Saving Rain(71)

“So, Soldier,” Stormy began, folding her arms against the table and ignoring the pizza on her plate, “how long exactly were you locked up?”

“Just a little less than ten years,” I answered without hesitation before taking a bite full of pepperoni, sauce, and cheese.

Her thin, tattooed brows lowered with suspicion and guarded curiosity. “You were behind bars for a freakin' third of your life? How does that not royally screw someone up?”

“Oh my God, Stormy!” Ray exclaimed from beside me, turning her attention to her older sister. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Stormy shrugged. “And I'm over here, wondering how you've never considered you could be sleeping with a psychopath.”

Noah was quick to come to my defense with a, “Soldier is not a friggin’ psychopath,” as his mother and grandparents all gawked at the big-mouthed goth sitting across from me.

But I didn't react in the way I knew she was looking for. If she was trying to shake me, I wasn't going to let her.

Chris, their father, who had only just met me that morning, let his hand fall to the table with a resounding thunk. “Stormy, knock it off right now. Soldier is a guest in this—”

“It's fine, sir,” I cut him off, holding up a palm to stop him from continuing to scold his daughter, who I felt had every right to come to her sister's defense. I turned to Stormy with the same stern glare that she held on me, but instead of cold and bitter, mine was—I hoped—warm and assuring. “I promise I've passed my psych evaluations. So, no, I’m not a psychopath.”

She slowly lifted the slice of pizza from off the plate, never taking her eyes off me. “Right. That's exactly what a psychopath would say.”

“Yeah, probably,” I agreed with a resigned nod. “But would a psychopath offer to show you those records? Because I could get my hands on them, if you—”

“Oh my God!” Ray swatted my arm with the back of her hand. “You’re not showing her anything. She’s just being stupid.”

Before anyone else could say anything, Barbara, Ray's mother, put a cork in the conversation by asking her daughters how work was going in their respective fields. Stormy worked at a tattoo shop up in Salem as the resident body piercer, and I snagged the opportunity to warm her up by asking if she could get me any kind of discount.

She snorted at the question and gestured toward the old, faded tattoos on my arms. “Why? You wanna cover some of that crap up? Or do you just need someone to put some new holes into your body?”

I laughed. “Both.”

She pursed her lips, continuing to study me with that ice-cold stare, before nodding. “We could probably work something out, if you wanted to take the trip up to Massachusetts.”

Ray smiled at her sister's hesitant turn toward more friendly territory. “Maybe we could take a long weekend up there soon.” She curled her arm around my bicep. “I mean, if you can get the time off work …”

“Yeah, I'm sure Howard wouldn't mind giving me a weekend off. I haven't called out of work since I started.”

Stormy was slow to smile, but there it was, daring to peek through her rock-solid exterior. “Let me know, and I'll talk to the artists at my shop. I'm sure Blake or Cee could squeeze you in somewhere if you give me enough of a heads-up.”

The mood was lightened then when it was determined that the three of us would take a little road trip up north to visit Stormy—something Ray had apparently never done in the years since her sister had moved away from Connecticut. I assumed it had something to do with her being a single mother needing to work a full-time job with little downtime to do things like take vacations and visit her big sister—until I walked out of the house after dinner to stare out toward the cemetery across the street.

Stormy followed. “Hey.”

I turned to look down at her, startled by how short she actually was when her toughened demeanor had the ability to look me straight dead in the eye.

“Oh, hey.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against one of the wooden posts holding the roof over our heads. “Look, I'm sorry for being such a bitch.”

“It's cool.”

“No, it's really not, but okay.” She chuffed and turned her attention to the headstones behind a wrought iron fence. “My sister doesn't have the best luck with men. I don't know how much she's told you, but—”

“I know enough,” I muttered through a jaw that immediately pulsed with anger and hatred toward a guy I knew wasn't far from where I stood.

Where are you now, Seth?

Are you with Levi? What about Mom?

Do you know I'm right here, practically in your backyard?

I dare you … I dare any of you to show up and ruin this shit I have now. I fucking dare you.

Stormy grunted and nodded. “Yeah, so you understand why I was a little skeptical when she announced she was bringing home an ex-con to meet the family.”

“I absolutely do.”

“And here's the other thing.” She repositioned her combat boots against the wooden floor. Crossing one leg over the other, locking her arms tighter against her body. “I remember when that guy died. I remember when they arrested you. I was there. Rain wasn't, but I was. I saw it all happen.”