Chapter 2 Gasoline on Cold Ashes

The loud click of the front door unlocking woke me up around two in the morning. I was sitting on the edge of the large bed in the master bedroom, still wearing my thick sweater, unable to sleep.

Heavy footsteps echoed down the wooden hallway. A moment later, Joe walked into the bedroom. He looked disheveled, his expensive jacket wet from the rain, his necktie loosened around his neck.

"Dara? You're still awake?" Joe asked, blinking at me in the dim light of the bedside lamp.

"Where were you, Joe?" I asked, keeping my voice quiet. "You left me here alone for hours. The power went out. The roads are completely blocked."

Joe sighed heavily, tossing his car keys onto the wooden dresser. He walked over to the bed, rubbing the back of his neck with a tired expression.

"I told you I had to handle things for my father in town," Joe said smoothly. "My car got stuck near the lower crossing because of the rising water. I had to wait for a tow truck in the rain. I came back as fast as I could."

He leaned down toward me, reaching out his arms to give me a hug. But as his body got closer, a sharp smell filled my nose. It wasn't the smell of rain, mud, or engine oil.

It was the strong smell of sweet, cheap floral perfume mixed with stale alcohol.

My stomach turned over violently. A sudden wave of intense revulsion rushed through my body, so strong that I pushed his hands away before he could even lay a finger on my shoulders.

"Don't," I blurted out, pulling my knees up to my chest on the mattress.

Joe froze, his eyebrows pulling together in confusion. "What is wrong with you? I just drove through a dangerous storm to get back to you, Dara."

"Who were you with, Joe?" I asked, staring straight at his face.

"What kind of ridiculous question is that?" Joe snapped, his voice rising slightly. "I was at the repair shop waiting for my car! I told you that!"

"You smell like perfume," I said flatly.

Joe stared at me for a second, then he let out a loud, frustrated laugh. "Perfume? Are you serious right now? The woman working the front desk at the towing station was wearing some tacky spray. It probably rubbed off on my coat when she handed me my invoice. You're being completely crazy."

He shook his head, pulling off his shirt and tossing it into the corner of the room. "I am exhausted, Dara. I don't have time for your childish jealousy tonight."

He climbed into the other side of the bed, pulling the heavy blankets up to his chest, and turned his back to me. I lay on my side near the extreme edge of the mattress, my heart beating fast, staring at the dark wall until the morning light began to bleed through the window blinds.

By seven in the morning, the rain had finally stopped, leaving a heavy fog hanging over the pine trees outside. I walked out of the bedroom, needing a glass of water to clear my dry throat.

The hallway leading to the kitchen was narrow, lined with old wooden panels. As I walked past the guest room door, a tall shadow stepped out right in front of me.

I stopped quickly, nearly bumping into a broad chest.

Rafael stood there, completely bare foot, wearing only a pair of grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips. The dark black ink of his tattoos covered his shoulders and arms, contrasting sharply with his pale skin. His dark hair was messy from sleep, and his chest was bare.

Instead of stepping back into his room to let me pass, Rafael took a deliberate step forward.

"Good morning, little bride," Rafael rumbled in his low, raspy voice.

His broad shoulder pressed right against mine as he crowded me into the narrow wall of the hallway. The heat coming off his skin was intense, filling the tight space between us instantly. I felt my pulse jump straight into my throat.

"Rafael, move," I whispered, pressing my back against the cold wood behind me. "Joe is awake."

Rafael let out a short, dark smirk. He didn't move an inch. Instead, he leaned his head down until his lips were inches away from my ear, his breath hot against my sensitive skin.

"Your golden boy sleeps like a dead man," Rafael murmured softly. "Did he give you a nice story about his late night last night?"

"He told me what happened," I said, trying to keep my voice firm, though my chest was heaving under my sweater.

"Did he tell you he was down at the local tavern in the valley?" Rafael whispered, his fingers lightly brushing against my waist as he squeezed past me. "Did he mention the blonde girl sitting on his lap while he drank his father's money away?"

My heart stopped beating for a full second. I stared up at his sharp jawline. "You're lying."

"I don't need to lie about him, Dara," Rafael said, his dark eyes locking onto mine with a cold, piercing intensity. "He leaves cheap perfume on his clothes because he knows you're too quiet to say anything. He thinks you belong to him no matter what he does."

Rafael reached out, his thumb tracing a slow line down my lower jaw, making my whole body shiver from the unexpected contact.

"You deserve a man who stays in your bed," Rafael growled softly, "not a boy who hides in the dark."

Before I could answer, the sound of a bedroom door opening echoed down the hall. Rafael pulled his hand back slowly, gave me one last lingering look, and strolled casually toward the kitchen.

I stood in the narrow hallway, my face burning, my knees feeling completely weak.

Joe stepped out of the bedroom a moment later, wearing his pants and a clean shirt, looking at me with a annoyed expression on his face.

"Who were you talking to out here?" Joe asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

I took a deep breath, turning around to face him directly. The anger that had been building inside me all night finally boiled over to the surface.

"We need to talk right now, Joe," I said, my voice shaking with raw emotion. "I know you weren't just at a towing station last night. I know you were at the tavern in town."

Joe’s face went rigid for a quick second, then a furious red flush crept up his neck.

"Are you tracking me now?" Joe shouted, stepping close to me. "I went to the tavern to get a hot meal while waiting for my car! Is that a crime?"

"You're lying to my face!" I yelled back, tears of frustration stinging the corners of my eyes. "You leave me alone in a storm, you come back smelling like another woman, and then you treat me like I'm crazy for asking questions!"

"Because you are acting crazy!" Joe barked, grabbing both of my wrists tightly in his hands. "You've been stressed out over this wedding for months, Dara! You're letting your nerves make up insane stories in your head! I am working my fingers to the bone for our future, and all you do is complain!"

He squeezed my wrists harder, staring down at me with angry eyes. "You need to pull yourself together before the family arrives today. I won't let you ruin my father's dinner with your hysterical drama."

He let go of my hands abruptly, shoving past me toward the front door.

I stood alone in the hallway, clutching my bruised wrists to my chest. My mind was spinning out of control. But as I looked up toward the kitchen doorway, I saw Rafael standing in the shadows, watching us with dark, lethal eyes that looked ready to tear Joe apart.