Page 88 of Raine
If I can’t sleep, I may as well do something productive. Taking a sip of my tea, I place the mug down and start reading. I read a couple of passages, my eyes getting heavier by the second, but just as I’m about to call it a night, they snap wide at the words on the page in front of me.
“No, no, no,” I chant, hoping what I’m reading isn’t right, isn’t true. “Fuck!” I yell, dropping the diary like it’s burning a hole through my hands. My stomach dips, and I swallow the saliva pooling in my mouth, the disgust churning like it’s about to eviscerate me. Tears cascade down my cheeks, and I hiccup through the truth of it all, through the pain in my mother’s words and the agony she felt. The injustice of it all.
Gabe rushes out, gun in hand and eyes frantic. When they land on me, he lowers it and his features soften, but I see the concern reflecting back at me when he tracks my tears.
“We need to go home.”
“Right now?”
“Yes, right now,” I demand, wiping the tears from my face and standing up. The diary hits the floor with a thud, causing me to wince.
Gabe’s eyes track it, and he raises an eyebrow. “What did you read?”
“I can’t tell you yet. I need to tell my brothers first. Please, Gabe, we need to go,” I plead, holding my hand over my stomach.
“Brothers?”
“Well, not biological, but my brothers of the Tartarus Mafia,” my voice catching and hitching at the end.
He moves forward and places his hand on my shoulders. “Are you ok?”
“I will be. Can we go?”
“Pack your things; I’ll drive.”
I do as he says, my thoughts spiraling and my body revolting over the words spearing through my skull. I send Sandra a quick message advising her of a family emergency while Gabe loads the car with our belongings.
When I slide into my car, Gabe in the driver’s side, he places a hand over my wringing pair in my lap that are over my mother’s diary.
“Whatever it is, I’m here, Raine. Now let’s get you home.”
We pull out of the driveway, and I watch the bungalow with longing until I can’t see it anymore, a feeling of bereft filtering through me as we drive away.
My mind is like a fucked-up circus playing havoc inside, and I know once I disclose what I’ve read in my mother’s diary that it’s going to rock the very foundation we thought was solidified underneath us. I just hope it doesn’t break us.
Chapter28
Raine
Gabe drove through the night even though I offered to drive. I didn’t sleep a wink, too sick with what I’d discovered and the possibilities of what it might mean for us all. When we enter Dana Point, I flick a group message to the boys and tell them it’s urgent and to meet me at Justyce’s in twenty minutes.
We drive to Gabe’s in silence. He doesn’t push me to open up and tell him what has me so spooked. He runs his fingers in small circles around my thigh, placating and somehow soothing me with the small gesture.
When we pull into his driveway and he puts the car in park, he turns to me and offers me a small smile, placing his hands over mine as he does.
“You know I’m here for you, right? I’m not going anywhere, and I meant what I said to you last night. I want us to try this thing out between us. We could be good for each other, Raine; you just need to let me in.”
With that, he reaches over and plants a soft kiss on my face, one of his hands coming up and massaging the back of my neck as he does. When he pulls away, a coldness settles inside of me and I have the urge to grab him and feel his lips on mine once more, to feel the heat, comfort, need and acceptance he offers in his touch.
“I’ll speak with you soon, Sweet Girl. Don’t forget to message me; we don’t want a repeat of last time, now do we?” He teases lightly, and I can’t stop the smile from breaching my features.
I shrug my shoulders in answer and he graces me with a chuckle, his head falling back, and the sound glides over my body producing a heady balm.
“Bad girl,” he tsks, before letting go of my hand, reaching over to the backseat to grab his bag and opening the door.
He gets out, closes it and takes one last look at me before he turns and walks up the long driveway to his ostentatious three-story mansion. He runs his hand along the manicured hedges as he does, and I can see the tension in his shoulders through his white t-shirt as he does. It makes me want to abort this conversation with the boys and race after him and help alleviate the tension, straddle his back and knead the rigidness from his body.
But I can’t do that. I have an obligation to my brothers, and the very thought of disclosing what I’ve found sends bile traveling up my esophagus. I swallow the bitter liquid down and rub my stomach a couple times in hopes of keeping it down before jumping over the center console and putting the car in reverse.
