Rafe X Barry Novels & Stories

My name. I slammed the laptop shut, needing air, needing distance. --- The next morning, Marge handed me coffee without asking. I took it in silence. The garage was already busy, engines roaring and tools clanking. Marge introduced the crew with the same casual tone she used for everything. “That’s Rafe,” she said, pointing to a bearded guy. “He’s the shop’s conscience. Don’t let it fool you. He’s stabbed someone for less than a busted chain.”

She was the seeker of truth, the weaver of narratives. Rafael "Raf" Solis, a charismatic and quick-witted Logistics and Procurement Specialist, was the team’s fixer. In his mid-thirties, Raf could acquire anything, transport anything, and make anything disappear. He had a vast network of contacts in every corner of Wisteria’s underworld, and his loyalty was to Baron Vance, who had always treated him with respect, even when their paths diverged. He was the master of the impossible, the man who made things happen.

I saw sharp lines, numbers, shapes, symbols I could not understand. A scar cut through his left eyebrow and down toward his cheek. But it was his eyes that stopped me. They were grey. Cold. And fixed on the man blocking the door. The whole bar seemed to hold its breath around him. The bartender stopped wiping a glass. The pool cue lowered. The drunk man’s hand dropped from the door. “Cain,” Rafe said, trying for a laugh and missing. “I was just being friendly.” Cain said nothing. He only looked at him and Rafe took one step away from me. Then another.

I remember thinking, on the drive over, that I would feel sorry for him. Then I saw him. Rafael Belmont at twenty-seven was the most beautiful and the most terrifying thing I'd ever stood in front of. He wore his grief like armor, his face blank, his posture controlled, nothing escaping through the cracks. But the moment his eyes met mine across the room, something happened that I still couldn't name. The world went very quiet. Just for a second.

"Never been here before." "Ah. A Barb's virgin." I let out a nervous laugh. "I guess you could say that." He's got a crooked smile, and somehow that makes the whole package more enticing. "Well, we'll have to fix that," he says. In the deep, rich tones of his voice, that comment sounds a lot more suggestive than I'm sure he intended. But then he holds out his hand to me. "I'm Rafe, by the way."

Coffee went cold. I returned to our house despite the restrictions. The place still carried the scent of lemon and spice. I moved quickly. Clothes. Documents. Essentials. I didn’t look at anything long enough to feel it. Cole drove us to Rafe’s apartment after that. It hadn’t been lived in for three months. Not since Rafe was admitted to the hospital. He’s twenty-two. Still hasn’t found his mate. He used to joke about being unlucky. Now he’s bedridden. Two days before the trial, I go to see him.

"But he's here. And he's real. And Cael asked us to watch out for his family." Dominic was quiet for a long moment. Then, with the controlled emotion of a man who has decided that managing things is not, in this instance, the right response: "Yes. He did." Rafe appeared in the doorway at the end of the second hour, and the expression on his face was the most open thing I had ever seen from him—raw, moved, badly controlled, and not trying to be otherwise. He looked at Dominic for a long moment. "He looks like him," Rafe said. Just that.

He radiated “touch my daughter and I’ll break your spine in half.” Rafe flicked his gaze over each of them quickly, trying not to look like he was cataloguing threats. Then his eyes landed on Baylee. He froze for a second. Then, to her disgust, he smiled. “Baylee Vale,” he said. “Damn. You’re still pretty.” Heather’s knife hit the wall point-first between Rafe’s head and his ear with a loud thunk. Rafe jerked. Heather smiled sweetly. “Oops,” she said.

A voice said beating me to the words. I turned as the door opened watching as Rafael walked inside. He was dressed in an expensive suit and his shoes were glossing. From his outfit, I could tell he had just rushed over from a formal event. He was the last person I wanted to see. Not after he had served my sister with divorce papers and abadoned her for the sake of power and another w**re. However he was the only one who could leave here with Lauren and keep her safe. “What are you doing here, you b***ard child?” Barbara asked as Rafael's men entered the room behind him surrounding the place.

He waved and left the office in hurry. “Whats with him”? Xavier asked a chuckling Caroline. “He has a thing for Chelsea”. She summed up and this time Xavier laughed with her too. He had now understood why Rafe would love to stay in the Office lobby. ----------------- Tabby