Page 84 of The Devil’s Feather

Rafael risked a glance over his shoulder. “Elaine, go.”

Fuckass Stache reached for his sleeve. Rafael whipped an uppercut into the man’s jaw so fast I barely saw his fist move. It lifted the guy clean off his feet. His buddies shouted and rushed forward, catching Stache’s unconscious body before he hit the floor.

Holy fuck, Rafael wasn’t joking about his startle reflex. My heart skittered in my ribcage.

“I’m calling the cops!” the heavier man bellowed.

Rafael’s voice dropped into a chilling growl, and he rolled his shoulders significantly. “Get the fuck off my property or the cops will have to vacuum you out of the carpet.”

They looked at each other, looked at the enraged giant, and wisely dragged their sleepy-timed friend out the door. Rafael stomped after them and locked it as soon as they were through, flipping the sign to ‘Closed’. He leaned against the window, breath fogging the glass as he glared through it. His thumbnail dug into the spaces between his opposite thumbs and forefingers.

A soft voice peeped a question in Arabic from the kitchen. Zainab.

Rafael released a grinding sigh, forcing his shoulders to relax. He replied in kind, and she emerged. Hasan, the owner and manager, followed her, nervously plucking at his thick grey mustache.

Amazing the difference styling made with facial hair. Hasan had a kind, approachable face versus Mr. Cop Cosplay, who’d instantly put me on guard. God, I hoped that wasn’t an actual cop Rafael had just cold-cocked.

Hasan asked a question in Turkish. Rafael straightened, answering. Now that my ear was accustomed, I was embarrassed at ever having confused the two languages.

“Guys, I’m sorry for being an ignorant monolingual, but will someone please tell me what’s happening?” I hugged my arms, anxiety gluing my feet to the floor.

Zainab turned fearful dark eyes to me. “These men showed up asking weird questions about Mr. Nazim and making me uncomfortable.”

“Those ratfucks stink of that tech jackass from the other day.” Rafael sneered at the door.

“Language!” the barista admonished him.

“Zainab, not today.” He gave her a flat glare, and she shrank. To me, he said, “I have not forgotten our discussion, but they were hassling her when I got here.”

I raised my palms. “Oh, no, that guy deserved to get his ass knocked out for trying to grab you. Who were they?”

“Hired muscle meant to intimidate me.” Breathing deeply, Rafael laid a hand on the counter.

He argued with Hasan in Turkish. The owner tossed his hands up. I heard a few Allah Allahs from Hasan—the Turkic equivalent of a frustrated, “oh god.”

Zainab pressed her lips together and sidled over to me. “They are arguing about closing the café for the day. Mr. Nazim is for. Hasan Amca is against, naturally.”

“I thought you didn’t speak Turkish.”

“I have been studying.” She looked Rafael over, deflating a bit. “Everyone talks about his temper, but I have never seen him get so angry.”

I have. “Are you ok? Those guys didn’t hurt you, did they?”

Zainab drew in on herself. “I’m ok. One of them tried to grab my scarf, but Mr. Nazim showed up just in time.”

“Oh Jesus, now I’m extra glad Rafael knocked that asshole out.” I winced at her disapproving brow pinch. “Sorry, I have a potty mouth too.” Would Rafael have reacted so severely if he hadn’t already been upset last night? “He’s very protective.”

Her smile was brittle under the distress brewing in her eyes. “We’re lucky to have him. But don’t tell him I said that. He will never let it go.”

Rafael won the argument for closing the café and walked Zainab and Hasan to their cars.

He was quiet during the elevator ride back to our apartment. I kept my mouth shut, waiting for him to break the silence first. The scowl on his face hadn’t relaxed by the time we walked inside the apartment. He made me a cappuccino and pulled a shot for himself.

Downing the espresso, Rafael finally looked at me. “Shitty start to the morning. Especially after last night.”

“I’m not sure those guys would have left any other way without calling the cops. They’ll sure as hell think twice about confronting you again, though.” I added a raw sugar cube to my cappuccino, trying to stir it in without disrupting the perfect foam. “You really think that tech bro sent them?”

“Or Molly. Would not be the first time she convinced men to do something stupid for her.” He grimaced. “Fucking cowardly, whoever it was, sending their lackeys to harass the café workers instead of coming for me directly. I am sorry. We just had that big talk about my temper…” He leaned against the island and rubbed his temple.