Betraying Innocence

by Phoenix, Airicka

  He continued to hesitate, but with a reluctant nod, let his arms fall away.

  Ana gave him a final grin before turning to the back door and slipping inside.

  The moment she closed the door behind her, between her and Rafe, she instantly wished she’d let him come in with her. The early pre-dawn hadn’t reached the silence of her house and dark shadows pooled in every corner, sinister shapes waiting to pounce. She felt her stomach roil and her palms grow damp. Every nerve in her body ached with the urge to yank the door open once more and beg him not to leave her alone.

  Instead, she found herself moving through the kitchen towards the hallway. Her gaze went to the basement door and her insides coiled with icy dread. Her teeth chattered. She cut half-moon grooves into the heel of her hands as she balled them at her sides. The heavy silence amplified the hard crack of her heart as she braced her spine and closed the distance at a sprint. She made it all the way up to her room before expelling the breath wedged in her lungs. She trembled so hard, her bones rattled.

  Queasy and unsteady, she went to the closet and quickly prepared for school.

  Both her parents were in the kitchen, murmuring over steaming mugs of coffee and buttered slices of toast when Ana returned downstairs, fully dressed. She dumped her bag next to the door before venturing the rest of the way inside.

  “Morning,” she said, moving to the fridge.

  “Morning,” her mother said, nipping into a piece of toast.

  “How’d you sleep?” her father asked, straightening away from the counter.

  Tactfully avoiding their gazes, Ana shrugged. “Fine.” Still not meeting their eyes, she snatched a yogurt cup and retreated to the sink.

  “Are you sure you’re well enough to go in today?” her mother asked. “I know the school won’t mind if you stayed home.”

  Back turned on them, Ana rolled her eyes. She snatched a spoon from the cutlery drawer and fisted her hand around the handle tight.

  “I’m fine,” she said. And of course the school would be okay with her staying home, she thought bitterly. Why would they want a crazy person attending? It was a wonder they hadn’t found a reason to expel her altogether.

  “But if you aren’t—”

  “But I am!” Ana pivoted on her heels and rounded on her parents. “I’m fine. I don’t even have a headache.” Which was true. That night had been the first time since the move that she’d actually slept. She felt refreshed and alert.

  “We only want you to be all right,” her mother said. “You can’t be angry with us for that, Ana.”

  With an agitated sigh, Ana closed her eyes. “I know. I’m sorry, but I really am fine.”

  Mom raised both hands in surrender and let the matter drop.

  Dad sipped his coffee, glanced at his watch and cursed. “I’m going to be late.” He grabbed his keys and wallet off the counter and hastily stuffed them into his pockets. “Do you need a ride?” he asked Ana.

  Ana shook her head. “I’m good. Thanks.”

  Hurriedly, he pressed a kiss to his wife’s cheek, waved at Ana and jogged from the kitchen. A moment later, the front door opened then closed shut.

  Ana tore the cover off her yogurt and dunked her spoon into the bananas and strawberries. She kept one eye on the clock while she ate, counting down the minutes until Rafe picked her up.

  She’d just finished licking her spoon clean when there was a soft knock at the front door.

  Her mother straightened and twisted around in her seat. “Who could that be?”

  Ana’s heart jumped a second before she pushed away from the counter, hurried down the hall and shouted, “I’ll get it!”

  Without missing a beat, she grabbed the knob, twisted and wrenched the door open. Her smile died on her face. Her eyebrows creased in confusion.

  “Vinny?”

  Vinny Andrews stood on the threshold. He looked as neatly groomed and polished as ever in his creaseless jeans and blue sweater. His sandy brown hair was combed to the side, away from the green of his eyes and he was smiling charmingly.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  Giving her head a shake, Ana caught herself. “I’m sorry. Good morning.” She hesitated a split second before adding, “What are you doing here?”

  His smile became uncertain. His mouth opened, but whatever he was about to say was interrupted by the loud crack of her mother’s heels as she joined Ana at the door.

  “Yes?” Mom said, looking Vinny over.

  Vinny instantly straightened. “Hello, Mrs. French. I’m Vincent Andrews. You met my father yesterday at—”

  “Yes!” her mother said, realization dawning. “It’s nice to meet you, Vincent. What brings you all the way out here this early in the morning?”

  Vinny beamed at her. “Dad suggested I swing by on my way and pick Ana up for school.”

  Inwardly, Ana cursed. Her gaze darted past Vinny to the driveway, relieved to find that Rafe hadn’t arrived yet.

  “That’s so kind of you,” her mother was saying when Ana returned to the conversation. “Especially since it’s completely out of your way.”

  Vinny shrugged. “We’re a close town. We like helping each other out.”

  “Aw, that is so sweet!”

  For someone who claimed small towns creeped her out, her mother looked positively infatuated by the whole show of neighborly support. Ana would have rolled her eyes if she could without getting caught.

  “Ana, isn’t that sweet?” Her mother’s elbow gouged into her side, bringing Ana back to the present.

  “Very,” she replied, giving him the best smile she could muster. “Unfortunately, I already have someone picking me up.”

  Her mother blinked. “Who?”

  Smile held tightly in place by force, Ana replied, “A friend.”

  “What friend?”

  She did roll her eyes this time. “I do have friends, Mom.”

  Vinny broke in before Mom could respond. “Oh, that’s fine then. I’ll see you at school.”

  With a polite inclination of his head, he turned on his heels and skipped down the steps. Ana and her mom watched as he sprinted to the shiny gray BMW parked behind her mother’s Mercedes. He threw open the driver’s door, paused to give her a wave and climbed in. A moment later, he was backing out of the driveway.

  “That was horribly rude,” her mother said once he was out of sight.

  Ana squinted. “How?”

  Her mom closed the door and turned to her. “He came all the way down here to do a nice thing for you—”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t ask him to.” Ana turned back towards the kitchen. “Plus, it would have been ruder if I just stood up my friend.”

  Her mother followed as Ana went to retrieve her backpack. Her wary gaze burned holes into Ana’s spine.

  “What friend?” her mother pressed.

  Ana hoisted her bag up off the floor and swung it on. She delayed answering by adjusting the straps and tugging her hair free. But it became apparent her mother wasn’t about to let up on the question.

  “Rafe,” she said.

  Her mother folded her arms. “Why didn’t you just say that?”

  Ana shrugged, throwing her arms open wide. “Maybe because I don’t know. That’s why.”

  Mom’s brows furrowed into a knot of impatience. “What—”

  A quiet knock echoed through the house. Ana’s heart jumped and her stomach muscles tightened. She knew beyond a reasonable doubt that this time, it would most definitely be Rafe.

  Sure enough, when her mother beat her to the door and threw it open, it was Rafe standing on the porch, fully clad in torn jeans, a rumpled AC/DC t-shirt and a battered jacket in soft, black leather. He looked nothing like Vinny. He was so utterly the opposite of Vinny that it was shocking. He was also the ideal image of that one guy every parent in the world warned their daughters against, rugged and dangerous. He was gorgeous.

  Eyes the color of warm honey went straight for Ana. They swept down over her onc
e before settling on her face. There was relief on his.

  “Hey.” he said to her before he turned his attention to her mother, who stood with a disapproving scowl turning down the corners of her mouth. “Good morning, Mrs. French.”

  If his polite greeting was supposed to appease her mother, it failed miserably. Her eyes narrowed further until she glowered at him through thin strips.

  “Good morning Rafe,” she said, not unkindly. “You look well today.”

  “I had a fantastic sleep.” Face completely blank, he turned to Ana. “Ready?”

  “Yeah.” Ana said, inching her way over the threshold to join him. “I’ll see you after school. Love you.”

  Her mother waved. “Drive safe. Go straight to school please. No parking!”

  Horrified, Ana turned on her heels and hurried Rafe along down the steps towards the black Firebird. He reached it first and yanked open her door. She slipped inside and waited for him to join her in the driver’s side before exhaling.

  “I’m so sorry about that,” she said as her house shrink in the rearview mirror.

  Rafe shrugged. “No big deal. It’s a big change from how I’m usually treated.”

  That knowledge only made her feel even worse.

  “That’s not fair,” she said. “You don’t deserve to be treated—”

  Rafe grimaced, wrinkling his nose. “I do, actually.” He spared her a quick sidelong glance. “I’m not a very good person.”

  She didn’t know how to argue that. It was true that he wasn’t very nice, but not a good person? She didn’t wholly believe that. Yes he was rude and a jerk, but she’d seen he could be thoughtful and kind when he wanted to be. The previous night was a testament to that.

  “I don’t think you’re a bad person,” she said at last. “I think you try to be, although I’m not sure why.”

  Rafe said nothing for a moment as they drove with sickening speed towards town. Ana wondered if he only knew how to drive one speed … blood-chillingly fast. But it didn’t paralyze her as it normally would have. She wondered if she ought to be scared that she wasn’t scared.

  “It’s just easier,” he said with a tightness to his words that had her glancing at him. “People expect it of me.”

  His jaw was coiled tight, the muscle there a small knot of tension. His eyes were a little too focused on the road and there was a firm pinch to his lips. Ana had to repress the urge to reach out and lightly place her hand over the one he had balled on his thigh.

  “Why?” she asked instead.

  He turned his head away. “We should talk about what we’re going to do,” he said. “It’s not that I mind you staying at my place, but I did another search this morning after I dropped you off,” he went on, facing forward once more.

  Ana straightened. “Did you find anything?”

  He snorted. “Nothing any cheesy horror movie couldn’t have told us. There’s clearly something in your house and I think that’s where we need to start.”

  Agreeing, she nodded. “Okay, How?”

  He spared her a quick sidelong glance. “What are you doing after school?”

  They made plans to meet by the back doors after school. Ana didn’t know what his plans were, but she was willing to try anything if it meant getting some of her normal life back.

  “Why are you stopping?” she asked when he pulled alongside the curb nearly a block from the school.

  Rafe looked down at his lap when he spoke, “You made it pretty clear the last time I drove you that you didn’t want to be seen with me.”

  Ana’s jaw dropped. “That isn’t what I said.”

  His head turned a fraction of an inch in her direction. Dark strands shadowed his eyes, but she could feel the heat of them washing over her.

  “No, but you worry about what people will say,” he said. “And being seen with me will not help with that. If anything, people will only say more.”

  Guilt wormed its way up the back of her throat, thick and slimy with self-loathing. She looked down at the hands she’d bunched between her thighs and furrowed her brows.

  “It had nothing to do with you,” she mumbled. She closed her eyes and shook her head rapidly. “I mean, it did, but not just you. It was my second day and already I was getting tired of people staring and pointing at me like I was some lab experiment. My hair was too weird, my clothes were too weird and apparently I was some cracked out celebrity on the run…” She rubbed a vicious hand over her face. “Being seen with you was just one more thing they thought was totally weird about me. But now I’m just that spazzy, mental case who sees demons and throws up on teachers, so being seen with you is hardly my biggest focus.”

  He was staring at her when she dared to glance up, his eyebrows were twisted into a look of barely suppressed amusement as he nibbled on his bottom lip.

  “What?” she demanded, feeling her own lips twitch. “I’m serious. Compared to me, you’re like the freaking poster boy for normal. If anything maybe you shouldn’t be seen with me.”

  He leaned forward, folding his arms over the back of the steering wheel. “You’re right. My reputation can’t take that kind of blow.” He turned his head and grinned at her.

  “So we’re good?”

  He rested his chin on the wheel and stared across the street at a stretch of field. “I guess it’s lucky for both of us that I don’t give a shit.” His face sobered. “But you should.”

  Ana frowned. “Why do I have to give a shit?”

  He laughed, sitting back. “Because one of us needs to and I’m the one whose…”

  “What?” she prompted when he faltered.

  He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. You should just go.”

  “Oh well, when you explain it like that, yeah maybe we shouldn’t be friends.”

  He continued to study the tears in his jeans, his face shadowed by his hair. His laugh was short. “Being your friend isn’t what keeps me up at night, Rosa. What I want from you goes way beyond just simple friendship.”

  “Like what?” She wasn’t sure he heard her. The question had come out so quietly, barely a movement of her lips.

  Too distracted by the tremor in the hand he’d balled on his thigh, she never saw him move until he had her pinned to her seat. How he had gotten his belt off without her hearing it, was the last thought to pass through her surprised mind before she forgot everything but the hungry crash of his mouth over hers. His long fingers wove through her hair to cup the base of her skull, restraining her from pulling away, not that she had the brain cells to do any such thing.

  He tasted like toothpaste, chocolate and strawberry jam. He smelled like leather, spices and sin, and he felt like heaven. Ana moaned a split second before she could stop herself. Her mouth opened to the greedy demand of his. The fingers in her hair tightened, sending the most delicious ripples down her spine. She shivered. Fingers she had no recollection of lifting curled into the fabric of his shirt and she pressed herself closer to him, or as close as the console would allow.

  He broke away first. His eyes were chips of black fire snapping down at her from a face tight with a desire that left her feeling hot and achy in places that made her blush.

  “Rafe?” she whispered, finding her voice at last.

  “I shouldn’t have done that,” he murmured, mouth still hovering inches over hers.

  “No,” she said back. “You shouldn’t have.” She moistened her lips, tasting him there and liking it. “Why did you?”

  He peered anxiously into her eyes, seemingly searching for something. “Because I felt like I would die if I didn’t.” His face contorted into one of desperation. “Say something.”

  “Like what?”

  “Anything!”

  She swallowed hard. “I won’t be your new plaything.”

  He jerked back as though she’d struck him. “What?”

  Relieved for the space, Ana gulped a greedy breath that wasn’t drenched in his scent. “What you said at the hospital—”

&
nbsp; He swore, slamming the heel of his hand into the wheel. The horn blared, making Ana jump. He cursed again, shoving his fingers back through his hair. He turned away from her.

  “You’re going to be late for class,” he muttered, staring bitterly out his window.

  “Rafe—”

  “Go.”

  Not knowing what else to say, Ana threw open her door and ducked out. He still had his head turned away from her when she slammed the door and started up the block.

  Rafe

  Good job, Ace. Rafe dropped his face into his hands and pressed the heel of his hands into his eyelids. But it didn’t work. No amount of pressure erased the image of Ana’s face, of her flushed cheeks and moist lips parted. All he managed to do was send little sparkles popping across his vision that gave him a headache.

  He dropped his hands and squinted up at the heavily clouded heavens. There was a strong possibility of rain with an even stronger chance of thunder. The air crackled with the raw energy before a storm. His gaze flicked down to the corner and the building hidden from view behind a high wall of well-manicured brush.

  He hadn’t seen if Ana made it to school, but she must have. She was probably already in class, hunched over her open binder as the teacher droned on about … whatever. He should be inside as well, sitting in English Lit, listening to Ms. Wrought tell them the symmetries between To Kill A Mockingbird and the modern era. Rafe had nothing against the book, or reading, or even Ms. Wrought for that matter. He just wasn’t ready for another day of everyone looking at him as though he were a failure. He got enough of that at home from Dan and he wasn’t about to go driving around and risk the chance of someone seeing him and reporting it to Finnegan. The slick bastard had had it out for Rafe since the sixth grade when Rafe had been caught admiring Carlie Hancock’s new training bra behind the bleachers. There hadn’t been much filling the flimsy scrap of fabric, but she’d been so excited to show him, hiking up her top and shoving her chest towards him. He’d gotten better at not getting caught since, except recently.

  Ana, clad in a fuzzy robe and sneakers, threatening to have him shot for being in her yard flashed through his mind. A grin turned up his lips. She’d looked … delicious, standing there, green eyes bright against her pink cheeks.