His Sweet Obsession ~ Rafe Cameron

Chapter 9

The drive back was painfully long. The streetlights cast a dim glow through the windows, illuminating the contours of Rafe's face as he steadily held the steering wheel. Satisfaction was radiating from his expression, evident in his subtle smirk and calm appearance. I shouldn't have come with him. Shouldn't have left Sarah at the beach. Shouldn't have let him win. I stared out the window, outlining the passing houses with my eyes, desperately trying to avoid Rafe's gaze. I could feel his eyes on me, burning into my skin like a persistent itch I couldn't scratch. I did whatever I could to ignore his presence, to forget what happened between us in the car park, relying on each little bump in the road to jolt me back into reality. I closed my eyes, focusing on the distant roar of the ocean to mentally take me back to earlier when we were all surfing at the beach, ridding Rafe from any and all thoughts that I had. Yet It only took me about a minute to realise that it was nearly impossible to do that. He consumed every thought, every feeling that I had, up to the point where I had to wind down the window and deeply inhale the cool night air in order to gain relief from his suffocating presence.

"Maria" he began, breaking the uneasy silence "can we talk?"

I kept my eyes fixed on the passing streetlights "Not really"

He continued to stare at the back of my head, frustrated at my lack of attention on him "Are you gonna look at me?"

"Hmm...Not really" I shrugged softly, refusing to acknowledge his presence. I did want answers about his constant lies, but later when my mind was clearer and less focused on...certain things.

"Alright then" his arrogance seeped through his words like a smug undertone. He wasn't mad, but his tone remained calm, which was all the more terrifying. He was up to something, and I didn't want to find out what. Slowly an aching feeling began to spread along my neck as I remained stiffly turned towards the window, but I couldn't look back, couldn't let him win again. He knew the effect he had on me, knew what I was trying to do by looking away. If this wasn't made clear by his subtle smirks, then it was definitely confirmed when he suddenly placed his hand on my inner thigh. I flinched involuntarily at his touch, clenching my jaw as I tried to fight the wave of longing that threatened to consume me. It wasn't the touch itself that startled me, but the flood of conflicting emotions that it brought. I knew I should push him away, should assert my boundaries and demand respect, but a part of me craved the feeling of his hands tracing along my body. I knew if I gave in now, it would only reinforce his arrogance, his belief that he held all the power over me. But when his thumb began to trace soft circles on my thigh, every ounce, every morsel of self-respect and restraint that I had left was hanging by a thread. And he knew. Still, I kept my gaze on the passing scenery, the darkness of the night offering a veil behind which I could hide my inner turmoil. The torture seemed endless. At one point I was convinced that I was stuck in that moment forever, like a broken record on replay. I must have been praying really hard as God finally answered my prayers, and the car eventually pulled up to my house. Before we had even fully stopped moving, I pushed open the door and leaped out, slamming it harshly.

"Maria wait" I heard Rafe call out from behind me as I ran in the house without looking back, craving the peace my bedroom would bring. I knew he would follow, try to break down my last remaining piece of self-control. There was no way I could let him go anywhere near me again, I wouldn't be as strong next time. And I had to stay strong. I had to push away my feelings. Not 15 minutes ago I was running in fear away from him through an empty car park. But now? I was close to doing the opposite. Making sure there was no way he could get in, I locked the door behind me, even grabbing a chair and angling it under the door handle so it couldn't be opened. In that moment, it was possible to hear the relentless thud of my heart against my chest, as I slowly backed away from the door. Paranoia consumed me, eating away at my thoughts and preventing me from leaving. I had to make sure he wouldn't come in. It was only when I finally calmed my breathing, that I realised he hadn't made any attempt to open the door. There was no shouting, no banging noises or even any angry rattling of the door handle. Had he sensed my discomfort and left? The sound of the running engine was no longer present in the air, so it might have been possible. But this wasn't some random guy, it was Rafe. Curiosity gnawed at me, compelling me to investigate further. I would never be able to sleep comfortably if I knew he was still out there, waiting. Climbing onto the chair, I peered out a small window above the door, careful not to show myself. Darkness hung like a cloak over the sky, making it incredibly difficult to make out any kind of figure or shape in the driveway. But not hard enough to spot Rafe's car parked just by the garage, without him in it. An icy chill ran up my spine as the realisation hit like a ton of bricks.