Raine Falling (Hells Saints Motorcycle Club) (5 page)

CHAPTER 11

T
he sweet obscure sounds of Eva Cassidy played out from my iPod, and I was singing along in perfect harmony. The subtle tones of my young voice had grown into something sweet, strong, and sultry. Music gave me such pleasure and transported me to a place far from the ties that bound me. I had taught myself to play the guitar and would often sing and play long into the night. It had helped to keep away the loneliness. In those formative years when lifelong friendships were being forged, neither Claire nor I had the kind of lives that invited other people in.

I was feeling okay, and I was singing in the sunshine. Every so often, I would lift up my chin and let the healing light shine down on my battered face. I stayed out there most of the day. I let the wind take my hair and the grass tickle my toes. I drank lemonade. Then I had myself a couple of beers. I worked in the little garden until my back ached. Occasionally, I would find myself glancing at the back entry. In my mind it was no longer just a screen door but a dark threshold that would lead me out of my warm, sunny space and into a world of worry.

I was glad that the drop was over and the MC had their money. Past experiences notwithstanding, I knew it was much better to be off their radar. The Diego thing. I decided to not even go there. I still worried about why he was in my house last night. But the Saints were all paid up now, and it was all good. Diego was a complication I couldn’t afford, period. So what if he smelled like clean soap, and when he held me in his arms I had felt safe and protected. He hadn’t stuck around for the light of day. My mom would have said that was him being a “Walk-away Joe.”

“Real men are the ones who go to sleep next to you at night, wake up next to you in the morning, and hold you in their hearts all the hours in between. You make sure when it’s your time to choose that you pick a man like that.”

Yeah,
I thought wryly.
Good luck with that.

The sun was low in the sky when I finally walked into the kitchen to make myself a sandwich. It had been a good day. I had started the day off thinking my life was a train wreck. By the end of the day, I was comparing it to more of a derailment. My life hadn’t crashed and burned, it had simply gotten off track.

I pulled the screen door open wide ready to face the next thing. When I walked into the kitchen the next thing hit me like a bullet. How could I have missed that? The envelope bag was sitting on the table and must have been there all day. Or had it been? I walked towards it praying to sweet, sweet Jesus that it was empty. Hoping against hope that Diego had grabbed the cash out of it. Why would he want a stupid bulky bag anyway, right? He wouldn’t. Nothing to worry about. Nothing to worry about. Nothing to worry about. Don’t worry. Nothing to worry about. At all.

When I picked it up and saw the cash sitting like a heavy stone still in the bag, I sank to the floor. This couldn’t make sense in any way that was good. Diego hadn’t taken the money. Which meant . . . what? Or after having taken it, had he come back while I was outside singing it up in the garden thinking the worst was over?

Shit, they had even sent him to come two days early for it. Why leave it without a word? Unless maybe he forgot it. Oh, of course that was it. How dumb of me to worry. He had been so hypnotized by my bloody, beaten face and so enthralled by my puke fest that he simply forgot about the thirty thousand dollars that I owed his MC.

Why had he been here sitting in the dark, waiting for me, and then had not taken that money? Unless it wasn’t the money he had come for. So what had he come for?

I was pacing.

Think. Think. Think. Think.

They had said that the money wouldn’t be enough if . . . if . . . if . . . what?

Oh, sweet Jesus.

If there was something Claire was involved in that basically fucked over the MC.

I had grilled her on the way to the hospital. She had said over and over that she had had very little involvement in Jamie’s business. But that night she had tried to tell them that Jamie
had
the money. How had she known that? How would she have known anything at all about his money if she wasn’t involved?

Had my baby sister been able to look me straight in the eye and lie?

Had Diego come here last night for Claire?

I had driven her straight to the hospital, but the MC couldn’t have known that. And I had told them that she would be here with me. Or did I? I was getting so confused. Had he come to kill Claire and my fucked-up face played on his sympathy? What had Diego been doing in my house before I had come home? What had he been doing when I was getting sick, and I thought he was gone? Had he searched the house? Oh my God, did I talk in my sleep? Was Diego trying to find Claire right now to shut her up?

And that was me. On and on and on and on. For hours. Just like that.

Then out of nowhere, something banged hard against the screen door. I dropped to my knees and covered my head.

“My bad!” a familiar voice yelled out. “Missed again, Raine!”

Tommy Adams had overshot the morning paper.

I let out a rush of air and rose unsteadily to my feet.

Wait, what? I looked at the clock and it was seven a.m. I had been so deep in thought, so worried and filled with fear and despair, I had sat in my own darkness long after the sun had come up.

I could see no way of getting us out of this one. Claire was safe for now. No visitors for the first twenty-eight days of rehab. But what about after that?

And what if they came for me? They must have wanted something instead of the thirty grand, or they never would have left it. When would the Hells Saints come for whatever that was?

I had nothing more to give them.

I had nothing more.

I had nothing at all.

Not even a friend.

That place is for a time when things are so dark that you cannot see the light coming through. That place is what we call a game changer, sweetheart. That means if there comes a time when you need that place, everything about your life will have to change because you know it just is not safe for you and Claire to be in it anymore. If and when that happens, you come find me.

It had been twenty years since I had heard those words. In that time a whole lot of stuff had happened that had brought the dark raining all over Claire and me. That dark had been the stormy deep gray of a funnel cloud. The kind of dark that came with a warning bell. I had always been able to pull us back out of its oncoming path. I had always been able to move us towards the light at the end of it.

The stuff that was heading towards us now was thick and heavy. It enveloped us, blotting out the sunshine and making it hard to breathe. I was lost in it. The more I tried to get us out, the more tangled we became. Or maybe I just couldn’t see it for what it was. Either way it covered us and was waiting to claim us. The deep dark cloak of the Grim Reaper was approaching. I was running out of time.

Game changer.
When Prosper warned me against that, I had been eight years old and had my whole life ahead of me. He was assuming that I would one day have something worth holding on to. I looked around me. Five rooms filled with a life that was not my life. We had inherited the house and all that was in it. I hadn’t as much as put up a picture. Everything I owned could fit into a single big suitcase.

Shit, it was still such a big step. I didn’t even know if Prosper was still alive. But I knew if I used that address, we would get help. No matter what. Since all this shit was coming from a chapter of his club, there was a good chance that this could be sorted out.

Still. Big Step.

I sat down at the kitchen table to pour myself a cup of coffee and knocked the newspaper off the table. I bent to pick it up and saw the front page:

LOCAL TALENT KILLED IN HOME INVASION

After a call was placed to 911 reporting a disturbance at the home of former minor league pitcher Jamie Ryan, he was treated by paramedics at the scene. Ryan was later pronounced dead at Point General Hospital. Robbery is the suspected motive.

I scanned the article looking for the date. There it was. He had been alive when we left him. I didn’t know how badly he had been hurt though. Had they gone back and beaten more out of him? Oh my God, did they find out that Claire knew something? I felt sure that’s why Diego had come back to the house. He was going to murder Claire because of something that rat bastard Jamie had told him.

I knew it.

I just knew it.

Him leaving that money was what that was.
Payment of a different color.
He had tried to warn me that night. Something about my sister and me had made him pity us for maybe just long enough for me to get us safe from this. Maybe.

Oh my God. They had killed Jamie. They were coming back to kill us.

I grabbed my one big suitcase and packed it full of everything that I owned. I threw on a pair of worn button-fly jeans and a light-blue tee shirt. I pulled a brush quickly through my hair, avoiding the tender parts, and let my hair hang freely down my back. A pair of short black motorcycle boots were too heavy to pack so I wore them. Any attempt to cover the bruises on my face with makeup would be pointless and just look garish. However, I hadn’t left the house without mascara and eyeliner since I was eleven years old, so I gave myself a minute. I took a map from the drawer and a beer from the fridge. I stuck aviator sunglasses on my head and car keys in my pocket. Then I walked out of my life and locked the door firmly behind me.

CHAPTER 12

M
inutes after Diego left Raine, he hit the road. He had business that needed to be taken care of. Besides, he needed some time and distance to sort this out. He had held her in his arms half the night, for fuck’s sake. Really. He shook his head and tried to clear it.

He could still smell her. Everything about her smelled clean and good. He loved the feel of her thick dark hair. It had been unexpectedly soft and full when he buried his hands in it. None of that sticky hairspray shit for her. Her eyes were a deep blue except when she was afraid or in pain, then they had turned almost violet. She was all woman, that was for sure. Soft and warm with long, slim legs and full breasts. She was a fucking beauty. When a woman like Raine entered a room, conversation stopped.

Not Diego’s usual type. He liked his women on the trashy side. He liked them in tight pants and tall heels. Hair teased out to
there.
He liked them with lots of tits, lots of ass, and lots of attitude. The kind of woman that you “rode hard and put away wet.” The kind that gave as good as she got. The MC called the kind of women Diego took to his bed “band-aids.” They were cheap, came in all sizes and shapes, got the job done, and were disposable.

He had been hitting a fine little band-aid at his home chapter. Her name was Ellie, and there wasn’t a soft thing about her. He wasn’t big into sharing, so when he was around for a while, she was his. He had no idea who she was doing when he wasn’t around, and he didn’t give a shit. She worked every angle, any time she could, to corral him in. Because they were not that and never would be, Diego didn’t put up with her trying to claim him. When she pulled that jealous bullshit once, she hadn’t been invited back into his bed for a very long time. Diego knew the other women didn’t like her much, and with good reason. For them being invited into Diego’s bed was a win-win. First part being obvious, second causing Ellie to go crazy green with jealousy.

But she had a willing mouth and could go all night. She was just the right amount of sass. Diego knew she had a crazy mean streak, but he really didn’t give a shit. Ellie would be waiting for him at the club when he got there. She was always good for a mindless go at it, and that’s exactly what he needed. Maybe some good mindnumbing slamming would help to get his head out of his ass about Raine. Because the farther away he rode, the more he realized that getting involved with her would be a mistake. Men like Diego didn’t become involved with women like Raine. Women like Raine scared the fuck out of men like Diego. Women like that required an all-in kind of loving. Women like that were worth it.

He took his time going south and enjoyed the ride. He thought best when he was on the road. He certainly had a lot to think about. His brothers were glad to see him when he finally arrived. After getting down to MC business, Diego had a good night. Both the news and the green he delivered were well received and cause to party big. Diego worked hard to drink Raine away. Ellie, sensing his mind was elsewhere, worked to keep Diego’s attention on her. Knowing what it took to keep him sated and satisfied, Ellie gave Diego hours and hours of mind-blowing, very dirty sex. She could sense something was different. Although she knew he didn’t like it, she couldn’t stop herself from holding on tight to him the next day. Diego didn’t seem to mind. That should have made her happy, but instead warning bells were going off in her head.

Later, Diego felt Ellie’s tits push against his arm as he drew a card from the deck. Normally, it wouldn’t be happening. He had strict rules about that PDA shit from her. But he figured he owed her. She had literally fucked him raw. He was feeling pretty content. He had a pocket full of green, a belly full of some kickass chili, a cold beer on the table, and he was winning at poker.
Hell
, he thought to himself,
I got this.
He had almost convinced himself he had forgotten what Raine even looked like.

Diego had just drawn a royal flush. Yeah, things were definitely starting to look up. It felt good. Simple. Domestic beer, uncomplicated pussy, and a friendly card game with his brothers. He took a long swallow from the cold bottle. Amidst good-natured groans, Diego pulled the winning chips towards him. He grinned as he started to deal out the next hand. As he casually glanced towards the door, the cards froze in his hand, and a look of total disbelief crossed his face.

Raine Winston had just walked through the clubhouse door of the South County Chapter of the Hells Saints MC.