Page 69 of Saving the Rain (Crimson Ridge #4)

So here I am, in my little bubble. With cows and horses for company until things clear a little and the weather settles.

Once the forecast looks good for a few days in a row I’ll ride out and check some of the fences and further parts of the ranch for any damage.

But today all I need to do is the basics and make sure all the animals are safe, with access to food, water, and shelter.

Winter has a strange sort of rhythm to it. Up here, you’re at the mercy of the elements, so much more so than down in Crimson Ridge, with the extreme of added altitude to contend with. So you can make plans, you can prepare your ass off, but ultimately you just gotta play the hand you get dealt.

Sometimes, it’s a royal flush, a winning streak to leave you grinning from ear to ear, and at other times, it’s one that makes you immediately want to fold.

Right now, it’s not the ranch making me feel that way. It’s the messages waiting for me in my inbox. An email address I wish hadn’t made an appearance, and yet here she is, once again.

I hurriedly scan the contents of her email.

Apologies and flurries of chaos from her life.

She was discharged from the hospital straight away; somehow, the doctors who evaluated her didn’t consider her to be a risk—they never do.

And it’s no big surprise she’s once again turned up asking for something .

The cycle she’s stuck in keeps on repeating itself.

I’m fucking done.

I keep thinking about that night and how strong Raine was for me. He made it seem possible to actually have a life for the first time, one that exists beyond all the ways she continually keeps on trying to wreck mine. The days of her dragging me into her mistakes are over.

As I read her email again, my skin feels a flush of warmth.

It’s almost like his hands are holding me tucked against his chest, just as he did on the couch that night when I was a fucking mess.

I feel him stroking my hair in that gentle and tender way he does.

A careful touch that seems impossible for a man like him, who is so gritty and rough around the edges.

There’s a soft rumble, a vibration of his voice; even though I can’t hear the words exactly, I can feel the energy of him giving me the strength to do what I should have done years ago.

I start typing.

Mom, I’m going to help you this final time, but it’s not what you’ll expect from me. Or, maybe, it’s what you’ve been begging me for this whole time, and I just couldn’t hear your cry for help.

I apologize for giving you money last time. I should never have done that. The guilt I feel for what happened is something I really struggle with, but this time I will do the thing we should have done in the first place.

I’m booking you into a rehab facility. The details are attached. I’m gonna send a car and a driver to pick you up tomorrow. It’s up to you whether you take this step for yourself, but this is the last thing I’m going to do.

I love you. I wish you the best of luck with getting clean. But I can’t keep picking up the broken pieces of your addiction.

A shaky exhale leaves my lungs as I press send straight away. The information that she needs is attached. With the help of my therapist, we had already put together a plan for what I would do if this very moment reared its ugly head again.

So here I stand, doing the hard, uncomfortable thing, and the relief I feel is immense.

What takes me by surprise is that she responds straight away. I didn’t expect an immediate reaction, if at all, in all honesty. If anything, I fully anticipated to discover tomorrow that she had disappeared, or turned down my offer, or never arrived at the facility.

God, no. Kayce, please understand it wasn’t your fault. I promise, I didn’t do anything with that money you sent, except to use every cent of it to pay back the debt.

Ezekiel gave the pills to me. He handed them to me, and I took them because I’m always too weak to say no. I’m not well, and you’ve given me an incredible gift, you have no idea.

I’ll go tomorrow. I will.

This is more than I deserve, and I wish I could hug you right now, Kayce. Those pills are my personal hell, and I never did enough to protect you when you were younger. Not like Raine did. I’m so sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you in your life.

The sight of his name is like a beacon. A burst of light that obliterates anything else. I hardly notice all the other lines of text my mom has written. What does she mean? My entire chest tightens as my fingers type a reply so fast I fumble over nearly all the letters.

What are you talking about? What did Raine do?

God. She takes forever to reply. I’m chewing my thumbnail, pacing up and down the kitchen with my phone in hand.

Each time the screen dims, I tap to keep it awake, eyes fixated like a hawk on the space where a notification will drop down.

Please. Please. Don’t let her wander off and not continue what she was saying .

All those cuts, the bruises. It was awful to see every time.

He was so determined to keep us safe that he used to provoke Ezekiel before he got to the house.

My heart is pumping so hard that it feels as if the entire thing climbs straight out of my chest. I’m growing more and more dizzy as I hit reply.

Mom. What the fuck are you talking about?

I need you to be straight with me. What did Raine do?

—

It seems impossible that such a good kid came from a terrible man.

I’m so sorry I ever married him, and that I stayed.

Raine didn’t want us getting hurt, so he used to make sure he took the beatings.

Made sure we would be left alone. Then, when he was old enough, once he was bigger than his father, he made sure to turn it back on Ezekiel.

Threatened him to never touch either you or me again before he moved out.

God, it was so long ago now. He was only a teenager when it all happened. I remember it was sometime around when you fell and broke your wrist.

My body slumps down the front of the kitchen cabinets until I reach the cold floor. The back of my eyes sting as I struggle to read through my blurry vision.

All the times Raine came home a mess.

All those nights, his face was cut to shreds.

All the black eyes. Split lips. Bruised cheekbones.

I thought he’d been fighting other teenagers. This whole time, he led me to believe that he’d been some angry guy getting into scraps just for the hell of it.

When the truth is that he’d been using himself as a shield. He put his body on the line time and time again.

A wave of nausea threatens to consume me.

No wonder he didn’t want to stick around. He’s already sacrificed so much for me. Raine has been there to protect me in ways I didn’t even know or understand—doing it all in secret.

Maybe this is all I deserve, to follow in my dad’s footsteps and spend years up here in isolation. At least that way, I can’t hurt anyone anymore. I can’t hurt him further if I stay here and leave him alone.

Sinking my fingers into my hair, I tug on the strands until it stings.

I miss him, and I ache for him, and I’m so in love with him.

With shaky hands, I open the messages I’ve sent, my insides feeling torn to pieces.

I’m contemplating deleting everything. To fully erase all those pathetic attempts to tell him how I feel because I want him to have a future that isn’t contaminated by my poison.

No. Oh god. By the time I get there, it’s too late. The blood drains from my face. He’s read all the messages I sent, yet there’s no reply. Of course, there’s nothing because I’ve been a goddamn burden on his life ever since our worlds first collided.

Except, I see something new. Raine has posted a new image on his page—the first one in who knows how long... at least a year, maybe more.

And it’s us. It’s our photo. His tattooed hand covering mine, with our fingers interlocked and resting on top of the bedsheets.

Beneath it sit five words that rob me of every breath and bring my heart stuttering to a halt, clattering against my ribcage.

“Never not obsessed with you.”