The Handsome Helper

Chapter 8

The following day the reward was put into place. Whoever caught the rat wouldn't have to work for a month and they'd also get £100. It's a sweet deal but one would wonder what would happen to the rat. Would he kill me? Me his only sister's only daughter? But I guess it would be easy since my mum thinks I'm dead anyway.

"Duch"

"Yeah?" Hoes aren't allowed to keep phones; phones cost money and money is what we earn not what we spend. And as a result I learnt Donny's number before I learnt my times tables. So calling Donny from a phone box that looked and smelled like a public toilet is just one of the many things I put up with.

"What's up? You not dead yet?"

"Actually I am, I'm calling you from ghostville" I say sarcastically

"Say hi to my mum for me"

"Deeeeeeeeeeep" I say in my ghetto-est voice. He laughs and coughs up a lung

"Pick me up"

"No" he whines "I have company" I can tell he's smirking as he tells me about her. She's blonde, thin, dumb and in bed waiting for him. Here's what she is to me: she's that girl you put on your wall for inspiration; she's everything you want to be but can't.

"Ok, I'll work then" I say before hanging up. Less than a minute later, just as I step out of the box: the phone rings. I answer in hopes it's Donny apologising and telling me he's on his way to pick me up.

"Hurry up and get in my car, I'm horny" it's my worst nightmare and my dream come true all balled up into one sentence. So I put my best game face on, hang up without a word, run my hand through my messy hair, stop myself from shaking, step out of the disease infested box, breathe in the cold air, walk over to the 14 plate Mercedes, pull open the driver's door, climb onto Raphael's lap and smile.

It wasn't classy and it wasn't comfortable: it was what happened. He wasn't a gentlemen and he wasn't a prick: he was Raphael.

Deciding to go back to his apartment gave me time to think before round two. It also gave us time to calm our breathing.

"This doesn't mean..." He starts to say as the traffic light we've stopped at turns green "you know, that I feel something for you" filling silence is never easy, not even with practise.

"Yeah I know" I laugh as I plan my next sentence. He sits with an unchanging face "I think my 4 years on the job have taught me not all men have feelings" he doesn't laugh or smile at my playful dig. We park in an under ground car park under neath a block of apartments. I know this side of Manchester, it's where all the Waspy people live. I pegged Raphael as the Uni boy turned copper aka prick but, never Waspy.

I get out of the car careful not to scratch the silver Volvo park next to us.

"I do have feelings" Raphael mutters. I ignore him and walk silently behind him to his apartment.

We get into the apartment after a silent lift ride up here. I learnt that he lives in the 10th floor, 1 below the very top. And he resides in room 72. He also likes to stoke someone's ginger cat for like a whole minute without making a sound.

Raphael opens the door to his apartment to reveal a wall full of squares, I can make out a couple of kanye album covers. It draws me to it like a cat to a mouse but I'm pushed backwards further from it until my back collides with the wall next to the now shut door. His hands search my body for fastens, buttons and zips. Something resembling an opening so we can be closer.

"You're into Kanye" I blurt out into the silence. His lips leave my wet neck and his eyes meet mine for the first time in an hour. Anger is all I see, his pupils turned to red orbs or flames of red and orange.

"Seriously?" He harshly grumbles as he punches the wall a cm away from my head. "I'm trying to turn you on and you're more fascinated by Kanye fucking West" who did I just fuck? This guy's fuse is as short as Warwick Davis.

"Sorry, I just didn't peg you as a poster guy, I'm in shock" he looks behind him at the wall of posters and turns back to me

"Posters?!" He shouts as steps back "these aren.." He finds my hand and drags me across the room kicking everything in our way. He throws me against the wall making me collide with a slightly soft wall. His body presses against mine once again and his hands either side of my head cage me in. I watch as one of his hands disappear behind a poster. He brings out something wrapped in bubble wrap. He takes a big round black disc out of the bubble wrap.

"They're CDs?" I ask clueless

"Kind of, but they're called records" in this light Raphael resembles and sounds like a kid in a sweet shop looking down at his pick'n'mix bag. "You play it on a record player, now, if you want I could play this for you" I smile to encourage him to carry on talking "but you'll have to do something for me" he pats his crotch and winks. I nod accepting his deal. "It's in my room, stay here" he packs the record back into the bubble wrap and slides it behind the poster. "Pick whichever album you want" he calls as he leaves the room to go get his record player.

I pick Kanye West's My beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy and pop the bubble wrap as I wait for him to come back.

Yeezy taught me.

Hey, so the next update will go up when this story reaches 5 votes, bye✌️