Page 5 of As the Rain Falls (Sainte Madeleine #1)

THE PRETTIEST BOY IN TOWN

Cassandra

Beckett moves fast to make sure the heater is on. We rub our hands together until the tips of my fingers are no longer so cold, and I try not to think about the way his cheeks are so flushed. Next, he pulls a jacket from the backseat, and gently places it on my shoulders.

I just stare and watch as he opens the glove box and grabs a few napkins.

“Are you okay?”

I close my eyes shut, feeling the sting of the scratches on my knees. My ankle really hurts too, but I don’t want to make a big deal out of it. It’s not that serious.

“Yes.”

Beckett presses, “Cass?”

“I’m fine, really.”I answer, pushing my hair back and taking my sweater off, trying to cover my battered skin with it.

It takes him another second to react.

“Show me your wounds.”

Shit.

Something in my voice must’ve been too unconvincing.

“It doesn’t hurt, Becky,” I reassure him, shifting over the leathered seat. The fabric under me makes a squeaky noise, and I wince.“Shit!”

“Oh, really?” Beckett ignores my words completely. I watch him as he leans closer and pulls the sweater away from me. “Give me this!”

“Hey, that’s mine!” I gasp.

“Well, not anymore.” He tries to clean the blood dripping down my leg, but I take the napkin from him and wave him off. “You need to clean the scratches.”

“Can’t you see that I’m doing that, Dad?” I ask half-jokingly. Beckett looks away, almost embarrassed, and my stomach warms up.“Just kidding.”

Stupid, stupid girl who won’t ever shut up.

“No boots, really?”

“Couldn’t find them.” I shrug, not paying it any mind. “I can go to the nurse once we’re at school. I’m fine.”

My words are still not as reassuring as I want them to be. Beckett stops for a moment and stares at my knees, a conflicted look on his face. I don’t know what else to say besides thanking him for being so helpful.

“Thank you,” I start to speak. His blue eyes quickly flicker back to me, and I shoot him a soft smile, noticing how the color is a more muted tone today. The worry in his expression slowly fades away as I add, “For helping me out there and for driving me to school.”

His jaw clenches. “I can’t believe you didn’t knock.”

Beckett starts driving us out of Port des Ondes.I readjust the seat to my liking.He yawns.

The movement makes me want to stare at him for the hundredth time. His hair is slightly damp and curly, strands sticking to his forehead giving him a wet puppy look. I can also tell Beckett hasn’t slept much, or even at all, by looking at the dark circles under his eyes. Given the circumstances…

I mean, they were as close as twins. It was always just the two of them, by the looks of it.Lucia and Beckett.Beckett and Lucia. He probably really misses her. I know I would.

From the small brown birthmark on his neck to the bags under his eyes, he is beautiful without trying, but right now, he looks exhausted too. Her death is killing him.

“I just didn’t want to bother you,” I explain, smiling lightly and feeling shy. My fingers twitch with the urge to brush his hair back. “You shouldn’t be driving me to school, Becky.”

“Cass, please. It’s a twenty-minutes’ drive,” he scoffs sarcastically. “I’m definitely not going to lose my mind over taking time out of my napping schedule if I’m being of service to you, if you know what I mean.”

Touché.

“Thank you,” I agree as my smile weakens. “Again.”

“It’s my pleasure.” He shrugs and wets his lower lip, sounding earnest as he adds, “You know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” I pout, shifting my thoughts to something else than my brother and how he didn’t care. Beckett cared enough today, and I will be fine. “The weather is only getting worse, don’t you think? I heard it’s going to be raining all week on TV.”

The weather?

Really?

“Don’t even get me started on that.” He doesn’t miss a beat, enthusiastically jumping into whatever topic of conversation I seem to be bringing. Thank God. “It’s going to be a hell of a week at the farm.”

Beckett drives us through the main street, leaving the neighborhood. I start to press my fingers randomly over the radio, trying to find a working station. To my disappointment, not much is happening right now.

He smiles, “Please, check the Christian station.”

“No way, I think it might be gone.” I check. “Yep. No worship song for us.”

“I still can’t believe—” he yawns through his words. “They got a spot on national radio. Get the CDs.”

I turn my upper body to find the hidden box in the backseat of the car, where I know he keeps his CD collection. Beckett flashes the car’s high beam headlights over the road, muttering a curse under his breath when the wheels make a strange noise.

“I really have to check what this noise is,” he complains, while I’m still looking for the CDs. “I’m surprised they didn’t cancel all your classes.”

“I have Mrs. Yun today.”

I wet my lips, looking for my favorite album of the moment. Beckett grimaces at hearing the teacher’s name. Nobody likes Mrs. Yun, not even the golden boy.

“She’s not going to cancel her class just because there’s a little bit of rain coming down.”

“I hear that.” He nods in understanding. “Nathaniel overslept?”

The words are spoken so casually that I don’t think twice about answering it honestly.

“More like he got a little drunk last night.”

“Ah.”

“I’m really just kidding,” I start to lie, feeling embarrassed. “He doesn’t even drink that much.”

Beckett stays silent. I don’t know what else to say after that, so I focus on turning on the CD player. I place Rumors into the open space and press play, searching how to turn the volume up next. He lightly slaps my hand away, holding back a smile.

“Don’t mess with my system.”

The corner of my lips twitches as I speak up, “I’m not messing with your system.”

“You’re absolutely messing with my system, Rivera.”

Our fingers dance around, pushing each other away from the CD player or fighting their way back to it playfully. Beckett has a single dimple in his right cheek that pops when he grins.

It totally makes my stomach flip because I like him.I also really like the way he looks.The dimple just makes me like all those things more.Too bad he is totally out of my league.

“I’m stronger,” he brags, holding both my wrists with one hand.

“Or maybe your fingers are just bigger.” I raise my hands up, freeing myself from his grip. “My hands are super small!”

“Like doll hands, I know!” Beckett rolls his eyes. “Put them down! They-they freak me out!”

“You’re acting kind of like my personal bully, you know that right?” I ask, surprised at how he keeps his eye on the road, entirely focused on the task of driving us to Sainte Madeleine safely. And yet, his right hand takes hold of mine. “Hey!”

“Stop fucking with my sound system. It works.”

“It does not!”

Second Hand News starts playing.

I snap my fingers to the rhythm.

“I like this one,” I hum quietly. “Music deserves to be heard, Becky.”

“At a normal volume, yes. We don’t all want to ruin our sense of hearing,” he retorts, rolling his eyes dramatically. “And who even says the word ‘super’ anymore?”

I point to myself, faking offense.

“I do!”

He shakes his head, yawning openly.

“You know, I’m teasing you, right?” I make a confused noise in the back of my throat, and he shoots me a glance. “About the hands.”

“Oh. That.” I flip my hair back, getting in his space. “What? Do they not freak you out? Tiny fingers don’t show up in your nightmares as of late?”

“You’re so weird, Cassandra,” he scoffs, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at me. “The rumors are all right about you.”

“Oh!” I gasp dramatically, and the jacket falls down my back with the movement. “This was very corny, Becky.”

“So corny,” he agrees, eyes disappearing as he laughs.

“I’ll have to keep it between us.”

“Don’t want to ruin my reputation.”

Tilting my head back, I close my eyes and try hard not to snort but fail at it, “Something along those lines.”

Things are the easiest when I’m close to Beckett. He has an easygoing presence, truly. It saddens me that he lost someone he loves. The thought of Lucia completely sobers me up.I open my eyes again, watching as the dots of rain gather on top of the window.

“How are you holding up?”

“Do I really look that bad?”

I wince, “Well…”

“I’m fine, Cass.”

“I don’t like the use of the word fine,” I mention lightly, playing with my hair. “It’s way too simplistic.”

“And you’re a writer now?” He maneuvers the car through the gates, leading us out of the neighborhood. “Saying all this fancy shit to me.”

I flash him a knowing look. “Who else would I say fancy shit to?”

“Point taken.”

“And I might become one someday,” I add.

Beckett grins, making his dimple pop, “Sounds like you.”

I look down, smiling too.

“I know.”

Investigations are still ongoing, but I’m pretty certain they’ll rule it out as an accident.

The thing is, it was a gruesome one. If she hadn’t died from the shock of hitting her head against the window, coupled with being drunk, she certainly would have died from having her organs squeezed out, or something.

The front part of Lucia’s car got completely smashed when it hit the rocks at the bottom of the river. The depth of the water was simply too shallow to absorb the shock.

“Yesterday was her birthday and I don’t know how to feel about it,” Beckett admits. “But it’s no big deal.”

I try to think of something to say, anything comforting enough, but I don’t have any words. I’ve never lost someone, and my life isn’t complicated. Sometimes it’s better not to try too hard. I mean, I can’t relate to his pain right now, so I won’t pretend that I do just because.

“This all really sucks, doesn’t it?” I ask thoughtfully. I lean back against my seat, closing my eyes and breathing in the faint smell of leather. “Life really sucks right now.”

His answer takes some time to come out, and I gather that Beckett is considering which words to use. He does that sometimes. At least, it’s what I’ve noticed.

“It really d.. It does.”