Raine's Haven

by Shari J. Ryan

  "And if we get you medication?"

  "Most of the episodes will go away," he says.

  "Then, this is a priority."

  I have refused to become like Dad—be a product of what he has produced, but I know well that desperation can make for an ugly situation and cause people to do things they wouldn’t do otherwise. Raine places his hand down on my knee and grips gently. "You don't need to worry about me, but I appreciate the thought."

  "I know I don't need to worry, but I still care about you. A lot." I reach over and touch my thumb to the scabbed cut on his lip. "It hurt watching you go through that last night. I can't get the images out of my head, and knowing there's a way to avoid it, I will do whatever it takes to help you, no matter how you feel about me."

  Raine takes my thumb from his lip and places my hand on his chest. "Knowing you care is enough for me." His heart is pounding against his chest, and I can feel each beat thump against my hand. "Maybe it's not the best way to think, but I've come to the point where I've given up hope on winning this battle, Haven. I used to be a fighter, but I don't have it in me anymore." He pulls my hand down to his lap, and his focus follows as we both watch his thumb draws circles over the cluster of freckles on my knuckles. "You know, I fought against my parents for so long, needing to show the ghost of their existences that they can't ruin my life the way they destroyed theirs. I was supposed to win, be the person who survived the odds and overcame hurdles no one expected me to overcome, but I've come to realize…I am who I was born to be, and it doesn't matter if I had a say in it or not."

  "But, you have so much good inside of you, and that's all I've ever seen. Everyone around you can think what they want, but you and I both know the truth, and that should be all that matters."

  Raine pulls his hand away from mine and sweeps the tips of his fingers against my cheek, the warmth of his skin melting the chill I feel on my face. His touch makes my heart ache and my stomach twist into knots. I had often thought about our connection—the one he mentioned back before everything went south. I haven't been able to push that thought out of my mind–because it's true. "I missed you more than I was angry at you," he says. "There was a constant ache in my chest from the thought of never seeing you again. I didn't have much else to think about while I was locked up, so thoughts of you were on replay day after day, night after night. I never got sick of the memories or reliving them in the darkness of my mind." With caution in his eyes, he slowly—cautiously—leans forward and lightly touches his lips to my mine. My breaths drain from my lungs, and my pulse quickens throughout every inch of my body.

  His lips are overwhelming and can devour mine with little force. I feel his abrasion from last night scratch against my lip, and the feeling of pain I had felt mixed with the sense of need I have right now is creating a tornado of emotions within my gut. I just have to be with him because...I can't be without him. I clutch at his tight, black t-shirt, pressing my knuckles into his hard chest, needing something to grab and hold onto as I become lightheaded from a lack of air.

  His grip tightens against my face, holding me in place like I'm an anchor to something good. Yet, we both know that I'm the anchor to all terrible things in his life, and it's hard to understand why he still wants to be this close to me.

  The tip of his tongue sweeps across my bottom lip, igniting every nerve ending in my body. When air is no longer an option, he parts his lips from mine, catching his breath less than an inch away. A smile perks at his lips. It’s a smile I only saw the few other times he’s kissed me in my life. "The—the feeling I get when I'm with you has never changed." He brushes his knuckles down the side of my face. "I'd go to prison for another seven years for that kind of kiss."

  "I can make that happen," a familiar voice booms from behind us. Bennett, in all his glory, is standing less than ten feet away, holding up his phone as if he were taking a picture. "Daddy will love to see this–huh, Haven? Good thing I got it all on video for him."

  Ignoring the lightheaded sensation running through me, I stand up and rush toward Bennett— consumed by fury. I've acted like a goddamn lady for so long now; he has no clue what I'm capable of.

  The second his last word oozes from his chapped lips to the moment I sucker punch him, forcing him to drop his phone, has to be less than ten seconds. As he's recoiling from the blow of my fist, which was packed with way more adrenaline than I thought possible, I grab the phone from the grass and race toward the pond with it. "What the hell are you doing?" Bennett yells.

  I hear his footsteps plunging into the dew-covered grass, the sound growing closer by the second, but as I'm less than a few feet away from the water's edge, I toss his phone as far as I can, watching it land directly in the center of the pond. "Step away from her now," Raine says calmly.

  I know Bennett is right behind me. I want to turn around and give him another piece of my fist, but I try to calm myself first, taking deep breaths, reminding myself I'm better than he is because money does not define us. "You've been screwing around, haven't you?" Bennett seethes.

  A wild laugh breaks from my throat. "No, I haven't been. I don't retaliate like that, Bennett."

  "Retaliate?" he says, clearly confused.

  "You think I don't know that you slept with Maryanne last summer? Those overnight shifts you suddenly had after having none for a year, that just happened to coincide with the nights Maryanne's husband was away on business. You know," I say, slapping my fists against my legs. "There's one thing that everyone has very wrong about me. I'm not stupid. I'm pretty intelligent. I could hold a real-person job and rent a real-person apartment and buy a car, food, and...believe it or not, take care of myself. I don't need your wallet, and I don't need my dad's. What I do need...is a little honesty in my life because I’ve been surrounded by lies since I was a child, teaching me that dishonesty is the only way to survive. Maybe I learned faster than the rest of you that lies only destroy all good things.

  "Whoa, I can explain that," he says.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Raine with a smug grin stretching across his face. He's eating up every moment of this, and who could blame him? His reaction encourages me to continue; my adrenaline is still raging.

  "I don't care about your explanation, Bennett. The thing is, I don't even care that you cheated on me with my…we'll call her my best friend for argument's sake, because the truth is, I never felt what I should have felt for you. I was more pissed off at Maryanne for doing something that sleazy than I was at you for totally disregarding the feelings you thought I had for you. You are just like the rest of them. And no, I didn't decide to reject your proposal because of what you did. I turned you down because I can't imagine living the rest of my life with you. There were days when I couldn't figure out how I'd wake up next to you again. We never should have been together. I'm not like you, and I never will be. And that's a good thing, in case you're wondering."

  Visible heat in the form of redness fills Bennett's cheeks, but it's the truth, and he deserves every bit of this. "What exactly are you like, Haven? That?" He points to Raine, who is smiling so widely he's practically laughing.

  "Actually, yeah. Neither of us are who we appear to be, and for that reason, I have found a comfort in Raine that I will never see in you or anyone else."

  "Whatever," Bennett says, throwing his arms up in the air. "I'll go buy another one of you."

  I cup my hands around my mouth and shout, "Welcome to Cascade, Louisiana, everyone—a place where you can buy just about anything…even a wife."

  "Nice, Haven, real nice," he says.

  "Yeah, well…" I flip him the bird. "Fuck you, and enjoy the life you buy for yourself. Oh, and feel free to pass the message along to Maryanne. She should know."

  Bennett's nostrils are flaring, and it's the look I only see when he's enraged, which is exactly what I wanted to cause him. "You're going to be sorry," he says.

  I'll let him have the last word this time. He's not worth it, and right now I just want him t
o get the hell out of my sight.

  Bennett turns away from me and heads back in the direction he came, but not without his parting words to Raine first. "It's only a matter of time before you’re behind bars again, douchebag."

  Raine doesn't say a word. He just smiles sweetly and waves at Bennett as if he were a little girl passing by.

  It takes a few minutes before my rage settles down, but as it does, I return to the bench, where Raine places his arm around my shoulders. "You're right about not being stupid, but I stand behind the fact that you do kind of make…decisions that aren’t always thought out," he says, jokingly. "Oh, and that pitching arm of yours is pretty much the second hottest thing I've ever seen."

  Confused, I ask, "What's the first?"

  "Red lipstick…you know, like you were wearing the other night as if you were expecting to run into me…"

  "My red lipstick has always been about you, and no, I truly didn't expect to run into you. I was just thinking about you, is all."

  27

  Raine

  Haven asked me to trust her as she took off to start her investigation. It's not the trust part that I'm having trouble with, it's the faith. I can't see a favorable outcome from her tearing through Mayor Leigh's office.

  As I walk back through town toward Sutter for work, I run into a few gems—three old ladies sitting on a bench, clucking away. Their chatters stop as I pass and one of them squawks, "Get out of this town, you Neanderthal. I hope you rot in hell."

  I turn to face the woman, doing what I've refused to do since the moment I walked away from the prison. "Excuse me?" I question. "Did you just tell a stranger to 'rot in hell'?" I press my hands into my hips as my head tilts to the side questioningly. It would have been in my best interest to ignore her, but I'm not sure I can keep ignoring this shit.

  "You aren't a stranger, Raine Carson. This whole town knows you well." The gray-haired and wrinkle-warn woman seems a bit uncomfortable talking to me as if she thought I would ignore her and continue on while carelessly taking what she was dishing out. If I was the person they're painting a picture of in their heads, why would they tempt a convict with cruelty?

  "Have you ever heard of forgiveness?" I ask the woman, spotting the golden cross hanging low over her thin, emerald sweater.

  "Of course," she says, pinching her fingers around the cross.

  "Well," I smile. "I forgive Haven Leigh for lying to me about her age, so, I think we can all move past this if I'm able to." I realize I just threw Haven under the bus, but I believe it's something she would have said if she were standing here with me.

  "Pardon me?" the woman asks, her voice softening to almost a whisper, while she leans toward me with her hand cupped around her ear as if she needs to hear what I said again.

  I place my hands on my knees and lean in, meeting her glare. "Just because she's beautiful and well off, doesn't mean she wasn't once a liar."

  The woman's fingers release from around the cross, and her hand flattens against her chest. "It's hard to believe a convict," she says, holding onto the last bit of cruelty I think she may have. "But, I always knew that family was a little odd."

  "Well," I say, standing up straight. "We all make mistakes in life, some worse than others, but Haven learned from hers, and she isn't like the rest of her family, thankfully. She's a good person."

  "How can you believe that if what you're saying is true? She lied to you and had you put into prison for years."

  Puffing out my chest with a deep inhale, I press my lips together and look at the woman for a long uncomfortable second. "Like I said, ma'am–forgiveness."

  I leave on that note, hearing their chatter pick back up. Whether they believe me or not, I don't care, but word spreads quickly in this town, regardless if it is truth or not.

  Arriving at the bar a little early, I find Crow already hard at work, counting out cash. "Hey man," he says, dumping the wad into the register. "You're here early."

  "Not much else going on," I tell him. "Put me to work."

  "The kegs need to be changed out," he says.

  People change a lot over the course of seven years, and Crow is the perfect example of this, but even after hanging around with the matured version of Crow this week, I can tell something crawled up his ass.

  "Everything okay, man?"

  "Yeah, fine," he says, dumping a few empty liquor bottles into a bin. I wait for a minute, wondering if he'll come out with it, but he doesn't so I head for the back door to get the kegs. "Kacee said you can't stay with us."

  Fuck. "Did I do something to piss her off?" Because...I hadn't seen her since the other night when we ran into each other in the parking lot and she didn’t act like there was a whole lot wrong at that moment. On the contrary, she acted like she was kind of happy to see me.

  Crow scratches the scar that cuts through his left brow, reminding me of the night some dude took a broken bottle to his face during one of the infamous bar fights here. "She asked where you were when I came home without you."

  He told her I was with Haven, the child I raped. "So she thinks the same thing everyone in Cascade thinks of me?"

  Crow nods his head in agreement, "Well, yeah. Do you know there wasn't a week that went by where your story wasn't published in the newspaper? It just kept reappearing to remind everyone of what happened to the mayor's daughter. Everyone has been mind-washed." Wow, that must have been painful for Haven to live with for seven years.

  "You believe me, don't you?" I ask, wondering if I'm truly the only one who believes myself.

  "Yeah, man, of course; you're my bro. I know you're not a rapist or nothing." So, why are you looking at me the way you are while saying this?

  "Hmm," I say, pushing through the back door for the kegs.

  When I return a couple of minutes later, Crow is still standing in the same place. "You know, even if you were aware that she was sixteen, I don't think what you did was wrong. I lost my virginity at fifteen, so what's the big deal?"

  "I'm not looking to make excuses," I tell him, placing the keg down. "Honestly, I didn't know she was sixteen, and I held off for a while just thinking she was only eighteen."

  "You know," Crow says, scratching at his beard. "There's another rumor too."

  Can't wait to hear this one. "Yeah?"

  "It came from word of mouth, so who knows who started it, but some people said you broke into the mayor's office earlier on the day you were arrested, and tried to steal some shit. Something about his money." He pauses, breaking up the rumor with a nervous, short laugh. "By the time I got wind of it, the story sounded like it had been changed a million times, so I didn't know what to believe." I'd like to tell Crow the truth, but it's not time yet. No one is going to find out about what the mayor did until I have my valid proof.

  "I think you know me better than that," I tell him.

  "Yeah, yeah, of course," Crow says.

  "Don't worry about me crashing with you. I'll figure it out," I tell him, now knowing that every dime I make from this place will be going right to the motel. I won't have a chance to save much, but it is what it is.

  "Kacee and I have been butting heads on this, and we've been fighting non-stop for the last three days," he admits.

  "Sorry, bro, I never meant to cause any trouble between you two."

  "Thanks for understanding," Crow says.

  Our small talk turned awkward throughout the hour before the bar opened. I never expected any relationship I had to go back to the way it was before I was locked up, but I never imagined Crow being as wound up and whipped as he is. I guess that's what love does to a man.

  I've managed to perfect several more mixed drink recipes tonight, and I'm finally able to get to all the patrons promptly.

  "You're working here now?" a woman calls out from the other side of the bar.

  I look toward the outstretched hand holding a ten-dollar bill. Her nails are painted royal blue tonight, with a top coating of glitter. It only took a second to register who I'm lo
oking at, but memories of the other night assault me as I recall the horrible hours I had with this chick. "Crystal," I say with a lack of enthusiasm. "What can I get you?"

  "Sex on the Beach," she says, touching the tip of her tongue along her top lip.

  "Coming right up," I tell her, realizing what I said, and how it is likely being misconstrued by her.

  "I hope so," she says. "When can I get you off?"

  I glance over at the TV, finding the time at the bottom of the screen, wondering how much longer I’ll have to put up with her and her one-liners.

  "Not happening," I say, glancing back at her.

  She leans over the bar, her tits nearly falling out of her child-sized shirt, grabbing my hand as I uneasily look around at the patrons. "Come on, baby. We were good together," she says, bringing my hand close to her mouth.

  "Were you?" another woman's voice speaks out from behind Crystal. Haven. "I mean, yikes, that's not what I heard," Haven says to Crystal.

  "Excuse me. Who the fuck are you?" Crystal looks Haven up and down, snarling at her like a sick dog would do. "A pretty little girl like you shouldn't be in this bar so late at night."

  "And a skank like you should be paying more attention to your designated street corner this late at night." Holy fucking yes. Haven just made me fall head over heels for her all over again. It was a little harsh, but that was amazing.

  Crystal looks from Haven over to me. "Right, I forgot, you have a thing for little girls, sicko." Crystal stands up and shoves her ten-dollar bill into her see-through, plastic purse before moving to the other end of the bar. Jokes on her, though. I'm working the whole bar tonight.

  "What are you doing here?" I ask, laughing at Haven as she grabs a cocktail napkin and wipes down the stool where Crystal's most likely pantyless ass was just resting.

  Haven sits down and reaches into her purse, handing over a five-dollar bill. "I'll have whatever she was having," she says, grinning.

  "Sex on the Beach?" I ask with a raised brow.