Saving Rain(113)

“You have to wake up,” I instructed, digging through the sheets on the top shelf and finding Grampa's gun.

“What? Why? What's wrong? Is it No—”

“Seth's here.”

And as if the psychopath could hear me utter his name, I heard his thunderous footsteps clomping against the porch next door.

He was coming.

Ray bolted upright in bed. “What?”

“Seth is here,” I repeated, checking the barrel to find the chamber loaded.

Thanks, Grampa.

“Oh my God, Noah!” Her voice was shrill, and I urged her to be quiet.

“Keep your voice down,” I ordered, whispering as I hurried to her side. “Noah is fine. I got him out. He's going to be okay.”

Please, God, let him be okay.

Without another word, I hauled her out of the bed and positioned her in the corner, wedged between the dresser and nightstand. I pulled her down to crouch against the wall and pressed the gun to her palm.

“Take this.” I positioned her hands around the grip.

At the feel of the cool metal in her grasp, her breath quickened with the rapid ascent of her panic. “What? N-no, Soldier. I-I can't. I-I d-don't—”

“He has a gun, Ray.”

“Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God …” She trembled violently.

“Ray. Take a deep breath. Try to calm down.”

“You t-take this!” she hissed in a loud whisper through the tears streaming down her face. “I-I-I c-can’t …”

“No.” I shook my head. “I'm a convicted felon on probation. If I fire a gun and I happen to get out of this shit alive, I'm done. And I'm not going back to prison. I'm with you, or I'm nowhere at all, okay? So, you're going to sit here, and you're not going to leave this room.”

The crack of splintering wood came from outside, and I stood, peering through the window. Seth had begun to climb the stairs, only to be stalled by the crumbling of the step I had never fixed.

“Holy shit,” I uttered in a breathless whisper, unable to wrap my head around the coincidence.

You don't have time for this. Move.

“I'm going to lock the door,” I told her, moving backward away from the window, watching as Seth struggled to free his leg. “You do not open it, no matter what you hear. And if someone comes in, you shoot. Do you understand?”

“Soldier, I-I can't do this—”

“Tell me you understand, Ray.” I grabbed the baseball bat from beside the closet door.

“O-oh God,” she sobbed, struggling to regain control of her breathing.

“Tell me, baby.”

She sputtered on another sob before forcing one, two slow, controlled breaths. I couldn't see her from where I stood. That was a good thing, as far as Seth and his murderous intentions went. But I wished I could see her. I wished my eyes could find hers to show her the startling calm I felt. To show her I wasn't afraid, and if I wasn’t afraid, there was no reason for her to be.

“Rain.”

She pulled in a deep breath through her nose, and then she said, “I-I understand.”

“Okay.” I nodded to the darkness and held the doorknob in my hand, flicking the lock. “Remember, stay in here. No matter what you hear.”

I began to close the door behind me when she said, “Soldier, wait.”

“Yeah?”

A resounding bang came from the direction of the front door. The sound of splintering wood followed.

He was trying to get in.

It wouldn't be long now.

“I-I love you. I love you s-so much.”

My composure had been held; my guard had been up. But at the sound of her voice professing her feelings in the dark, the broken sound of her heart fracturing under the weight of her fear, it was almost enough to make me falter. To make me second-guess my decision to hold him off for as long as I could before the cops could reach us.

“I love you too,” I said as another loud crack broke through the night and the front door swung open.

I shut the door before she could say anything more.

Seth's heavy footsteps moved slowly through the dark living room as I made my way down the hallway, alerting him of my presence the moment I entered the open space between the kitchen and living room, where he stood.

Lightning flickered through the windows to illuminate his wicked smile. “Soldier.”

“Seth.”

It felt like a showdown from an old Western movie. The sides of good and evil facing off with only several feet of space between them. Neither of us moved from our positions as my grip tightened around the bat and his fingers flexed around the pistol in his hand.

“Where's my son and Rain?”

“Is that really who you came for?” I inquired doubtfully.

His chuckle was humorless as he tipped his head back to face the ceiling. “Well, yeah, I did come for them. But if you're asking if I'm here for you too”—he nodded, dropping his chin to look at me again—“then the answer is yes.”

My jaw pulsed. “Your beef is with me, not them.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, it is. And do you know why?”

“Tell me, please.”

He held the gun up, pointing it directly at my chest, and even as my heart sped up, I didn't let him know it.