Page 89 of Raine
I glance up as I start reversing out to see Gabe standing at the top of his white marble stairs with an unreadable expression on his face and his hands hanging at his sides.
Not having time to discern what he’s thinking and feeling, I touch down on the pedal a little harder and get the hell out of there.
The short drive to Justyce’s isn’t enough time to work through my thoughts and emotions — the sickness that’s swarming around in my belly like a fucking whirlpool while my head and heart thump like pagan drums are banging around.
Entering the gates into our street, I drive a few hundred meters until I reach Justyce’s, where I find his gate already open for me. I park my car, hit the garage fob he gave me, and the door opens.
Taking a few deep breaths, I try to assuage myself and calm my racing heart, irrational thoughts and the bile threatening to come back up once more. When I feel a little more under control, I exit my car and walk through the garage entrance, hitting the button on the side to close it once I’m in.
I walk through Justyce’s house on autopilot with my hands shaking and sweaty; my throat closed up and flooded with the taste of bile and concrete. When I reach the entertainment room, I place the diary behind my back, take a deep breath, and open the door.
Three sets of eyes track me, each with a shade of worry and confusion. I linger on Arrow’s for a beat longer, the selfish and inappropriate side of me grateful to see he still cares for me, and it reminds me how much I’ve missed him as well.
Something passes through his eyes and he breaks the contact, reaching for his glass of whiskey instead. Ice clatters around us, breaking the silence and when my eyes land back on Justyce and then Acheron, I break at the seams, an ugly sob echoing around us.
Justyce is the first to my side, followed by Acheron. I hear Arrow curse under his breath, mumbling something I can’t discern, but it’s obscured further by Justyce and Acheron’s voices.
“What happened?” they both demand at the same time, pausing to look at each other, then back to me.
Justyce’s arms are crossed over his chest, and Acheron’s hands are fists beside his thighs. My eyes find Acheron’s lapis pair, and fresh tears flow down my face.
His eyes go wide, and a sense of fear trickles through me as I see the understanding in his eyes. There is no way for him to know, but he knows whatever I’m about to divulge is going to upset the very foundation we all walk over.
“Spill it, Raine,” Justyce demands, and I hiccup through a sob.
Bringing my hand from behind my back, I show them the leather-bound book, and all their faces screw up. “What’s that?” Arrow asks, his voice sounding rough, and it makes me wonder briefly what he’s been up to.
Finding his cognac stare, I offer, “It’s a diary.”
“Yeah, ok, Einstein, who’s?” Acheron sasses, and I almost roll my eyes at him but the moment isn’t right for it, none of this is right.
“It was Mama’s,” I whisper, and I see Arrow lurch up from his seat from the corner of my peripheral.
The three of them stand in front of me, resembling something close to gargoyles. “What have you found, Rainey?” Justyce tries, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
With shaky hands, I clutch the diary to my chest, the tears falling and dripping to the floor. “Do you want me to read it, or would you like to read it for yourself?”
Justyce raises an eyebrow and looks between Arrow and Acheron before coming back to me. “How about you read it? Only if you can, Raine. Saves us from having to read individually.”
I nod my head and say, “I guess you all should take a seat then.”
They hesitate, their eyes pinballing from me to each other, before they make the decision and move to the lounges. I stay standing, but I rest my back against the wall behind me and open the book.
With one last stuttering gaze their way, I start to read.
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?
Oh my god, I - I just can’t. There is no other way to say this, so I’m just going to say it… I’m pregnant. This should be the happiest moment in my life, in our lives, yet my happiness is stunted and tainted by the truth of conception, and it makes me sick to my stomach.
I’m rubbing my free hand around the small bulge in my belly as I write this, and given that it’s been almost three months to the day since I last confided in you, I’m sure anyone could do the math.
I’m almost three months along, and I know with all my heart I’m carrying a little girl, I can feel it. Malcolm knows, of course and he’s sworn it doesn’t change anything, but it does. I see and feel his anger daily; it’s palpable, and although it’s not directed at me, I know there is a part of him that resents me for not leaving all the times he pleaded with me. He wasn’t born into the mafia, so he could never understand the calamity that would ensue if I were to ever run.
My little girl wasn’t conceived out of love; no, she was bred in violence and hate, fear and loathing. I was raped. Raped by the one man I will hate with every morsel of my being until my last breath on this earth. The fucked thing is I have to play pretend — fake that I’m not plotting his demise and that it isn’t his seed that planted this baby in my belly. But I know he knows; it’s written all over his features when he leers and smirks at me as his blue eyes devour me from head to toe. He knows. But I’ll be damned if he scares me away. I will love this little girl with all of my heart and soul, and Malcom promises to do the same.
Avernus may have succeeded in fracturing me, but he’ll never break me.
