Page 76 of Big Bad Wolf

“Lena—”

“No. Just stop. You can play whatever kinky games you want to play with your boyfriend but leave me out of it. Don’t try to pretend my health is some kind of supernatural power. That’s not how things work, Ruby.” She gathered the ends of her robe in her hands like the train of a ball gown. “The doctors will figure it out. I’m sure of it. End of discussion.” She turned and stormed from the room.

“Lena, wait!” Ruby shouted after her. “It’s not a game! You can’t keep pretending this is going to just go away!” Ruby’s words were met with the sound of Lena’s door slamming overhead and then nothing but echoing silence.

Chapter Thirty-One

Rafe found himself nursing a cup of bad coffee at Gert’s diner after he dropped Ruby off at the bar. They’d driven the whole way in silence like he really was nothing more than her Uber driver.

He was an asshole.

But Callie was hanging out with Lena tonight, and Rafe didn’t want to be far from either Bellerose sister if they needed him. So, he was stuck sitting here in this sticky vinyl booth, replaying their fight over and over again.

Was it even a fight?

The more he thought about it, it was just him pushing Ruby away again. He didn’t even know why he was doing it anymore.

He just knew he wasn’t good enough for her. Not by a long shot.

“Hey, big guy,” Dolores said, sliding in across from him.

“Hey, Dolores,” he sighed, looking up as his only friend in town joined him. “Laundry done early tonight?”

“Waiting on the dryer, but I saw you through the window and you looked like you could use some company.”

Christ, he must look pitiful if Dolores abandoned her unmentionables for him.

“Thanks.”

Gert came to fill Dolores’s mug.

“How’s Lena?” she asked as she poured, directing her question to Rafe. He’d been avoiding Gert since she caught him at Ruby’s house and nearly glared him to death. He didn’t get the impression that Gert liked him all that much.

“Lena’s fine,” he grumbled. “Why do you ask?”

“I heard she… I heard something odd happened at the bar the other night.”

So, people had noticed. Of course they had. One minute Lena was talking and eating, and the next she was slumped over in the booth. As much as Rafe had tried to shield her from prying eyes, there wasn’t much that got past people in this town.

“Something odd?” Dolores perked up. “You didn’t tell me about something odd, Rafe,” she scolded, like he should have kept her up to date on all things odd, strange, or noteworthy in his life. If that were the case, he’d have a lot to report.

“She’s fine,” he insisted.

“That family’s always been … special,” Gert went on, hand on her hip, apparently not worried about serving any of the other tables. Rafe looked around. Only two other tables had customers. One was filled with a group of teenagers too young to hang out at the bar, and the other was a couple clearly from out of town, dressed head to toe in brand new hiking gear.

“Millie used to say the strangest things, but I’ll tell you what, she was right about ninety nine percent of the time.”

Dolores nodded. “Oh yes, I remember that. She knew when Mabel was going to give birth. Three weeks early, no less.”

“And predicted that storm up the coast. No one saw that coming.”

Maybe if Rafe hadn’t witnessed Lena’s episode firsthand, he could brush off these stories as coincidences, as simply paying attention and noticing things about the world that everyone else was moving too fast to notice. But if her aunt could predict the future, then what the hell was Lena predicting?

“She told me once that her grandson was mayor of some little town south of here. Harbor something or other,” Dolores said, sipping her coffee. “Says he saved the town with some of his predictions.”

“Might be true.” Gert said.

“She knew when those girls were coming to her,” Dolores said, her voice a whisper now like it was all too strange and sad to say out loud. “She sensed something terrible was about to happen.”