Behind the Tears (Behind the Lives) (18 page)

“No, it’s cool, we can go there,” Corey said, realising he needed to get out of the rut he was in. “I came to see you anyway.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, then that makes two of us. I only came to the party cos Kirstin said she’d invited you. My cousin’s got a crush on you. Sorry, I didn’t think it was appropriate to out you to her, plus she might have uninvited you. Anyway, that girl doesn’t know what she wants, cos I’m sure she has a thing for both Tag and Josh as well. If I was her, I’d opt for Josh even if Tag’s hotter, at least the other kid doesn’t have a horrible mouth on him. And Tag’s a trouble maker, not worth his pretty face or butt. Ah... I didn’t meana say that, not like I look at it, nasty’s not my taste.”

Corey smiled, feeling a little bit better after Tyler’s long ramble. The guy was obviously as nervous as he was.

Tyler smiled back. “You have one angelic smile. I know it’s a cliché, but it looks like butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth. You are so cute.”

“I’m
not
cute.”

“Yes, you are, my friends would give their right arm to be with you, and one other body part.”

Corey pulled a face. “You’re just smooth talking me, cos you wanna get into my pants.”

Tyler snorted, then started laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Corey said, not happy he was being laughed at.

“It’s cliché heaven tonight. But you’re only half right. Yeah, I want in, but I’m still telling you the truth: you really are cute. But, don’t think I’m only after you cos of that, you’re nice, and you aren’t pretentious like the guys I’m used to. It’s refreshing not having someone more interested in what I’m wearing than what’s under it.” Tyler smiled. “I saw the way you were looking at me earlier.” His smile widened. “And I love the way you blush so easily. It’s adorable.”

Corey covered his checks. “I can’t help it, and it’s not adorable, it’s horrible.”

“Believe me, it’s adorable.”

Corey turned to look out the window, feeling uncomfortable again.

“You want the radio on?” Tyler asked.

Corey nodded without looking at him. A rap song that Sledge liked came on. Corey wondered where Sledge was right now. Probably with his bastard brother. He didn’t know why Sledge didn’t completely cut ties with Ash. Okay, Ash looked after Sledge for a while, but hell, he’d also beaten him up twice, the last time so bad that Sledge had to be hospitalised. It wasn’t Sledge’s fault that Tama stabbed Ash’s mate. Bloody Tama, he hated the cunt after all the shit he’d caused.

Tyler sped up as he entered the motorway, making Corey feel queasy. He placed a hand on his stomach. He also felt tired. Maybe he should’ve asked to be taken home. He closed his eyes and rested his head against on the window, quickly drifting off to sleep.

 Tyler tapped his leg. “We’re here, sleepy-head.”

Yawning, Corey opened his eyes and glanced at the clock-radio, surprised he’d slept for twenty minutes. He lowered his head and looked out the car window, his eyes widening at the site of Tyler’s pad. Street lamps lit up the Mediterranean-styled terraced house, which had a view of the sea, the Auckland Harbour Bridge’s lights colouring the dark waters in different shades of yellow. Shit, it looked like he was in Herne Bay, the most expensive suburb in Auckland. How the hell did Tyler afford to live here?

Corey climbed out of the car. “You’ve got one awesome place,” he said, as Tyler walked around the bonnet.

“Thanks. Um... Can I just do one thing before we go inside?”

Corey ripped his gaze away from the view and turned around, getting a much better one in return. Normally, he didn’t like people getting into his personal space, but right now what he was looking at was definitely worth it. Man, Tyler was a honey. “What didja say?” Corey asked, forgetting the question.

“Whether I can do this.” Tyler grabbed Corey’s face and kissed his lips, the contact taking Corey by surprise. After a few skipped heartbeats, Tyler pulled back, leaving Corey stunned and wanting more.

Tyler smiled. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve been dying to do that ever since I first saw you, cos you have the hottest lips.” He clicked on the car alarm, then headed for the front door, leaving Corey with his mouth hanging open.

Corey touched his lips, shocked at how much it had turned him on.

Tyler glanced back at Corey. “You coming?”

A grin spread across Corey’s face. “Yeah,”
maybe I will after all.

14

Beth

Beth curled up on the single bed in her new room. She didn’t want to be living with her cousin, but it was better than moving back in with her parents. The
I told you so’s
wouldn’t be said out right, but they didn’t have to be, especially since her mother always had a look that spoke volumes.

She started crying, feeling like Ash had ripped her heart in two, keeping one part and giving the other to Dante. But it was all her own fault, she’d betrayed him. Then to hear about what he’d been through as a kid was devastating. No wonder he had looked at her with disgust when she’d asked him to force her to have sex. BUT, she didn’t know! He should’ve told her, then she would’ve been more sensitive towards him.

She wiped her eyes, trying her best to ignore the blaring of the telly coming from the lounge. It sounded like the walls were paper thin. Her phone started ringing by the bed. She grabbed it and looked at the number in surprise. She clicked it on. “I’m so sorry, Dante,” she blurted out before he could say a word.

“Don’t do that!” he yelled.

“What?”

“No, not you, Beth,” he slurred, “Sandra won’t leave me alone.” Female giggling started up, mingling with the techno music in the background.

“Stoppit,” Dante said. “I’m not interested. Jesus, Jesus, oh fuck, no ... oh... Yeah, yeah...” he groaned.

Beth straightened. “What’s happening, Dante?”

“Sandra is rubbing my...” He groaned.

“Dante!”

“Please come get me. My head hurts and I need my meds. I couldn’t find ’em. Jesus, Sandra, stoppit, no, oh, oh...”

“Where are you?” Beth said, jumping up, the thought of someone else touching Dante making her go crazy.

He groaned again, then started breathing heavily. “L-la Rock in the ci-city centre.”

“I’ll be there soon, and tell her to stop touching you.”

“I did, she won’t listen.”

“Then push her away,”
punch her!

“Oh God...” Dante started moaning, then the phone went dead.

Beth yanked on her jeans then grabbed her jacket, purse and keys off the cabinet. She ran out of the room, yelling at her cousin that she was popping out. She closed the front door behind her and jumped into her car, the bumper practically kissing the front of the flat.

Since Josie lived in Manukau, Beth was on the Southern Motorway within five minutes, and heading towards the city. For a Saturday night the road was fairly light. Up ahead the mauve-coloured glow of the Sky Tower drew closer, the minutes ticking by and making her more and more anxious. She turned off the motorway and stopped at the intersection, double-checking her iPhone for the address. When the lights turned green, she drove a short distance then took a sharp right into a driveway. She jumped out of the car and pressed the buzzer. When no one answered, she pressed it again, getting more and more agitated. She exhaled in relief when the gates finally opened. She wondered what sort of club it was to have gates and parking, because most were just walk in ones with bouncers.

She jumped back into the car and parked in between a flash convertible and a Maserati. Realising it was an upmarket club, she headed for the door of the two-storey building, wondering whether they would let her in wearing jeans and a blouse. But then again, how the hell did Dante get into a place like this with the type of clothes he wore.

She pressed the buzzer, hoping against hope he was waiting for her near the entrance—and that the Sandra woman had stopped touching him.

The door pulled open, revealing a man with a top hat and not much else, his leather underwear and boots his only other attire. “Good Lord, you look just like Sandra,” he said, his accent sounding Dutch. “Are you her sister?”

“No, I don’t know her. My friend called me to pick him up,” Beth said, not sure where to look, embarrassment taking over. “His name’s Dante Rata. Is he here?”

The man nodded. “Yes, he’s very drunk and rather unhappy over all the attention he’s receiving from the ladies, especially Sandra, which is very unusual, considering it’s why he comes here.”

Beth followed him inside, her eyes almost popping at seeing the man’s rear, his “cheeky” attire nothing more than a leather G-string. She focused on his back, horrified that Dante had gone to a sex club.

She walked through a heavy red curtain and into a small room. On her left, a woman in a see-through bra was serving cocktails, while a few feet away a couple of females where dancing provocatively inside a giant birdcage, though, thank God they had their clothes on. One appeared middle-aged, while the other was younger, maybe in her early twenties. Two men were watching on the outside, their ages matching the women. More couples were seated around the room, giving the impression that at least the place wasn’t a brothel.

Beth followed the host up a small staircase and into a darkened area where... Her eyes shot straight ahead, mortified by the scene on her left. Three women and two men were doing things she didn’t want to know about on a large couch. She thought
she
was kinky, but she wasn’t even in the same hemisphere.

She walked down some stairs and into a thin, darkened room, averting her gaze when she spotted a naked woman leaning over someone lying on a rope swing. Her eyes widened when she realised it was Dante. “Don’t touch him!” she yelled.

The woman whipped around. She looked similar to Beth with her long black hair and slim figure, although the woman’s breasts were far too firm to be real.

The man with the top hat tittered. “I warned you, Sandra. You will have to leave the club now.”

Sandra pouted. “But, he said yes.”

“I heard him say
no
only a few minutes ago, and look, he’s passed out.”

“But he never turns me down. And why would he come if he didn’t want sex?”

“It doesn’t matter, you know the rules. No touching without consent.”

“Who’s she?” Sandra indicated at Beth angrily.

“His friend,” the man said.

Sandra gave Beth a once over. “You look like me.” She snatched up her clothes and pushed past Beth, heading into the bathroom.

Wanting to scream and yell at Dante, Beth went over and tugged up his pants.

He opened his eyes and smiled at her. “I love my Bethy-babe.”

“If you did you wouldn’t have come here.” She zipped him up, then pulled down his shirt. “C’mon, let’s go,” she said, trying to pull him out of the swing.

He mumbled something in what she assumed was Croatian, then got to his feet, almost making her topple over as he swung an arm around her shoulders.

“That Sandra woman’s horrible, don’t go near her again,” Beth said, helping him up the stairs.

“I don’t want her, I want you, but I can’t get what I want.” He pushed away from her and wobbled past the people writhing on the couch.

Afraid he was going to topple down the next flight of stairs, Beth grabbed him. She helped him one step at a time, wishing she could say he could have her, but she knew he wouldn’t remember anything the next day, plus she wasn’t sure if he meant it, especially with what had happened at the hospital.

Beth nodded her thanks at the host as they neared the exit, then, with more difficulty than normal due to his drunken state, she steered Dante across the small parking lot. She unlocked the car and bundled him inside, then got into the driver’s seat and backed out. After a thirty-minute drive she turned into her driveway, parking outside her cousin’s flat. She hopped out and ran around to Dante’s side of the car, prodding him awake.

He mumbled, “Sleepy.”

“We’re home, well, my new home anyway.”

He opened his eyes, allowing her to help him out. She locked the car then steered him up the front steps and inside.

Beth’s cousin glanced up from the couch, Josie’s bored gaze instantly turning to interest. “That’s Dante Rata,” she squealed, jolting Dante.

“He’s drunk, Josie,” Beth said, wishing her cousin had gone to bed so she could’ve snuck him in. Ever since Josie saw the nude text of Dante, her cousin had pestered her to meet him, something that Beth had managed to avoid up until now.

Josie ran around the wicker couch to Dante. She was shaking like she was meeting a famous celebrity, her excitement palpable. “Hi, Dante.”

He smiled at her sleepily. “You look like Bethy-babe.”

Josie giggled. “He called me babe.”

Beth exhaled loudly. “He needs to sleep.”

“He can have my room,” Josie said.

“Dream on,” Beth snapped. “He’s sleeping in mine.”

Josie expression soured. “Goin’ between brothers, that’s low.”

“It’s not like that; Dante always calls me to pick him up when he’s drunk. And there are only two rooms, and I know what you’re like.”