Read Saving Rain: The First Novel in The Rain Trilogy Online
Authors: Karen-Anne Stewart
One of the braver men leans on the bar next to her, “Can I buy you a drink, honey?”
Raina glances at her admirer who is looking everywhere at her but her face. She holds her hand up, letting him know that under no uncertain terms, whatever he is thinking about her will not be happening tonight. The man mutters something Raina is sure isn’t pleasantries as he gives her another lusty once-over and walks away, his ego tucked dejectedly between his legs. She turns her attention back to Mr. Sutton who has regained his composure and his glacial patent stare.
“Sweetheart, I think you might be a little too young to be in here.”
Raina inwardly gags at how the word ‘sweetheart’ sounds so nauseating coming from his lips, so polar opposite to how it sounds when Kas calls her that. “And, I think you are too old to be playing childish games,” she counters.
Sutton’s cold stare turns to blazing fire, “I have no idea what you are talking about, sweetheart, now show me your ID, or I’ll show you the door.”
Raina knows she has rattled him and has also gathered the attention of the patrons sitting nearby, which she uses to her advantage. “So, I see you have added stalking and damaging personal property to your repertoire. You’re a businessman, so let’s put this in terms that you will understand. You back off now, and I will let this go, all forgiven and forgotten, but if you don’t, then I will visit every single one of the establishments you own, bringing some of my friends who are very proud to display their badges and who love to ask lots of questions.”
Raina can tell by his bared teeth that he understands she is letting him know that two can play his game and that she is determined to come out the winner. “I’m betting that it won’t take more than a couple of nights before your friends no longer want to play with my friends and they go home, finding other establishments to provide their entertainment.”
The fury in his glare is practically tangible as he leans in close to her, hissing “Are you threatening me, you little witch?”
Raina holds his gaze, unwavering. “I never threaten, I find it demeaning,” she replies unnervingly calm. She sees one of the bartenders on the phone, looking her way. Realizing she probably only has minutes before the cops arrive, she doesn’t waste anytime mincing words, “The ball is in your court, Mr. Sutton, play nice, or I promise you won’t like the end score.”
The murderous glint in his eyes makes Raina fully aware that if the bar wasn’t between them, and there weren’t seventy or so witnesses, he would take immense joy in throttling her right now. She knows that she needs to back off and get out of there, but she is way beyond the point of caring, so unremittingly exasperated with men like him. She gives him a final warning glare as she turns to go before her bravado gives way, and her false sense of invincibility shatters.
“You deserved everything you got!” Raina hears Mr. Sutton yell after her, knowing he’s referring to Chris’ brutality, and her calm demeanor explodes to fervent vehemence. Spinning around, she grabs the fruity concoction out of the hand of the startled businessman who has been intently listening to their every word and throws the remaining liquid straight into Mr. Sutton’s face before she spins back around and storms out of the door.
There are two uniformed officers that meet her just outside, and her flaring temper starts to dissipate as the reality of what she just did sinks in. She has never done anything like that before, and part of her wants to jump up and down, pumping her arm victoriously in the air, but the other part of her feels ambivalent towards her actions. Looking into the serious faces of the officers, Raina can guess which part of her they are siding with right now.
Kas takes off his gun strap and places it inside the safe. He groans as he sheds his flannel shirt, his body aching from the tumble he had with the piece of slime, El Diablo. He’s bone tired and starving, his stomach growls, echoing his thoughts as he slides off his belt, tossing it over the back of the couch. He didn’t stay at Moe’s any longer than it took him to have half of one drink before laying a $100.00 bill down and telling his team to celebrate, but not too much, before he headed home. He’s beat and wants to take a hot shower. “Rain, I’m home,” he yells through the house but doesn’t get a response.
The house is too quiet, and there’s no delicious aroma wafting through the air, drawing him into the kitchen that usually welcomes him when he comes home. Checking his watch, he realizes Raina should’ve been home a half-hour ago. A sharp knock on his door interrupts his thoughts, and he rubs his tired eyes as he peeks through the side window to see a cop waiting on the other side, and his stomach does a free fall.
The officer shows his badge, then pulls a sheepish-looking Raina into view. Kas is wide awake now as he opens the door.
“We found her in a bar downtown. She was in a verbal altercation with the owner, and she’s underage,” the officer explains.
Kas glares at her, his eyes simmering with anger ready to boil at any moment. “The bar on Fifth?” he asks the officer through his teeth.
“That’s the one. When we talked with her outside of the bar, and she told me that she is consulting with the FBI, we didn’t haul her in,” he explains, then looks pointedly at Raina, “but no matter who you’re working for, you’re still underage, and that’s no place for you to be alone.” The officer turns his attention back to Kas, “She said she was going to catch a cab, but I told her I would drop her off here. It was a pretty heated argument, and I wanted to be sure she didn’t head back in there after we left.”
“I’ll take it from here, officer, thank you,” Kas assures him as he pushes the door open wider and jerks his head, silently demanding her to get inside.
Raina jumps at the sound of the door slamming behind her.
Kas storms towards her, his outrage at her dangerous stunt barely contained. “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?” he yells acidly as he closes in on her.
Her eyes shoot to Kas. His rage is palpable.
“You could’ve gotten yourself hurt!” he seethes. “For someone so smart, how could you do something so damn stupid?” he castigates while he tries to tame his conflicting emotions. He wants to set her down and give her the tongue lashing of her life, but mostly he wants to pull her into the safety of his arms and never let go.
Raina bristles at his sharp tone, “He let the air out of my tires.”
“And you thought you should go talk to him . . . . ALONE?” he fumes.
“I wasn’t alone, and it’s not like he could’ve done anything in a room full of people,” Raina retorts dryly.
“Did it ever occur to you that he could’ve followed you out?” he asks incredulously.
“Of course it did, I’m not an idiot, despite your obvious current opinion. I wasn’t going to just stay out in the dark on my own,” she replies, belligerence edging her words.
“So, what exactly was your plan, then?” he asks sarcastically.
Raina juts her chin out and shrugs. “I was working on one before officer Do-Little came along,” she spits out.
“You have a real smart mouth when you’re pissed off, you know that?”
Raina smells the faint scent of alcohol on his breath, and her subconscious instincts kick in, and she takes a step away from him. “We’ve both had a real crappy night, granted, yours I’m sure has been much worse than mine, so can we just talk about this in the morning?” her words rush out exhaustedly, and she turns to walk away, but he grabs her arm in a firm but gentle grasp.
“Don’t even think about walking away from me right now, Raina!” Kas warns her.
She feels his hand stopping her at the same time she sees the belt on the back of the couch, and she freezes.
Seeing the look of panic flash in her eyes, Kas follows her gaze to his belt. Without thinking, he grabs the belt and starts to toss it aside, wanting to remove anything that would cause her to fear him.
When Raina sees Kas grab the belt, the familiar sense of crippling dread seeps through her veins. Her stomach tightens, and a thin sheen of sweat breaks out on her skin. In the back of her mind, a war begins to wage between rationality telling her that Kas would never hurt her and her experiences from the past, but when she sees the anger on his face and the belt in his hand, her father’s words echo cruelly inside her head, ‘
You
deserve
this’
.”
Her heart shatters into a million tiny pieces, and for an instant, all rational thought ceases to exist, and she feels savagely empty.
“Oh no, baby, no!” Kas’ heart sinks when he sees her tense from fear. He swears at himself for being so stupid. He thinks of how she has come such a long way, holding her own when they’ve fussed in the past. He knows that he has never yelled at her like this before tonight and how foolishly grabbing the belt without explaining his intentions, would of course push her over the edge.
His breath leaves him just as if someone had punched him hard in the gut. His cheeks flame with anger at the men that caused her to fear like this. Unbearable grief swallows him at the realization that she still harbors fear that he might strike her. The thought nauseates him, he would sooner cut off his hand than use it to hurt her. He steps towards her, to comfort her, but she quickly takes a step back, the fear in her widened eyes nearly destroying him. The next emotion he witnesses literally causes him physical pain, searing his heart, as he sees her forlorn resignation, then dark, cold emptiness.
“Baby, no!” he pleads. “I’m not going to hurt you,” his tone is soothing as if he’s trying to calm a wild animal. “I’m simply removing things that make you nervous,” he continues to explain while tossing the offensive implement far to the side.
With the belt out of easy reach, Kas sees her body relax somewhat, and a spark of relief begins to warm her eyes. But he sees something else there, too . . . . confusion. “You thought that I was going to
punish
you,” he states bitterly, biting back disgust from what the understanding of that word must mean to her.
Her cheeks flame red again, and he’s sure it’s shame causing the scarlet flush. He fights the bile threatening to rise in his throat from her unspoken confession that
he
had elicited this kind of fear from her. He pulls her into his arms, desperately wanting to wash away all of her fear, her memories of pain and sorrow, to wipe the emotional slate clean, and show her how it is supposed to be. Red hot anger ignites in him when he feels her body trembling as he holds her in his arms. Guilt consumes him from his carelessness. His rubs his hands soothingly up and down her trembling back until her shaking starts to subside.
“Oh, baby, what did he do to you?” he whispers as he lays soft kisses against her hair. Kas continues to hold her, wishing he could show her his heart, prove to her that no matter how angry he gets, he would never cause her harm. Gently, he pushes her away from him and cups her face in his hands. He softly caresses her face with his thumbs as he promises, “I will
never
hurt you, not with my hands, not with a belt, not with anything else, nor will I
ever
want to.”
Raina struggles to regain her composure. As the marching band in her chest slows to a calmer pace, she pulls herself away.
Kas studies her face, his gaze sweeping over her with worry. “We’ve got to talk about this, Raina.”
At the sound of his words, she pulls herself together, slamming the door on her emotions. “No, you agreed to drop it.”
“I agreed to drop it for a while, Rain, but after what just happened, I can’t just let it go anymore.”
She shakes her head vehemently, “Yes, you can.”
He runs his hand through his hair, frustration starting to boil again. He shoves his hands in his pockets, desperate to keep from frightening her again. “I’ve been extremely patient waiting for you to talk to me, and, frankly, my patience has run out, Rain.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” she replies bitterly.
“The hell there isn’t!”
“Just drop it, Kas,” her words are a mixture of a plea and a demand.
Kas pulls his hand out of his pocket and runs the back of his fingers across her cheek, “Not this time.”
A sigh of frustration escapes her lips, and she turns away from him. “You’re just going to have to,” she whispers as she walks to her room, closing the door behind her.
As Kas stares at the closed door, he knows exactly what he has to do.
The next morning, Kas pulls Raina’s iPad out of his messenger bag, laying it on the table in front of Chase, “I’m running her prints.”
Chase looks at Kas like he’s lost his mind, “I thought you agreed to not go behind her back to get the answers.”
“Screw that! You didn’t see the way she looked at me last night, like I was going to beat the hell out of her,” Kas growls, nausea churning his stomach at the unpleasant memory. “I have to know who she is and what has happened to her.”
Chase gazes at the iPad, knowing that running her prints will be a betrayal of her trust, but he also knows that Kas is right. From what he has witnessed himself about Raina’s leeriness, and after hearing what Kas told him had happened when he called him over there late last night while she was sleeping, he knows that she hasn’t let go of her past yet, even though she has tried very hard to leave it behind.
“Are you prepared for the truth and for the possible repercussions when Raina finds out?” Chase asks Kas bluntly, wanting to be absolutely sure Kas knows what he’s doing before they take the next step.
“As ready as I will ever be,” Kas replies honestly.
“Okay then, I’m with you all the way.”
Kas nods his head appreciatively, knowing that Chase has his back, “Let’s do this.” He carefully lifts a print and runs it through IAFIS. Both men sit back, waiting and watching while the Improvision NPS2 does its magic.
Kas is a strong concoction of raw anticipation and utter dread as the information loads. As they read, both of their eyes widen in shock at the name that pops up, identifying Raina’s father.
Chase lets out a low whistle, “No wonder she didn’t want to talk.”
Kas runs his hands through his dark hair, his mind trying to wrap around the magnitude of the discovery that Raina’s father is none other than William Waterford, the most powerful lawyer on the East Coast, quite possibly the United States.
He and Chase spend the next half-hour reading over the sparse information they can find on Raina’s life prior to D.C. He jots down the address for Judge Whitaker’s office after seeing his signature for the grant of Raina’s emancipation. His office is only two and a half hours away, so Kas decides to pay him a visit.
After making arrangements with Chase for him to check in on Raina, Kas calls her, telling her that he has been called away to check on something. As he tells her bye, a twinge of guilt squeezes him, but he quickly banishes it, knowing that he’s doing this for her own good. Grabbing his coat, he heads out the door, wondering and worried about the information he will find once he arrives. He makes one other call as he heads to his car. When Pete, his friend in the local police department, answers he informs him of what happened between Mr. Sutton and Raina and how he had let the air out of her tires, “Do something now, Pete, or I will handle this myself!”
Pete assures him he will handle it, and Kas knows he’s a good man, so he backs off for now, giving Pete the chance to stop Mr. Sutton before he takes matters into his own hands.
The drive takes less time then he expected, thanks to the unusual lack of heavy traffic. Kas tightens his grip on the steering wheel as he rolls the jeep into a parking space, cutting the engine. Taking a deep breath, he tries to prepare himself for whatever information he may receive. If this were any other case, he could handle it with his usual adeptness at compartmentalizing, but this isn’t any other case, this is Raina,
his
Raina. Whether or not either one of them has openly admitted it, he knows she’s his, even if just by the sheer intensity of his love for her alone. He knows she cares about him, too, he has seen it in her reactions to him. He just hopes and prays that she loves him back, and loves him enough to forgive him for what he’s about to do.
Kas walks through the court house doors and places his gun and badge in the tray, handing it to the security guard as another guard checks his credentials before nodding him through. Hastily grabbing his badge and weapon, he heads straight for the elevator. The short ride to the fourth floor seems to drag on forever before it finally dings, and he steps out into an elegantly decorated lobby. He walks across the spotted burgundy carpet, through the lobby with gray and royal blue couches and chairs scattered throughout the room next to tables with vases filled with fresh, colorfully mixed flowers. He follows the hall to the stained oak door with the golden name plate that displays Judge Whitaker’s name. He steels his nerves as he raps his knuckles on the door.