Betraying Innocence by Airicka Phoenix

recovered. Do you get what I’m putting out?”
    Yeah, Rafe thought. He got it. Ana French was hot in a way that made a guy hungry to taste, but he knew better than to mess around with a girl whose father wasn’t shy about threatening him with death. It just wasn’t worth the hassle no matter how delicious the girl was.
    “I understand,” he murmured.
    Mr. French straightened, satisfaction brightening his face. “I knew we’d understand each other. Thank you again for what you did today.”
    Rafe nodded once before pivoting on his heels and bounding off the porch into the rain.

Chapter Seven
     
    Ana
     
    “Ana ?” Someone was calling her.
    S he opened her eyes to find herself in bed with sharp slivers of light spiking across the ceiling. She was dry and tucked into the cool folds of her sheets. Had it been a dream? The rain. The voices. It all felt like a foggy blur of a fever induced unreality. “Ana?”
    Ana jumped at the soothing voice, at the comforting hand that landed on her shoulder. She shot upright, eyes franticly searching.
    The hand jerked away.
    “Ana!” The voice became firm.
    Ana blinked, shook her head and turned to find the voice that had kept her from getting lost in the darkness.
    Her mother sat in a seat beside the bed, hair a knotted mess around her tired face. There were dark circles under her gray eyes and lines around her mouth. She wore stained sweats and a t-shirt that must have been her father’s because it said, Real Men Fish. Ana stared, not recognizing the woman watching her as if she were made of glass.
    “Mom?”
    A sad, teary smile curled her mother’s lips. “Hey, welcome back.”
    Ana shook her head, too afraid to blink in case it all went away. “What happened? Where am I?”
    The smile vanished, concern darkened her eyes. “You don’t remember?”
    She pressed her fingertips into her temples and rubbed. “I … I remember…” What? Everything was such a mess, like someone had taken her memories and tossed them into a blender.
    “Hey .” Mom touched her arm lightly. “Don’t force it. Just relax. Do you want some water? Are you hungry?”
    Ana ran a dry tongue over dry, cracked lips. “Water, please?”
    Her mom rose out of the chair and hurried to the door without ever taking her eyes off Ana. She tilted her body so she was half in and half out of the room. “Richard! She’s awake! Bring up some water.”
    No sooner had her mother returned to her seat than her father barged into the room, sloshing water everywhere. Most of the glass was empty by the time it reached Ana. She took a long, greedy gulp. Someone’s hands were there to take the glass from her when she finished. The bed dipped and her father was there, framing her face and peering intensely into her eyes.
    He looked as tired and worn out as her mother , with a week old beard and a haggard expression. She had never seen either of her parents look so … at a loss for control.
    “How are you feeling?”
    “Tired,” she whispered honestly.
    A look of panic and worry passed between her parents.
    “You’ve been sleeping for almost a week,” her mother said quietly.
    Ana shook her head slowly. “I feel like I haven’t slept at all.”
    More concerned exchanges.
    “What happened, Ana?” her father demanded, hands falling away from her face to grip her shoulders.
    “I don’t know.”
    “Maybe we should take her to see someone,” her mom murmured, already on her feet, hands wringing in front of her.
    “No!” Ana protested. “No doctors. Please! I hate hospitals.”
    Her father’s big, comforting hands stroked her hair, her face, arms , petting her like she was a scared and injured animal. “It’s all right. No hospitals, okay? Just … we’ll figure this out. Don’t worry. Everything will be okay.”
    “What happened?” she asked again, darting glances between her parents.
    “We should tell her,” Dad said, turning to her mother.
    Her mother shook her head, looking anxious. “It