Page 43 of Protected from Reprisal
Rafe follows my gaze and says, “Eden and Noelle did it. I’m not sure why, since it’s not even Thanksgiving yet. But according to Eden, once it’s November, putting up holiday decorations is fair game.”
“My mom’s the same way. The second Halloween is over, she’s up in the attic, getting out all the Christmas decorations. I learned early on that it’s better to just go along with it.”
Rafe nods. “That’s what I’m discovering, too. Last year, when I dared suggest it might be too early to start decorating, Eden called me a Scrooge.” He shrugs. “Now I know better.”
The mention of Christmas turns my thoughts back to Yara again, just as they’ve been pretty much all day. From what she’s told me, the holidays aren’t the happiest time for her, which I understand—it’s a tough time of year when you’re missing loved ones. But I hate the idea of her spending another Thanksgiving or Christmas alone, like she admitted to doing for the last couple of years. She should be surrounded by people who care about her. Like her best friend, Annaliese. Her old GB teammates. And me.
Rafe’s phone chimes from his pocket, and he slows as he pulls it out to read the incoming text. He smiles, his hard features softening in a way that tells me the message is from Eden. Then he looks back over at me and says, “So. Eden wants to know if I asked you about bowling yet. Are you up for it?”
I shake my head. “I can’t. I’m heading up to Seattle for the weekend. Tell Eden I’m sorry to miss it, though.”
Rafe arches an eyebrow. “Seattle again?” The corner of his mouth twitches. “Weren’t you just there last weekend?”
“I was.” I start heading up the stairs that lead to my apartment on the third floor. One of the perks of working for Blade and Arrow is living in the same building as I work. It cuts down on the commute, for sure—a three-minute walk to my office is pretty damn nice—and it’s helpful being close by in case an emergency comes up.
Plus, it helps when my ghosts are being especially noisy and the walls of my apartment feel like they’re closing in. When that happens, I can head to the shared living room or down tothe basement to work out in our fully-equipped gym, where I’ll inevitably run into someone who’ll help take my mind off things.
“So…” Rafe prods, following me up the stairs even though he lives in a separate house on the property, so he and Eden can have more privacy. “Why are you going back to Seattle so soon? Hiking? Another training with the bomb squad? Or—” He smirks again. “Are you going to Rainier Beach to visit someone?”
Asshole. He knows why I’m going. He just wants to get me to admit it.
I glance at my watch, noting it’s been about half an hour since I told Yara I was almost ready to leave. If I take a lightning-fast shower, I should be able to get on the road in under fifteen minutes, which will put me at her house a little past eight-thirty.
“I’m going to see Yara,” I reply. “But I’m sure you knew that already.”
“I suspected.” As we reach the second flight of stairs, he adds, “I know it’s not my business. But what’s going on with you two?”
Part of me—the part that wants to keep this fledgling relationship with Yara to myself until I’m more certain of it—wants to agree that itisn’this business. That part wants to make up an excuse for going to see her; one that doesn’t carry implications of something deeper than friendship.
But Rafe is my friend. Not just my friend, but family in every way except blood. And that’s why I tell him the truth. “I’m not sure,” I admit.
His forehead creases. “You’re not sure?”
“I’m not sure.”
We reach the third floor and take a left down the hallway that leads to my apartment. “How are you not sure?” Rafe presses.
“We’ve been friends for a while now. I mean, I knew Yara before, of course. But ever since I stayed at her place last year, we’ve gotten… closer. Nothing romantic. But we’d check in with each other a few times a month, at least.”
Rafe watches while I unlock my door. Which I know isn’t necessary—this building has pretty much every security precaution in existence, from bulletproof windows and reinforced steel doors to a top-of-the-line alarm system—but it’s a habit I’m not sure I’ll ever let go. “But something changed. Am I right?”
“I guess so. In Tacoma, and then last weekend, things just felt… different.”
“And?”
“And I’m not sure where things are going. But I know I like spending time with her. So that’s what I’m going to do.”
Once I get inside my apartment, I set my laptop bag on the table beside the front door. Kicking my shoes off, I add, “I’ve got to get moving, though. I told Yara I’d be there around eight, eight-thirty. I don’t want to make her wait.”
Rafe lingers in the doorway. His expression is pensive. “You know she’s been through a rough time.”
“Yes. I know.”
He hesitates. “I’m just saying, if you’re not sure about her… Well, she could end up hurt. If she thinks things are going one way, but you’re feeling the opposite.”
“We’re on the same page,” I reply defensively. “And Yara’s an adult. She can make her own decisions about what she wants.”
“True. I guess all I’m saying is, be careful.”
