The Sinner

38

Rafe was like a beautiful mess.

He was really important to me, and I loved him more than I ever imagined I could. But at the same time, he's a total disaster. He's kind of like the storm, that's out at sea. There's red flags everywhere, screaming at you to stay away when you walk down those stairs to the beach. But sometimes you ignore them.

The storm's really beautiful to watch, but not from up close. It's dangerous to be close to something that treacherous. Although sometimes people get stuck out at sea during storms.

He was the storm, I was the ship.

I think we all can figure out what happens to the ship.

"You are not wearing that."

I spin on my heel to see that Rafe was standing across the room, staring at my outfit. He crosses his arms over his chest, like a child as his eyes run down my body.

It wasn't even bad, I was wearing what I would have always put on. A cropped shirt and jean shorts, were the jean shorts a bit cheeky - yes. Did the shirt show my stomach - yes. But who cares?

"I don't see the issue with it," I say as I spin back around and look at my reflection. He pops into view, and is staring at my ass.

"They're up your ass, Corrine," He clarifies. "Pull them down a bit at least."

"They're high waisted shorts, Rafe," I tell him. He comes behind me, and slides his hand up the bottom of my black shorts. I feel him give me a harsh squeeze, which almost makes me let out a gasp, but I hold it in.

"If I can do this-" He smacks my ass. "-they're too fucking short." He gives the sides a good yank, and they rest back on my hips rather then above. I stare at him, as he gives a nod of approval.

"I can wear whatever I want," I say, making sure he knows. "Sometimes my style of clothing is revealing."

"Well sometimes I just don't want your ass to hangout of your shorts for other guys to look at." He runs a hand through his dirty blonde hair, I try not to stare in awe through the mirror.

"We're going to the police station," I say. "There's no one our age that's going to be looking."

"No one our age, right. But there's fucking creeps that are the age of my dad that could be looking." I roll my eyes at his dramatic tone, I stare at him through the mirror as he doesn't bother to gel his hair after our shower. "And just because they're cops, doesn't mean I won't fuck them up for looking. As I would for anyone."

I turn to face him, wrapping my arms around him, "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Sure," He says, sliding his hands around my waist.

"Dating a pretty girl isn't for the weak," I whisper in his ear. "If you can't handle it, don't get one." I quickly kiss his cheek and walk away.

I hear him follow me out of my room, shutting the door behind him. His footsteps follow me down the hall, I glance over the railing to see Maggie sitting on the couch in the living room.

He suddenly pulls me back so I'm facing him, my back is resting against the brown railing so I'm trapped. His light blue eyes meeting mine warningly.

"You're lucky I can tolerate that mouth of yours," He says, glancing down at my lips.

"You seemed to like it earlier," I say, a smirk forming on my lips. "Something change?"

"Shut up," He grumbles under his breath. "Before I fucking make you." I chuckle, rubbing the sides of his arms mockingly.