Chapter 54
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
The second Raven runs, I want to chase her. And for once, instead of overthinking everything, I do.
I get up, running after Raven, praying there’s nothing out of place in my house.
I catch her right before she slams the door to the guest room.
“Get away.” She sounds scared.
“Raven, I—“
“I said not right now. What the hell do you not understand about that?” The high pitch of her voice makes me want to fight the thing that scared her. Make her feel better.
“Are you okay? What happened?”
I hear Raven suck in a breath. Then another, and another, until her breathing has slowed. Finally, when she talks, it’s clinical and detached. “Thanks for your help, but I don’t need you anymore.”
“For my… help?”
“Yes, Gage. Now get out of the door before I shut it.”
The game. She’s talking about the game.
And yet, I know it was more than just the game. Or if it wasn’t, it could be more. I’ve seen glimpses of the strong, funny, sassy woman she works so hard to hide.
“Move, Gage.” Raven’s hands are on me, and she shoves me back.
I don’t want to get out of the doorway. I want to fight for her, for this, tooth and nail.
Then, Raven slams the door in my face.
Over the next few days, Raven is distant despite my best efforts at communication.
She only appears to get food, go to the bank with me, and let Buddy out.
Axel’s distant too, although he can go fuck himself.
It’s a miracle I don’t kill him. I tell myself I won’t because I don’t want to go to prison. Who would be here for Raven?
I try to get Raven to talk to me, but she refuses. It’s like a door has closed, and the person I’m talking to isn’t Raven; it’s some disconnected robot.
While the clock ticks endlessly in the hallway and I re-wash the same dishes, I’m reminded of all the times I should have fought for something and didn’t. I never fought when Mom was being abused. Not really. I just said a few things here and there. I never fought for her.
I never fought to be more outgoing like Axel. I just slid into self-pity, wondering why people didn’t like me.
I never fought when Jess left. In fact, I let her. I never called her again. I didn’t even fight for my client who backed out. I just… took it.
Why the hell didn’t I fight?
I throw the bowl I’ve washed three times back into the sink. It clatters around, that goddamn crack still stained from Buddy’s food.
I’m done not getting what I want and having an angry pity party over it. Raven is what I want. She’s hurt, afraid, and so very complex, and it’s gonna take a hell of a lot of work, but I’m going to get her.
But I have to be smart about it. She can’t know how much I want her, or she’ll treat me the same way she does Axel.
She comes down later that day for the lunch I’ve cooked up.
I made chili and cornbread with extra beans and all kinds of sugar in the bread.
I want her to get as many calories in every bite as she can.
It brings me a special kind of pleasure knowing she’s eating the food I’ve provided and that she’s no longer hungry.
After Raven has settled in and started eating, I mention offhand that Mom’s Halloween party is tomorrow. I tell her that she doesn’t have to go, but it would be nice to have her to help get me there.
And in her dry, lifeless way, she agrees.
I hold myself back from celebrating.
“We’ll have to get costumes.”
“What?” For a second, there’s a flicker of something in Raven’s voice. It’s anger, but it’s still life.
I shrug. “Mom’s super big on costumes. It’s kinda like our thing.”
Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a bit. Mom is big on costumes, but I’ve refused to dress up since I was eighteen. But costume shopping means more time with Raven, specifically without Axel.
When we finish eating, I grab the car keys. I hear a huff, but Raven follows.
“You’ll have to pay me double for this,” she mutters as she brushes past me and out the front door.
I have Raven take us to the only Halloween store in town—it’s the one that always pops up this season in the empty warehouse that was once a craft store and, before that, a department store.
When we get in, the place smells industrial, with a hint of polyester and plastic.
I have Raven show me to the adult section, and I’m super tempted to reach out and grab her elbow.
Not because I can’t see her fuzzy form, but because I want an excuse to connect with her. But I also don’t want to scare her.
We walk for a bit, then Raven stops abruptly, and I almost bump into her. “What are you looking for?”
“I don’t know.” I pretend to look at the aisle of outfits. “Knight costume.”
She mutters something that I don’t catch. Then, she pushes an outfit into my hands.
“What is it?”
“Knight costume.”
I feel around, expecting to feel hard plastic armor. I just feel a lot of fabric and… tulle? I bring it up to my face, and the costume is pink.
Oh. Oh? So she wants to be like that.
But I’m not mad. If anything, it makes me excited. Raven’s still there, even under her unaffected exterior.
“What are you going to wear?” I ask.
“Me? Nothing?”
“Nah, if I’m dressing up, you have to also.”
“Hard pass.”
“Fine, I’ll pick for you.”
“You can suck my dick.”
The way she says it, I picture her giving a sweet smile.
I snort, running my hand along the selection, feeling plastic hangers, hard sequins, rough tulle, and my favorite—silk.
I can’t help but think it feels like the inside of Raven’s pussy.
Little does Raven know that if she had a dick, I’d drop to my knees right now and suck it till she begged me to stop.
Up close, I can see colors. I find something black with what I think are wings, if I’m feeling the feathers correctly.
“Here! You can be a Raven.” I hand the costume out.
There’s a pause. “That’s a demon.”
I frown. “Right? You can be Raven. ‘Cause only a demon would give her blind team member a princess costume and say it’s a knight costume.”
There’s a snort, and it brings me more joy than I’ve had in the last few days. Suddenly, the costume is being yanked from my hands, and I stifle a smile.
“You’re kind of an asshole,” I tell her.
“Likewise.”
But the tension falls away as we shop. She fights with me a little more about the costume, but finally gives in when I tell her I’ll pay her enough for a hundred costumes. She refuses to tell me what costume she picks, although I know she grabs something.
I walk away feeling lighter than I have in days.