Page 72 of Raine
I pour a glass of wine and grab some nuts and fruit from the hamper, even though the thought of food makes my stomach turn, then walk out to the porch to listen to the ocean crash along the shore.
Opening the French doors, I push my hip out and place my wine on the small table and take a seat on the swinging seat.
Switching my phone on, I look out at the water while I wait for it to boot up. When the messages begin rolling in, I know it’s up and running.
Reaching for my drink, I take a sip and throw some grapes into my mouth, holding out on the inevitable. I allow myself a few more minutes, closing my eyes and listening to the ocean seagulls caw before unlocking my phone.
There are messages from Justyce, Acheron and Gabe, but nothing from Arrow. I don’t know why I expected him to message, especially after how things ended yesterday. I suppose I hoped he’d still be at least worried about me. Another look down at the messages solidifies that he’s washed his hands of me, and I don’t know how to feel about it.
I should have made more of an effort to correct him about Acheron and me, but for whatever reason I didn’t. Maybe subconsciously I knew this needed to happen — that this would be the only way things would ever be severed between Arrow and myself.
A tear slides down my face, agony and loss weaving together and warping into a hateful web. Angrily, I swipe at the tears and take another sip of wine.
This is my fault; I did this. I made my damn bed, and now I need to lay in the thorny fucker. The sun begins to set, and I decide to leave the messages for tomorrow. They’ve been read, so the boys will know I’m alive.
No doubt they’ve been trying to find me, but I disarmed the tracking app on my phone, knowing I needed time to myself. I’m not dumb; I know they could find me if they wanted. Those men have resources that could unbalance any scale.
Reaching over to the table, I click on the lamp and pull out my mother’s diary.
Dear Diary,
My secrets are safe with you, hidden beneath the floors I walk on. Can you keep a secret? Can I tell you what I can’t tell anyone else?
I told Malcolm everything, well, almost everything, and like I predicted, he wants to whisk me away like the knight in shining armor he is. We fought, lord did we fight and I hate it.
He hasn’t spoken to me in four hours, and it’s killing me. To leave would equal death, and I won’t run from those monsters. No way in hell. I am Winter Voroniva, mafia princess, and I will not give Draconis and Avernus the ammunition they need to remove me from this earth.
It's only been hours, but it feels like an eternity. I need to find my husband, and make this up to him, try to explain why we can’t leave. I just need to grow the balls to divulge this last little dirty number, and he’ll understand what I need to do to. I’m certain of it.
Wish me luck.
Winter <3
I close the diary more lost than when I started the entry. What the hell were they doing back then that she was trying to stop? Is that why they were murdered? Because she knew something they didn’t want her to know.
Goosebumps break out over my flesh, and I know whatever it was, it wasn’t good.
Grabbing the empty glass off the side table, I head inside, making sure to lock up the bungalow before heading to the bedroom. Once I’m in master room, I lay in the soft bed, my mind doing backflips and cartwheels over the what-ifs and whys of what led to my parent’s untimely demise.
Fresh tears fall, and I swipe them away angrily. I’m not used to feeling all of these fucking emotions, but with no drugs running through my veins and my mind clear from their fogginess, I’m forced to endure it.
Snatching one of the many pillows, I curl myself around it and sob into the fluffiness, my body shaking and hurting from the pain and loss of my parents, Arrow and the drugs that have become my best friends.
When I finally stop crying, I reach for my phone and scroll to Arrow’s number. My finger hovers over it, but I don’t call him. Instead, I type out one word — the one word that I’ll say over and over until he forgives me. Sorry.
I don’t expect him to write back, so I scroll and quickly answer Acheron and Justyce, telling them I’m fine and I’ll be back when I’m ready. Acheron calls straight away, but I silence it, reading Justyce’s text instead.
Don’t ever do that again, Raine, and turning your fucking location off did nothing; I already know where you are. I know you’re hurting, but you need to talk to me. Don’t make me come and drag you back here before you’re ready. I’ll call you in a couple of days, and you better answer.
I smile sadly down at the phone. He’s an asshole, but he cares about me, and that helps lessen the ache in my chest. Hesitantly, I open up my chat thread to Arrow, and my heart drops when I see he’s left me on read. Tears burn me behind my eyes, but what did I honestly expect?
I throw my phone across the bed and find myself sobbing into the pillow again, the hurt and affliction poisoning my body more than any drug ever could.
The seagulls cawing draw me from my slumber, and I groan, stretching wide and feeling every ache in my body. It’s only been a couple of days, and the drugs are still calling my name, reminding me of why I need them so damn much. My head hurts, and so does my heart, but I push those feelings away in order to get the day started.
After making myself a cup of tea, I make myself some toast and head outside with my mother’s diary under my arm. I place everything down and sit in the swinging chair, curling up and taking a sip of my tea before forcing a couple of bites of toast, not wanting to eat, but knowing I need to in order to combat this bullshit.
I grab the diary and open up to where I’ve bookmarked and start reading, realizing it was over two months since her last entry.
