Betraying Innocence

by Phoenix, Airicka

  “He’s in there,” she told him, tears suddenly burning her eyes. Her bottom lip trembled.

  “What?” He yanked her away from the open door and thrust her behind him. “Where?”

  She sniffled, wanting so desperately to just bury her face into the planes of his back and cry. “In my room,” she whispered, absolutely certain of this now. “He’s inside my walls.”

  It no longer mattered if he thought her insane. Her problems were so much bigger, so much more frightening. Plus, was she crazy if he’d seen it too? If he’d fought it? Was she still insane?

  Rafe didn’t look disbelieving. He looked horrified and angry. His eyes widened, darting between her and the door. “What was that thing, Ana?”

  “I don’t know!” she cried, no longer able to stop the flood of tears that washed down her face, mixing with the pond water. “I don’t know! I don’t know! I thought I was crazy. I thought … I’m not crazy! You saw him. You saw him, didn’t you? I’m not—”

  She was suddenly in his arms, held so tight it was almost impossible to breathe. But it wasn’t close enough.

  “Shh,” he whispered into her temple. “You’re not crazy. I saw him, too.”

  “I’m so scared…” she croaked into his chest. Her fingers fisted into the wet fabric of his shirt.

  “It’s all right now,” he soothed, stroking her hair. “We’re going to figure this out.”

  Face a mess of tears, pond water and snot, Ana raised her head to peer into his eyes. “How?”

  “First, we’re going to get out of these clothes.”

  Refusing to leave her alone and with her refusing to be left alone with a possibly pissed off ghost hovering around, he led her through the yard into his, all the while wielding the makeshift weapon tightly in his hand. Ana marveled at how much nicer the grass felt on his side of the yard where it was neatly trimmed, compared to the jungle it was on her side.

  They passed the play structure and the scattered toys to the back porch. Rafe placed a finger over his lip for silence as he eased the sliding door open just wide enough for them to slip through.

  “I don’t know about this!” she hissed just low enough for him to hear.

  “Shh!” Was his only response.

  They crept through the silent and shadow infested house. Ana realized that, although their houses looked similar from the outside, inside they were worlds apart, from the very little she could make out. The back door didn’t lead into the kitchen like hers did, but into the living room, which was spacious and joined with the dining room and kitchen. There was a short hallway, then stairs, which they took to the second floor. Ana gripped Rafe’s hand tighter, hoping, praying no one heard them.

  At the top, Rafe showed her down another hall to the room at the very end. Inside, he closed the door and trapped them in the darkness.

  “Wait there!” he told her from somewhere on her right. Ana didn’t move. She heard him scuffle around. Something crunched, then clattered like dishes. Something else cracked beneath his feet, sounding like a CD case. There were more grunts and things getting trampled, broken and scattered, and Ana wondered if she wanted the lights on. Then, after what felt like several very long minutes, a light flared to life across the room from a lamp perched on what could have possibly been a nightstand. Ana winced at the sudden blinding explosion, and blinked until all the little spots vanished from across her vision.

  The place was a chaotic mess. Clothes, books, CDs, movies and piles of dishes cluttered every square inch of the room. Posters of bands, movies and just odd sayings hung haphazardly on the walls, some were even upside down like he’d done them with his eyes closed. There were six rows of shelves against one wall, holding numerous tattered novels. Somewhere under all the mess, she could just make out a bed, a dresser, a nightstand and maybe a desk, but it was hard to tell.

  “Sorry,” he murmured sheepishly, wading back over to her. “I don’t usually have company up here.”

  His confession both confused and relieved her. It meant he hadn’t brought any girls up there, but then again, if he had, she was probably still up there somewhere, buried beneath all the junk.

  “It’s fine,” she said, forcing the words out through her chattering teeth. The knuckles on her hands were snowy caps as she struggled to keep her wet shirt modestly pulled as low as it would go down her legs.

  “Uh…” He raked a hand through his hair, turning first left, then right as if not sure which direction he was going. But quickly, he caught himself and hurried to the dresser across the room. He bunched up and tossed aside the towel hanging there before yanking open the top drawer, then the one underneath it. He turned with two black bundles in hand. “I, uh, don’t have female … underthings, but…” He glanced up, and froze, his eyebrows shot up his brow and his eyes widening. Slowly, they roamed over her, taking in everything from her bare feet to the ends of her dripping hair. They swept over her face, and then swooped down again, hovering lower and lower beneath her neck for longer periods of time.

  Ana felt herself flush beneath his scalding scrutiny. A warm current rushed up her body in all the places his dark gaze touched. She shivered. “Rafe?”

  As if coming out of a daze, Rafe shook his head, blinked and quickly looked away. He seemed to hesitate for a full heartbeat, before clearing his throat and saying, “Here.” He crossed the space separating them, eyes firmly locked on his feet. “I’ll … you can use my bathroom … take a shower or whatever.”

  Take a shower? In his bathroom? Her insides summersaulted in excitement and terror. Suddenly facing the ghost seemed like a small risk compared to being naked where he was normally naked.

  Ana gulped, mind a white-hot mess of images, all consisting of Rafe’s golden flesh glistening with the water pouring over him, down him, tracing the curves of his muscles, the long ridges of his limbs, his hair swept back from his tilted face as white foam glided down … down…

  “Ana?”

  Ana startled. Her cheeks darkened as if really caught peeking on him in the shower. The back of her ankle caught something hidden under a mound of clothes and she hit the door with her shoulder. Pain exploded down her arm. She opened her mouth to hiss, only to have him suddenly there, hand over her mouth, his other hand pressing a finger to his own lips. His eyes were wide, staring down at her, but not really seeing her. Down the hall, they heard a door squeal open. Rafe’s fingers tightened over her face, bruising. The pupils of his eyes shrunk to pinpricks. His face turned a sick green.

  She didn’t have to ask why.

  Two seconds later the door rattled as if beaten with an iron mallet. Pressed against the cold surface, Ana felt every violent vibration straight into her bones. Molded into her, Rafe tapped his finger to his mouth, warning her urgently to keep quiet.

  “Keep it down, you little prick!” a male voice roared. “Some of us actually sleep!”

  His dad? She wondered, searching his face.

  The person on the other side of the door spewed a few more colorful curse words and said some things that made Ana want to go out there and slap him in the mouth, then stormed away, the floorboards trembling with every stomp of his feet.

  Rafe’s hold on her face didn’t loosen until they heard the door slam. His hand fell away, as did his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

  Ana rubbed her sore jaw. “Was that your dad?”

  He stepped away from her. “That was Dan.”

  She didn’t know who Dan was, but she didn’t like him. She didn’t like the sound of his voice or the way it seemed to fill Rafe with terror. She didn’t like the way he caused anger and embarrassment to darken Rafe’s face.

  “You called me Ana,” she said softly, hoping to erase the hunch in his shoulders.

  Rafe’s head came up. She gave him a small, teasing smile. He blinked, his eyes wide with surprise and confusion, then, very slowly, his lips bowed to match hers.

  “I’m still very partial to Rosa.” He bent at the waist and snatched up the clothes he’d dro
pped. “Come on.”

  As quietly as they’d come in, Rafe led her out of his bedroom and into the room across the hall. He closed them into the bathroom.

  “I’ll get you a towel,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “Take a shower. Leave the water running when you’re done.”

  Too cold, too clammy, too wet to argue, Ana nodded. He took a last look at her before slipping out and closing the door quietly behind him. Ana wasted no time turning the water as high on hot as she could stand. She shredded her clothes off and hurriedly stepped into the rising steam. A choked gasp escaped her as the pulsing jet struck her goose flesh infested skin.

  Rafe

  She was already in the shower when Rafe cracked the door open a slit and forced the towel through. He dropped it on the counter and nearly crushed his wrist closing the door quickly, before he could give in to the little voice begging him to steal just one little peek. He hurried back to his room and closed the door, putting two barriers between him and the temptation calling him. This was so not the night for that. They had bigger problems to deal with.

  With the face of the ghost imprinted into the back of his mind, he waded through the mess to his desk, shoved the articles of clothes, books and dishes off and booted up his laptop. While it started, he hurried around his room, scooping up bundles off the ground and tossing them into the closet. He kicked several things under his bed and quickly righted his bed. It wasn’t a vast improvement, but it looked less hostile with at least a small portion of the floor showing. It certainly didn’t feel as if the room was going to swallow them up alive.

  He was at the computer, doing a search for ghosts and possessions when Ana crept into the room, looking impossibly inviting. Her hair fell in wet tendrils down her back and over the shoulders of his black t-shirt. The shirt itself was long and baggy, looking like a garbage bag on a doll. It hung down to her knees, which were covered — mercifully — by his black sweats, which she had rolled around the ankles to keep from tripping. She stood nibbling on her bottom lip, staring down at the bundle in her arms. Rafe had to restrain himself from shoving her back against the door and ravaging that mouth for her.

  She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “Bathroom’s free.”

  The chair beneath him creaked as he rose. He told himself he was only going to pass her, walk out and use the bathroom. He told himself this over and over, until he reached her and she peeked up at him through long, thick lashes dampened and spiky around mossy green eyes. He stopped before he could control the movement of his feet. He found himself leaning towards her, his senses clouded by the musky scent coming off her. A deep, appreciative growl slipped his throat.

  “Rafe?” Her small, breathy voice had the beast inside stirring, raised its head in ravenous hunger.

  He shuddered. His fingers trembled as they looped a coil of her hair. He shifted closer, dusting the curve of her warm cheek with the end of his nose. He felt rather than heard her sharp intake of air.

  He smirked. “Addictive.”

  “What is?”

  He put a sliver of space between them, just enough to peer into her wide, darkened eyes. “The smell of me on your skin.” He gave her hair a gentle tug. “I could get used to it.”

  With a sly wink, he left her in his room and hurried to take a shower, trying the whole time not to imagine her in there only moments before.

  She was sitting in his computer chair when he returned, rubbing a towel over his hair. She sat hunched, nose nearly touching the screen as she read some article. The pen in her right hand moved quickly across a scrap of paper, a sure sign she was taking notes. She turned in her seat when he walked in and softly closed the door behind him.

  “I don’t know what to look for,” she said. “I keep coming up with possession and hauntings, but I don’t…” She scooped a shaky hand back through her damp tresses.

  Tossing his towel into the corner, Rafe crossed to her. He rested one hand on the back of her chair and the other on the desk as he leaned in to see the twisted loops of scarlet marring the pages on the screen.

  It was some website on possession and how to do your own exorcism, with real videos. Rafe frowned as he drew away.

  “I don’t think what we need will be on the World Wide Web,” he said, deftly reaching over and closing all the windows she’d opened. “We need to go to the source. But in the meantime.” He turned to her, took her hand and guided her from the chair. “You need rest. You look exhausted.”

  “I am exhausted,” she said. “But I need to know what’s going on.”

  He gave her fingers a light squeeze as he tugged her to the bed. “And we’ll find out, but first things first.” He straightened his jumbled sheets. “Get in.”

  Luminous green eyes met his. “I can’t stay here.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

  “I don’t know.” She pressed the heel of her free hand into her temple. “I’m too tired to think.”

  “Well, until you figure it out…”

  She looked at him. “Where will you sleep?”

  Rafe grinned. “You mean you won’t share the bed with me?”

  Patches of pink replaced her ashen complexion. She dropped her gaze. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  With a snort, he nudged her down onto the mattress. “That’s all right. I’m used to girls not being able to keep their hands off me.”

  He laughed when she rolled her eyes. Neither said anything as she curled onto her side. He pulled the sheets up and tucked them tightly around her.

  “Sleep,” he murmured. “I’ll be here when you wake up. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Apprehension glinted in her eyes. “Promise?”

  He brushed back a curl off her cheek. “I promise.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Ana

  Ana woke to the soft caress of warm fingers lightly grazing the length of her nose, smoothing across her brow, down her cheek and over her lips. Her lashes fluttered once before flickering open.

  Leaning up on his elbow, Rafe offered her a lopsided grin when her sleep-crusted gaze locked on him. He lay on a crudely made bed on the ground and looked thoroughly tussled and bedraggled with his hair in disarray around his beautiful face.

  “Hey,” he murmured, his voice heart-trippingly husky.

  Ana flushed. “Hi.”

  He let his fingers wander down to her chin. “It’s morning.”

  She pushed upright on the mattress. Warm, golden light spilled across the foot of the bed from the slight break in the curtains. Ana blinked. “I slept the whole night,” she murmured, awed.

  “Like a rock,” he said. “How do you feel?”

  A smile broke out across her face as her attention swung back to him. “I feel amazing. I feel … awake!”

  Rafe grinned as he tossed back the blanket and leapt agilely to his feet. Ana was only partially relieved to see he wore black sweats slung low on his tapered hips. His chest and the wide set of his shoulders were bare to the early morning glow. He raised his long arms, reached for the ceiling, making every muscle along his torso coil like springs. Something popped and he gave an appreciative grunt as taut muscles slackened. He dropped his arms and sighed.

  “Good! You…” He turned to her and his words trailed off when their eyes met. His became dark and smoky.

  Ana moistened her lips. “Thank you for letting me stay here and for what you did last night. I’m not sure I—”

  He extended a hand to her. Ana nervously bit her lip before accepting and watching in amazement as his long fingers curled around hers, dwarfing her entire hand. She was drawn out of his bed and brought to stand before him. Her foot caught on the corner of his discarded blanket and she stumbled and was steadied by his free hand on her waist. The skin burned where his fingers rested lightly.

  “I meant what I said last night,” he said quietly. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Heart a wild mess in her chest, Ana could only st
are up at him. Her spit lodged in her dry throat, taking several attempts before going down. The pit of her stomach fluttered the way it only did when Rafe was close.

  “Come on,” he murmured. “I’ll walk you home.”

  Still giddy and not trusting herself to speak, Ana quickly gathered her damp clothes from the previous night and followed him out of the room. They moved quickly and quietly down the steps towards the back door. Rafe slid the glass back and motioned her into the yard.

  “Will you be okay?” he asked when they reached her back porch.

  Hugging her nearly dry clothes to her chest, Ana shrugged. “I don’t know. I think so.”

  Rafe reached for her. His fingers glided lightly down the length of her forearm to her wrist to finally wrap around her hand. “Do you want me to come in with you?”

  She laughed, the sound coming out shaky. “And risk getting killed by my dad?”

  His features never wavered from their determined set. “I don’t care. I’ll stay if you want me to.”

  Her smile vanished as her heart did a hard flip. She turned her hand and threaded her fingers through his. Without letting herself think about it, she went up on her toes and brushed a kiss to his cheek.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  But rather than let her retreat, his free arm snaked around her middle and she was drawn against him. His warm breath heated the side of her face. She released his hand and raised her arms to slip around his neck. Her fingers tunneled through the silk strands of his hair. His hold on her tightened.

  “I’ll come get you in an hour,” he murmured into her ear. “Wait for me?”

  Ana nodded. The tip of her nose brushed his shoulder with every bob.

  He kissed her temple before stepping back, but did not release her. She could see the hesitation on his face, and smiled.

  “I’ll be okay.”