5. Raine
CHAPTER 5
RAINE
ALL THE WAYS I COULD DIE – ARROWS IN ACTION
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Lost in the vast expanse of blackness that paints my vision, I rely on the ever-present beat of my guide stick. My life has been reduced to that incessant, steering tap, counting out each pace to be committed to memory.
Fourteen steps forward. Five left. Rough cotton bedsheets. Three steps right. The sleek metal of a built-in lamp. Six steps back. Smooth wooden wardrobe doors. More cotton folded neatly inside.
That’s how I know Xander unpacked my shit for me. The obsessively folded piles. He’s as meticulous about his space as he is his carefully chosen words.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
You know, “experts” say that eighty percent of human perception comes from the eyes. Vision. It’s by far the most important sense of the five. When our other senses fail us, our eyes will always protect us from danger.
But who can see the incoming threat, the approaching tiger salivating over its prospective prey, when your eyeballs are two useless lumps of meat in your skull? I may as well be walking around with two empty sockets where my eyes should be.
Fingertips gliding over stacked clothing, I explore the over-washed fabric, searching for signs of my favourite t-shirt. It’s a remnant of a past life. The memory of its charcoal-grey colour and neon band slogan are fuzzy in my memory after five years of nothingness.
There.
I can feel the frayed edges and smattering of holes in the fabric. Unlike some, I couldn’t give a fuck what I look like to others. You quickly stop caring about being judged when your whole existence is ripped away by a doctor in a white coat that you can no longer see.
Tugging the t-shirt over my head, I smooth my mop of hair away from my eyes. I keep it longer on top but shoved back as the strands distract me when they tickle my face. It used to be golden-blonde, brighter than the sun, but I haven’t seen my reflection since I was eighteen.
I’m sure for a lot of people, losing their vision two days after coming of age would be the end of their life. And in some ways, it was for me. But the narcotic abuse I put my body through, and continue to do, started long before a dirty needle stole my entire basis for existence.
“Raine? You up?” A fist thumps on the door.
Quickly yanking a pair of skinny jeans into place, I fumble my way back towards the bedroom door. This room is smaller than the last one I had. It’ll take some time to remember the correct paces to cross the space. I’ve already stubbed my toe twice.
Swiping under my nose, I make sure any remnants of the pill I awkwardly crushed and snorted in the bathroom are gone. I’m sure Lennox has already noticed the shakes and cold sweats.
I’m trying to stretch out the last of my stash for as long as possible. After my morning hit, I feel all warm and tingly. Navigating a pitch-black world is just a little less terrifying when my mind is swimming in happy chemicals.
“Password?” I drone.
There’s a pissed-off exhale.
“How about open the fucking door before I break it down?”
I feel for the handle then swing the door open. “You’re such a morning person, Nox.”
I don’t know what my friend looks like. We shared a particularly awkward encounter early on in our friendship when I requested to run my hands all over him to produce a mental picture of his appearance.
I know he’s big. Burly. Grumpy. And a certified, grade A asshole. Except to me and maybe Xander. Lennox doesn’t care about anyone or anything but those he considers family. It’s his modus operandi.
Thunderous footsteps thumping past me, he barges into my bedroom with a low growl. I slam the door shut behind him then resume fastening my jeans. Though he’s seen me in far less.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Family meeting,” he grumbles. “The almighty one is on his way.”
“Now, now. Don’t go inflating Xander’s ego any more than it already is.”
I hear the creak of expanding bedsprings as Lennox takes a seat. “Hardly.”
“Does this family meeting have something to do with your guava-scented girlfriend?”
“Jesus, Raine. Do you know how weird it is to hear how you categorise us in your head?”
I drop my shoulder against the wall and unleash a smirk. “Alright, Mr…” I take a deep inhale. “Hm. Burning wood? Campfires, maybe? Or is that tobacco? I thought you quit smoking.”
Lennox softly curses. “Trust us to pick the weirdest fucking stray out there to adopt.”
“No backsies. So what’s the deal with guava girl?”
“It’s papaya, genius.”
I feel my eyebrows raise to my hairline as surprise washes over me. “How do you know what kind of body wash she uses? Feels like more than an educated guess.”
“Xander.” His tone is thick with amusement. “And believe me, you don’t want to know how he got that information.”
“Why not?”
“Leave it, Raine.”
It’s not like the infamous Lennox Nash to keep secrets from me. He may be a knucklehead with the world’s shortest fuse, but he’s loyal to a fault and never shies away from telling you exactly what he thinks. If Lennox hates your guts, you’ll damn well know it.
“You get taken to the warden too, then?”
“Nah,” he rumbles. “They just wanted her. Haven’t seen the bitch since.”
Ignoring the way that makes my insides twist uncomfortably, I retrace my careful steps across the room. Tap. Tap. Tap. When my guide stick connects with what I think is the desk, I feel for the chair then spin it around to sit down.
“Technically, you started it.”
“How would you know?”
“My ears work perfectly fine.” I flip him the bird, hoping it’s in the right direction. “You gonna fill me in on this little feud?”
“Little.” He laughs, but it’s bitter and strained. “There’s nothing little about the purgatory that evil cunt left us in. She wanted us dead.”
“It obviously didn’t work.”
“Obviously,” he mutters.
“What happened before I came to Priory Lane?”
Before he can respond, there’s a terse, all-business knock on the door. I hear Lennox move to open it, letting Xander step inside. I’d recognise his trademark spearmint scent from a mile off without needing to see his face.
Our fearless leader has to be the most cold-hearted bastard I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting. Xander is the kind of person to stop next to a car wreck just to take photos rather than call the police.
Last time I touched him, his features felt narrow and bird-like. I bet the iceman looks like a breakable China doll. Pair that with his short, cropped hair, so soft I’d wonder if he bought shares in a hair product company, and he’s the full picture of elegance.
“Where have you been?” Lennox demands angrily.
Xander silently pads into the room, the rustling of paper being unwrapped telling me he’s pulling out a stick of gum. Oh, yes. The iceman is always minty fresh.
“Have you seen her?” Lennox asks. “Xan?”
After a long beat of silence, his flat response comes. “No. Are you sure it’s her?”
“You think I’d forget?” Lennox hurls back. “She kicked me in the fucking ball sack.”
“Doesn’t sound much like her,” Xander challenges coldly, his voice as lifeless as ever. “I think you’re seeing ghosts, Nox.”
“It. Was. Fucking. Her.”
I can just imagine the pair of them glaring daggers at each other right now. For two men who claim to be best friends, family even, they fight just as hard as they love. Though Xander would never admit such a thing. He shows love in far more violent and sadistic ways.
I wave a finger in the air. “If it helps, I witnessed the whole thing. This chick knew who Lennox was and sure didn’t sound happy to see him.”
“You hear her name?” Xander asks in a loud exhale.
“Yeah. Ripley.”
He hesitates before his voice changes, almost like he’s speaking around a smile. “So she’s here, then. And the little toy has found a backbone.”
“Ripley ran off here to hide after she fed us to the wolves!” Lennox explodes.
They lapse into loaded silence, though I can hear someone cracking their knuckles. I like to think I’m a patient guy—I have to be to simply communicate these days—but being left out of non-verbal conversations drives me fucking insane.
“Still waiting for my debriefing.” I clear my throat pointedly.
My bed protests beneath the weight of someone sitting down. By the sounds of the groaning springs, it’s Lennox’s over-muscled frame. I’m surprised the bed supports him.
“Ripley Bennet was a patient in Priory Lane before you arrived.” He speaks in a clipped tone.
“So what? You guys fucked her?”
Xander tsks. “It’s hardly something so juvenile.”
That’s not an outright denial. Seems like Lennox isn’t the only one keeping secrets.
“Is that a yes?” I push.
“Why do you care?” Lennox fires back.
Mouth clicking shut, I shrug it off. “Just want to know what we’re dealing with.”
“Trust me, Raine. Stay far away from Ripley,” Lennox warns. “She’s psycho with a capital P, and not in a cute way.”
She smelled pretty damn cute to me.
“We earned our place in Priory Lane through brute force.” Xander states matter-of-factly. “But the contraband lines that flowed through the institute once belonged to someone else.”
“Someone else?” I repeat. “Her?”
“No.”
The question of who hangs between us. I caught on quick when I arrived in Priory Lane, realising Lennox and Xander were the fucking kingpins of the institute.
“We did what we had to do to survive. Plain and simple,” Lennox justifies. “Not everyone sees it that way.”
Several pieces of the puzzle simultaneously click together. Whatever you wanted—smack, booze, blades—they could get it for you. It’s how we met in the first place.
I was on my fifth stint in rehab after showing up to a scheduled gig too incoherent to remember my own name. The ultimatum came from my manager... Get clean, or my career in the music industry would be over.
After rehab failed, he dangled this golden lifeline instead. That same day, I walked straight into Priory Lane’s arms. It seemed like a sweet deal to escape more rehab and appease the bastard profiting off the one thing that makes my life worth living.
My violin.
Of course, I didn’t get clean. Lennox refused to sell to me at first. But when I made it pretty clear that I’d find a way to get high with or without their help, Xander was the one who caved. At least that way they could keep an eye on me.
“What did you do to her?”
“Ripley?” Lennox scoffs. “Not a damn thing.”
“No, asshole. Her friend. Whoever the hell she accused you of hurting.”
Lennox hesitates before answering. “Absolutely nothing. She did it to herself.”
There’s another beat of awkward silence, broken by the sound of feet shuffling. I can feel the tension skyrocketing between them.
“With enough encouragement,” Xander adds.
“Wow. Fuck.” I knead the back of my neck, which is feeling tighter the more they speak.
“It’s really not how it sounds,” Lennox protests.
“Isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Xander interjects. “It’s exactly how it sounds.”
Processing that, I wish I could say that I’m surprised. Out of us all, I’m generally the most level-headed. Even for a smackhead. These two have a list of issues longer than my arm that not even my penchant for opiates can compete with.
Grumbling to himself, Lennox moves again to begin pacing the room. I know it’s him—his footsteps are heavy and furious. The man has fucking ants in his pants today, this Ripley chick has him all riled up.
“What exactly did she do to you?” I ask carefully. “For you to hate her so much, I mean. I sure as hell get why she hates both of y?—”
“Ripley Bennet must be dealt with.” Xander cuts over me, completely ignoring the question.
Lennox’s pacing halts. “I don’t think it’s that simple.”
“And why not?”
“She said something after she kicked my ass.” Lennox pauses, presumably reaching for the memory. “ You’re in my institute now .”
“What does that mean?” I lift and drop a hand.
Neither responds for a loaded second, filled with enough tension for me to taste its cloying bitterness on the tip of my tongue. Someone huffs, while another taps their feet. It’s weird as fuck to see my friends so unnerved. Well, not see. More like sense.
I’ve taught myself to recognise their emotional cues—even Xander, who barely has any. Spend enough time with someone and their tells become like clockwork. Sighing. Pacing. Huffing. This is the eighty percent of my perception now.
“It means… she thinks she’s untouchable.” Xander makes a small, almost amused noise in the back of his throat.
“So?” Lennox sighs.
“So that will be her downfall.”