She bent over, put her hands on her knees and took steady breaths. She’d figure something out. She was capable. She was able. She’d come up with a plan if she had to. Right?
“You’re stressing me out with all that worrying you’re doing.”
Rainne shrieked. She rushed to Alastair’s side. He hadn’t moved an inch, but his eyes were open a crack, watching her. She reached for him, caressing his face. Feeling for herself that he was warm and very much alive.
“You almost gave me a heart attack. I thought you were unconscious,” she whispered. “I thought I’d have to get you some professional help.”
He stared at her for a moment, the air charged between them.
“What kind of professional help?” he whispered back.
She cracked a smile. “That’s the part where I got stuck. It’s a long walk to the only doctor in town and I couldn’t leave you alone while I did it.”
“Did you have a plan B?”
“I was working on it. It might have involved making a sledge from an upturned desk and sliding you through the snow.”
His eyes twinkled in the firelight. “It’s almost a shame I woke up and missed out on the ride.”
Rainne smacked her hand on his stomach, letting it linger. “Don’t joke. I was really worried.”
“Just a wee nap.” Alastair shifted out from under the intimacy of her touch, reminding her they weren’t lovers. Or friends. Or anything at all to each other. He looked away and spoke to the darkness. “My head is splitting.”
Rainne swallowed the rejection—after all, she was the one who’d rejected him first. And hers had been much worse. “I’m not allowed to give you aspirin. If your brain is bleeding, it will make it worse.”
“My brain isn’t bleeding.” He lifted his right arm, forgetting it was injured, and winced. He studied the tight bandage she’d wound around his wrist while he’d been asleep.
“I really was out cold, huh?” Alastair’s eyes snapped to hers. “Wait a minute. What to do you mean you’re not allowed?”
“I spoke to Joe Barone; he works for Lake—”
“I know who Joe is. How did you speak to him? Are the phones back on?” He looked around the room as he spoke. “Still no power.”
Rainne pointed at the wall. “The intercom works. We can talk to the castle.”
“You might have mentioned that first.”
“We’ve been talking one whole minute, Alastair. It isn’t like I waited hours.”
He shot her a look that said he thought otherwise. “What did he tell you?”
“Not to give you aspirin and not to let you move around too much in case you make your ribs worse. He said you could puncture a lung.”
He stared at her for a second. “Not about my injuries. About the guy with the gun?”
“Oh.” Her cheeks burned. “Of course. There’s more than one of them. Joe doesn’t know what they want. They haven’t gone inside the castle. They seem to be waiting for something. Claire has gone into town to get help.”
Alastair struggled to his feet. He still wasn’t as steady as she would have liked. Rainne went to fetch him a can of Coke from the lockers while he checked to see if his jeans were dry. He turned them, as she’d been doing every few minutes, to make sure they dried evenly. Rainne tried not to look at him standing there in his underwear. But it was a small room and there wasn’t anywhere else to look.
“You’ve changed,” she blurted, then felt her cheeks burn.
“People do.”
“You’re bigger.” Why, oh why, wouldn’t her mouth stay shut? “Your shoulders.” She pointed just in case he didn’t know where he kept them. “Broader. You have more muscle, your body is wider and those weren’t there the last time I saw you...” She trailed off before she said the word “naked.”
Alastair looked down at the defined ab muscles she’d pointed to. He seemed at a loss as to what to say, which was new.
“Here.” Rainne thrust the can at him. “The fluid and sugar will help.”
Alastair took the can without comment, popped the top and drank until it was empty. “Got any more in there?”
Rainne fetched him another. She felt self-conscious and awkward as she wondered if she should mention the kiss. In the scheme of things, with everything they had to deal with, thinking about a kiss was really pretty stupid. Yeah. Maybe she’d keep her mouth shut. But the heavy silence was driving her crazy. She had to talk about something. Anything.
“So,” she said. “How’s your dad?”
Alastair stopped drinking to look at her. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “We’re doing small talk now?”
“It’s just us, Alastair. Unless you want to sit in silence, then yeah, we’re doing small talk.”
“Okay.” He stared at her long enough to make her think he was going to take the silence option. “My dad is fine.”
Great. And there ended that conversation starter.
“And the business?” This was painful. She should just shut up and stare at the wall. But then she’d spend her time worrying about the guys outside and the danger everyone was in. Or if Alastair was going to keel over without medical attention. No. She needed to talk.
“The business is fine.” He pointed to the window with the can. “Not really the weather for fishing.”
She swallowed hard. It had only just occurred to her to ask about a girlfriend. What if he was in a relationship? She should have thought of that possibility before she turned up on his doorstep and declared her love. The thought was mortifying.
“Spit it out,” Alastair said. “Whatever it is you want to ask that’s giving you a constipated look.”
She focused on the fire and felt her cheeks burn. “Seeing anyone?” she said as casually as she could manage.
“No,” was the barked reply.
Relief almost swamped her. She scrambled around for something else to discuss.
“What about...”
“Enough,” Alastair said. “I’m done talking.”
Rainne let out a heavy breath. “Help me out here, will you? If you don’t talk to me I’m going to drive us both crazy worrying about this whole situation. Distract me. Please. Talk about anything. Tell me about fishing. Or your dad. Or the shop. Or the football games you watch. Anything. I’ll listen to anything.”
He took a step towards her and suddenly the room seemed far too small for both of them. “You want me to talk, Rainne? You sure about that? You want me to chat with you like things aren’t heavy between us? You want me to talk to you the way you wouldn’t talk to me three years ago? Every time I look at you, I remember how it felt when you shut the door in my face.” His face was stone. All emotion gone. No, that wasn’t entirely right. There was anger. “What a fool I was. Running after you to Glasgow, hoping to convince you to come back. And you couldn’t even bring yourself to talk to me. You would have thought I’d learned my lesson when I was a kid—women always leave. You can’t trust them. My da learned that the hard way when my mum walked out on us when I was nine. And you reinforced the lesson when you tucked tail and ran three years ago. So you’ll forgive me if I don’t want to chat. The time for talking has passed.”
He pushed past her and slammed into the tiny bathroom, snapping the door closed behind him. Rainne stared after him, shock flooding her body. She’d known his parents were divorced. He’d never mentioned his mother, and now she knew why. This situation between them was so much worse than she could have imagined. The damage she’d done to Alastair by leaving was huge. She’d abandoned a guy with abandonment issues.
The bathroom door opened. Alastair stalked out. He didn’t look at her.
“I’m sorry,” Rainne said.
He stared at the glow of the firelight. Rainne cautiously closed the distance between them. Her fingers itched with the need to touch him. To comfort him. But she didn’t.
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I didn’t know.”
He turned his head slightly to loo
k at her. “You never asked.”
The words were a blow. The memory of their time together played out in fast forward in her head. They’d only had a few months together before she’d left, and they’d spent it dealing with her problems. He’d listened to her worries. He’d comforted her when she was upset about her family. He’d been there for her. And she couldn’t remember ever asking about him. Not in any way that mattered. It had been all about her. She hung her head in shame.
“I was so selfish. All about me. My problems. My emotions.” She barked a mirthless laugh as she took a step towards him, her heart heavy with the realisation of exactly how awful she’d been. She tentatively reached out to touch his arm. “I am so sorry, Alastair. For all of it. For being self-centred. For only caring about me. For not trusting that you knew your own mind. For not believing you when asked me to stay. For running away. I’m sorry.”
She hung her head for a second. There was nothing else to say. She withdrew her hand from him, wrapped her arms around herself and turned away. They stood like that for an eternity. Alone, together in the same small space. Alastair staring into the fire. Rainne staring into the darkness. Rainne wanted nothing more than to be somewhere else. She was making everything worse just by being near him.
Not once when thinking about coming back to talk to Alastair had she considered the effect it might have on him. The memories she might bring up. The pain she might cause. She hadn’t changed at all. She was still the self-obsessed girl who’d left years ago. The one who only cared about finding herself. The one who only cared about herself full stop. She wiped a tear from her eye. She didn’t deserve to cry. Not when she was the one who caused the mess she’d ended up in.
“I thought it was my fault.” Alastair’s voice was low, as though he was thinking out loud.
Rainne turned towards him and saw he was still staring into the orange flames. She waited.
“I was a lot of trouble as a kid. Too loud. Too needy. I was always getting into scrapes. And I didn’t sleep much. She was always telling me I needed to stay in bed and sleep, that she needed the peace. I didn’t get it. I just wanted to be around her. She said I was too clingy. Always wanting attention.” He paused, and Rainne’s heart broke for the little boy who’d been abandoned by the mother he loved so desperately. She wiped another silent tear from her cheek, but didn’t move and didn’t make a sound. She didn’t want to break the moment.
“I heard them arguing the morning she left.” He folded his arms, his head bowed. “She said she’d never wanted to be a mother. She told him she’d never have married him if she hadn’t been pregnant with me. We were holding her back. She’d planned a grand future and it wasn’t going to happen in Invertary. Not with a needy wee boy clinging to her all the time and a husband who worked all hours. She packed her things and left. I never saw her again. We don’t even know where she went. London, I think. Maybe.”
Rainne waited. The silence a blanket around them.
“Da went into the sitting room and shut the door once she’d gone. I snuck past him and ran down the street after her. She was wearing her pink dress, the one she’d spent a week’s shopping money on and made Da angry. I grabbed her round the hips and looked up at her. I can still see her face. Her lips were bright pink and her hair was white blonde. Bottle blonde, they call it. I begged her not to leave.” He lifted his head and looked at her. “You know what her last words to me were?”
Rainne shook her head as the tears fell down her cheeks unchecked.
“They were: Go away, Alastair, and stop annoying me for once.”
“Oh, Alastair,” Rainne whispered.
“I never figured it out,” he said, sounding genuinely confused.
She was terrified to ask, but the words tumbled out anyway. “Figured what out?”
She waited for the pain his answer would bring. Pain for the small boy who was unwanted. For the man who’d been rejected.
“How much you need to love someone before they stay.”
Her heart crumpled. There were no words. And although Rainne knew she’d be unwanted and most likely rebuffed, she closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him. She held him tight. Pressing her cheek to his chest. Listening to that strong heart of his that loved so deeply and hurt so badly.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
She was sorry for her part in his pain. Sorry for the boy who’d been rejected. Sorry for the man who ached. There were no other words.
Slowly, she felt his arms wrap around her and he tugged her close. The warmth of his body engulfed her. She was wrapped in his scent and strength, once again taking from him when she was trying to give. Rainne sobbed against his chest. Wishing with all her heart that she could heal him. Wishing she could go back in time and protect the child. Wishing she could go back and change the day she ran.
Wishing she’d stayed.
14
* Rainne and Alastair *
Alastair couldn’t do this. It was too much. A few hours alone with Rainne and he was kissing and holding her. Hell, he was spilling his guts to her. It wasn’t right. He didn’t want this.
He didn’t want her.
His stomach clenched at the thought. But it was true. It had to be true. Only an idiot would let someone into their life so they could trample all over them again. And he wasn’t an idiot. He’d learned his lesson three years ago. There was no point letting anyone close, because they always ended up leaving. He wasn’t meant to be close to someone. He wasn’t meant to be a part of a family. There was just him and his da, and that was the way it would stay.
It took great effort to step away from Rainne, but he did.
She looked up at him with tear-reddened eyes and his stomach lurched.
“We need to see if those clothes are dry.” He turned his back on her and checked his jeans. Still damp, but wearable. Which was good, because he felt far too exposed being near-naked around Rainne. “We’re good. Let’s get dressed.”
It was a subdued Rainne who took her clothes and went into the bathroom to get dressed. Alastair tugged on his jeans and hoped she didn’t want to talk when she came back out. He was well and truly done with the talking part of their evening. In fact, if he never had to talk about his past or his feelings again, that would be great. Why he’d told her that stuff, he didn’t know. It wasn’t like he thought about his mother all the time. He’d dealt with it. He was over it. It was in the past. Where it belonged.
Like Rainne.
She needed to stay in the past. This time with her was muddying things in his head. He scrunched his eyes shut. He should never have kissed her. It must have been the pain. His head, ribs and wrist had ached, and it had been warm by the fire. Then she was touching him and her fragrance was everywhere. It was too hard not to taste her.
But he wouldn’t do it again.
Once, because he’d been delirious with pain. That was it.
He looked at the door to the bathroom as it opened.
Aye. Once was enough. For old times’ sake. To say a final goodbye. That’s all it was. And he didn’t need to do it again. His eyes lingered on her lips. Only the once...
“Okay, I’m dressed,” Rainne said with that fake cheer she’d always used when she felt out of her depth.
“Good.” He hoped that was all she had to say.
“How are your injuries?”
“Fine.”
“Need more painkillers?”
“No.” Yeah, this was going great. Nothing awkward about this conversation. “Look, we don’t need to talk. I’m okay with silence.”
She blinked those pale blue eyes of hers, and he noticed she’d tied her hair up in a messy bun with an elastic band. Although it was strange to see her without the dyed rainbow mass that used to frame her face, he had to admit the soft brown colour made her eyes more luminous.
He watched those expressive eyes signal that something crazy was going on in her fluffy little mind. As long as it stayed in
her head and didn’t escape out of her mouth, he was fine with her thinking whatever she liked.
“I wish I hadn’t been like your mother,” she blurted. “I wish I could prove to you that I’m not a selfish witch, but the fact I’m even worried about this means I’m selfish.”
What?
Alastair took a step back, dazed by the blow of her words.
“You’re nothing like my mum.”
“I left you. I rejected your love. I only cared about me. I never even asked you about her in all the times we were together.”
“Bloody hell.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and then glanced at the door. Was it too late to make a run for it? No, he couldn’t leave her alone. She was too vulnerable if those guys came back. “Do we need to talk about stuff? I’m okay not talking.”
“No, we don’t need to talk.” She held up her hands. “No. I’m sorry. It’s okay. Really. You’ve been through enough and you’ve made your position clear. Okay, so the kiss was confusing, but you probably have concussion and can’t think straight. I’m just doing what I normally do and thinking about myself.”
Alastair let out a sigh. Aye. They needed to talk. There was no getting around it. Why did women always have to hash everything out? It was unnatural.
“You’re nothing like my mum,” he said again, hoping it would sink in this time.
She didn’t seem to be listening. She’d shrunk in on herself the way she used to do. Alastair stepped up to her and put a hand on each of her shoulders to make her look up at him.
“There’s nothing selfish about you. You just get confused sometimes and make stupid decisions.”
Here Comes the Rainne Again Page 10
