Chapter Five

 

Rafe

 

On the morning of the Halloween party, with much excitement and expectation, I leave the motorbike near Raven’s apartment. True, it wasn’t part of our plan, but when I spotted the Princess Leia Halloween costume at the shop, I spontaneously bought it for her. Of course, not the warrior-like, damned sexy slave girl version. Not that I wouldn’t be pleased to see her in the gold bra, the knee boots and with handcuffs on her wrists. I very much would be. The erotic fantasy of Raven as a warrior princess in a gold bikini, handcuffed to my bed chased me all night and in the morning, causing a permanent hardness in my pants. But I’m jealous, because the other bastards who will be present at the Halloween party will for sure feel the same way at Raven’s sight. So I opted for the much more reserved, classic white costume. Even that is too much for my aroused senses when I picture her in the white knee-length boots, and her thigh flashing from under the skirt cut up to the waist.

With the gift box in my hands, I start for the house and I’m already in a feverish state at the possibility of seeing her for even just a moment, before the night party.

I wanted us to go together, but Raven insisted that we meet there. She said she had something to do before, and I had no other choice but to accept this, knowing we are leaving the party together.

This is the big day. More specifically, big night. I’m so damn worked up, more than before my own first time. My friends and team mates keep teasing me these days because I’ve changed to a completely monogamic lifestyle, but I’m not bothered about them. They have no idea about the whole thing. I don’t regret one bit that I waited for her, although the sex-abstinence wasn’t easy. This detail is no one else’s business, though.

Now though, when I know that only a few hours separate me from making Raven mine, I can hardly help myself. I want everything to be perfect, and – fuck, yeah – romantic. My apartment is outside the campus, and for a reason. Because of the business, I need discretion and occasionally a place to retreat, which is impossible at the rugby house. So I’ve scattered red roses all over the place, cooled a bottle of Jacquesson Cuvée, and bought enough strawberries too. I got enough condoms to last a year. I’ve been waiting very long for Raven Bertone to be mine, and I don’t plan to let her out of my bed too soon. I don’t plan to let her out of my life at all.

With the fancy box under my arm I walk towards the entrance to surprise her with it. Absorbed in my thoughts I look up, and pull a grin when I saw Raven stepping out at that very moment. The grin leaves my face at once, because she’s not alone. A big, black-haired, broad-shouldered guy is hugging her shoulder, and leaning down to her confidentially, whispers something into her ear. The man is definitely older than her, and from the way they hold on to each other so intimately, I don’t doubt they have a close bond.

I’m taken aback, and stare at the scene, petrified. My body parts are heavy as lead, and I’m unable to take another step, to move on, or even just to avert my eyes from them. I stare, holding my breath as the big, broad-shouldered, black-haired chap takes Raven to a car. It’s a 93 fucking Ferrari Mondial coupé, damn it! When I get there, another man gets out of the car. He also has black hair, but he’s taller and thinner than the other. My stomach churns as the second guy also gives Raven a big hug, and she puts her arms around his neck. Nausea creeps up my throat, and I’m close to throwing up. I think I’ve gone crazy. I don’t understand a thing. I no longer understand the world. Frozen, I watch the taller guy put his hand on Raven’s waist with confidence. He opens the door for her, and she gets into the back, while he climbs in after her. The one with the broad shoulders says something to the other, then gets into the driver’s seat and starts the engine.

I can’t believe my eyes. This is my girlfriend. My innocent Bella whom I’ve respected like a goddess. The one I’ve taken care of and protected, and with whom I haven’t slept yet, only because I was waiting for the perfect occasion. This is my supposedly untouched girlfriend who now drives off in a fucking Ferrari, with not just one but two men.

Petrified, I watch the car leave. It slowly disappears from my eyes in the traffic. It takes me a minute until I can make a move, and putting one foot after the other, feeling numb, I start towards my motorbike. People I know are passing me by, they address me, talk to me, I even respond to them without really being aware of my words. I put the fancy box next to the nearest bin, start the engine, and drive all the way home in autopilot mode. I go up into the apartment, drop myself onto the sofa and just stare in front of myself. I’m in a kind of shock, feeling nauseous. It’s even hard to breathe. I’ve only felt something similar once in my life, when I pulled Will’s lifeless body to the shore, out of the water. I’m suffocating under the ton’s weight that is heavy on my chest. Again and again, I run through the scene in my mind, but can’t explain in any other way what I’ve seen. I believed every word she was fooling me with for months, and never doubted her purity. Even though, quite evidently, I’m not the only man in her life. I might be the only loser, but sure as hell, not the only one she sleeeps with. Those two macho-looking, rich chaps were close to her, that much was obvious from the way they touched each other. I’m sick with disillusionment. I’ve never been so stood up in my whole life.

My phone begins to buzz in my pocket, which brings me back to reality. I take out the device and glance at the display. A mate is calling from the team, but I let the answering machine switch on. When the phone goes quiet, I lift it up again, and stare at the screen for a while. I can’t resist the temptation, I must do it. I call Raven’s number, and she only picks up after multiple rings.

”Hi,” she cooes into the phone, and hearing her voice, the room turns upside down with me. I close my eyes tight and take a few deep breaths before answering.

“Hi.”

I hear muffled noises from the background, then footsteps, and maybe a door closing. Then it’s Raven again.

“You miss me, don’t ya?” she asks teasingly.

Fuck it! – I mumble between my teeth, holding the phone away from my mouth.

“Yes. I do. I just… w-wanted to ask if everything’s okay,” I moan with a muted voice.

“Yes. All okay.”

“Are you home?” I ask, and clutch the phone so hard, waiting for the answer, that my knuckles go white.

“Ehm… no. I…” she hesitates.

“What are you doing?” I ask with an icy voice, not sure I’m ready for the answer. As for me, I’ve given her a chance. This is her last opportunity to clear herself.

“I’m shopping. I still need to buy a few things for this evening,” comes the mysterious reply, and she even sniggers.

I hit rock bottom. She’s lying.

When I’m not saying anything, she asks again. “Are you all right? You sound so strange.”

I gulp, dig into my hair, and put my elbows on my knees.

“Sure. Everything’s fine. Are you alone?” I ask really softly.

She hesitates for a few seconds before answering, then gives me the coup de grace.

“Yes.”

“I see.”

“Sorry, I’ve got to go now. See you in the evening, as planned,” she says in a rush, and now more noises come from the background. “I can’t wait,” she adds promisingly.

“I also can’t wait,” I say icily, and when the line is disconnected, I drop my arm in my lap, torn.

For several minutes I sit motionless, in a merciless struggle with the annihilating pain in my heart. The world collapses around me, and I stand right there, in the middle of the mess. I only concentrate on the next breath, and when that is done, then on the next one. I have no idea how long I’ve been sitting here silently, sunk in myself, but slowly, an ice cold determination fills my body. I stand up and throw the mobile phone against the wall at full strength. The device falls to pieces with a crash, its parts shatter over the floor, exactly as my heart is also in ruins.

 

 

Raven

 

This promises to be the most thrilling night of my life, so I make a big effort preparing for it. I work for an hour on my sexy, smoky-look makeup, then I decide that it looks hot enough. I put my hair back with a red hairband, and with colouring spray I put in a few blue stripes. Being familiar with Rafe’s affection for motorbikes, I’ve decided to follow the motorbike gang theme, and opted for a leather dress. To match the black, high-heel knee boots I put on tights and a short leather skirt that barely covers the lacy elastic of the tights. Under the identical black leather top I’m wearing a push-up bra that substantially enlarges my real size, but the hot bra is an indispensable accessory. I’ve bought a few cheap sticky tattoos – skulls, cobras, and so on – to put them on for a laugh. When I’m finally ready and cast a glance into the standing mirror by the entrance, I nearly get a heart attack. I’ve definitely gone too far – I remark, chewing on my lips. I like fashion, and I love to dress nicely, but this here is well beyond the limits of good taste. Of course, the occasion is also unique. I’m going to a Halloween party, where very different rules apply, yet, I’m not so sure I’m ready to show up in public in this “shag me right now” outfit. I initially meant it as a joke, to carry on with Rafe a bit. I wanted to seduce him with the sexy clothes, but if I show face like this at the party, it’s quite likely that Rafe won’t be the only one to feel enticed.

I try to remove some of my makeup, I tug at the skirt, I pull the tights upwards, but the image in the mirror is still that of a slut. Thank goodness, my cousins can’t see me in this outfit. For sure, they would put me on the first plane and send me to the Kartause nunnery – I roll my eyes in thought. I look at the wall clock with uncertainty. I’m already running over half an hour late, can’t waste any more time. Besides, I don’t even have a plan B regarding the outfit, so let’s go for it! I take a deep breath, exhale loudly, and with full determination, slam the door shut behind me.

 

 

As I approach the rugby house, there’s no doubt I’m at the right place. Lights are blaring through the windows, and there’s a complete display of bulbs inside and out. The grass at the front is full of people as are the steps; they are smoking and chatting. The noise of thumping music and shrill laughter are is heard from inside. With hesitation, I start for the door, and as I enter, loud whistles and comments of appreciation are following me as I go. I’m visibly not the only one who went a bit too far with their Halloween costume. I note the clothes I thought to be too provoking are definitely not sticking out from the multitude of slutty nurse, handcuff-toting policewoman, and practically seethrough-topped, leather-whipping playboy bunny costumes. This discovery puts me at ease to some extent. It’s a fact, that this is the first real Halloween party where I participate without my cousins’ protective presence, and I’m ready to enjoy it to the fullest. I say hello to the people I know, and chat a little with some friends before I start looking for Rafe. In the meantime I walk past a cocktail stall, and decide – to hell with age limits – I need something to strengthen my spirit. I grab a glass and pour myself a big portion. While I sip on the drink, I scan through the crowd in case I catch sight of Rafe. I explore the entrance hall packed with people, but can’t get rid of the uncanny feeling that some people are eyeing me strangely. After a brief greeting and a quick wave of the hand, everybody I know breaks the eye contact with me. With embarrassment, I rub my palm down the side of my skirt. Could the leather outfit have still been a bad idea? – I muse, as I definitely can’t place the puzzled looks of people – especially those of Rafe’s team mates. At last I bump into Sinjin, the rugby team’s full back, at the bottom of the stairs. I almost bounce off the blond boy’s broad, hard chest, and he protectively grabs me by the shoulders so that I don’t fall. Sinjin is close with Rafe, they are actually roommates, although Rafe rarely sleeps in the team house. As opposed to most of the team members, Sinjin has always been nice to me whenever we run into one another after a game or on the grounds of the campus. He greets me with a big smile on his face, as before. In the first moment, at least. Then, as I look up at him, and assure him with laughter that I’ve survived the massive collision without any serious injuries, the smile dies on his face and it’s replaced by an expression full of concern.

“What is it?” I ask with a frown. I’m getting fed up with people eyeing me strangely.

“Ehm, nothing, it’s just…” he shrugs his shoulders, casting a flat glance towards the steps. “I didn’t think you’d also be here,” he finishes the sentence with a strange emphasis that I can’t make head nor tail of.

Why the hell wouldn’t I be here? As Rafe’s girlfriend, I’m also invited.

“Why wouldn’t I be here?” I ask with irritation, and he begins to scratch his neck.

“Well, I mean…”

“Where’s Rafe?” I interrupt impatiently.

Troubled, Sinjin digs his fingers into his hair, visibly hesitating before giving an answer. Then, his present girlfriend, a short, red-haired girl joins us, and putting an arm around his waist, observes me with a tilted head.

“He’s upstairs,” she pokes her chin towards the steps, cutting Sinjin’s agony short.

“Thanks,” I say briefly, and sending the couple a quick smile, I start up the stairs. Turning back halfway I see that Sinjin says something to the girl while shaking his head, and she shrugs her shoulders, spreading her arms, and explaining something to him.

 

Glancing around from the top of the stairs, I once again note the students’ house is huge. The open top floor is framed by wooden bannisters, and it overlooks the ground floor with the gigantic entrance hall, living room area and kitchen. People are sitting around in armchairs, on the sofa and on the floor, all over each other, everywhere. I step over them carefully, yet, I almost stumble on a hobbit sitting on the floor, and what’s more, someone slaps my butt while whistling with appreciation. I turn towards the cheeky pawing guy, but just then, in one of the corners, on a scarlet red leather sofa, I catch sight of Rafe. I freeze and stare at him with eyes open wide. He sits in the middle of a small group, like some pasha, with a witch on one side, whose breasts could pop out of her black lacy top at any moment, and with a strikingly pretty blonde, wearing a cheerleader’s costume, on the other side. I recognize her. She’s Rafe’s ex girlfriend, Kacey. She’s the one who threw herself in Rafe’s neck that one time after the game, and who, ever since I’ve been with Rafe, has been casting hateful glances at me whenever we meet. The other girl, though, who’s sitting on his right, stroking his thigh with dedication, I don’t know. For a while I just stare at the bizarre scene, without a clue what to think. Something’s really wrong with the whole sight. Ever since we’ve been dating, I’ve never seen Rafe with another girl. I can’t know, of course, what he does when we’re not together, but when he’s with me, his attention, his touch and his smile are a hundred percent mine. It’s a stomach-churning feeling to see him in the intimate company of other girls, but at this point I’m still overcome by a strange numbness. What I feel, I can’t even call jealousy.

As our eyes meet, Rafe’s face jerks painfully. He studies me from head to toe, then again, starting with my feet, at which the girls turn in my direction. His eyes thristily drink in the sight of my thighs in the lacy tights. His chin tenses, his mouth forms a thin stripe, and I can see that he murmurs something under his nose. Then, as if coming round from under a spell, a wide grin spreads on his charming face, and raising his eyebrows, he nods in my direction.

“Hi, sweetheart! At last. I though you weren’t coming at all.”

I listen with a furrowed brow, but find it harder and harder to follow what’s happening. It also crosses my mind that this might just be some grotesque Halloween prank, and he only wants to test my reaction. I look around to see if there’s one of his mates somewhere filming how I react. I’m not very experienced with such teasings between couples. Rafe is my first, real boyfriend, and so far we haven’t fallen out seriously. Our fights were only silly, pretended bickerings, which normally ended with Rafe taking me in his arms, tickling me all over and kissing me until I begged for his mercy.

I don’t know what to do. Should I go there and ask Kacey or the other girl to pull their arse over to the side, so that I can sit beside my boyfriend? I feel like I’ve found myself in a bad movie. While I hesitate, all eyes are on me. Rafe reaches out his hand to me, and with expectation and his eyebrows raised, he looks at me. His hand shivers in the air with uncertainty, as if he isn’t in control of his moves. I’m positive that he’s drunk, and his eyes are so red that I wouldn’t be surprised if he has sniffed something. Plus, now that I’m so close to him, I notice his gashed eyebrow. The wound looks quite fresh. What could have happened? I lift the cocktail glass to my mouth, and, hoping to take courage from it, I knock back its contents in one.

There’s no need to address the girls; Rafe himself pushes the witch woman to the side, so I can squeeze myself in. He grabs my hand, and yanks me over to him in a not-so-delicate manner, so I land in his lap. Slowly and with pleasure, he pulls his nose along my neck, and moans loudly.

“Did something happen?” I ask uncertainly, at which he lifts his hazy eyes on me.

“I don’t know. You tell me,” he asks me back.

His intonation is so strange and accusing that I blush in spite of myself. But I haven’t done anything wrong, and the only thing I feel guilty about is what’s been on my mind since the beginning of our relationship. The Bertone clan. This is not the night of big conversations, though. I’ve scheduled the revelation for tomorrow.

“What’s this scar on you?” I reach for his eyebrow. The corner of his mouth jerks.

“I had to teach Jace some good manners, not a big deal,” he responds, howling, but there’s no humour in his voice. When I don’t answer, just silently wait for him to go on, he adds, “You should see him, baby. He turned out much worse,” he winks. Or at least he tries, but ends up wincing, and finally pulls me close to him by the nape of my neck.

I gasp as his tongue leaves a wet patch on the sensitive skin of my neck.

“Fuck it, Raven! I love this perfume on you. Your scent just drives me nuts,” he mumbles, while continuing to bite on my neck. “Do you want to torture me to death? Is that why you’ve dressed like this?”

His hand possessively glides up and down my thigh, under my skirt, dangerously close to the edge of my underwear. My heart beats in my throat. The whole schizophrenic situation pushes me to my limits. Rafe’s tongue on my skin, his teeth biting into my flesh, his hand under my skirt and his hardness against my thigh, and all of that done in public, with watchful eyes on us, is just too much. He still wants me madly, there’s no doubt about it, and judging from his movements, with eagerness too, but something is still different from before. There is something utterly ordinary and cheap about the way he is reaching for my underwear, while groping my thigh. He’s never acted like this with me at a public place. Even though I long for his touch and my skin is burning under his fingers, my face is also flushed with shame. I try to push away his hand and pull away from him slightly, but he won’t let me. One of his hands is squeezing my waist, while with the other he turns my chin towards him and begins to devour my mouth. His breath has a strong alcoholic aroma. It’s not from cocktail, for sure. His tongue takes control of my mouth wantonly and demandingly. It’s the type of kiss that – if not done in front of an audience – normally makes me swoon with pleasure, but this is now completely different. I can feel on me the stares of not just the girls but all who are present, and this intimidates me. I don’t understand why he is acting like this, and why now, on this special night. I’m dying for his closeness, the heat of his body, his mouth on mine, but it would be much better if he didn’t do all of this in public. He murmurs sensouously into my mouth, and apparently doesn’t intend to stop the show. As my hand brushes against a hand that’s obviously not Rafe’s, I lift my head quickly, and see with a shock that Kacey is lustfully stroking him while we two are kissing. It’s like ice cold shower pouring over my body. I immediately come round. I pull my face away from his, and stare at him with confusion.

“What’s all this, Rafe? Some joke? Because if it is, I’m not having fun.”

He looks back at me panting, with burning desire in his eyes. His speech, like that of a drunkard, is uneasy and erratic.

“I’m not j-j-joking at all. I want you. Can’t you feel how much?” he asks, and pulling my hand to his fly, he proves how serious he is.

As soon as I feel his hardness against my palm, I want to pull my hand away at once, but Rafe’s fingers wrap around my wrist like a handcuff. We hold eye contact for a few seconds, while I’m torn between raw desire and shame.

“Do you want me too, Bella?” he asks with a cynical tone in his voice.

“Of course, but…” I start with embarrassment, and only when I try to pull my hand away from his crotch for the third time does his grip loosen on my wrist. “But not… like this,” I say, casting a quick glance around us.

Rafe exhales with mockery, and he makes a sound that is close to laughter.

“Of course not. This is not your style, right? This is not how you imagine your first time,” he says teasingly, with his hands forming quotation marks in the air.

“You’re drunk,” I remark matter-of-factly, and now firmly pull away from him, simultaneously colliding into Ms Witch’s protruding boobs.

“I’m fucking drunk, damn it,” he laughs roughly, pulling a bottle out from somewhere behind his back, to take a good drag from it.

Seizing the moment, I stand up and mumble something to myself, like I need some fresh air, and I step away from him. I can still see him looking at me with a burning stare, I hear him calling my name after me, but I don’t turn back. Grabbing the bannister, I rush down the stairs. I push myself through the crowd, and stepping out of the entrance, I take such a deep breath of the chilly air that my lungs almost burst. My head is dizzy, my stomach is in a wild dance, and I’m utterly confused. Somebody offers me a cigarette, but I only shake my head. Holding onto the balcony’s bars, I lift my face to the sky and stare into the night.

After a short while, two eager hands grab my waist, hugging my belly, then I’m pressed between the bars and a chest. I don’t need to look back to see that it’s Rafe. I don’t only know it from the aroma of alcohol on his breath, but also from the sensual desire shaking my body the moment he touches me and pulls me to him.

“Are you thinking of running away?” he mumbles into my neck, pressing his hips firmly against my butt.

I heave a sigh.

“I’m not.”

“Have you changed your mind?” he asks roughly, and there is no need to get into the details of what he means.

My fingers are strongly grasping the bannister. Have I changed my mind? Holy Mother! Of course I haven’t. My imagination has kept wandering stubbornly under Rafe Harlan’s clothes ever since we first met. And since we agreed to sleep together, I practically can’t think of anything else. The Rafe I’ve come to know in the past months, the one who has been patiently pulling down the wall of my bias and distrust is not the same boy who broke into my apartment the first time, huffing and puffing. I fell in love with him, totally and irreversibly. I don’t have the slightest doubt in my heart that I want to give myself to him. I’ve come here tonight with a firm determination and a passionate expectation, more than ready for the big event. This guy, though, who’s presently massaging my breasts, and whose erect penis is pressing against my butt, is also not the same Rafe Harlan whom I know as my boyfriend. And I can’t comprehend what has caused the change.

The popping of a champagne bottle and the loud noise of laughter quickly brings me back from my thoughts.

“I haven’t changed my mind. Why are you asking me that?” I look back.

“Because you disappeared so quickly just before.”

“Do you wonder why?” I raise my eyebrows, insulted.

“Are you jealous? He asks back, provokingly, and turns me to face him.

“Do I not have a reason for it?” I return the question, in a similar style.

“I thought you liked that kind of thing.”

“What? Other girls touching and feeling my boyfriend in front of me?”

Rafe pulls a cynical grin, but immediately loses balance, and has to grab onto the metal bar. He’s in a lousy state.

“When several people are h-h-having sex. In a group. You know.”

I stare at him with my chin dropped, then turning my back on him, I step away. What the hell is wrong with him?

He grabs my arm, and for his tipsy state, he yanks me back to him with surprising strength. He takes my chin into his palm, and kisses me firmly. I stir a little between his hands, but don’t really want to free myself. Even though I can sense that something is really not right, my body gives away how much I want him. I lust for him more than being able to resist him, no matter what a jerk he is in this moment. Rafe takes rugby