Out of Nowhere (Middle of Somewhere #2)

by Roan Parrish

Call me Rafe. Only my mother calls me Rafael.”

Now that I wasn’t going to be married with a baby to take care of, the problem that was me returned with a vengeance.

“BMW. Established 1916. Produced aircraft engines but forced to stop based on the terms of the Treaty of Versailles prohibiting the manufacture and stockpile of arms or armored vehicles.

“Yo, Ricky Recordo right here! She’s got a straight-up photographic memory,” Mikal says, stepping closer to me and winking.

It’s the other phrase that gets me, though. Make a life. It’s the first indication I’ve gotten of what Rafe wants. What he hopes for. How he thinks things work—like a life is something you can create rather than something that’s dumped on you.

“Thank you,” he murmurs. And it doesn’t really sound stupid at all.

“I wish I was dead,” I whisper, too soft for anyone to hear, and Rafe’s hands on me falter.