Saving Rain

by Karen-Anne Stewart

  Kas is up, pacing the floors for the hundredth time since Raina slammed the door after their argument. He keeps replaying their heated words in his head, and even though he still stands wholeheartedly behind his decision, he feels like an ass for how he handled the situation. He knows that ordering her around will only push her away, especially since he’s pretty darn sure she’s been ordered around for the majority of her life. Kas wants to run to her room, pull her into his arms, and tell her how sorry he is for his Neanderthal attitude, but he can’t seem to get his feet to cooperate to do anything more than restlessly pace back and forth.

  He knows that it’s not pride that’s keeping him from knocking on her door, he’s a big enough man to admit when he’s wrong. Fear is what is making him wear a path out on the living room floor, fear that maybe Chase is wrong this time. Even though Chase’s track record is unsurpassed, what if Raina is in there packing her things before she does slam the front door, leaving him broken without her? Kas is spared any further doubts of her intentions when he hears the soft click of the door opening and her footsteps coming down the hall.

  Raina timidly looks up at him, a sheepish half smile tipping the corners of her full mouth. She shyly bites her bottom lip, and he nearly falls to his knees to beg her forgiveness. Instead, he clears his throat, trying to find the voice that somehow seems to disappear when he sees her, especially seeing her looking at him right now, so vulnerable and uncertain of what his reaction to her will be.

  Kas closes the distance between them and pulls her into his arms, “I’m sorry, darlin’.”

  Raina buries her head into his chest and wraps her arms around his waist, “Me, too.”

  He can barely hear her muffled words due to her face being buried in his shirt, but he understands her meaning and runs his hand down her hair before sitting down and pulling her onto his lap.

  Raina lets him guide her, not wanting to move from the warmth and comfort of his chest. She can hear the soothing beat of his heart, and she snuggles closer to him, wishing she had the courage to tell him how she feels. Kas just holds her, neither of them saying anything else, knowing no more words are necessary to repair their tender feelings from earlier. All is forgiven as they enjoy the feel of their bodies melded together, cuddled on the couch, offering each other silent comfort as their hearts softly beat in unison.

  Raina’s eyes flutter open when she feels Kas lowering her from his strong arms, tucking her into her bed. She whimpers slightly at the loss of his comforting warmth before she snuggles into her pillow and drifts peacefully back to sleep.

  He sits on the bed next to her for a few moments, gently stroking her hair. His heart melts into putty as he watches her beautiful face as she sleeps, her chest softly rising up and down with each slumber relaxed breath. He runs his fingers lovingly down her cheek and places a sweet, yearning kiss at the corner of her eye before he slips quietly out of her room.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Raina awakens the next morning feeling fully rested for the first time in as long as she can remember. She slowly raises her arms above her head, relieved that her ribs are no longer in excruciating pain with her catlike stretches. A smile overcomes her as she remembers the feeling of being wrapped up so protectively in Kas’ arms last night.

  Glancing at the clock, she is surprised to see that it’s 10:00 a.m. She bolts upright, shocked that she slept so late. She is usually up by 6:00 a.m. The smell of bacon and pancakes causes her empty stomach to protest. Slipping out of bed, she takes time only to brush her teeth and throw her hair back into a ponytail until she can shower after breakfast.

  “Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Kas flashes his greeting with a big smile, “I hope you’re hungry.”

  “Absolutely famished,” she admits as she grabs a couple of plates from the cupboard. She tops of his juice before she pours her own glass. “Need help with anything?” she offers between sips.

  “Nope, got it covered.” Kas serves her bacon and pancakes before filling his plate and sliding into the seat at the bar next to her.

  “This smells delicious,” she tells him, taking a covetous bite into the crisp, apple smoked bacon. “Mmmmm,” she groans appreciatively, her appetite back after a couple of days on hiatus.

  “I’m heading into work in a bit, you can stay here, or you can go with me if you feel up to it.”

  “I’ll go,” she responds quickly, needing to feel normal again. The only work she has done during the past nine days has been to work on her thesis, and now that she’s finished that, she’s desperate to do something productive. She thinks about how Kas has spoiled her while she was healing, only letting her cook and nothing else. Now that she’s going to be staying here indefinitely, that is going to change, she won’t allow him to spoil her anymore.

  Kas smiles, pleased that she cleaned her plate of both helpings he served her. He starts to gather the plates, but she takes them from his hand with a mischievous glint glittering in her green eyes. “I’ll do the dishes, I have to earn my keep,” she winks playfully at him.

  Relief that she hasn’t changed her mind floods through Kas, releasing tension that he didn’t know he still had. “Sweetheart, you’re not my maid, and you don’t have to earn your keep.”

  “I know, but I don’t mind cleaning up.”

  Kas grabs a drying towel from the kitchen drawer and steps to the sink beside her, playfully bumping her, “I don’t either.”

  After the dishes are done and put away, she showers and dresses in record time, ready to get back to the regular hubbub of life.

  “Ready?” Kas asks when she comes into the living room.

  Raina nods and grabs her purse and laptop as they head to the door.

  “When I get done we will swing by the cabin to grab more of your things. It’s too cold for you to go out with wet hair.”

  His consideration of her feelings and needs still pleasantly surprises her, and she feels a warm glow from head to toe.

  Traffic is light, and they arrive in fifteen minutes. The hustle and bustle hasn’t changed any in nine days, and they maneuver their way to Kas’ office. He immediately dives into the files piled high on his desk and has his head buried, sorting through the most important matters, when Dexter pops his head in the door.

  “Glad to have you back,” Dexter says while bringing Kas another file, “make this one your priority.”

  Kas takes the file and does a quick cursory glance, “Yes, sir.”

  “How is Raina coming along?” Dexter asks, his gruff voice changing to concern.

  “She’s healing well,” Kas starts, then nods towards Raina, who is piled up on a chair in the corner, translating transcripts.

  Dexter’s eyes light up when he sees Raina smile and wave. Kas can’t help but smile at the effect she has on people. She has this innate ability to bring out the best in even the roughest and toughest of them. A quick flash of anger shakes him at how her father and Chris can hurt someone so kind and innocent.

  “Hey there, young lady, you gave me quite a scare,” Dexter pulls her into a hug, and Raina tries not to wince when he gives her a tight squeeze. “Are you sure you should be here so soon?” he asks, his voice turning all paternal.

  “I’m fine,” she replies light heartedly.

  Kas represses a sigh at the sound of the word that is becoming frustratingly synonymous with her.

  “That file is what we have so far on the leaders of a human trafficking ring that we think is related to the group you took down a couple of weeks ago. The techs found something on their computers linking the two; they are still working on cracking the rest of the information stored on the hard drive.” Dexter sighs and shakes his head. “These people keep getting meaner and smarter, a combo I thoroughly despise.” He looks at Raina again, “Are you up to talking to one of the girls Derrick is bringing in? She speaks very little English, and we need to get as much information as we can, ASAP.”

  “Of course, what’s her native language?” Raina assures hi
m, quickly repressing a surge of fear that prickles up her spine.

  “Spanish,” Dexter informs her before turning back to Kas. “Give Chase a call, these girls are going to need someone with his expertise with the hell they’ve been through,” he says while walking out of the door.

  After Kas hangs up with Chase, he reads the file on the ring leaders, and he runs his hands through his hair, dropping his elbows on the desk. It appears that Dexter is right, the file is slim, but what they have shows that they are sophisticated and well-funded. Something that Kas can’t quite put his finger on nags at him. The group seems to have been moving a small group of girls, but from what the file dictates, they discovered a top of the line security system and equipment. The amount of money found doesn’t add up to the number of girls they rescued, which causes Kas’ stomach to turn, knowing that either some of the girls have been sold already, or the traffickers are only minnows working for a bigger piranha.

  “What’s wrong?” Raina asks, sensing the tension radiating off of Kas. She knows the depravity of what has happened to these girls, and what is still happening to so many others, weighs heavily on all of them. She has been sickened by the transcripts she’s read and translated before, and now that she’s getting ready to talk with one of the girls in the flesh, anxiety makes her blood run cold. She’s terrified of what she is getting ready to witness firsthand. Guilt hits Raina hard and fast, making her push away the thoughts of that horrid night. She tries to focus, pulling on her inner strength to give her the courage to push past her fears from what Brian did to her, knowing that what these poor girls have gone through has been, sadly, so much worse.

  “Dexter’s right, they seem to have highly sophisticated technology, and due to all the firewalls, they obviously have pertinent information that we need to access now.”

  Raina runs her tongue over her lips before biting her lower one. “I might be able to help you with that,” she offers shyly.

  Kas shoots her a quizzical look, “What do you mean?”

  “I’m pretty good with finding back doors to fire walls.”

  “Pretty good? Define ‘pretty good’,” Kas asks watching her closely, his curiosity and hope piqued.

  “Well, really good, actually,” she responds, modesty keeping her from telling the truth of just how good she really is.

  Kas shakes his head and chuckles, “I know you are getting your doctorate with computers, but I didn’t realize it involved this kind of knowledge. I thought languages are your specialty.”

  “Languages are my passion, the intricacies of computers are my...specialty,” she admits quietly, too modest to tell him that she is quite gifted with technology, creating it, cracking it, improving it, and just about everything in between. Her gift of understanding technology saved her, giving her an escape countless times and ultimately, her means to freedom.

  “Alright, you have clearance that would cover taking a look. I’ll take you up to Erik when you’re done translating. Chase will be talking with the Americans, and they’ll probably bring in a Spanish-speaking therapist for the girl you are going to talk to—”

  Anything else that Kas was going to say is cut off when they see Derrick and his team leading a group of terrified girls, some so young Raina thinks she is going to get sick in Kas’ office. They watch them silently, unspeakable thoughts searing their brains, until they turn the corner and are out of sight. It’s a moment before either of them speaks.

  Kas protectively grabs Raina’s arm and turns her towards him, worry filling him at the sharp paleness of her skin, “Are you sure you are up for this, sweetheart?”

  Raina swallows, a task quite difficult with how dry her mouth has become. She forces herself to nod before she musters up her courage and walks out of the room, towards the direction where the terrified, traumatized girls were taken. She straightens herself to her full five foot six height and forces herself to stop shaking while she walks more purposely than she feels to the room where the poor victim sits. No, not a victim, she angrily reminds herself, she hates that word. Survivor, that’s what she will think of her, what she will call her, what she deserves to be referred to as.

  Raina stops when she reaches the closed door. Taking deep breaths, she stares at the dark wood, wishing with all her might that this is just a dream, a nightmare, and she would wake up to a better world, a world where women and children aren’t subjected to such monstrosities, a world where the weaker aren’t dominated by the stronger to build their depraved minds to a false sense of superiority.

  With a final shaky breath, Raina timidly raises her trembling hand and knocks on the door. Fear engulfs her as the door opens, and it’s all she can do to not turn and bolt out of the building, but when her eyes lock with the eyes of the most broken person she has ever seen, she stands her ground. There is no way she can run out on this girl, no way she will not do her very best to help her in whatever way she possibly can, no matter what it takes from herself.

  Raina gives the girl huddled in the corner a small smile as she walks over to her and lowers herself to her knees so she is level with the enervated girl who has been reduced to mere fragments of the person she used to be. She slowly places her hand on top of the frail hand that is protectively wrapped around the girl’s trembling knees. Raina watches with empathy as the girl continues to maintain enough courage to not break their eye contact. She searches the girl’s eyes and finds that the she is doing the exact same thing to her. They stay like that, both staring and searching, trying to find something in the other that can somehow mend at least a small part of what has been pervasively mauled and soiled by the wickedness of too many men to remember, faces of men that the emotionally wounded and scarred girl would give ten years of her life to forget.

  After they search each other silently for several moments, a gruff cough interrupts their silent quest for redemption. Raina breaks their fragile connection and gives the agent at the table a warning glare. Sensing that the girl feels more comfortable in her chosen corner, she crosses her legs and sits on the floor facing her. “Mi nombre es Raina, piensas que puedes ayudarme?” she starts, treading softly and carefully, introducing herself and then eliciting for the girl’s help, desperately trying to give her back at least a tiny fraction of power that has been robbed of her time after time.

  It takes a moment, but the girl finally gives the slightest of nods that if she wasn’t paying close attention, Raina would have missed altogether. “Como te llamas?” Raina tenderly asks her name. “Claudia.”

  Hearing the girl’s quiet, sweet voice sends a calming relief soaring through Raina. “Mucho gusto Claudia, que bonito nombre,” she continues the tentative introductions, giving Claudia all the time needed to find a comfortable pace.

  Claudia’s shy smile encourages Raina to continue. “Cuantos anos tienes, Claudia?” she asks her age, dreading the answer.

  “Diez y seis.”

  Sixteen, too young to have even heard about of this kind of hell. Raina feels a sharp stab to her heart as she looks into this young girl’s eyes and witnesses an encompassing, dark emptiness. She says a silent, fervent prayer that Claudia will find her way through the darkness with God’s help.

  Raina continues with easy, non-probing questions for a while, noting and ignoring the aggravating impatience of the callous agent clearing his throat, sitting four feet away from them. She turns away from Claudia, making sure she can’t see her shoot a last warning to the agent, her jade eyes spitting fire. As Raina spends time building a rapport with Claudia, she eases into the more difficult questions, backing off when she senses she is asking too much, too soon. She expertly redirects the necessary but offensive questions in the mildest manner possible, eventually finding a path of communication that offers Claudia a sense of security while easing her resistance in giving the horrific details needed to help track down the monsters responsible for her sobering fragility. After hearing the disturbing nightmare this poor girl, and so many others like her have survived, Raina’s em
otions are exhausted to the point of numbness. She reassuringly squeezes Claudia’s hand and whispers encouragement of courage and faith, praying she is giving at least a spark of hope, knowing that Claudia has a long road ahead of her.

  The psychologist takes over, and Raina steps outside, giving her full report to Agent Lawson as he tucks the recording into an envelope, dated and categorized. His impatience is still clinging to him, rubbing Raina dangerously close to blurting out exactly what she thinks of his flippant attitude. As the last of the details have been translated, Agent Lawson pushes it too far as he mumbles under his breath, “About time.”

  Raina’s last thread of reserve snaps, exposing all of her frayed nerves and emotions, and she unleashes her anger onto the un-expecting agent. “You may see this every day, and maybe it has made you so numb you have become indifferent, but I can assure you that the girl in there, the girls in all of the other rooms, are anything but indifferent,” she scolds. Her voice is strong and booming as the rush of emotions swirling around like a typhoon inside of her fuels her anger. She stands on her tiptoes so she is at her fullest height as she continues her verbal admonition. “They have been through hell on earth and are at the brink of completely unraveling from the horrific acts that have been forced unwillingly on them time after sickening time.”

  The whole room has become quiet, with only Raina’s sharp words stabbing truth resoundingly in the silence of the room. All eyes are glued and ears open, unbeknownst to her as she continues, unable to stop the tirade building in her. “The very least these women and girls deserve is our respect, our time and patience to listen to what they have to say, at their own pace. If you are so jaded by the depravation around you that you can’t give them at least that, then maybe it’s time for you to find another profession.”