Raw (Raw Instinct Book 1)

by Lee Quail

“He didn’t come.”

  “What happened?”

  “He’s married.”

  “The bastard!”

  “He sent me apologies a few minutes ago.” Edward’s voice carried the strain of the night. His voice cracked with emotion as if his life had gone up in smoke.

  “Darling, don’t take this too hard.”

  “It’s me, Angie. I’m wired all wrong. People don’t want commitment. When they see my body looking like an art gallery all they want is a fuck. I’m so tired of it all. Searching for Mr. Right. Trying to find someone to share my life with. I’ve had it.”

  “Don’t be silly. Your problem is that you haven’t the faintest idea about choosing the right boys. Right now, there’s someone out there whose destiny it is to be with you. You’ll see, it’s going to happen sooner than you think.”

  “Not the way things are going right now,” Edward hung his head in dismay; he closed his clear, lagoon-blue eyes and wept. Angie listened to the sound his tears made and her heart broke for him.

  “I should pack up and leave all this behind. There’s no sense in having all this with no one to share it,” he said.

  “You mean leave this all behind and go to your place in the Berg?”

  “The people there care. I’ll have my horses and fresh air and peace.”

  “Listen to me, darling. It’s not you or your tattoos. I’m on my way. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  His voice broke again with emotion. “I’d like that.”

  Never again, Edward thought. No more online dates. He’d be better off at Canton’s Cottage, far away from the cold, unrelenting bruise of city life. In his view, online dating, like a beautiful car with a sick engine, had passed its sell-by date.

  ***

  Angie’s pleated, silver-white hair swept off her brow in a long wisp to the side of her temple. Her ankle length, blue sarong, hid the cumbersome bulk of her body. Her green eyes swooped over Edward’s emotional transparency.

  He wore his heart on his sleeve whenever his dates didn’t go according to plan.

  “My, my – you look handsome as always - and this suit is amazing. You didn’t sleep, did you? You wore this for your date last night?” She touched the fabric. He’d chosen an ivory coloured sack suit, made popular in the early 1900s. The plaid jacket, long, plain, and loose, had wide lapels. A silver plated fob watch hung from his trousers’ small pocket.

  She touched his face and gazed deeply into his swollen blue eyes. He resembled a lonely tree getting ready for winter.

  “Don’t let this get to you, Ed. There are plenty of fish in the sea.”

  “Not like Peter. Damn!” He turned and looked away, punching his frustration into the air.

  “Let it out! Let the anger out,” Angie said, rubbing his back.

  “I thought this was going somewhere. Clearly, it wasn’t.”

  “He’s not worth it. Tell you what, let’s hit Starbucks for a cheer-up coffee, darling,” she said.

  “I feel so empty, Angie. Like there’s something wrong with me. I feel bloodless. Ready to explode because something always happens with my dates. Maybe I’m not good-looking enough. And this body of mine looks like a Michelangelo shithouse.”

  “Bullshit,” Angie exclaimed, grabbing his elbow and ushering him to the white, leather couch in the sitting room. “You’re the sexiest man I know. Well, the second sexiest man I know.” She touched his rock hard biceps, and unbuttoned his shirt beneath the loosened tie. “In my younger days, if half the guys I dated had rock hard pecs, and chest hair like this, and half of these beautiful tattoos, I’d die. Every tattoo on your body tells a beautiful story of who you are. That red rose dedicated to you mom on your neck. The cross on your upper arm. The magnified guy on your stomach. This small cross above your thumb. Have you seen your six-pack lately? Look at this face, full of character. Such a beautiful five-day shadow, golden like the sun, and those eyes, like the tide on some exotic blue lagoon.”

  “I’m far from poetic sexy. My legs are too short for my body, my thighs too big. The boxer we visited yesterday. What’s his name? Raw. He’s sexy. I’m not.”

  “Raw is sexy, but he’s so fucked up. Boxing has taken a toll on him. He needs a man in his life otherwise he’s going to go nuts. But we’re not talking about him. I’m here for you. People feel threatened by your beauty, they can’t relate. I thank God I’m your closest friend, and I thank god you’re gay. It all begins with love, darling. Love yourself and the cards will fall right,” she said, buttoning him up again.

  “It’s this place. This city. It’s a selfish, unforgiving city. I’ve had six dates in the last two months and they never call back. It’s like I’m living in a night without a moon.”

  Her cell phone beeped. She apologized and anxiously reached for it as though she’d been expecting the call.

  “It’s Raw.” Her eyes lit up. “How are you feeling, darling?” She placed the call on speakerphone.

  “The team doctor says I can go home. Dad’s here to fetch me but I told him you’re coming.”

  “Great. Be at reception in half hour.”

  “See you then.”

  As she put away her cell phone, she turned to Edward and grinned. “That’s good news. The only problem is I have an appointment in thirty minutes with the Administrator of the Boxing League, Caine Smit, and it’s going to be a long meeting. Fetch him for me?” She pleaded.

  It wouldn’t be the last favour she would ask. She’d asked him several weeks ago to buy her eyeliner at Woolworths. A man, buying eyeliner, late on a Friday afternoon, in one of the busiest malls in Africa? What were the odds he’d buy the wrong product? He need not have worried, the eyeliner turned out perfect with a little help from the counter assistant.

  “You can’t do this to me, Angie.”

  “I just did. He’ll be waiting at the reception in half an hour. Go to it, stud. Charm him off his feet.”

  “I don’t know the guy.”

  “Then let this be the perfect opportunity to get to know him. He’ll play you. He’s a cheeky son of a bitch. He’ll get you all worked up. Don’t lose it! Stay calm. He likes calm in other people because he’s so explosive.”

  “He seemed a little offish with me yesterday.”

  “He’s going through a phase. Besides, he lost the purse. What did you expect, darling? Fetch him and entertain him. Take him for breakfast. He loves breakfast. Starbucks.” She reached the door and suddenly stopped as though she’d forgotten something. “One last thing. I know you’re wealthy and inherited a beautiful property in the Drakensberg, but you can’t keep on escaping. You need to face things here at the rock face. You’ll find what you’re looking for, sooner than you think.”

  He threw a kiss her way and whispered, “Thank you.”

  ***

  Raw promptly waited outside the hospital at the pick-up point keeping an eye out for Angie’s old, red and green Anglia. Probably the only Anglia in Johannesburg. He totally disliked the new shaped cars, all computerized, and expensive. With the Anglia, at least he could see the main components of the engine. She’d asked him to repair the cooling system, replace a sparkplug or the battery on several occasions.

  Much to his surprise, the guy who had visited with her only yesterday, sat behind the steering wheel in a white SUV. Eugene or Edgar, he’d forgotten the man’s name. He casually lifted his bag and strolled towards the car.

  “Where’s Angie?” He asked, reaching for the passenger door handle.

  “She has an appointment and asked me to fetch you.”

  “An appointment? With who?”

  “Don’t know. Didn’t ask.”

  “If I knew, I would’ve gone with my dad.”

  Angie had warned him. Stay calm, she’d said. “Put your bag in the trunk.”

  “It’s okay. I can carry this on my lap. It’s not like I’m in a wheelchair or something. Just concentrate on your driving. I’ll show you the way as we go. And for the record, I like music, less
talking.”

  “Angie said you’d be difficult. So what would you like to do?”

  “Angie doesn’t know when to keep her mouth shut. I’d like to go home. Straight home. I just spent two days in a fucking hospital and all I want is peace and quiet.”

  “I thought we could stop by Starbucks or something. You like coffee, don’t you?”

  “I look like a truck hit me up the asshole and you invite me to Starbucks. Take me home for goodness sake.”

  “I don’t mind what you look like,” Edward said, turning the ignition and pulling away.

  Edward hadn’t driven more than 500 meters when Raw said, “What’s with the clothes? Looks like you’ve stepped out of a black and white movie from the early nineteen hundreds.”

  “I collect vintage men’s fashion. I don’t always dress like this. Didn’t have much time to change.”

  “You have music in this tank?”

  “I don’t think you’ll appreciate my kind of music. Dermot Kennedy. Irish folk singer.”

  “Try me.”

  Edward pushed the CD play button and hit the volume as Power Over Me reverberated through the vehicle.

  “I know this song, right. I hate it. Listen, just pull over. I think I’d like to walk. We’re not too far from my pad. It’s opposite the Hyde Park Mall. I can walk. Need fresh air.”

  Edward swerved the car to the side of the road and came to a screeching halt.

  “Your wish is my command,” he said, looking the other way.

  “Thanks for the ride, Eugene…”

  “Edward. It’s Edward. E…D…W…”

  “For fuck sakes, I know how to spell Edward.”

  Raw grabbed his kit bag and opened the door, walked a few steps, and turned around to see Edward watching him from inside the car. He wished he’d turn the ignition and ride away. Continuing his walk down, he stopped several times to check on Edward. Still there, a few feet away, following him at walking pace.

  The dry winter air cut into his throat and lungs.

  Any man, no matter how fit or strong, and recently released from the hospital with traumatic sports injuries, could never cope with a short walk of a few hundred meters in winter. The antibiotics and trauma had weakened his body. His walking pace slowed and eventually faltered. One foot slipped off the curb and he went down, crashing into the street. He tried to get up but his elbow slipped off the curb. Here, in the street, with oncoming cars and unhelpful pedestrians surrounding him, he experienced complete solitude. His head hurt more than his constitution would allow. The pain burned into his face and neck.

  Edward stopped the car immediately. Leaving the car door open in the middle of the main road, he rushed to Raw’s side.

  Raw didn’t seem to recognize him in his delirious state, tried to push him away.

  “It’s okay, Raw. It’s okay. It’s me. It’s Edward. I’m here. It’s okay.”

  “Edward?” Raw said, confused. “My head hurts so bad. Help me.”

  Edward checked his head for injuries but found nothing. He felt his forehead. The man had a fever. “It’s fine, Raw. I’m going to take you back to the car and then back to the hospital. It’s okay. Everything will be fine.”

  “I don’t want to go back to the hospital. No hospital…”

  Edward lifted him off the paving and carried him through the crowd to his car. He placed him gently on the front passenger seat and returned to the driver’s side. He already had his cell phone out and frantically dialled Angie’s number.

  “Emergency. Long story.”

  “What is it? Is Raw with you?”

  “He’s with me but you had better meet us at my apartment. He’s not doing well. I’ll explain when you get there.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  ***

  By the time Angie arrived at the apartment, Edward had already tucked Raw in. He slept comfortably in the spare bedroom with a view of the lake across the road. Edward had placed a cool, wet cloth over his forehead.

  “What the hell happened?” Angie asked, holding Raw’s hand.

  “He didn’t want to go for breakfast. Didn’t want Starbucks. All he wanted was to get out of the car and walk to his apartment.”

  “And you let him?”

  “I didn’t expect him to pass out. He looked fine to me.”

  “The man is up to his arsehole in antibiotics!”

  “I know, I know. And I’m sorry.”

  “Why on earth didn’t you take him back to the hospital?”

  “He said he didn’t want to go back there.”

  “Not his decision to make. You should have known better, darling.”

  Edward kept quiet. He’d lose this battle if he argued. Yes, he should have done this, yes he should have done that. But he didn’t and he wouldn’t apologize again.

  “I’d better phone his dad. He must be worried sick.” She said, taking out the cell phone from her bag.

  Curisco answered and she explained the situation to him.

  “He’s sleeping right now…at a friend…yes, I’ll make sure he gets to you when he’s awake. Right now, he needs rest.”

  She ended the call and turned to Edward. “The moment he wakes up you’ll have to take him to the gym. His dad is frantic. Do you think you can do this without fucking it up?”

  “I hear you. I’ll take him to the gym.”

  3

  Raw slept through the rest of the day while Edward made him comfortable every now and then. He dabbed Raw’s face with a facecloth lightly and lovingly, as one would a sick child.

  In sleep, Raw’s lean, angular face looked like the face of an angel. His thick lips, shaped like Cupid ’s bow, were slightly open, and his cheeks as smooth as an even road.

  Earlier, Edward had undressed Raw and placed him onto the bed. He couldn’t help notice Raw’s hard, round gluteus muscles. Nonetheless, no matter how appealing Raw’s body seemed, his stranded soul thwarted Edward’s attraction.

  As evening turned into night, Edward poured himself a glass of Southern Comfort, returned to the spare bedroom and pulled up a chair to watch the sunset over the lake.

  The day had been too much of everything.

  First, Peter had destroyed his trust in humanity. Secondly, he hadn’t slept for over 48 hours. Thirdly, Angie had introduced him to a troubled and argumentative person, and given him a mouthful for not following proper procedure. Now, he had Raw in his spare room when the man should have been in the hospital.

  He blamed himself.

  Life had thrown him a curveball. One which he had not expected, all in a matter of a few hours.

  He turned in his chair to check on the sleeping Raw and to his surprise, Raw watched him intently with those wide, brown eyes.

  “You’re awake,” Edward said, moving out of his chair.

  “Is this your place?”

  “You’re in my guest room.”

  “I remember falling but nothing afterwards.”

  “You didn’t want to go back to the hospital, so I brought you here.”

  “Am I supposed to thank you?” Raw flung the sheet off him and exclaimed. “What? You removed my clothes?”

  “I had to get rid of the clothes to slow down your fever.”

  “What else did you do?”

  “Are you for real?” Edward said, left stone cold shocked by the question.

  “I need to get home. Take me home.”

  Edward approached the bed and gently pushed him back onto the pillow. “You are not going anywhere. You’re still weak, buddy. I’ll take you wherever you want to go in the morning, in the meantime, you’re staying put.”

  “Like hell I am.” Raw attempted to get up again but clutched his head and fell back.

  “Jesus Christ! The pain!”

  “You need to calm down, Raw.”

  “In my bag…tablets.”

  “I’ll bring your bag.”

  Edward found the pain tablets and some and some antibiotics. He removed two pain tablets from the silve
r bubble-wrap, and handed it to Raw who threw them into his mouth and swallowed.

  “What are you doing?” Edward exclaimed.

  “Taking tablets.”

  “You’re supposed to take them with water.”

  “Where are the antibiotics?”

  Edward opened the antibiotic box and removed two tablets. He removed the leaflet and skimmed through it. “You take these antibiotics after you’ve eaten, not before. You can’t just take them and think they’ll work.”

  “I never follow the instructions on the box. Never harmed me.”

  “It’s high time you started. No wonder you’re a mess. I’m going to get you something to eat. Don’t you dare move from here.”

  Edward served up a small plate of the food he’d prepared for Peter the night before and warmed it in the microwave. He returned carrying the food and orange juice on a tray and found Raw crumpled in a foetus position on the bed.

  “Sit up, back against the headboard.”

  With an effort, Raw sat up and moaned. Edward placed the tray on his lap and sat down on the edge of the bed.

  “Smells amazing,” Raw said. “You made this now? You’re quick.”

  “It’s a long story. I might tell you one day.”

  “May as well tell me now, I don’t think we’re going to be seeing much of each other. This is good. You eat like this every night then?”

  “I made this last night for a date.”

  “This is really good. With only one exception. I’m not your date.”

  “With an attitude like yours, I wouldn’t dare date you a second time.”

  Raw stopped chewing. “Nothing wrong with my attitude, bro.”

  “You should try listening to yourself. You’re the most negative, self-centred guy I’ve ever met, and I’ve met a few.”

  “You a shrink or something?”

  “Something,” Edward mumbled.

  “I know what your problem is,” Raw said, stuffing a warm potato into his mouth. “You don’t have anyone permanent in your life so you’re always on the defensive.”

  “I don’t think you’re qualified to analyse me when it’s actually you who needs help.”

  “You don’t know me. Remove the knives.”

  “I’m sure you don’t really care. Here, just take these antibiotics with your orange juice.”