Chapter 37 The Book Boyfriend #2
Her eyes narrow, suspicion flickering across her face. “No—you’re just saying that. He’s a PI. He’ll go to the police.”
My heart hammers against my ribs. “No, I mean it. You’ll leave, and I’ll call the ambulance and convince Rafael not to say anything. We can still fix this. We can still save the podcast.”
She hesitates, the gun wavering slightly in her hand. My eyes flick to Rafael, my heart aching as I see the blood still seeping from his wound. I have to keep it together, have to convince Celeste fast.
“Please, Celeste,” I implore, my voice faltering. “Just go. We’ll figure everything out. But I need to save him. Please.”
I hold my breath, waiting for her response.
When a sudden noise echoes from somewhere in the building, her head snaps up. She glares at me, her eyes narrowing. “Don’t say a word,” she hisses between her teeth, her voice razor-sharp. “If I hear a single noise, I’ll come back and kill him.”
Before I can respond, she turns on her heel and storms out of the room, leaving me alone with Rafael.
My heart races, pounding so loudly I’m sure she can hear it from wherever she is.
Once I move my hand to Rafael’s injury, I feel a sudden grip on my wrist. Dark gray eyes with golden flecks stare up at me.
“Rafael,” I say, relief flooding me. “You’re okay. You’re—”
“You have to leave,” he says, his voice weak but urgent. “Now.”
“What? I’m not leaving you.”
“You have to,” he insists, his grip on my wrist tightening despite his obvious pain. “Drive away, then call the police. Do it now, before she decides not to let you go.”
“Rafael, I’m not leaving you here,” I say, shaking my head firmly. I look back at the door, then insist, “So tell me what to do.”
His eyes flicker with frustration, and he gestures weakly with his free hand. “My gun,” he says, eyes darting to his waist. “Take it, and give it to me.”
I see the gun tucked into the waistband of his pants, on the same side as his injury. I reach for it, but when I try to hand it to him, he struggles to sit up and fails, slumping back down with a groan of pain.
That’s when I see it—blood trickling from the back of his head, staining the carpet beneath him. My breath catches in my throat, and I instinctively pull him back down, my hand gently cradling his head. “Rafael, your head,” I whimper.
He tries to speak, but the pain is too much. I can see it in his eyes—the frustration, the helplessness. I’m alone in this, and I have to do something.
I look down at the gun in my hand, the cold metal heavy and unfamiliar. I’ve never held a gun before, and now I might have to use it against someone I thought was my friend. My stomach twists at the thought, but I don’t have a choice, do I?
Swallowing hard, I fumble with the safety, my fingers trembling as I slide it off. The soft click feels deafening in the silence, a point of no return.
Celeste is coming back, her footsteps echoing in the hallway, and I beg myself to stand. My heart leaps into my throat as I rise, holding the gun out in front of me with both hands.
When she enters the room, her eyes widen in shock. She raises her own gun, pointing it directly at me, and for a moment, we just stand there, staring at each other, our weapons aimed.
It’s like time stands still.
“I can’t let him die, Celeste,” I beg. “Please, don’t make me shoot you. Please.”
Eyes set on her, I will her to understand, to see that I don’t want to hurt her. My hands shake, every instinct screaming at me to run, to drop the gun and get out of here, but I can’t. I can’t leave Rafael.
After what feels like an eternity, her arm wavers, and slowly, she lowers her gun. Tears well up in her eyes, and her shoulders start shaking. “I can’t shoot you, Scarlett. Just… just kill me and get it over with.”
I lower my gun, too, taking a cautious step toward her. “I won’t, Celeste,” I say in between pants. “We can figure this out. Everything will be okay.”
“No, it won’t,” she sobs. “I’ll go to prison, and the podcast will fail. We’re screwed, Scarlett. We’re drowning in debt.”
Drowning in debt? What?
“Celeste, listen to me,” I say, closing the distance between us. “We’ll figure it out. You’ve been there for me, and I’ll be there for you. But first, we need to make sure no one else gets hurt.”
I reach out and pull her into a hug, feeling her body shake against mine. As I let her go, my hand slips into my pocket, and in one quick movement, I press my Taser against her side and activate it.
She jerks, her body convulsing as the electric shock courses through her. I catch her as she crumples to the floor, my breath coming in rapid gasps as I delicately set her head down.
“Doesn’t feel so pink now, does it?” I say as I drop the Taser and rush back to Rafael’s side.
In an instant, I grab my phone, my fingers trembling as I dial 911. The operator answers, her voice steady and professional, but it feels distant, like I’m underwater.
“This is 911, what’s your emergency?”
I try to speak, but my throat is so tight that it takes a moment before any words come out. “I— Th-there’s been a shooting,” I stammer, looking into Rafael’s eyes. “My boyfriend, he’s bleeding. We need an ambulance, please.”
“Stay calm, ma’am. What’s your location?”
“We’re at—at the Booked It office, Willowbrook.”
“Is the shooter still on the scene?” she asks, and I glance at Celeste’s unconscious form, sprawled on the floor.
“She’s… she’s down. I tased her.”
Thank God I stopped by my place to get it.
“Is she alive? Can you check—”
“No!” I nearly scream into the phone. “I don’t care about her, and I’m not leaving my boyfriend. You have to save him, to—”
“Scarlett.” He sets a calming hand on my thigh. “They’re just making sure you’re safe.”
I take a shaky breath. “I’m—I’m sorry, but please, hurry. He’s losing so much blood.”
She reassures me that help is on the way and keeps asking questions about Rafael’s condition, the location of his wounds, if he’s conscious.
I answer, but my eyes keep darting back to him, and his face is pale, his breathing shallow.
It feels like hours before she finally says, “The ambulance is on its way, ma’am.
Stay with him, and try to keep pressure on the wound. ”
“I will,” I choke out. “Please, just hurry.”
Rafael squeezes my hand, his grip weak but insistent. “Scarlett,” he rasps. “You should go. Celeste could wake up.”
I let out a laugh, though there’s no humor in it. It’s shaky, edged with panic. “If you think I’m leaving you, you’re out of your mind.”
His eyes search mine. “I know things went to shit, but I need to tell you something, Scarlett… I—”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I cut him off, my voice sharp with fear. I know what he’s going to say, and I can’t bear to hear it. Not like this.
“Let me…” He tries again, his voice fainter this time.
“No,” I snap, pressing harder on his injury, feeling the warm blood coat the cardigan and my hands. “You won’t tell me you love me because you think you’re dying.”
“I don’t just think I’m dying.”
“No!” I shout, my voice cracking as I stare at the injury, as if I can keep him alive by sheer willpower. “You’re not dying. You’ll be fine. Everything will be fine.”
“Scarlett,” he says, his hand trembling as it grips my wrist. “I don’t want this to be one of my regrets.”
“You’ll tell me at the hospital,” I insist, barely holding it together.
It feels like I’m going to vomit or pass out, like my body just wants to reject the situation altogether.
Wants to escape it. “Once you’re patched up and we talk about why you came here alone.
” There’s a weight on my chest that makes it hard to breathe.
“Spoiler alert: we’re getting back together so I can dump you. ”
He chuckles, but it turns into a groan. His skin is cold, clammy, and his eyes are unfocused. He looks so fragile, so close to slipping away. It rips through me like a knife.
“This is all my fault,” I sob, my voice trembling with guilt and fear. “If you’d never come back—”
“I don’t regret you for a second, Freckles,” he murmurs. “Not one.”
His eyes flutter closed, and I panic, shaking him. “No, Rafael, don’t fall asleep! The ambulance is coming. Please!”
His eyes open again. “It’s okay.”
“Stop saying it’s okay! You’re being selfish!
” I cry as I watch that infuriatingly gentle smile that makes me want to scream and hold him tighter all at once.
“No, stop looking at me like that. Ethan needs you. I need you. You’re not leaving me, you hear me?
You’re going to be screamed at, and then you’re going to grovel, and then we’ll be together forever.
I can’t face everything alone. I can’t get over you, Rafael. ”
“Okay.” His voice is barely audible now. “You’re right. Breathe.”
“Don’t tell me to breathe,” I snap, even as I try to force air into my lungs. “I’m taking care of you, not the other way around.” I choke back a sob. “The romance hero doesn’t die at the end of the story. You promised me a love worthy of a romance book.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” I glare at him through my tears. “Or I would be sorry if… but I’m not.”
“Right.”
“But just in case…”
“Rafael…”
“If you don’t want me to say it, then you do it, please.”
I’m pressing down as hard as I can, but the bleeding won’t stop. It’s everywhere, and I don’t even know if it’s the shoulder wound or the injury on his head that’s killing him. “No, no!” I plead, shaking my head frantically. “At the hospital, Rafael.”
“Okay. But you know, right?”
I nod furiously, my tears falling faster. “I know.”
“And you feel the same?”
“I do.”
“Give me a kiss.”
“No, Rafael.”
“It’s just a kiss.”
“It’s a goodbye kiss. I’m not giving you—”
“I promise, it’s not a goodbye kiss. Just a kiss. Please.”
I lean forward and kiss him, my lips trembling against his. They softly part, welcoming mine, but soon they stop moving, and when I pull back, he’s still awake, but barely. He’s looking up at the ceiling, his eyes distant.
“At least I’m the best version of myself,” he mumbles.
“You are,” I say, choking up. “You’ve always been. You’re one of the best people I know, Rafael.”
I hear the distant wail of ambulance sirens and feel a surge of relief, but when I look down at him, his eyes are closed. I shake him, but he doesn’t respond. “No, no, no.”
I lean the side of my face against his chest but I can’t feel any movement, and then someone’s pulling me away from behind.
I fight, desperate to stay with Rafael, but then I realize it’s the paramedics.
They’re here, they’re going to save him, and I watch as they try to reanimate him, my heart breaking with every second that passes.
I’m crying and screaming at whoever’s holding me to let me go, because all I can think about is that I didn’t tell him the one thing he wanted to hear. That I love him.
“I’m sorry,” I wail, my voice raw. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please,” I repeat, as I’m taken out of the room, my world collapsing around me.