Page 20 of Married to the Devil

“Tell me.”

“I’ve noticed men. It’s weird, you know? We live in the city and there are people all over the place. But it’s like… they were following me? And there was a car parked outside my place.”

“Describe them and the vehicle, please.”

“Am I in trouble? What’s going on?”

“Please, June. Tell me what you can.”

She places the icepack down in her lap and gives me generic information. A black car. Rough-looking individuals. Nothing that rings a bell or makes it clear who sent me that photograph or who might be keeping an eye on her.

But one thing’s certain.

She’s been found, and now she’s in danger.

“I thought I was going crazy, but it’s real, isn’t it? People really are following me?”

“It’s possible. I can’t be sure yet.”

“Why? And what does it have to do with you?”

I open my mouth but shut it again. This girl… this beautiful girl…

She has no fucking idea who and what I am.

Do I want to tell her here? In this nice kitchen? In the middle of this safe life she built for herself and her daughter?

The longer I sit at her table, the more I’m sure I’m defiling this space.

“You don’t have to worry.” The lie comes out easily enough. Better to keep her calm than to give her the truth: your life is in danger and it’s because of me. “I’ll keep an eye on things.”

“I don’t even understand what’s going on.”

I stand and back away. She goes to come after me, but sinks into her chair again with a grunt, the icepack spilling to the floor.

It takes all my power not to rush to her side.

That won’t help. Touching her, making sure she’s okay—that won’t help at all.

“Nothing will change in your life. Go about your business like you always do. Don’t think about this again.”

“But Rafe, wait⁠—“

“It’s better this way. I’m sorry, doll. I told myself I wouldn’t bother you, but…”

“Hattie’s upstairs.” She says it fast. Like if she doesn’t rush the words, she might swallow them down. “She asked about you a few weeks ago.”

My chest aches. It hurts in a way I haven’t experienced in a long time, not since that night standing beside the wreckage of my family’s home. I turn my back on June and steel myself.

“One last question. Have you been with anyone?”

It slips out before I can stop myself. Weak, weak, weak, fucking pathetic.

But she only laughs. “Seriously?”

“I want to know.”

“I tried once. I had a boyfriend a few years back, but it didn’t work out. Why are you even asking?”