouch,” Leo says. “A grouch alright.”
“How are you guys going?” Marina asks halfheartedly, placing replacement drinks in front of all of us. Her hair is tied up in a long braid down the back of her head, but it’s all frizzy and worry sits in the crease between her eyebrows.
“What’s up?” I ask before taking a sip of my cold beer.
“Ugh, it’s so busy and I promised May that I’d take her some food tonight, but I don’t know if I'll have the time.” She looks around like she can barely keep up with what's in front of her.
“Why are you taking her food?” Caio asks.
“She’s sick, like really sick, like can’t get off the couch sick.” Her eyes look over all of us, once, twice, scanning each of us before they land back on me. “Rafael?” she drags the word out and I already know where this is going.
“No.”
“How much do you love me?”
“Not enough.”
“Please? Pretty please?” I look away, avoiding her persuasive gaze.
Leo laughs under his breath. “This has got to be the one and only time Rafael has said no to a woman begging.”
Marina rolls her eyes as I pin him with a look.
“Please, Rafael? You’d be such a big help. I’m slammed here, and Rosemary Cottage is on the way to your place. You don’t even have to say hi. You could just leave it at the doorstep and ring the bell.”
“I’m not going to play ding dong ditch just cause I don’t want to see her.” I’m not that much of an asshole. Am I?
“Hey Marina?” One of the bartenders calls her over .
“Please, Rafael. I’ll give you free beers for a week.” I raise my eyebrows at her. “Okay, a bottle of whiskey.”
On any other day, or if anyone else asked me, I’d say no. But with the way Marina is looking at me, her eyes pleading at me to help her, I don't know how to. “Fine.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She kisses me on the cheek before running back to the bar.
“You’re such a sucker,” Caio laughs.
“Saves you buying a bottle for our next boys' night,” I say, raising my eyebrows.
“I can’t say it really breaks the bank, but thanks,” he teases.
“Screw you then,” I laugh. “I’ll keep this bottle at home.”
“Fine by me.”
Marina rushes over to us with two brown paper bags. One that’s carrying my delivery for the patient, and one in the shape of a bottle. I pull the bottle out to find that it’s a bottle of twenty-five-year-old Macallan. My mouth salivates just looking at it.
“Where the fuck was she hiding that?” Leo asks.
“We’re getting ripped off,” Caio’s eyes search for Marina, but she’s conveniently disappeared.
This is so worth playing Uber Eats for one night.
“I take it back; you can bring that to boys' night. Your place? Now?”
“ Vaffanculo. You lost your chance. Tonight looks like me and Macallan here, on my couch until I fall asleep.”
Caio shakes his head. “Don’t forget your delivery.” He nods to the other bag beside me.
I scrunch up the top of the bag, making sure it stays warm. I don’t like the girl, but delivering a cold takeaway dinner is just wrong.
I swing my legs out the end of the booth and stand up, grabbing the bag before I go.
“ Ciao , have a good night.” I salute them before I walk out the door. I can’t wait to get home, get my ass on that couch and pour myself a glass of whiskey .
I just need to drop this dinner off first.
It’s getting dark as I drive towards Rosemary Cottage. The sun is setting earlier as we near the end of summer, but it’s still plenty warm enough. The gray clouds against the dark sky almost look like smoke floating on the cool breeze.
My bottle of Macallan sits beside me in the passenger seat of my truck. I strapped it in, just in case.
I can’t wait to get rid of this food and get home. My truck stinks of shitty bar food, Marina really needs to find a better cook. She rotates through bar staff pretty regularly as temps come in and out while they travel, but she’s had the same kitchen crew since she opened the place. The chef is half average, but she’ll never replace him.
I turn another windy corner. The area that Rosemary Cottage is in is beautiful, I can’t deny that. All of the places here are quaint and cozy looking, like something out of a fairytale. It’s charming really, the complete opposite of my ultra-modern renovated place. A part of me aches for the feeling that a little place like this makes you feel. At home.
I round the corner to Rosemary Cottage and immediately slam on the brakes. “Fuck!”
Amber flames blaze in front of me.
Those weren’t clouds. It was smoke.
Rosemary Cottage is on fire.
My brain stalls as I watch the fire grow every second I sit here, watching the way the smoke drifts from the roof of the house all the way down the street.
Where is May? The thought slams into the forefront of my mind.
I don’t think I’ve ever put my truck into park quicker than I have just now. I open the door and slam it behind me .
“May!” I scream.
My stomach hollows out as I look around, my eyes not able to focus on anything with the smoky haze surrounding me.
She’s got to be outside somewhere. There’s no way she’s still inside. She’s smarter than that.
How the fuck did this happen?
As I get closer to the house, the flames double in size. Smoke billows out from under the front door like a waterfall. Terror floods my system.
“May!” I scream again, running around the side of the cottage.
She’s not here.
She’s not here.
My stomach drops even further, something I didn’t even know it could do. She’s inside. How did this happen?
My mind snaps at the fact that I came here with the purpose of bringing May food because she is sick.
Like really sick.
Like can’t get off the couch sick.
I grab at the door handle, but quickly pull away as it singes my hand. “Fuck!” I hiss.
I rip my shirt off, wrapping it around the handle so I can get in there. I don’t know what I’ll find, and the heavy feeling of dread sinks in.
I wrench the door open, and smoke comes pouring out into my face. I cough, putting my shirt over my nose and mouth before taking a step inside.
All I see is red.
Red and orange behind the smoke.
The kitchen is gone. It’s completely engulfed in flames, the whole room swallowed by the fire. I’ve been to this cottage a couple of times over the years, but right now I’m completely disorientated, the flames distorting the space around me.
My head snaps across the room when I hear a cough.
“May?!” I yell, my voice muffled through my shirt.
Another cough .
Oh my god.
I race across the room to see May doubled over beside the couch, coughing her guts out.
I freeze. My body is unresponsive as I look over her. She looks frail, her body weak, and her eyes afraid. Seeing her like this makes my stomach churn.
“Rafael?” She coughs, and it snaps me out of it.
I crouch down to meet her, passing her my shirt and placing it over her mouth. “What the fuck happened?”
She just shakes her head. We don't have time for her to explain.
The flames flare from the kitchen. That horrible whooshing noise invading my senses as the heat burns its way up my bare upper body. “Okay, time to go.”
May tries to push herself up, but she’s too weak. She sinks back to her knees with a sob, and my heart cracks at the sound of it.
A bang sounds from behind me as a beam tumbles to the ground by the door. If we don’t get out of here now, we’ll get stuck.
“We need to move,” I say, grabbing her under her arm, but she can barely get up. I pick her up, one hand holding her weak upper body and the other under her knees. She instinctively wraps her arms around me and buries her head into my neck, hiding from the flames.
The beam fell right in our way, blocking the doorway.
I look around for another way out, but the back door is next to the kitchen. That option is off the table.
“Rafael?” May looks up at me. Those green eyes peering up at me with pure fear laced in them. Her body is trembling in my arms, and I just hold on tighter. She’s in shock. We need to get out of here. Now. “It’s alright. You’re alright, I’ve got you.”
I survey the area, trying to make quick work of a solution to getting the hell out of here before we burn alive. I could jump over that beam if I just pull that side table over. It would be a stretch, but it’s better than being charred.
But May can’t. There’s no way she can get over that, not with the state she’s in.
My heart races as I look around us. We are running out of time. My mind shuffles through solutions, and it lands on the fire extinguisher that sits in the back of my truck. I internally thank my nonna for forcing me to always keep one in the car just in case .
I need to make a decision. Now.
“Okay.” I set May down on her feet. “I need you to wait here for me, alright?”
She shakes her head, tears cascading down her face in a steady stream. Her grip tightening on my forearms. Any animosity between us has vanished in this moment. There’s only terror, and what I hope is trust between us now.
“I’m coming straight back, I promise. I’m going to get you out of here, May. Can you wait here for me?”
She nods, crying even harder.
I push her hair out of her face, holding her head in my hands. “I will not leave you here.”
She nods again, and my body is screaming not to let her go as I turn around to face the beam. My body is running on adrenaline and fear. Not for myself, but for the girl I just left behind.
I drag the little table over, bringing it close enough that it won’t catch, but so that I can make the jump. I climb up onto it, and now that I’m up here, I’m sure May couldn’t make this jump. Making me even more determined that I have to.
I let out a breath and jump. I hear a gasp as I land, tumbling into the wall beside the front door, but I landed.
I turn to look behind me and there’s May, her terrified eyes meeting mine. Her cheeks are shining from her endless stream of tears. She’s got her arms wrapped around her body as she stands surrounded by flames, and it looks like my worst nightmare.
The scene catapults me into action as I sprint towards my truck. I skid to a halt as I hit it. I reach into the bed, my hand roaming around until it lands on what I need.
I turn around and the scene in front of me looks ten times worse than it did when I arrived. I tuck the extinguisher under my arm as I run back to the cottage. Fear driving my body across the lawn.
When I look through the doorway, May isn’t where I left her, and my mind starts running with worst-case scenarios. My heart beating so loudly it nearly drowns out the sound of the flames beside me.
“May!” My voice is hoarse as I scream out for her.
A hand raises from behind the beam. I don’t waste another second before yanking out the pin and letting the foam spray over the beam in front of me. The flames go out immediately, allowing me to see the girl behind it. May is on the floor, my shirt still over her mouth as she coughs.
I quickly climb over the beam. The fire is still overwhelming the rest of the house around us, but I don’t have time to worry about that right now. I collect May up into my arms once again, climbing back over the beam and out the door before something else crashes behind us. May squeals in my arms at the sound and I hold her tighter to me. “You’re safe,” I say. “You’re safe.”
I don’t stop moving until I reach my truck. I open the passenger door and place May down in the seat. “I need to call for help,” I say, reaching across the dashboard to grab my phone. She doesn’t respond.
I fumble with my phone, willing my shaking hands to still as I call the fire service. It rings and rings. I look back to May and her eyes are glazed over as she looks at the cottage burning in front of her.
“Oh my god,” she breathes, another tear slipping down her face.
I finally get through. “Yeah, hi, we need help.”