Chapter 10
Ten
Rafel
I want him. It’s not exactly a new revelation but it’s one I can no longer ignore.
Fuck, do I want him. So damn bad. A dangerous, unhealthy amount.
I can’t go more than a couple of minutes without thinking about the gentle sound of his laugh and tilted smile.
Six movies and twenty calls later is all it’s taken
to hook me so hard, I’m unable to break from this hold he has on me no matter how much I ignore his calls. This isn’t good. I have to try harder. If not for myself, then for him.
I woke up at the park again. It’s the only place my body can connect him to.
It takes me there hoping he’ll be there too.
He won’t. He’s somewhere I’ve never been and hasn’t given me too much information about.
It needs to stay that way. My nails dig into my knees, and I rock forward on my couch as flashbacks I hate reliving flood my memories.
Rory is screaming and a bright light is shining above me. I’m shielding my eyes and someone is behind me, twisting my arm up my back until a knife falls next to my feet.
My breaths scratch at the back of my throat, and my skin tightens around me.
It’s suffocating. I hate being stuck here, unable to pull myself out of the paralyzing episode I’m having.
That look of horror and anger in Rory’s eyes has haunted me for the last year.
My nails scratch so hard at the fabric of my jeans that I’m nearly piercing my skin.
Remembering what my therapist told me, I breathe through the panic running through me.
It was a whole year ago, but it feels like I just got shoved into the back of the police car while being followed by those harsh, unforgettable eyes.
Rory once said he could never hate me and yet it was all I felt rolling off him in that moment.
I thought I was seeing things when a familiar face appeared behind him and large arms wrapped around his stiff shoulders.
I wish I was. Hunter held him in place, stopping him from coming to where I was, shouting at me through the window—“What the hell is wrong with you, Hernandez?”—the exact way he did when we were overseas together and I asked him about what I couldn’t remember the night before.
Did he tell Rory what he wouldn’t tell me?
I wasn’t going to hurt the man I loved. I know I wasn’t.
I swore up and down about it being some misunderstanding, but Rory wouldn’t hear it.
“I can’t do this with you anymore, Raf,” were the last words he said to me.
That should have been me whispering reassuring words in his ear and wiping his tears.
Not my old friend. Instead, I was the cause of it all.
It was one thing for the men I worked with and considered friends to be scared of me, but there should never have been a scenario that led him to that place.
Rory was there when I thought I was at my lowest point, but he didn’t stay when I actually was.
Why would he? The coming home late, not able to tell him where I’d been.
The blood he’d scrub off my shoes, asking over and over for me to try to remember where it came from.
He couldn’t do it anymore, and I guess I was having a harder time with that revelation than I thought.
It doesn’t matter if I thought I’d never hurt him, Rory was sure I wanted to. Everyone was.
Huey nudges at my hand with his snout and I scratch between his ears, giving him the massage. “Want to go for a walk, bud?”
He snorts, jumping from the couch and looking back at me as he paces in front of the door. “I’ll take that as a yes,” I say between chuckles, slowly getting to my feet. As I’m walking out the door, my phone makes a loud chirping sound, and I sigh as my eyes scan over the screen.
My chest squeezes tight as I reject the request. Someone else will take it again. Someone else already has. Maybe many different people. Will he ask them to watch movies with him too? Will they be there when he rolls cookies down off the counter and that laugh of his flows through the phone.
Yeah, I think I’m way beyond hope at this point, and being cooped up in my house all day doesn’t help.
The short walks with Huey are starting not to either.
An impatient Huey drags me forward, barely giving me time to close the door behind me.
He sniffs around my car, and as I tug at his lead, my eyes widen at the flat tires. What the hell?
They were fine this morning. I circle the car and they’re all flat. Gashes line random areas of each tire. What the hell? Who would do this? Teeth clenching harder, I look around, but the only other person outside is an elderly neighbor, Mrs. Roberts.
She waves my way, lifting her watering can with her other hand, and I force a smile, waving back.
Letting out a deep sigh, I decide to deal with this all tomorrow and continue with our daily stroll.
It doesn’t make sense why anyone would slash my tires?
Was it random? Had to be. No one really knows me here.
I haven’t given them much of a chance to.
Sure, the baristas at the local coffee shop and some of the grocery store clerks know me by name, but that’s the extent of it.
“Morning,” someone shouts, walking past me on the trail.
“Morning,” I say back, moving my feet quicker to match Huey’s pace, and my mind goes back to where it was before.
Trying to put all the pieces together like always.
I hate how this is becoming the norm. Did someone see what I did back at that trailer?
Was I followed home? There’s a prickly sensation at the back of my neck, and my eyes search frantically around me for signs of anyone who might be suspicious.
Only two other people cross paths with me—one younger blonde woman with her rat terrier and an older gentleman with small weights in his hands.
My fingers tighten their grip on Huey’s lead and I walk faster, eager to get back home and lock myself in the comfort of my own space again.
I’m safe there. Out here, there are too many noises.
Cracking of leaves, snapping branches, chirps of birds, and trampling feet of squirrels.
Voices grow louder at the opposite end of the trail. People are catching up to me. My instincts tell me not to let them. Picking up my speed, I’m the one dragging my pet pig this time, and he stomps his feet, letting me know he’s not a fan of me rushing him.
“Sorry, bud. I’m feeling a bit out of sorts here today.”
He looks up at me, tail wagging as he makes long strides to keep up with me. Sometimes it’s like he understands me. At least better than most people these days. There’s no judgment or pity in his eyes either.
My phone vibrates in my pocket and I sigh, lifting it up to look at who it is. I already know before my eyes reach the screen. It’s him again. Hasn’t he met someone who’ll help him better than I have yet? He does get that no one else requires my assistance as much as he does, right?
I’ve been pretty okay with that too, because it allowed me to have more availability for whenever he needed me. My heart stops when the phone does, feeling foreign in my chest, and as I exit the trail to head back to my house, I’m alerted of someone needing help again.
Henry. For the second time in a row. Was he unable to get hold of someone else?
Did I really want him to? I bite at my lower lip with my thumb hovering over the answer button.
Every part of me wants to tap it. I need it to be me who is here for him.
My breaths skip and my fingers shake as I inhale deeply.
I don’t let out the long breath until seconds later.
My phone is still going off, and the longing to ask him what he needs from me hasn’t gone away.
My chest aches the longer I go with seeing his name and not answering.
He needs me. Not anyone else. Just me. I can’t just leave him hanging.
I can’t let him think I’m another person who decided to no longer be here for him.
“Hi,” I say, trying to steady my voice the best I can.
“Hey. You’re actually there.”
“I’m here.”
“I . . . sorry.” He sounds a little strained. “I didn’t mean to ring you again. I have to figure out how to reset this thing again.”
“It’s okay. I was out for a walk.”
“With Huey?” His voice perks up.
“Yeah.” I laugh half-heartedly. “With Huey. Wish you could see what I see right now. The neighborhood is covered in reindeer, Santas, and lights. It’s like a mini–North Pole out here.”
“Yeah? Describe them to me.”
Looking around, I smile and tell him exactly what I see.
The snowflakes dangling from trees and roofs.
Protectors casting little shows on garage doors and Christmas trees lighting up through the windows.
There’s a candy-cane lane next door to me, and on the other side of that house is a gingerbread village.
“Sounds like some of the movies we’ve seen.”
“It does. Want me to walk down further and tell you more, or did you need me to help you with something first?”
A puff of air comes from the other end of the line. “If it’s not too much to ask, I’d like to hear more. What I called for can wait.”
“Okay.” Huey doesn’t seem at all bothered about getting to be outside longer as we walk from house to house. I stop in front of one with singing lights and hold the phone up so he can hear them better.
“‘Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.’ One of my favorite Christmas songs.”
“You sure it’s not ‘All I Want for Christmas’” by Mariah Carey?”
He laughs. “I’m positive. I’m completely fine going the remainder of my life not hearing that song.”
“So, this is why you went out there alone. You’re hiding from a certain song.”
He laughs again. “Ah. You caught me.”
I walk past a few more houses and even sit inside a sled someone put in front of their house as a photo op for others, going on about how roomy it is.
“Would there be room for me too?”