Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
EVERETT
S he’s curling in on herself. I can see it. Feel it. The heavy dose of anxiety. The fear. Of her boyfriend. Of the unknown. Of…me?
I glance at her from the corner of my eye and crush the steering wheel with more force as we drive down the highway toward Cedar Springs. The trees whir past us, blurring into different shades of brown and gray. The leaves have long since fallen, and winter’s right around the corner. Fuck, it’s already here, and it’s the only reason I agreed to drive Raine everywhere in the first place. I can’t stop thinking about our earlier conversation.
That isn’t a problem for you? Putting your life on hold for me?
I’ve been putting my dating life on hold long before Raine stumbled into my life. Sure, I’ve had some casual hookups and shit, but anything real has always felt out of place in my life. Family. School. Hockey. A relationship’s never been on my radar because I haven’t had time for it to be on my radar. With everything in my life, I live by one rule. When I’m all-in, I’m all-in. And I’ve never found a girl worth being all-in for. It’s why I’m okay putting off any potential hookups with random girls for the woman beside me. Because right now? Now, I’m all-in to help her escape the shitstorm she’s been tossed into without a life raft. I think it’s why my friends went quiet in the kitchen. Why they looked at me with hesitation. Knowing if I agreed to this, everything else would be put on the back burner until I saw it through, which is what I’m doing. Seeing it through. Even if I’d rather be anywhere else. After seeing the bruises on her face, I’ve been all-in, and I won’t rest until Drake’s out of her life for good.
“Take the next exit,” Raine whispers between gnawing on the edge of her thumb and staring blankly out the passenger window.
Flicking on my blinker, I merge into the far right lane and take the exit. It’s dirtier here. More urban, maybe. Less of a small town like Lockwood Heights. We rarely come up this way. There’s no need. But still, it makes me curious. About the girl beside me. Who she is and where she’s from. The girl’s been nothing but a vault, and I don’t know why.
“Turn left at the light,” she murmurs.
I do as I’m told.
“It’s the gray building,” she adds.
A minute later, I pull into the parking lot, and she directs me around the back. When I find a parking spot near a set of stairs, I cut the engine and wait. Raine’s lips part with a deep breath, and she stares up at the building. But she doesn’t move. Doesn’t reach for the handle to climb out of the car. She merely sits there.
“Do you think he’s home?” I ask. I considered bringing up his whereabouts before we left. Then, I decided he shouldn’t have the power to choose when we swing by to grab her things. It isn’t up to him. It’s up to Raine. Well, and me, but it’s beside the point.
With a soft shake of her head, Raine continues gazing at the building. “He should be in class, but we have a video on our doorbell, so he’ll know we’re here as soon as we approach the front door.” She hesitates and presses her lips together. “Maybe you should stay in the car.”
“Not gonna happen, Raine.”
Tearing her attention from the looming building in front of us, she turns to me. “I don’t want to rock the boat.”
“Not rocking the boat is how you got here in the first place,” I remind her.
Her head falls forward, and she takes a deep breath. “Right.”
Part of me wants to ask if she’s having second thoughts. If she’s wasting my time. If she’s going to go back to him. If she’s really done. The other part?
I bite my tongue and turn toward the driver’s side door, preparing to get this shit over with. “Come on.”
“What if he comes home?” she whispers.
Letting go of the door handle, I face her again. “You really think he’ll do something while I’m here?”
“I think he’s terrified of losing me,” she counters.
“Why?” I grimace. “Don’t get me wrong. You’re beautiful, but there are a lot of fish in the sea, right?”
Her quiet laugh surprises me as she tucks her hair behind her ear. “Normally, I’d agree with you.”
“But?” I challenge.
“But Drake’s been through a lot with me.”
“Like what?”
“Like losing his mom. Like opening up about his dad and the childhood he had. He might put on a strong front or whatever, but I know him better than anyone.” She hesitates. “I think when you’ve experienced a lot with a person, it’s easy to cling to them and convince yourself they’re your life raft, you know? And without them, you can’t stay afloat.”
“Do you believe that?” I ask. “Do you believe you can’t stay afloat without Drake? ”
“I think…” Her brows dip. “I think he’s been dragging me down for a long time, and I thought if I could kick hard enough, if I could…learn to be a better swimmer, we’d be okay, but apparently, I kind of suck.”
With a bark of laughter, I twist the keyring around my forefinger and catch the keys in my palm. “You suck for not being able to keep two heads above water when one’s clearly been nothing but dead weight?” I shake my head. “Raine, you aren’t invincible.”
“Says the guy who’s willingly faking like he’s in a relationship with a girl to protect her from an asshole ex,” she points out. “Why do you do it?”
I shrug. “I owed Reeves a favor.”
“A favor,” she repeats.
“Yeah.”
Her chin lowers slightly, and I swear I can see something click behind her eyes, but I don’t know what it is. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. We should, uh, we should get going.”
I watch as she climbs out of the car and folds her arms, keeping in her body heat as she stares at her feet and walks toward the building. Forcing myself to follow, we make our way up the steps to the second floor, and she digs her keys from her purse. Her hands are trembling. Fuck, her whole body is shaking. It’s barely noticeable, and if I hadn't been paying such close attention to her since picking her up on the side of the road, I doubt I would’ve noticed. But now? Now, I see it. The way he affects her. The way she shuts down. The way I was given a glimpse of the girl she was before dating Drake when we went head-to-head in the kitchen, yet now, she’s nothing but a shell, and it’s all because of him.
As Raine attempts to slide the key into the lock, I look at the camera and lift my chin, well aware Drake will see this. Whether it’s right now, or later when he replays the footage, he’ll know I was here. He’ll know I’m the one Raine called. The one she asked for help. The one who shared his bed with her and took care of her.
Good.
Fuck you, Drake.
When I realize Raine’s struggling with the lock, I look down. Her hands are still shaking. Placing mine on top of hers, I slowly twist the key, and she peeks up at me, her brows pinching into the tiniest of frowns.
Remembering Reeves’ guidance from earlier and his insistence we make our relationship look real, I slip my other hand around Raine’s hourglass waist. Warm. Small. Her stomach tightens against my palm and her breath hitches, but she doesn’t elbow me in the gut like I half-expected, so I’ll call this a win as long as she doesn’t blow our cover.
“What are you doing?” she whispers.
“Breathe.” I lean closer like earlier in the kitchen. “I won’t let him hurt you. Not anymore.”
Surprise hits her pretty green eyes until a glint of awareness follows.
Yeah. She knows he’s watching, too.
“I know you won’t.” She leans into my embrace, forcing her muscles to relax against me. “Thanks for last night.”
“Thanks for trusting me enough to call.”
“Thanks for coming today, too.”
“Thanks for asking me,” I volley back with a smirk, hinting I can play this game all day.
She lets out a breathless laugh. “Thanks for almost making me forget what we’re doing here.”
Twisting her around, I let her back hit the front door and step closer. Her breath hitches again as I press my front to hers, knowing Drake won’t be able to see us anymore. But it’s almost better this way. Let his imagination drive him insane.
“And what are we doing here?” I challenge .
Another breath catches in her throat before she presses her hands to my chest and smiles up at me. “Getting my things, remember?”
“Right.” My smirk widens. “Because you’re leaving your asshole of an ex.”
Her throat tightens with a gulp and I swear I see a flash of fear hit her eyes. It makes my grin falter for an instant until I force it back into place. I hate that I might not be the one to put the fear in her pretty green eyes, but I’m still the one calling Drake an asshole and poking the bear. I’m also the one giving her the opportunity to do the same. She doesn’t get it though. She deserves this moment, no matter how small it is in the scheme of things. The opportunity to take back a sliver of the confidence he beat out of her.
Don’t be afraid of him, I want to tell her, but I keep my mouth shut, knowing Drake can hear us now.
“Yes,” she finally whispers. “I’m finally leaving my asshole of an ex.” Her chest expands on a cleansing breath. “And I’m never coming back.”
Genuine relief and pride fill my chest as I stare down at her. I don’t know Raine. Not really. But I do know that if Finley was in this position, I’d expect her to give two giant middle fingers to her ex as she ended things. While Raine might not be able to break up with Drake face-to-face, she’s stood up to him now, letting him know she’s leaving and never coming back.
Remembering the facade we’re still putting on, I murmur, “That’s my girl,” praying the words don’t sound as forced as they feel as they roll off my tongue. “Now, come on. Let’s grab your things so we can get out of here.” I reach around her waist, turn the key still lodged in the lock, and slowly push the door open while making sure Raine doesn’t lose her footing in the process. The hinges squeak in protest, and Raine turns around, opening it the rest of the way, letting us both inside.
It’s messy.
Not average messy. More like a grown-ass toddler threw a fit without caring about the wreckage, and fuck me, it’s everywhere. Pillows are knocked off the couch. One of the kitchen chairs is on its side. Glass litters the floor, along with a dozen wilted roses and a puddle of water staining the transition from tile to carpet in the small kitchen and family room. A shattered mirror clings to a single nail still pinning it to the wall, and I’m pretty sure if I breathe on it wrong, it’ll clatter to the ground. The clothes and shoes are the biggest mess, though.
Shit is everywhere, and if I had to guess, most of it belongs to Raine.
My attention flicks to her. Molars grinding, she scans the apartment, then marches toward a broken picture frame on the wall. Pieces of paper lie on the ground. She wipes beneath her nose with the arm of her jacket, then bends down and scoops up different items of clothing. Jackets. Shoes. Shirts. Jeans. She’s pissed. She has every right to be. But whatever fear she was drowning in when we walked in here has morphed into something angrier. Something more fierce.
Reaching for the edge of the front door, I close it behind us. “You okay?” I ask quietly.
“This is Drake’s way of being a dick.” She huffs, dropping the collected clothes onto the coffee table, and gathers more scattered items from the kitchen. “He’s probably hoping it’ll give him more time to corner me when I decide to come grab my things. Doesn’t mean he had to rip up my art, though,” she mutters under her breath. “Sonofabitch.”
Striding toward the broken frame, I bend down and pick up the ripped pieces of paper. None of them are much bigger than a coin, but whatever it was, it meant something to her. Like pieces of a puzzle, I’m given a tiny glimpse of the entire drawing. Is it a…dandelion? A bouquet of dandelions? I tilt my head and try to line up a few of the pieces in my palm.
“Leave it,” Raine murmurs behind me. “We should hurry.”
Avoiding the broken glass, I pick up the rest of the pieces and push them into my pocket, kicking my ass into gear. I gather anything looking like it belongs to a girl, adding the pink sweats and matching hoodie to the pile on the coffee table with the various shit Raine already set aside when a bright red thong catches my attention on the back of the worn gray couch. An image of what it would look like on Raine flashes through my mind, and I freeze. The girl’s so guarded, I half-expected her to be a boyshorts-only type of girl. Nothing wrong with boyshorts, mind you. Fuck, a girl like Raine could pull off anything. But a thong? A red thong? My eyes wander to the owner in question and drift back to the scrap of fabric.
“Is there a— oh .” With red cheeks, Raine snags the thong from the top cushion and tucks it into her pocket.
“You good?” I ask.
“You can wait outside.”
“I can help?—”
“I’ve got this. Go.”
Like I’m the plague, she avoids me, keeping a wide berth between us as she heads to the kitchen, clearly dismissing me.
“Nothing wrong with red,” I point out.
Her gaze narrows, and she folds her arms. “Didn’t say there was.”
“Good, because there isn’t.” I snag a black heel from the ground and toss it onto the growing pile of clothes when my attention catches on a neon yellow lacy bra. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for this color, though. ”
Her head pops above the kitchen counter and she follows my gaze. Her nose wrinkles. “You can leave it.”
“Not a fan of yellow?” I ask.
“It was a…” Her lips purse. “ Gift .”
“Got it.” I leave the bra where it is and get back to work, trying to create order in a sea of chaos.
It’s strange. Being here. In her space. Being given a glimpse of who Raine is outside of what she’s told me, which, now that I think about it, is basically nothing. And maybe I should keep it that way. Keep the distance. The walls. After the shit she’s been through, she’s smart to have them. But being here. Seeing the damage and the little things making up the girl I barely know only piques my curiosity.
Like a busy little bee, she buzzes around the room, then disappears down the hall, returning with a well-used Grove University Grizzlies duffle bag. I doubt everything will fit, but it’s a start. Silently, I help her fill it until the zipper threatens to give out if I dare shove anything else inside.
“Is this everything?” I ask.
She lifts a shoulder and scans the apartment. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is.”
“You don’t own any of the furniture?” I prod.
“He can keep it. The sooner I get out of here, the better.”
With a nod, I hook the strap of her duffle bag over my shoulder, pressing my hand to her lower back, ready to get the hell out of dodge.
“I can carry it,” she argues.
“I think you’ve carried enough shit on your own, don’t you think?” I push her toward the door, and by some miracle, she lets me.