by Ivy Raine
Chapter 8
The sound of chirping birds woke Rachel early the next morning.
“You’re up!” Susan was sitting at the window. “You can see a walking trail from the backyard all the way to the ocean. It smells so clean and fresh.”
“What time is it?” Rachel ran her fingers through her tangled hair.
“Almost eight. I heard lots of movement about an hour ago, so I guess the Stanley family rises early.” Susan scrunched up her nose in disgust at the thought of getting out of bed any earlier than she had to.
“Doesn’t surprise me. Ryan’s at the office at least an hour before me every morning.” Rachel stopped. That almost sounded like a boast. She’d always been a little jealous when she heard other women gush about their boyfriends when all she could do was be thankful he made an effort to call her every few days – especially at the end when he was fixated on his latest flavor of the month – the one that finally broke the camel’s back. “Wow,” she said, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. “I think I need a shower.”
“Yep. You’re not catching Mister Right like that.”
“Thank you, Miss Obvious.”
The water spiraled from the shower head like a power washer, waking her up and massaging her tired back at the same time. This was definitely a Stanley shower: to the point, no nonsense, and practical. Rachel was just about finished when she heard a man’s laugh. George. He and Susan were discussing something, and rather loudly. She hurried to finish, but by the time she shut off the water, the room was quiet again.
“Was that George I heard a minute ago?” Rachel wrapped her dripping hair up in a towel.
“He’s in love with you, ya know.” Susan guided Rachel to a chair and pulled her towel from her head. “Not in a romantic way, of course, but in every other way. He thinks you’re an angel sent to put him on the right track.”
Rachel rolled her eyes and smiled. “He’s a great person to have on my side, that’s for sure.”
“He wanted to let you know that Ryan’s down by the beach – alone. He also mentioned something about a pretty dress that accentuates your eyes.” Susan shrugged. “Not normally what a guy would want accentuated, but to each his own, I suppose.”
A wave of emotion hit Rachel like a ton of bricks and she fought back the tears. “I know what he means.”
Rachel’s lack of a father figure in her life had always left her wondering what it felt like to be loved by a man that wanted nothing from her except pure, simple love. Even though she was five when her dad died, the memories she had of him were scattered into tiny little fragments that she’d pieced together over the years. When she was a teen, she would make up the pieces that went in between and actually had herself convinced of some of her ‘memories’. It helped to get her through her occasional rocky periods with her mom – and it also kept her out of a lot of trouble. Her dad was there with her, sitting beside her at the movies when her first boyfriend wanted to touch her inappropriately in the dark, and when he insisted that if she loved him she’d have sex with him in the woods behind the school. That’s when the little pieced-together conversations would pop into her head and her dad would keep her safe by reminding her that she had to live with her decisions – and that he loved her. Yes, he had watched over her, and she knew he was still watching. Maybe she had an angel, too. Maybe it was George, and maybe her father stood right beside him, whispering little messages in his ear.
Rachel put on that pretty dress, the one with the chocolate ribbon accents woven through the ivory eyelets. Not a hint of anything else was exposed, and she felt beautiful. Susan pulled out the tools of her trade and fussed over Rachel’s hair and makeup, and when she was finished, she announced Rachel an ‘exquisite success’.
“You’re really way underpaid, Sue. You should seriously consider opening your own boutique.” Rachel was in awe of what a little talent could do.
“It’s all in the canvas, my dear.” Susan bent down and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “Thanks for not unfriending me over all of this.”
“Not a chance. We’re stuck for life. Like sisters.”
Susan covered her mouth and laughed. “Oh, my god! Do you remember that?”
“I certainly do,” said Rachel. “You ran from me so I couldn’t prick your finger with the pin.”
“Too, sharp. Besides, it was a lot easier just to pick off that scab on my knee.”
“Do you still have your contract?” Rachel would never admit it to Susan, but she carried that piece of handwritten paper smeared with blood off to college with her, and it was currently tucked away in her nightstand beside her bed.
Susan nodded. “I framed it. I figured if I ever disappeared, they’d have a good sample of DNA to work with. Especially after you dragged me from my simple country home off to the big city where every other person is murdered, raped, or kidnapped.”
“And you wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Course not. Can’t live without ya, sis. That’s part of Ryan’s problem. He doesn’t understand our relationship. Maybe if you took some time to explain things, he’d see the light.”
Rachel tensed. “No. He has to trust what I tell him or we don’t have a future.”
“Why are you so stubborn? You can’t expect him to understand something if you don’t give him all the facts.”
“I trust him. If he tells me something, I don’t question it. I just want the same thing from him.” Rachel knew it sounded crazy, but she wanted him to trust her without a shadow of a doubt. She experienced first-hand how lack of trust could destroy a relationship, and she didn’t want Ryan to find out what that felt like.
