that made him react that way. The eerie raking sensation down his spine popped back into his head. That put him on high alert for whatever might come next.
Seated several seats over, Peyton took a breather. He’d gotten Tia so worked up she looked as if she’d been running a marathon race. Peyton glanced at his friend and was stoked by the considerable progress they were making with their dates. He coasted into the seat next to Sage.
"Hey, man let's get out of here," whispered Peyton.
"But the movie's not--"
"Screw the movie. Let's go."
Sage and Raven strolled out of the theater holding hands. Judging from the way Peyton dragged Tia out, you would have thought the building was on fire.
The four of them walked up to a late model SUV in the parking lot. Sage pulled out his keys and unlocked the doors.
"This is your ride? Your folks got it like that, huh?" Raven gushed.
"Not really. They work hard -- appreciate nice things," said Sage.
"I do, too -- appreciate nice things, that is, but I'm not feeling the working hard part," Raven purred.
"I don’t know about that. You're working mighty hard on me," Sage joked.
"Oh, I'm just getting started, baby. You’ll see," Raven promised, conjuring a smile wicked enough to turn Satan green with envy.
Chapter 4
Sage's bedroom had a hip, urban flavor to it, lots of chrome, blonde wood, straight edges. A few posters and modern artwork adorned the walls. A generous dash of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder was evident, too. Just as it had been when he was eleven years old. Hell, maybe even more so.
There was a place for everything; perfectly lined shelves, neat decorative bins, carefully lidded containers, and you’d better believe everything was in its place. Sage had learned early to take control wherever he could get it.
He leaned against his dresser, watching Raven with a curious expression on his face. She buzzed around the room like some kind of tweaker, only she was hopped up on nervous energy, not street drugs. Raven inspected his bookcase. She ran a curious finger along various titles.
"I like to read, too. This is one of my favorites,” she said, picking up a thick paperback.
From there, a framed collage of family pictures caught her eye. She turned her attention to them, admiring each photo individually. She giggled at one in particular. It was a larger version of the same picture a grieving boy had slipped into a girl’s casket six years earlier. Sage used to be that boy. Almost a man now, he was trying desperately to keep his past from making a quick and satisfying meal out of his present.
Watching Raven focus on the picture made Sage’s heart race. He took several deep breaths to calm his pulse and perked his ears up in case he needed to dodge a certain disembodied voice attempting to needle its way into his head. He pulled his shoulders in a little, too, anticipating the touch of invisible, yet painfully frigid fingertips.
Mostly Sage willed himself to stay in the moment, not to fall prey to the ominous presence that always seemed to worm its way into most of his intimate moments with girls.
While Sage wrestled with his private demon, Raven moved to another photo and busted out laughing. The picture captured Sage and Peyton costumed for Halloween--as pirates. They sported rough looking clothes, fake beards, and matching snaggletoothed grins. Raven tapped the frame’s glass. She lifted the picture from the wall for a better look.
"Is that Peyton? Wow...you and your boy have been kicking it for a while, huh?"
Sage stood behind her. He looked at the picture with hooded eyes --like he was shielding himself from something.
"Yeah, you could say we've seen some stuff." He smiled, but it was tinged with cold melancholy. Raven felt it. She crossed her arms against the sudden chill he’d ushered into the room. "We actually got into a fight
Seated several seats over, Peyton took a breather. He’d gotten Tia so worked up she looked as if she’d been running a marathon race. Peyton glanced at his friend and was stoked by the considerable progress they were making with their dates. He coasted into the seat next to Sage.
"Hey, man let's get out of here," whispered Peyton.
"But the movie's not--"
"Screw the movie. Let's go."
Sage and Raven strolled out of the theater holding hands. Judging from the way Peyton dragged Tia out, you would have thought the building was on fire.
The four of them walked up to a late model SUV in the parking lot. Sage pulled out his keys and unlocked the doors.
"This is your ride? Your folks got it like that, huh?" Raven gushed.
"Not really. They work hard -- appreciate nice things," said Sage.
"I do, too -- appreciate nice things, that is, but I'm not feeling the working hard part," Raven purred.
"I don’t know about that. You're working mighty hard on me," Sage joked.
"Oh, I'm just getting started, baby. You’ll see," Raven promised, conjuring a smile wicked enough to turn Satan green with envy.
Chapter 4
Sage's bedroom had a hip, urban flavor to it, lots of chrome, blonde wood, straight edges. A few posters and modern artwork adorned the walls. A generous dash of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder was evident, too. Just as it had been when he was eleven years old. Hell, maybe even more so.
There was a place for everything; perfectly lined shelves, neat decorative bins, carefully lidded containers, and you’d better believe everything was in its place. Sage had learned early to take control wherever he could get it.
He leaned against his dresser, watching Raven with a curious expression on his face. She buzzed around the room like some kind of tweaker, only she was hopped up on nervous energy, not street drugs. Raven inspected his bookcase. She ran a curious finger along various titles.
"I like to read, too. This is one of my favorites,” she said, picking up a thick paperback.
From there, a framed collage of family pictures caught her eye. She turned her attention to them, admiring each photo individually. She giggled at one in particular. It was a larger version of the same picture a grieving boy had slipped into a girl’s casket six years earlier. Sage used to be that boy. Almost a man now, he was trying desperately to keep his past from making a quick and satisfying meal out of his present.
Watching Raven focus on the picture made Sage’s heart race. He took several deep breaths to calm his pulse and perked his ears up in case he needed to dodge a certain disembodied voice attempting to needle its way into his head. He pulled his shoulders in a little, too, anticipating the touch of invisible, yet painfully frigid fingertips.
Mostly Sage willed himself to stay in the moment, not to fall prey to the ominous presence that always seemed to worm its way into most of his intimate moments with girls.
While Sage wrestled with his private demon, Raven moved to another photo and busted out laughing. The picture captured Sage and Peyton costumed for Halloween--as pirates. They sported rough looking clothes, fake beards, and matching snaggletoothed grins. Raven tapped the frame’s glass. She lifted the picture from the wall for a better look.
"Is that Peyton? Wow...you and your boy have been kicking it for a while, huh?"
Sage stood behind her. He looked at the picture with hooded eyes --like he was shielding himself from something.
"Yeah, you could say we've seen some stuff." He smiled, but it was tinged with cold melancholy. Raven felt it. She crossed her arms against the sudden chill he’d ushered into the room. "We actually got into a fight
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