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Opening the front door, the house is quiet—too quiet. Wandering through to the kitchen, I find Rayna’s juice cup and a plate of half-eaten banana on the table, and the back door open.
Innocent laughter comes from the yard, and I step out onto the patio to find Holly rolling in the grass, with Rayna trying to crawl after her.
Holly lands on her back, her chest rising and falling as she tries to catch her breath. Rayna laughs when she catches up to her and slaps her stomach. Her laughter has me smiling.
“Oh, no,” Holly gasps. “You caught me!”
Careful of her hands, she begins rolling away again, and their little game continues. Slumping into one of the garden chairs, I kick my foot up and dig out my smokes.
Content to watch them play, I picture Rayna playing like this with India. Mom and daughter. It’s not until Holly’s top rides up, revealing a tight, toned stomach, that my thoughts make me twitch. Inhaling sharply, I drop my foot from the chair and sit forward. I haven’t even seen another woman as anything but someone who was near me at any given time, let alone in a sexual way. A couple of the women at the club, mainly Zara, have offered numerous times to “make me feel better,” but every time, I turn them away.
Shaking it off, I stand and call out, “Time for dinner.”
I have no idea if I even have food in the fridge, but I can’t be out here any longer. Without using her hands, Holly uses her arms to lift Rayna, pulling her up to her chest.
“How long have you been standing there?” she asks when she’s closer.
“Not long,” I lie, taking Rayna from her.
* * *
I don’t try to sleep anymore. I lay in bed, stare at the ceiling, and wait till I don’t notice I’ve fallen asleep until I wake. If I try and close my eyes, all I see is India, but they’re all memories of the night she died.
I can barely remember how she felt in my arms. I no longer smell her perfume lingering in our bedroom. Her laugh doesn’t plague me. All I have is the terror in her eyes as she looked at me before she was shot in the head.
It’s my comeuppance, and I’m prepared to let it haunt me for however long I live. It’s my fault she’s gone, and I don’t care what anyone else says.
Screaming filling the house has me springing out of bed and reaching for my gun on the nightstand. I rush out into the hall, realising it’s coming from the room at the end I gave to Holly. Checking in on Rayna, who’s sleeping soundly, I close her door and make my way to Holly. The screams intensify when I step into the room to find her thrashing around on the bed.
The sheets are tangled around her legs, and I stop when it’s clear she’s sleeping in her underwear. I couldn’t give a shit about her modesty. I give a shit that she’s got me twitching in my fucking boxers again.
Rounding the bed, I nudge her arm until she breaks free of the nightmare she’s suffering through. Jerking away from me, she scuttles to the other side of the bed.
“You were screaming the house down. Luckily, you didn’t wake Rayna.”
“I–I’m so sorry. I…oh!”
Naturally, my eyes drop to her breasts, and when I meet her gaze again, she’s taking me in. I quickly step back.
“I dreamt I was back in the motel with the guy who burned my hands,” she says, tugging the sheet up her body as best she can.
“Tomorrow, I’ll drive you to your parents. You can pack some clothes, and whatever else you’ll need to stay here.”
She holds up her hands. “How will I explain these?”
“Burnt them while cooking? I don’t know. Just get in and get out.”
Heading for the door, I don’t stop when she calls my name. I need a cold shower.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Cas
The meds are pretty fucking good, but I can still feel the hot ache across my stomach. The docs wanted me to stay in for a couple more days for observation, but fuck that. I discharged myself, collected my meds, and got the hell out of there. Being told you died a couple of times kind of makes you want to get out and live your life, and my life is too busy to die again.
“Once we get you home, I’ll send Luca out to get supplies.”
“I’m not going home. I’m going to the club.”
