Betraying Innocence (22 page)

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—”

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.

He’d known
he had new neighbors. He’d seen the lights going on and off inside. But it had been well past midnight and he’d known the fence would get fixed soon, taking away his secret love shack. He’d never been inside, but the girls liked the whole gazing at the stars naked thing. Tina had been no exception. He’d hoped to get one last use of the broken barrier before it was mended. How was he supposed to know he’d get caught by a pint-sized beauty with full, kissable lips and a body made for wet dreams?

His eyes opened and he stared down the deserted street.
He exhaled.

As trouble went, Ana was the worst and she had no idea, which was somehow both endearing and frustrating.
How was she able to set such a huge claim on him when he’d done everything in his power to push her away? Was that the problem? Maybe he was trying too hard. But what was he supposed to do? He couldn’t let her see what a failure he was. He couldn’t let her into his life, not with Dan an ever persistent shadow. He had enough people depending on him to keep them safe. He couldn’t bring more into the mess.

He swiped a hand back through his hair. The strands tumbled back over his eyes and made him snort a chuckle as Ana’s remark about getting a haircut prickled at the back of his mind.
He did need a haircut.

He glanced at his watch.
First class wouldn’t end for another hour. He readjusted his seat, put the car into drive and maneuvered his way into town.

It was lunch by
the time he returned to school. The crisp breeze ruffled through the short crop of freshly shorn locks. He’d let Maggie, the stylist, pick the style and she’d buzzed it short around the back, but left it longer and spiky on top. It was a style he hadn’t considered in the past, but the girls at the salon had sworn it suited his face, and from the slack-jawed expression on the girls he passed on his way to the cafeteria, they agreed.

Concealing his smirk, he mar
ched through the double doors into the cacophony of midday chatter. Most of the tables were crowded, but there was only one face he was interested in finding. He wanted to see her when she spotted his new look, not that it should matter. He hadn’t done it for her, not really. Maybe a little.

She wasn’t there. He wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or relieved.
Disappointed, he decided, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets.