Chapter 9
“I’ll do it, Mom.” Raven attempted to take the pound cake.
Her mother shook her head and sidestepped her. “No, honey, I’ve got it.”
“You know there’s nothing wrong with accepting help every so often.”
“I do know that.” Her mother set the cake on the kitchen counter. “Exactly why I live here.”
Raven leaned her hip against the counter. “But you also live here because you enjoy it, don’t you?”
“Do I enjoy having people make my meals and clean my apartment? Yes. Do I like the daily reminder that I’m slowly losing my mind? Not so much.”
Her stomach dropped. “Mom—”
“It’s okay, honey. I’ve accepted what’s happening to me. Admitting it out loud is actually therapeutic.”
God, her mother was amazing. And so incredibly strong.
Her mom handed her a piece of cake.
Raven frowned at the butter knife sitting beside the slice.
She waited for her mother to leave the room and sit on the couch before swapping the knife for a fork. It was the little things that really upset Raven. Little things that would keep getting worse.
“Dad said you had a bad morning the other day,” Raven started gently as she joined her mother on the couch.
“I don’t remember much about it. I never do. It’s like this gray fog. But your father is so good to me.”
“He’s a good man.”
A spark lit her mother’s eyes. “What about you and Connor?”
So her mother forgot who she was some days, but she didn’t forget Connor?
Raven stuck her fork into the cake. “There’s not much to tell. He’s just a friend.” A friend who knew she was homeless. A friend who’d also been sitting in front of the community center every night for the last week. And if it wasn’t him, it was one of his teammates, which was absolutely his doing.
Her mother eyed her. “Are you ready, honey?”
“For what?”
“To move on from Xander.”
His name made the fine hairs on her arms stand on end, but not in a good way. “I don’t know. I do know that I’ll be okay if I never see him again.”
Her mother tilted her head. “I wish you would tell me the full story between you two.”
“I ha—”
“Don’t. I don’t want lies to sit between us. I know whatever happened must be bad if you don’t think you can tell me. You think I can’t handle it. But I can. And I hope one day you’ll trust me with the truth.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. Once upon a time, she’d told her mother everything. That was before her diagnosis. Before her mind had become so fragile.
They spent the next hour chatting before her dad got back from his physical therapy session. She was just leaving when her mother stopped her. “Wait. I forgot, this came for you.”
Raven frowned at the large envelope. She turned it over. No return address.
A sick feeling immediately churned in her belly. “Why would it come here?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe it’s someone local who knows we’re here?” Her mother patted her arm. “Drive safe, honey.”
She nodded before moving out to her car. The sun was just starting to set. She was halfway across the parking lot when something sounded to her right. The clatter of keys dropping?
She stopped and looked in that direction. There were a handful of parked cars, but as far as she could see, no one was around.
Air skittered from her chest, and she started walking again, faster this time, like she was trying to outrun a shadow.
The second she reached her car, she slid behind the wheel and locked the doors.
You’re safe, Raven. Just breathe.
It didn’t help that she’d barely been sleeping. And when she did sleep, it was riddled with nightmares. Nightmares that had her body jerking awake. Nightmares that had rolled her off the narrow couch more than once.
She looked at the envelope in her hand.
Was it from Xander? Of course it was. There was only one person who’d already sent something for Raven to her parents’ address, and that was him.
She wasn’t opening it. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be good. It would scare her and then he’d win. She couldn’t let him win.
She threw it onto the passenger seat and started her engine, a yawn cracking her jaw. Man, she needed sleep. And not the broken, uncomfortable kind. She needed eight hours of uninterrupted rest.
She was halfway back to the community center when thick smoke billowed from under her hood.
No.
For a few seconds, she let denial keep her driving. Maybe it would pass. Maybe it was nothing.
The smoke thickened, and reality was like a rock in her belly—it wasn’t going anywhere.
No, no, no. This was the last thing she needed.
She pulled over and immediately slammed her fist against the wheel. Tears pressed against her eyes, but she blinked them back. She would not cry.
But God, she wanted to. Everything was a mess and nothing was getting better. Her parents, her living situation, Xander.
She tipped her head back and scrunched her eyes closed…and dammit, a tear escaped.
For a few seconds, she let the hopelessness sit on her chest like a weight, pressing her down. Five more seconds, that was all she gave herself. Then she straightened, refusing to let another moment pass where she felt sorry for herself.
Her gaze caught on her phone, and before she could think better of it, she sent a text to the only person she felt she could ask for help.
Raven: Hey. Are you busy?
Three dots immediately appeared.
Connor: No. What do you need?
Raven: Any chance you could pick me up?
Connor: Where are you?
A wave of relief spilled through her body, making her feel almost lightheaded. She went into her map and sent him a pin of her location.
Connor: You’re on the side of the road?
Raven: My car broke down.
Connor: Coming now. Don’t move.
For some reason, just his kindness made her want to cry again. She’d been trying to do everything on her own for so long, but knowing she had help coming felt good.
She set the phone down and her gaze caught on the envelope.
Screw it. She grabbed it and tore it open.
A bank account statement. From the account she’d closed weeks ago. The account Xander had stolen from.
Xander had sent it to her. To taunt her.
That son of a bitch.
She threw the door open and climbed out, needing air to breathe. To calm the fire inside her. She wanted to scream. To curse so loud that her lungs hurt.
That man—that stupid little man! He’d already destroyed everything. The life she’d thought they’d have together. The future she’d always pictured. He’d taken her love and he’d stomped on it. And he still couldn’t leave her alone.
She grabbed her phone from the car and called him, her attention locked on the dirt in front of her as she paced.
“Hey, Rave.”
She stopped abruptly. “You answered.” She’d called him so many times since he’d stolen her money, and he’d never answered.
“I take it you got my mail.”
That anger returned like a gut punch. “How dare you steal from me? We had a deal. I keep my mouth shut and you leave me the hell alone.”
He laughed, and the sound was equal parts evil and disturbing. “You still don’t get it, do you?”
“Get what?”
“That you have no power. None. Which means this is my game to play, the way I want.”
This was a game to him? “This is my life, you asshole!”
“It stopped being your life a long time ago, Rave.”
“You’re a sick, messed-up bastard. You know that? I hate you!”
“No. I’m someone who doesn’t like people looking into his business.”
She stiffened. “What does that mean?”
“It means, my darling fiancée, that I was leaving you alone…before you hired a PI to dig into my life. Then I got angry. And nothing good comes of it when I’m angry.”
“You’re the reason he’s not answering my calls?”
“I’m the reason for everything.”
The rage was so thick, it sat in her throat like a brick. Blocking her air. Her ability to think or function. Also worry for Tim. His safety.
“I hope you get it now.”
She hesitated. She shouldn’t ask. She did. “Get what?”
“Nothing was ever yours. Not your home. Not your money. Not even that pathetic little life in Deep River. It was, and is, all mine.”
Connor pulled up on the opposite side of the road from Raven’s Subaru, his lights cutting through the almost-dark road ahead.
His gaze immediately narrowed on Raven’s car.
She wasn’t in there. The hell?
Quickly, he scanned the road, then the tree line beyond.
Nothing. Not a single whisper of movement.
Where was she?
He hit her name on his phone.
The call went to voicemail.
Shit.
Quickly, he grabbed the Glock from his middle console and climbed from his truck. He kept the gun tucked to his chest as he jogged across the road and circled the car, his boots quiet as he moved.
He checked the handle of her door. Unlocked.
Inside, he checked the back seat, the trunk, and gave a quick scan beneath the car. Other than smoke coming from the hood, everything looked fine. Even her bag was in the passenger seat.
He straightened and scanned the woods. Wind brushed over his bare arms as he crouched and used the flashlight on his phone to study the dirt.
Prints. Small ones. Raven’s. She went toward the forest. Why?
He slipped into the woods, alert, Glock ready. The prints were faint here, but he kept them in his sight.
Where are you, Raven?
It was only her footprints, so it didn’t look like anyone had taken her or followed.
But why call him for help, then walk into the woods?
Hell, just a month ago, they’d had a serial killer on the loose in this forest. Even though the asshole had been caught, that didn’t make the area safe for a young woman to enter at night on her own.
He slipped between the trees, silent, searching. At some point, he turned the flashlight function off. If there was a threat, he didn’t want to be shining a spotlight on his location.
He wasn’t afraid of the dark. He’d done ops with less vision.
Three more steps and he heard it—the crunch of leaves beneath feet.
He looked right, inched in that direction, curving around a tree…
Then he saw her.
Raven.
She paced the area, hands on her head, chest heaving.
One quick scan told him she was alone.
What the hell was going on?