Page 90 of As the Rain Falls (Sainte Madeleine #1)

PAINTED WITH WATERCOLOR

Cassandra

I ride for what feels like hours.

I ride until my thighs burn and my throat tightens around a lump I can’t swallow. There’s something about moving my body that makes me feel like I might be okay once it all comes down. If I stop, I’ll just freak out again. It’s better to keep going until I crash.

The wind combs through my hair as I make my way around town, thick and always so humid, sticking to my skin.

“I hate this town,” I whisper to myself, quiet and exhausted. “I hate… I hate everything about it.”

In my eyes, Le Port could be painted with watercolor.

I see dots of blue and green and bright yellow bleeding into one another even if my blurred vision.

It’s a beautiful place, with bits of nature here and there, sand always being carried by the breeze.

I hate that I’ve never enjoyed being born here very much, never felt part of that beauty. Le Port feels like a prison to me.

Did Lucia think the same, too?

Did she hate this town as much as I do?

I go to the places I’ve known since childhood, retracing my earliest steps, gluing the pieces back together. It gives me perspective to watch people going on with their day, completely unaware that I’m falling apart.

I look back on every memory Caleb and I shared together, dissecting them no matter how unmemorable it all was. I didn’t love him, not even a little, but I wanted him. Or maybe I just wanted to be wanted. And all things considered, maybe I’m a little fucked up in the head for thinking like that.

Maybe every boy who comes my way right now, no matter what they do or how much I try, will only lead to heartbreak.

I could never be in a normal relationship, not without a lot of work and effort. And no one wants to do that, not with a girl who’s so washed up like me.

Beckett would , a sad voice whispers back.

I bury it deep inside, not allowing that innocent thought to take root.I don’t deserve him. I don’t deserve him anymore, just like I don’t deserve anything good. Not anymore. Not after becoming what I’ve become.

***

By the time I reach my house, it’s late.

Port des Ondes is quiet; the streets are empty. Not even the breeze is here to keep me company anymore.

The worst feeling starts to bloom in my chest as I stare at it for too long, making my heart throb so bad. Immediately, I know that nothing good will come from me walking inside.

And while I desperately want company, the only person I want to talk to right now isn’t available. Beckett isn’t home. All the lights are out. When I knock on the door, no one answers. Not even Pepé.

I’m stuck. I have nowhere else to go tonight, not if I don’t want to deal with another guy wanting to take something from me I’m not willing to give.

Nothing could convince me to have sex right now.

Nothing can convince me to have sex again .

I need to stop doing it.

I don’t want it, not anymore.

Quietly, I make my way back home, bracing myself for the worst. Once I’m finally inside, I drop my keys into our apple-shaped key holder. The sound of the radio hums from upstairs. Dad must be asleep by now, and the thought isn’t comforting.

“Cassandra?” Nathaniel’s voice echoes quietly in the dark.

I hesitate before taking a step towards the living room.

The floor creaks under my weight.

“What?”

“How was school?” He asks.

I smile humorlessly.

Are we really doing this now?

“Great.”

My brother hums, eyes glued to the television screen. A soccer game is about to end, small white numbers flashing across the bottom of the screen, next to our family pictures.

I check the score quickly by narrowing my eyes.

Our local team is losing two to one.

“You’ve been God knows where all afternoon while we were dealing with your bullshit.” He sighs, pretending to be tired. “The academy called. Your little stunt is about to cost Dad his job.”

I inhale deeply.Nathaniel makes this sharp sound with his tongue in response before taking a sip out of his drink. The smell of whiskey burns my nostrils.

“He won’t lose anything,” I reason, knowing it won’t be that simple to fire him. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“They’re thinking of giving it to Mrs. Yun of all people,” he emphasizes. “She’s the one fixing things, apparently. Not that you seem to care about who’s cleaning up your mess, of course. I think you forgot who pays Grandma’s bills after all.”

I roll my eyes. “It wasn’t my fault!”

“Stop trying to find excuses!” he snaps. “That’s all you do!”

Is it?

“What do you want from me?” I find myself breaking, yelling back. “If I can’t apologize or explain myself, what more do you want?”

What more does he want?

Haven’t I given him enough?

I’m being left with nothing.

Scared and nauseous, I make my way to the living room, unsure of what to say next. My brothers sees me leaning against the doorframe, pats his lap, and asks me to sit down. A silent request that has me shaking my head.

“Come here,” he asks and waves a hand at me, coaxing me in the same way he used to do when I was a little girl. “Sit.”

Finding myself unable to say no out loud, I go for the next best thing.

“Pepé is waiting for me next door,” I lie. “Beckett told me to go pick him up.”

Nathaniel exhales through his nose, and a low chuckle follows.

“Pepé?” He tilts his head, sounding amused. “Pepé can wait, Cassandra. I can’t. You know that.”

You know that.

The silence stretches between us, and my heartbeat starts to speed up. My brother drops the beer against the floor, hesitating before standing up. Another silent beat goes by before he takes a step forward.

I immediately bolt, running to the kitchen.

It’s one of these moments where my brain finally snaps right before I go limp, the last bit of fighting in me kicking in, knowing there’s not much else I can do but wait for him to be done with me.

Whatever happens, happens, right?

He follows me, his steps harsher, dominating. I pull one of the chairs, trying to place it between us, and reach for the counter. My hands grab a random newspaper, finding Lucia’s portrait on the front page, and her smile burns me.

I push the dirty cups, Nathaniel’s car keys, and his old computer to the floor before I look back again.

He is coming for me.

He is getting close.

I get to the sink and reach for a dirty knife we forgot to wash, but my brother pulls me backwards, grabs me by the hair, fingers tangling and scratching my scalp.

“No!”

My fingers close around nothing, and I let out a scream.

“You want to kill me, Cassandra?” he laughs close to my ear, arm around my neck, strangling me. “After everything I did to keep us together?”

My mind splinters, flashbacks of Lucia’s body being dragged by the police, cold and lifeless. They couldn’t even expose her lower half at her funeral. Her legs and part of her arms were cut, completely destroyed by all the wreckage.

Nathaniel was part of the rescue team.

He was the one to make the call.

He was the one to claim to have found her.

Nobody connected the pieces together.

They had no reason to.

But I can’t help but ask myself every night before I go to sleep the most obvious question: how long did he take to call for help while trying to make sure she was no longer breathing?

“Let me go!” I struggle, trying to turn around to scratch him. His other hand circles my neck, and I start choking as I’m dragged back to the living room. “Stop!”

Nathaniel shakes me up, forcing me to stop scratching his hand. “Sit down!”

I obey, wanting him to let me go. He watches me as I try to catch my breath, coughing compulsively.

“I’ll… I’ll scream!” I promise. “If you take off my clothes, I’ll scream! Everyone will find out. Everyone will know!”

Nathaniel laughs, amused. “You’ll scream?”

He leans over me, his mouth pressing a kiss against the side of my face as he adds, his breath hot, choppy lips moving against my sensitive skin.

“Go ahead, Cassandra.”

I glance at my feet hopelessly, my hands curling into tight fists that I try to throw at him. I haven’t done my nails in weeks. I’m unkempt, unraveling. All the pieces of me are scattering far away from each other, and I have no one to pick them up.

“Come on, scream!” he yells and nudges me against him, taunting me. “What? Scared no one will come to save you? Are you going to cry?”

I do start crying.

Loud, choppy sobs. My life is a mess. My life is a nightmare. No one should be put in a position where they have to save me. I know I’m supposed to do it myself, but how can I? How can I put myself back together when everything hurts?

He’s just so much stronger than I am. I feel his grip tightening around my neck again, the oxygen escaping me. It’s the most terrible feeling in the world.

I want to die.

I just want to die.

“Thrilling.” He pulls me back again. “Look at you.”

“You’re sick!” I cough, my arms dropping to the sides of my body, spit dripping down my chin. “You’re so… so sick!”

“No, Cassie. I’m just so fucking bored of you,” Nathaniel murmurs, sounding lost in thought now that he has me where he wants me to be. “At least, Lucia knew how to make things entertaining.”

I flinch, trying not to think about what he means by that. I was not the only person my brother was playing games with. Of course, I wasn’t. I’m not even good enough to protect her, to keep him away from anyone else he can hurt.

“But we’re going to watch this movie together, and I’ll feel better.”

You’re hurting me , I want to say.

“And after that, we’re going to have a talk, you and I. Okay? I’ll fix you right up.”

“No. No, Nathaniel, I didn’t mean to—” I freeze, feeling his hands move to the top of my head, petting my hair softly. “I’m so sorry!” I start to cry softly. “Please, don’t hurt me! Please, I said I’m sorry!”

“Not yet, you’re not.”

My brother breathes out, and that’s when I notice his pupils again, how dilated they are. He’s high, but it’s not just that. His behavior is different this time, more explosive than ever before. His hands are shaking, fingers pulling violently as he grabs me a little tighter.

“But you will be.”

Nathaniel is going to kill me tonight.

My voice, whatever was left of it anyway, dies in my throat. The Matrix is now playing on television.

“Pay attention, okay?” Nathaniel leans back against the couch, yanking me towards him. “The next scene is a really cool one.”