The protector by Renata W. Müller - HTML preview

8 YEARS EARLIER

 

Raven

 

Rafe fulfilled his promise and made an appearance at my door at the appointed time to take me out to lunch. I love to be with him, but it’s a fact that since we kissed, something has changed between us. Rafe is not so relaxed anymore, and our formerly friendly relation is no longer functioning. Sexual tension is palpable between us, but for now neither of us knows how to go on. I’m still heroically fighting against my own feelings. I like him more and more, but I find the way he makes a living quite appalling, which stirs up a controversy in my soul.

Tonight I went to the movies with Colin Butler, determined to get Rafe Harlan out of my system and my thoughts, together with the ultra-hot kissing scene whose memory is stubbornly haunting me. Colin is a good boy, he’s courteous, and, more importantly, he’s not a troublemaker. Our tastes agree in several things, we’re both bookworms, and share a few courses too. Colin came to my apartment, and we walked together to the cinema where we watched a romantic film. I found his choice a bit strange, because I’ve never met a male in my life who was willing to watch a Bridget Jones type movie without being forced. With my cousins, this would be out of the question, they even tease me to death when I watch a chick-flick with Claire on TV. I guess, it only proves that Colin wanted to please me, and that counts as a plus, based on which I should feel more attracted to him. After the movie we sat into a café, drank chocolate shake and talked about Shakespeare. The whole evening was really cosy, and the word hearty came to my mind when he walked me home and we stood facing each other in front of the gate. There was no spark, no thumping of the heart, no butterflies in the stomach. I didn’t fantasize about how it would feel to kiss Colin, actually, I was praying hard he wouldn’t even make an attempt, because I would have felt unhappy to turn him down. I didn’t intend to hurt him, but halfway through the evening I could clearly see that I didn’t have any romantic feelings for him. The only hot moment of the date was when we stopped at the gate, and my eyes fell on the wall beside the mailboxes. The memory of my passionate kiss with Rafe Harlan surfaced with such intensity that I could hardly breathe, and when my underbelly contracted at the thought of Rafe’s hips pushing against me, I was sure my plan had failed. No matter how much time I was to spend with Colin, Rafe Harlan’s memory would not be erased by it. Before he could do something stupid, I leaned over to him, and planted a friendly peck on his cheek. I thanked him for the evening, and fled into the house as if in panic.

 

 

Rafe

 

I pull the hood even lower into my head as a smooching couple walks past me in the dark, and they begin to stare with wonder. I get back behind the tree. The last thing I want is someone to recognize me while I sneak around her house. Luckily, she didn’t see me as I watched the scene in front of the gate, wearing a black sweater and with a hood over my head, from a safe distance.

I would’ve loved to spend Saturday night with her, but Raven turned me down without telling me whom she was going to meet. I was full of bitterness the whole night, I couldn’t think of anything else, my nerves were fucked up. Finally, after I’d worked my knuckles against the punch bags at the gym until they bled, I decided to go back to the team house. Sean, a guy from our team had his birthday, and one could already hear the party noises from the campus entrance. I wasn’t really in the mood for partying, but somehow I had to get my thoughts off her. I knocked back a few beers, talked to my mates, but no matter how hard I tried to chill, I couldn’t stop thinking about how Raven was spending the evening with some prick.

The girls tried everything to please me, and I swear, a few weeks ago it would have worked, but none of them excited me now. Finally I had enough, I got up from my seat with frustration, and left the party without a word. Before I could give some thought to what I was doing, I found myself in front of Raven’s flat. When I arrived, it was still dark upstairs, I hoped it was because she hadn’t come back yet, and the light was not off for another reason. The mere idea that she might be up there with somebody else causes a short circuit in my brain. I don’t want to buzz her, as it would definitely border the case of sickly abuse. So I just lean against a tree and wait for her to show up.

Suddenly I notice them approaching from the park. It’s damn dark, I keep gawking at them to get a better view, but I need to be careful not to be seen. She’s with some chap, but they’re not holding hands, which is a good sign. But who’s this little prick? I don’t know him, at least his face doesn’t look familiar from the distance. He’s not from my circles, that much is for sure. They pause at the gate, and talk. My heart wants to jump out of my chest when I see Raven smile at him, but at the same time she folds her arms in front of her body. A gesture of defence and refusal. I do hope the guy will get the picture, and I don’t need to explain to him in detail how to behave. Just then, Raven steps up to him, and on her tiptoes she comes closer to his face. I don’t know what the fuck I will do if she kisses him. I watch the scene petrified, and see that she kisses the prick’s cheek, then quickly retreats and moves towards the gate. An infantile kind of ovation breaks from me, and I want to shout out loud. Of course I don’t, so as not to be spotted. I only celebrate in thought. Get that, mate! She doesn’t want you. You’ve been classified as friend. Loser.

In the light of the gate I get a better picture of the guy’s face, and just to be sure, I make a mark of it in my memory. I decide to run a little private investigation on his person. After I see that Raven goes upstairs on her own, part of the tension that has been vibrating inside me, not far from bursting, begins to ease somewhat. I’m not sure why she didn’t invite him upstairs, or why she didn’t let him to at least kiss her goodbye at the gate, but I’m over the moon that she didn’t. Deep in my heart I’m desperately hoping I’m the reason for it.

Still, I’ll wait for the guy to beat it from the house’s vicinity, and I’ll only go home after that.

 

 

The more I try to talk myself out of it, the more I want it. My common sense tells me that I should forget her and find someone who’s more my type. Raven’s too good for me, I’m well area of that, and yet… I’m too selfish to be able to give up on her. She’s also trying to keep a distance, but it’s ridiculous, we both know that. I can see from the way she looks at me that she wants me, no matter how hard she tries to fight it. I’m just about going insane counting the hours until I can see her again, and I don’t even mind that I’ve become a downright pussy. She has driven me full mad, even though we haven’t even slept together yet. I’ve known her for four months, and other than wild kissing, we’ve had nothing more. This is a damn big achievement by me, and also something new, an unusual experience. For the first time in my life, I feel it’s worth the wait. Still, the air is sizzling between us at a thousand degrees whenever we meet, and as soon as we are on our own, I try to prove to her that our first, heated bout of kisses in front of her apartment wasn’t an exception, but my blood always boils in her closeness.

It would be a pity to deny that I’m madly in love with her, and I’d do anything to prove that I’m worthy of her trust. From day to day, the invisible bond that chains me to her, gets tighter. I have to fight for her, because Raven Bertone doesn’t surrender easily, but I swear, nothing has filled me with greater thrill than to win her.

 

 

I spend the weekend at home, and this time it really looks like I can’t escape the heart-to-heart discussion. My mother has spotted that something’s changed recently, although it didn’t take a genius to notice that, considering my lunatic behaviour. I can see that she’s dying with curiosity, yet she expects me to come up with the issue.

I’m well aware of the fact that my mother has no illusions regarding the money that I earn. She more or less knows what kind of business I run at the campus, and although she’s not very pleased, she understands that there is no legal way to make enough money to cover my brother’s medical expenses. She often tells me that she has a lot of sleepless nights worrying that I might get in trouble, but we both know there’s no other solution. She’s still sad because I’ve become the breadwinner, and it’s quite upsetting for her that it’s not in her power to change the situation.

Last time I was home, she said I’d changed, I was disorganized: in other words, I’m beginning to look like an average twenty-two-year-old boy. I don’t know what exactly she meant by that, but if it’s that I’m less interested in business and I’m head over heels in love with a chick from year one, then there’s some truth in that.

The thing is, I’ve never been the one to bring home and introduce my girlfriends. Probably because none of my previous relationships lasted long enough for it to make sense. Raven is the first girl who makes me want to reconsider the idea, and whom I want to introduce to my mother. The only problem is, she’s actually not my girlfriend. Not officially. But I’m ready to do anything to change that, and very quickly.

 

My mother can’t control herself very long. As soon as we sit down to have lunch, she gets started.

“Come on, say it. I can see something’s happened.”

I sit up straight on my chair, and take a deep breath. Sooner or later she would get it out of me, anyway. We may as well get it over with now.

“I’ve met someone,” I say, scratching the nape of my neck. At that, my mother’s face gets rosy and her eyes glitter as if I had just announced I’ve been nominated for Nobel peace prize.

I’m twenty-two, talking to my mother about my love life. It’s damn embarrassing. I don’t want to dramatize it and say that I practically think of her all day and night. Should I whine to her about how everything I’ve found pleasure in has completely lost its significance, and I miss Raven so much between our dates, that I’m going crazy? It’s not purely physical, although I often feel like my voluntary abstinence is killing me. Even the wet dreams which I abandoned in my teens have returned due to her, yet, I don’t mind that we’re waiting with sex.

“It’s a f-f-freshman girl from university,” I add, after some hesitation.

My mother looks at me with amazement. I suspect it’s not only because of the news, but because she hasn’t heard me stammer since I was eighteen. This defect practically stayed with me all through my childhood, only to disappear after we moved to the States. It only surfaces whenever I’m frustrated or excited about something. My mother, though, in her wisdom, decides not to bring up the issue, and she only focuses on the positive part of my confession.

“Thank goodness!” she raises her hands to the sky.

“This girl… she’s somehow different.” I place my head in my hands, and my voice is now so sentimental, I hardly recognize myself. This once I try not to beat about the bush. My heart is so full of her that it feels good to get it all off my chest. “I think she’s the one, mum.”

The emotions paint a big smile on my mother’s face. She even puts down the fork, and placing her elbow on the table, she stares at me, resting her chin in her palm.

“It was high time, son. What’s her name? What does she study? When will you bring her here?”

I try to satisfy her curiosity much as I can, but I must realize that I myself don’t know too much about Raven. Although she’s begun to gradually open up to me, I still have the feeling that there are things she keeps to herself. I haven’t forced it, especially as I also have a few skeletons in the closet. Things that I’d rather keep quiet about. However, I want us to move ahead, and that requires honesty. When I’m with her, everything is better, but I also know that we haven’t reached the necessary level of trust yet. I can’t help but notice that Raven becomes uncertain when it comes to her family, and she never hints that she wants me to meet them. Maybe she’s ashamed of me, or if it’s not me, then the things I do at the campus. But this is not enough for me, I want much more of her, and I’m ready to go to any lengths to earn her appreciation. I want her to give me her trust, but for that to happen, I also have to step over my own shadow.

 

Raven

 

I’ve given up protecting myself against my own feelings. I must admit, the attraction that draws me towards Rafe Harlan is stronger than what common sense tells me, that is, not to get involved with a guy who is at odds with the law. I want him so strongly that it sometimes scares me, regardless of all his illegal activities, or even the rumour spreading about him at the campus. Since we met, he seems to have been changing his ways about certain things anyway, although as a matter of fact, I don’t want him to change. I like him as he is, his alpha-male-type outbursts included.

We kind of slid into the boyfriend-girlfriend status, as time went by. I couldn’t really say when exactly it happened, but for a while it has been obvious for our surroundings as well that we belong together. Rafe walks with me at the campus holding my hand, kisses me publicly before I enter the lecture hall, and wherever we make an appearance together, he makes it obvious to everybody that I belong to him. And the people watch us with an open interest. I’m not very happy about the publicity, in fact, this is exactly what I wanted to avoid when I came to St. Thomas, but this is also part of the ’Rafe Harlan package’. He's one of the most popular students of the university, a star flanker of the rugby team, everybody’s favourite. Wherever we make an appearance, curious, observing eyes are on us. I feel the girls’ envious stares on me, because I’m the one who’s hit the jackpot, and quite honestly, I’m not terribly impressed by this special interest. As Rafe Harlan’s girlfriend, I’m automatically placed in the focus of attention, whether I want it or not. My initial mingling with the crowd that gave me protection in the first months is now history, and I, although with butterflies in my stomach, have come to terms with the toll it takes to be with him.

I’ve also learned a few interesting things about myself. Despite my previous conviction, I’ve had to realize that I’m not attracted to reticent, shy bookworms, after all. Rather – exactly like my mother and my aunt – I tend to fall for determined men with a powerful appearance. Bang! The recognition really hits home. This is a family feature, or some kind of a genetic coding in our case. I like that Rafe openly says, and then takes, what he wants.

There’s an exception, though. Although we’ve been together for a while, we haven’t slept with each other yet. We do certain things after which, totally aroused, we – Rafe with a stone hard erection, and I with wobbly knees and wet underwear – say good night to one another; but we haven’t reached the final stage, as such. I’m still a virgin. But as our relationship gets more intimate by the day, I feel it more and more of a pressing matter to change this state. With every minute we spend together, I’m more certain that Rafe Harlan’s going to be my first.

 

“This is too much, Rafe. Seriously.”

“Don’t you like it?” he glances at me, from the other side of the beautifully set table covered with a snow white tablecloth.

“Of course I do. It’s beautiful,” I smile back, gushing. I’m moved by the gesture to the bottom of my heart, it’s so sweet that he tries his best to arrange a perfectly romantic evening for us. “But KFC would have done it, too.”

“Are you being silly?” he raises his eyebrows with pretended resentment. “You’ve passed the big test with flying colours, and even I didn’t fail, so a five-star restaurant is the minimum,” he winks, and I laugh out.

Horribly expensive restaurants don’t impress me, as the Bertone clan loves to frequent such places, but I will not inform Rafe about that. The point is not how much he spends on dinner, but on the effort with which he tries to conjure a romantic evening for us. He looks out for my thoughts, spoils me, protects me, and all of that at such a level I feel adored, desired, and like a lady who’s the centre of the world.

I don’t like to think about the approaching one-week break that I have to spend at home. One week at the Bertone estate, far from Rafe sounds cruel, yet, it doesn’t even cross my mind to ask him to come with me. This option – for now, at least – is out of the question. At first I have to prepare the family, I need to warm them up to the big news that I’m seeing someone. At the moment I’m scared of my cousins’ reaction to the developments. I can almost see the scene as Sandro and Chris, wearing black masks, jump out of a van with smoked glass windows, and drag Rafe away to an abandoned storage house in the suburb, where they torture him until he tells them about his intentions regarding their girl cousin. At first I smile at the thought, but then, remembering what the boys did at highschool with my potential boyfriends, I come to the conclusion that it’s not so funny after all. With the Bertone boys, you never know, and being familiar with Rafe’s heated temper, an ill-prepared encounter might reach an embarrassing conclusion.

I feel more and more positive that Rafe has the right to know about my family background. The secret I carry inside is a heavy weight on my heart. I don’t suppose Rafe would run in the opposite direction, screaming if he learned about the Bertone clan, since he’s not a saint himself, yet, I’m worried. It’s only fair if I give him a chance to decide, whether he wants to be with me even regardless of my family’s underworld activities. The thought that it might cause Rafe to break up with me, is giving me a pain in the stomach, but I know, sooner or later I have to discuss it with him.

I’ve been planning for a while to carefully inform my family about the recent developments, preparing the way, but somehow I always find a reason to put it off. I’m scared. I don’t dare take the risk that the dark cloud named mafia which hovers over my life, might destroy the little private heaven I’ve been living in lately.

While we eat, I reach over the table and give his hand a squeeze. Rafe lifts it to his mouth, and sensuously kisses the length of my fingers – or, should I say, he sucks on them, sending pulsing lust waves through my body, igniting my female parts. He really knows his skill, no doubt about that. Every single touch, his every naughty glance generates erotic desire in me, which I find harder and harder to control. I enjoy the spoiling with my eyes closed, for a while oblivious of the outside world. Then, as the waiter stops by our table, clearing his throat to serve the main course, I withdraw my hand with a blush.

My eyes glide over the mouth-watering salmon plate.

“Good heavens! That’s going to cost a fortune!” the words spill from my mouth, even before I could mind them.

The moment I say it, I regret the dumb comment. I know that Rafe doesn’t have any financial problems with his business activities, although we rarely ever discuss them. Neither of us pursues the topic, but I’m still quite curious to know what motivates him to do this kind of work. My very first impression of him, when he broke the door on me as a greedy, raging madman, has been replaced by more recent, more pleasant ones. Rafe doesn’t strike me as a materialistic, mean man, so it’s all the more difficult for me to get why he takes the extra stress and risk that is part of running an illegal gambling site.

As if he was reading my mind, he clears his throat, and casting some flat looks about him, he speaks up in a muted voice.

“I’ve wanted to discuss something with you for a while.”

I raise my eyebrows, and biting into my lip, I look into his eyes. Judging from his soft tone and careful sideways glances, it’s not the rugby results that he wants to talk about. My assumption turns out to be right.

“It’s about the poker.”

All my nerves stand on end at this word. I can’t decide whether to feel worried or to be happy about this sudden spell of honesty.

“I’m listening,” I say quietly.

“I know we haven’t really discussed this topic,” he scratches the back of his neck with agony. “I mean, since the first time… when I visited you about the debt.”

I smile at the delicate wording. He visited me, all right. That’s funny.

“You gave me the creeps,” I confirm with a smile, and his face also softens a little.

“The thing is… well, I’ve already mentioned my brother to you.”

“Will. Yes, you have,” I nod.

“Will,” he scratches his forehead, and his face makes a grimace. It really shows how hard it is for him to talk about this topic.

I reach over the table, and cover his nervously drumming fingers with my palm.

“Relax, Rafe! It can’t be so terrible,” I try to joke with him, but at that, only a tense little smile crosses his face. Then I remember my own situation, my own secrets, and realize that it can. In certain cases it can be rather terrible. I honestly hope that Rafe is only overdramatizing his own issue.

“Will is just turning nineteen, but mentally he’s on the level of a six-year-old.”

He fixes his eyes on his plate as the sentence leaves his mouth, and I stare at him furrowing my brow, in an attempt to comprehend what’s been said. Is he trying to explain that his younger brother is mentally disabled? As the silence is stretching a bit too long, and it doesn’t seem like Rafe is going to continue, I speak up.

“Oh, Rafe! I had no idea. You’ve never mentioned it. Do I understand it correctly that…”

“Yes,” he nods, slowly lifting his head, fixing his gaze full of worry on me. “Will is disabled. He’s not able to take care of himself. He needs help with almost everything.”

I heave a sigh, and fold my fingers into his.

“I don’t know what to say. It can’t be easy for you and your mum. You haven’t said much about this, but whenever you mentioned him, your words were always full of love, I could still feel that.”

Rafe pulls a bitter smile.

“Will is an adorable kid. Still, he’s only a kid, with angry outbursts, and nursery-level problems. The difference is, he will never grow out of these. And for some unknown reason, he also loves me,” he shrugs his shoulders, shaking his head.

This time I’m even more astonished at his strange statement. Why wouldn’t his brother love him? His unusual tone gets me thinking, and I’m drawn with the deep pain I see in his eyes as he talks about his brother.

“After we moved to the States, my mother was unable to look after him at home,” he continues, sounding dejected. “Will was no longer a skinny little boy like before, and my mum didn’t have the strength to tend to him. It was a must that we search for a solution. Then I found this home. It’s a great place with amazing nurses and friendly rooms – it had everything without which my mother would never have let Will leave home. Except, it was fucking pricy,” he says, and his voice quivers at the end.

I’m thinking hard, trying to put together the puzzle pieces. Slowly, I’m beginning to realize what he’s hinting at.

“My mother would have died of the hard work, but she never would have let him go to a lousy place. And I wouldn’t have allowed him to be placed into some crammed, shitty institution. I had to find money.”

“Hence the poker,” I finish it for him.

“I was just starting university when we moved here. We were quite skint financially. My studies and Will’s treatment…” he exhales with resignation. “Honestly, there were very few things that I wouldn’t have done if well paid. And then the poker software entered the scene. A rugby mate started it all, even before I got here. When he left university, he asked if I wanted to take it over from him. Of course I did. He was a nice guy and allowed me to pay for the software in parts. Initially, most of my income was spent on that. It was also through him that I obtained joint and crack, whenever someone ordered it for a party. I’m not proud of it all, but this is the fastest and safest way of making money. It took me a year to pay up my debt, and soon it began to pay off. Since then, I’ve been covering Will’s costs in the home with this money, and besides paying my own expenses, I can even support my mother.”

“And your father?”

He leans back in the seat, and a contemptuous gurgling sound leaves his mouth.

“My father is an arsehole. He couldn’t endure the situation,” he spits out the words, drawing quotation marks in the air. “After the accident, when it became evident that Will would never be the same, he began to drink hard. Finally, he almost never came home, and when he did, he was a big mess. It wasn’t enough for my mum to take care of Will, that dickhead was also there. When we moved to the States, he left us for good. We’ve got no contact whatsoever with him.”

I quiver at his harsh, disdainful words describing his father. I, who loved my father, and despite his faults, still love my uncle from my heart, can’t even imagine what it takes for a child to talk about his parents with such hatred. But there’s something else that bothers me.

“After the accident?” I ask, furrowing my brow, lifting my eyes at him. This is also a new piece of information which turns my view over completely about the whole story.

Rafe looks up with alarm, as if he is just becoming aware of what he’s just said. He gulps nervously, his breathing becomes a