Chapter 42
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
RAINE
“ Y ou still goin’ to Dodger’s performance?” my dad asks as I finish sweeping the front of Etch ‘N’ Ink. It’s late, and we’ve already closed our doors for the night. Ever since my breakdown at his house last weekend, he’s been…great. No kid gloves, though I know it’s killing him. Only open, unfiltered conversations. They even went to Everett’s home game yesterday and cheered him on like lifelong fans. If that isn’t a miracle, I don’t know what is. They also agreed to keep Drake’s connection to Shorty a secret. No need to open old wounds, they told me. It was like music to my ears.
As for my phone? We picked it up from McDonnell a few days ago. They weren’t able to connect it to Drake, though I’m not surprised. He received the restraining order the day after the video was sent. I have no idea how he took it, but I haven’t heard from him since, so maybe there’s some silver lining in this after all. I’m not holding my breath, but every passing day without interference from Drake makes me breathe a little easier.
One day at a time .
“Raine.” My dad snaps his fingers a few inches from my nose. “Did you hear me?”
“Yup.” I stop sweeping and look up at him. “I’m still going to Dodger’s performance.”
“Who’s driving you?”
“Dodge,” I answer.
“No Everett?”
“He didn’t know what time he’d be back from the away game, so he parked his truck on campus and will meet me at SeaBird, which is why Dodge is picking me up.” I check the clock on the wall. “He’s probably already on his way since his concert is supposed to start in about thirty minutes.”
Despite my dad handling the news of Drake surprisingly well, I can tell he doesn’t want to leave me alone. He also doesn’t have much choice. He’s already late.
“You can go,” I urge.
“I can wait until he picks you up.”
“Dad,” I tease. “I’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll even wait inside until he gets here. Sound good?”
“Fine,” he grunts, tossing his arm around my shoulders and giving me a peck on the forehead. “Love you, Rainbow.”
“Love you, too. Have fun babysitting!” My mom and dad would’ve definitely been at Dodger’s last concert before leaving for London, but Penny asked them to watch her three kids so she could go on a date with her husband. And if there’s one thing my parents will always cave to, it’s babysitting their grandbabies.
“Yeah, yeah,” my dad grumbles. “Wish your brother luck for me.”
“I will. Love you!”
“See you, Bo.” He lets me go and opens the front door but hesitates. With a pointed look, he adds, “Don’t forget to lock up.”
“I won’t. Promise. ”
“That’s my girl.” He waves, then disappears, leaving me all alone in the middle of a quiet Etch ‘N’ Ink. Once I finish sweeping, I open my notebook and start drawing a new piece. It’s bold and swirly and showcases a lion’s head with a thick, full mane.
My phone buzzes on the counter.
Dodger
Having bike trouble. Gonna be late.
I roll my eyes. My brother’s had an obsession with motorcycles ever since he was a kid. I blame my dad who’s also a motorcycle junkie. Between the two of them? I don’t even want to know how much they’ve spent on all the bells, whistles, and leather that—as my brother puts it—makes a girl’s panties melt.
Gag .
The fact he’s having bike trouble, however, is odd, considering how much time he spends babying the stupid thing. Curious, I type my response.
Me
Everything okay?
Dodger
The usual. Let me see if Judge can swing by and grab you.
Me
Don’t you dare. Judge terrifies me.
Dodger
Judge terrifies everyone.
He isn’t wrong.
Pretty sure I’ve only heard Judge say a dozen words in all the time I’ve known him. The idea of spending even two minutes in the same car with him sounds absolutely miserable.
Me
Seriously, don’t send Judge. I’m good.
Dodger
Fine. I’ll send Pax. Here’s his number: 555.972.2234 He’s on his way.
I check the time on my phone and frown.
Me
I don’t want either of you missing your set.
Dodger
Don’t give a shit about the set if you aren’t here to watch it.
Liar.
Don’t get me wrong. My brother loves when his family is there to support him, but he doesn’t play for me. He plays for him and only him.
Me
Mm-hmm. Sure.
Dodger
Stay put. He’ll be there in five.
I check the time again. His concert is supposed to start in five.
With a huff, I grab my purse and tuck my phone inside, confirming the taser Dylan gave me is still there, too.
Yup. There she is. Good ol’ Bertha.
Finley named it. Even decorated the side with neon puff paint during our girls’ day. Peeking out the window, I search for Paxton’s headlights, but the street is as dark as ever.
After fifteen minutes, I send Pax a text.
Me
Hey, Pax! This is Raine. Dodge said you were picking me up? Any idea how far away you are?
It’s a stupid question. SeaBird is barely three blocks away from Etch ‘N’ Ink. If Pax left when Dodger said he did, he would’ve easily been here by now. Maybe something held him up? Anxiously, I pace the waiting area, rearranging the magazines sprawled on one of the coffee tables. When I check my phone again, another five minutes have passed and the message is still on delivered, never moving to read.
Me
Hey! No biggie if you can’t come grab me. Just let me know.
Silence.
My phone buzzes, but Dodger’s name pops up instead of Pax’s.
Dodger
Tell me he’s there.
Me
Uh…not yet? I tried texting but haven’t heard back yet.
Dodger
Gonna kick his ass if he took a detour. He left twenty minutes ago.
Another message follows right after.
Dodger
That kid is on my last fucking nerve.
My nose scrunches, and I glance out the dark window again, checking for headlights or Pax’s car in case I missed it. The idea of Pax getting in trouble all because he didn’t want to run one of his bandmate’s errands makes me feel…terrible. Besides, I already feel bad enough that my brother, dad, and boyfriend all have the need to babysit me twenty-four-seven. Adding Pax to the mix and having him on the opposite end of Dodger’s wrath, all because he’s super overprotective of his baby sister feels even more wrong. When headlights appear seconds later, I exhale a breath of relief. My phone buzzes in my hand, and Everett’s picture flashes up at me. I bring my cell to my ear as I unlock the front door and open it. Juggling the keys, my cell, and my purse, I start locking up.
“Hey, you,” I answer.
“Hey, we’re almost to LAU.”
Sliding the key into the lock, I twist it and close Etch ‘N’ Ink, keeping my phone pinned between my ear and shoulder. “Perfect. Pax just got here.”
“Pax?”
“Yeah, something was wrong with Dodger’s bike, so he sent Pax to pick me up.” I pull the key from the lock and turn toward Pax’s car, anxious to get out of the freezing cold. With a clatter, my keys slip from my fingers, and my body freezes. “Shit.”
“Raine?” Everett prods.
It isn’t Pax’s car. It’s Drake’s.
“H-he’s here,” I breathe out.
“Storm—”
The creak of hinges cuts him off as Drake pushes the door open, and I swear he’s moving in slow motion, but I’m frozen. I can’t scream. I can’t do anything. Like a deer in the headlights, I simply…stare.
“Raine, talk to me. Talk to me, baby.” Everett sounds so far away. Like his words are spoken underwater, and I’m being dragged under. The cold glass hits my back. I lean into it, my mind reeling, while praying my legs don’t give out .
“Tell your boyfriend good game.” Drake slams his car door shut and slowly rounds the front of the hood toward me. “You’re talking to him, right?”
His voice tugs on my spine, and my feet feel like they’re glued to the concrete beneath my sneakers. He wants Everett to know I’m alone with him. That Everett’s helpless. That I’m helpless. That, despite a stupid piece of paper and a police officer’s promise, Drake’s still here. And he isn’t ready to let me go. If he was, he wouldn’t have sent the video. He wouldn’t be here now. And he sure as shit wouldn’t be prowling closer. One. Step. At a time.
“Storm, the bus just pulled in,” Everett says. “I’ll be right there. I promise, I’ll be right there.”
My ears whoosh, making it hard to focus on his words as I face my stalker head-on. He’s closing in. I want to run, but I’m afraid it’ll only snap Drake’s hunting instincts into overdrive. Part of me wonders if I could convince my body to move in the first place. Instead, I stay still and slowly slip my hand into my purse, blindly reaching for the taser I know is inside.
“Come on, baby.” Drake closes the last bit of distance between us. “Tell him.”
“D-Drake says good game tonight,” I whisper.
“Is he talking to you?” Everett demands through my cell.
“Um…”
“Did he like the video?” Drake challenges. “I know the angle was a little fucked, but I was still impressed. You’ve always been a champ at deep-throating.” He lifts his hand and drags it along the side of my face. “Glad he could experience it once, so he’ll know what he’s missing.”
“We’re almost there.” Everett takes a deep breath. “I’m almost there, Storm.”
“Did he like the added audio?” Drake prods. “I took it from our video. So fucking good, baby. You know how to take me so fucking good. I was almost disappointed I had to film it from outside the cabin.”
Bile floods my mouth and coats my throat, making me want to gag as I glare back at him. “H-how did you?—”
“I put an AirTag on your boyfriend’s car after we jumped him at the gas station. Why do you think I let him walk away in the first place?” His mouth lifts into a sneer, and my blood runs cold, leaving me shivering in the icy darkness. “You need to hang up the phone now, baby.” Drake’s friendliness from moments ago is now laced with a heavy dose of annoyance. Like I’m inconveniencing him or some shit by continuing my call with Everett. Covering my hand with his own, he lowers my arm, slips my cell from my fingers, and tucks it in his back pocket.
“There. That’s better, isn’t it?” he notes. “Wanna tell me why some dipshit handed me a restraining order last week?”
“Drake,” I whisper. It’s a plea.
He grabs my arm and moves even closer. “You promised you’d never leave me, remember?”
“You promised you’d never hit me,” I reply. “Remember?”
His grip squeezes even tighter, and I wince.
“One fuckin’ mistake, and you never let me live it down,” he spits.
I squeeze my eyes shut and ignore the spittle as it hits my cheeks. “W-What do you want, Drake?”
“I’ve missed you.”
My thumb fumbles with the taser’s trigger in my purse as I try to get a good grip on the handle. “How did you find me?”
“Aw, come on. You forget how well I know you. You didn’t think I wouldn’t know you’d go right back to Daddy after quitting Lucian’s shop?” Letting my arm go, he chuckles darkly. “Nepo baby through and through. And since your brother’s been blasting all over his social media about his last performance in his hometown, I figured you’d want to be there with you being all chummy with your family lately..”
Understanding races down my spine. “Have you been following me?”
“It’s a shame what happened to his bike.”
My gaze cuts to his. “You touched his bike?”
“I knew your boy toy would be busy with the away game. Called the shop and asked for your dad’s schedule, figuring he’d be gone, too. The receptionist is awfully chatty,” he adds. “Didn’t take a genius to figure out your brother would offer to give you a ride.” Drake’s fingers are strangely gentle as he tucks my hair behind my ear then tilts my head up, examining the storm cloud behind my ear. “This is new, though.”
Stall him.
I tilt my head a little more, giving him a better view. “Do you like it?”
“I fucking love it.” He drops his hand. “Makes you look hot.”
Gross.
Praying he can’t hear the trembling in my voice, I choke out, “Thanks.”
Come on, Raine. Pull the trigger. Just drop the purse and pull the freaking trigger.
“Gonna need you to get in the car for me, though.” His hand finds my waist, and he urges me like he actually believes I’ll willingly go with him after everything we’ve been through. The man is fucking delusional.
I follow his lead, hoping it’ll distract him as I start to pull the taser out, but before it’s free from my purse, Drake snatches my wrist and yanks my purse away. “What you got here, baby?” He twists my hand around, making me wince. Then, he peeks inside my bag, and I already know what he sees. My only line of defense lying helplessly at the bottom. With a low laugh, he demands, “You really thought you could use this on me?” The sound grates on my senses, but I keep my lips gnashed together.
If he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he continues his assault on my arm, twisting it, making my muscles scream in protest as he yanks it behind my back and drags me into him until we’re chest to chest. Face to face. I wait for the scent of alcohol to burn my nostrils, but it doesn’t. His eyes are dilated, though. Angry and dilated. Is he on something? Those stupid pain pills he’s always loved during the off-season when his precious hockey career isn’t hanging in the balance of a drug test? Does it even matter?
He jerks me harder into him, making my bones rattle with his force. “Big fucking mistake, baby.”
“Drake—”
“Shut the fuck up.” He lets me go and shoves me toward his parked car. When I nearly lose my footing, the asshole laughs. “You good, baby?” His smile is kind, but his eyes? They ooze with condescension and anticipation. The combination leaves every inch of my skin feeling like it’s painted with sticky tar. “Get in the car.”
I gulp. “I’m sorry, Drake, but I…I can’t do that.”
“Nah, I’m pretty sure you can.” His lifeless eyes scan me up and down. “Either that, or you can deep-throat me right here.”
Terror shoots down my spine, and bile reappears in my throat with a vengeance. So this is what it’s like. To be preyed upon. To be underestimated. Keeping my movements slow, I take a step to the side so it’s easier for me to beeline it away from him.
I’m not sure why he’s still playing this game. He’s stolen my taser and my only line of communication with the outside world. Now he expects me to…play nice? I hold his stare, curious—and terrified—as to whether or not he’s serious. He’s never forced me to do anything sexually. Okay, ma ybe I’m giving him more credit than he deserves. I’ve agreed to things, hoping to keep his inevitable guilt-tripping at bay. I’ve given in when I wasn’t in the mood because it felt easier, and we all know he recorded me without my consent. But physically forcing me to do something I’m not willing to do? This is new territory, and when all I find is hatred staring back at me in those dark brown eyes, I know he isn’t bluffing, and he isn’t afraid to take what he wants. Not when I’ve already pushed him away. Not when I’ve already left him, the same way his mom did by dying. It sounds so strange. Comparing myself to his mom. I almost feel sorry for him. For the life he’s had and the challenges he’s faced. But it doesn’t justify anything he’s done. It doesn’t justify this. This moment. This betrayal. This line.
“Drake, let me go,” I plead.
He shakes his head. “I can’t live without you.”
“You can?—”
“I won’t!” he bellows.
It’s a promise.
A curse.
I bite the inside of my cheek and take a shallow breath as a million potential responses flutter through my mind, but none of them give me the outcome I need to get out of this. To walk away. Instead, I stay quiet and silently beg him with my eyes to let me go. To leave me alone.
“I need you, Raine.” His voice is quieter now but just as unhinged. “I’ll always need you.”
Always.
Resignation settles deep in my bones, and I slowly take another step sideways, when his expression twists with rage. He lunges forward and snatches my arm, dragging me further away from the front door.
Instead of fighting him, I move in the same direction, lowering my shoulder and ramming it into his stomach. His arms are rigid around my body, and he squeezes. It’s like a boa constrictor around my torso. We fall to the ground. With a thump, the hard surface steals my breath, and he rolls us both over, fumbling with my jeans.
No. No, no, no! This isn’t supposed to happen. Not to me. Not to anyone, but especially not to me. You hear the stories. You hear the statistics. But it’s so easy to brush it aside. To think it can’t happen to you. That it won’t.
Not because you’re special, but because…because it can’t . Because you’re in a safe neighborhood, and you’re smart and?—
Fight, dammit!
Squirming beneath him, I kick and scream, clawing at his bare forearms until his skin cakes beneath my fingernails. He backhands me, his knuckles causing stars to blur my sight as my head snaps to one side.
Fight!
“Help!” The blood-curdling scream sounds like it’s coming from an entirely different person. His hand finds my mouth, and he covers it with his palm while his weight on my chest makes it more and more difficult to breathe.
I’m going to be sick.
Or pass out.
Or both.
Hurried footsteps echo off the pavement as I squirm on the icy ground, attempting to get the asshole off me before I pass out from lack of oxygen. Digging my heels into the sidewalk, I buck up and down, left and right, while clawing at Drake’s fingers against my mouth. In an instant, he’s wrenched off me, and I scramble away on my ass, my adrenaline fueling me. The cold pavement digs into my palms as my vision starts returning, and my mind races to catch up with what’s happening. Everett’s on top of my ex. He’s hitting him over and over again when a pair of arms wrap around me.
“No!” Another blood-curdling scream claws its way up my throat. I twist in the stranger’s hold and gasp when I recognize Griffin. He brings me into his chest, rubbing his hand up and down my back as Everett and Drake go head-to-head. Jab, cross, hook, uppercut. Drake keeps his forearms up, attempting to protect himself from Everett’s fists until he lifts a rock from the ground and slams it against Everett’s temple. Everett’s head swings to the side, and he tumbles to his left, rolling off Drake. Sensing his opening, Drake jumps to his feet, rushes to his car, and climbs inside, peeling out of the parking lot. The world feels like it’s spinning because it all happens so fast.
I scramble across the ground, wrap my arms around Everett’s neck, and sob. Fear. Exhaustion. Adrenaline. Relief. They all battle for the spotlight inside me, leaving me shredded and overwhelmed. So overwhelmed I feel like I can’t breathe. Like Drake’s hands are covering my mouth all over again. Like I can’t get my lungs to work, let alone my legs or arms or even my thoughts. It’s like a cloud hangs over me. Thick with thunder and lightning and rain and hail and?—
“Sh…” The coo vibrates against the shell of my ear as Everett holds me close. “Sh…it’s okay. It’s okay, Stormie.”
But honestly? I’m not so sure.
Brakes squeal seconds later, and I jerk in Everett’s hold, searching the street as if the boogeyman might pop out at any second. Then again, he already has. When I spot a sleek black motorcycle stopping in front of us, it takes me a second to recognize it. When my brother cuts the engine and swings his leg over the side, my brain attempts to piece together what the hell is happening and why he’s here.
He stalks toward me, still cradled in Everett’s arms as we sit on the icy ground, his face twisted with fury. “What the fuck?—”
Everett jumps to his feet and decks my brother in the face. “You told me you’d pick her up!”
“I was going to?—”
Everett swings, but my brother dodges him, so Everett’s busted-up knuckles only meet his forearms instead of Dodger’s face like he intended.
“I had a flat, all right?” Dodger says, defending himself. “Then I sent Pax to come get her, but he showed up alone a few minutes ago. As soon as he did, I came as fast as I could!”
“Not.” Hit. “Fucking.” Hit. “Good enough.” Hit.
The sound of flesh hitting flesh makes me flinch, but I’m too stunned to move.
“He got to her!” Everett booms. “He was fucking waiting for her?—”
“Stop!” Pushing to my feet, I stumble toward them. “Everett, stop!”
Blood trickles from his temple from the rock to the side of his head as he slowly turns to me, letting his balled-up fists fall to his sides. Like the fight has finally seeped out of him. Like the adrenaline has finally pumped through his system. His body sags slightly, and I move toward him, tucking myself against his side.
“Did he touch her?” Dodger demands.
“I’m fine,” I whisper.
My brother’s expression twists. “Where is he?”
“Ran,” Everett answers.
“Fuckin’ pussy.” Dodger’s molars grind. “Did you already call the cops?”
Everett nods. “They’re on their way.”
“Fuck.” Dodger looks around the empty streets and stays quiet, listening for sirens. “Come on, if we hurry, we can get out of here before they arrive. Let’s go.” He starts to move past Everett, but Everett stops him by pressing his hand to my brother’s chest.
“Wait.”
“He’s gonna get away with this if we don’t get out of here and take care of him ourselves.”
“Dodge,” Everett warns.
My brother shakes his head. “You saw how he handled the restraining order?—”
“Trust me,” Everett grits out. “I’m aware the bullshit piece of paper didn’t do a damn thing, but?—”
“Do you know how many stories are like this?” Dodger sneers. “Without enough fucking evidence to actually do anything? It’s gonna turn into a he said, she said contest, and he’s gonna get off scot-free after she’s forced to relive it a hundred fucking times.” He slams his closed fist against his chest. “And that’s if he doesn’t already have an alibi in place. The guy might be an abusive prick, but it’s clear he isn’t stupid. And let’s say the cops do believe her. Do you have any idea how long it’ll take? He could make bail or press charges against you for assault.”
“I was protecting her?—”
“It doesn’t. Fucking. Matter,” Dodger spits until he’s nose to nose with Everett in the dark parking lot. “He’s gonna get away?—”
“It won’t happen. I won’t let it.”
“What will you do? Huh?” Dodger demands. “What are you gonna do, Ev?”
A vein in Everett’s throat pulses as I stare up at him. It’s like he’s made of stone. But I know him better than this. Beneath the calm facade is a fucking hurricane, and it tears me to shreds.
“Ev,” I whisper. Or maybe I don't. Maybe the name never slips past my lips because my brother only barrels on, his upper lip curling in disgust .
“Are you gonna man up and protect my sister, or do I need to do the honors?” he growls.
The muscles in Everett’s hands flex as he glares at my brother. They’re still nose to nose. Chest to chest. “Says the guy failed to pick her up.”
“My bike had a fucking flat,” Dodger spits back at him. “And Pax was supposed to?—”
Pushing myself between them again, I face my older brother and rise onto my tiptoes, trying to close some of the distance between us. “Stay out of this, Dodge.”
He glares down at me. “No.”
“I’m serious,” I push.
“I won’t let?—”
“Do you wanna know why I didn’t tell you about all of this in the first place?” I ask. “Because of this. Because I knew you would be reckless and stupid and wind up sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“You’re my sister!” he yells.
“And you’re unhinged if you honestly believe taking the law into your own hands is a bright idea.”
“Dodge.” Everett’s voice is low. Lethal. And manages to cut through the haze of fury clouding my brother’s judgment.
His focus snaps to Everett and he snarls, “What?”
Everett moves closer and wraps his arms around my shoulders, tugging me into his side as he holds my brother’s stare. “We’ll be in touch.”
There’s something about him. The way he’s looking at my brother. The way he’s looking in general. Almost detached. Deranged. Like whatever restraint he’s used to having has finally snapped, and if he was anyone else, I’d be terrified. “Ev,” I breathe out.
But he doesn’t look down at me. He only holds my brother’s stare and repeats, “We’ll be in touch. ”
“Ev.” I tug on the collar of his bloodied shirt.
Tearing his attention from Dodge, he looks down at me, his expression softening. “Don’t worry, Stormie. I’ll keep you safe. Promise.” He presses his hand to my lower back, and the man I’ve fallen for rises to the surface. “Come on. Let’s get you inside and clean up before the police arrive.”