Saving Rain(72)
My lips rolled between my teeth as I nodded slowly. It made sense. Stormy was around my age, and if you had grown up in this shithole of a town back in the day, you had either hung out at The Pit—may it rest in Hell—or you hadn’t gone anywhere at all.
“I got out of here that summer,” she explained. “After what happened, I knew I had to leave, or I never would. So …” She cleared her throat, as if to wipe away the past that would never truly leave any of us alone. “Anyway, when she told me she was spending time with you, you can see why I wasn't happy about it. Like, I had told her to take Noah and get the hell out of here, and she did, but then she goes and starts spending time with the freakin' guy who killed—”
My eyes darted toward hers, and she dropped her apologetic gaze to the porch floor.
“Sorry,” she quickly injected. “I know it wasn't on purpose. It's just … there's fucking … fucking Seth, and now … you …”
“Hey,” I said, not intending to sound harsh and menacing, but I did. Because … well, I guessed I didn't particularly appreciate being lumped together with a piece of shit who had to force himself on someone to get what he wanted. And when I had Stormy’s attention, I added, “I am not him.”
“No,” she replied, nodding as her triple-pierced bottom lip was clamped between her teeth. “I wasn't sure about that before, even after Rain told me what you had done for her … you know, back then …” Her gaze volleyed toward my scar, then back to my eyes. “But now, after actually meeting you, I see now.”
“See what?”
She cocked her head and stared at me like the answer was obvious before she replied, “That you might not have killed someone intentionally back then, but for her … you would in a heartbeat.”
***
Stormy was intense, and being in her presence was soul-sucking even if I did appreciate her company—especially after getting the conversation on the front porch out of the way. So, after a little time passed, filled with more conversation and dessert, I told Ray I needed to get some more air and thought I’d take a walk across the street to the cemetery. She offered to go with me and admitted she had enjoyed hanging out there when she was younger.
“The dead can't hurt anyone,” she said with a melancholy smile.
But even though I rarely turned down her company, I did then. Because truthfully, there was someone—an old friend—I wanted to see, and I didn't want anyone else to witness my collapse, in the event it happened while in his presence.
So, I walked across the street alone and remembered that night years ago when I'd dropped her off just a few houses down. I remembered thinking she was so young—”She's a fucking kid, you asshole.” Funny how a gap of a few years could matter so much when you were that young. Funny how it didn't matter now. Funny how I couldn't stomach the thought of wanting her then, but wanting her now filled more moments in my day than I could count.
But thoughts and images of want and desire vanished the second I passed through that wrought iron gate and into the cemetery I hadn't visited since shortly after my grandmother's death. I had wanted to see my grandparents' graves when I was younger, but the shame of what I'd been doing prevented me from stepping onto the hallowed ground. The fear of facing their disapproving ghosts had kept me away, and now, I walked past the row I knew they lay in and quietly apologized for not stopping.
“I've already seen you guys before,” I told them, as if they might be listening. “And I'll come back. I just have to do this first, okay? I just …”
The truth was, I didn't know where I was going. I hadn't thought to check the directory or ask anyone who might know. But I wandered, scanning the names on the headstones quickly as I passed. Hoping I'd stumble upon the one I was looking for before it got too dark to see without a flashlight—and there was no way in hell I was walking through a cemetery at night.
I could handle a lot of shit, but the thought of being alone and surrounded by dead people creeped me the fuck out.
A half hour quickly passed, and as I turned down another row of graves, I was growing more aware of the setting sun and the need to head back when my eyes fell on an unexpected ghost I should've been more prepared to encounter. But the way we both stopped in our tracks, the way those eyes widened with startled recognition when they landed on mine, and the way that hand pressed against a heart I was surprised to find still beating after all these years …
I didn’t think I could've been prepared for that.
I didn’t think I could've ever been prepared for the way my own heart skipped a thousand beats and my eyes stung and burned with a roaring stampede of desperate emotion as I urged my feet to not fucking run to her like a little boy would after being lost for too long.
“Soldier?” Billy's mom asked, surprised, stepping toward me with apprehension.
She hates you.
Don't forget, she hates you.
Don’t forget, she wished you were dead instead.
I wouldn't allow my feet to move as I stood there, frozen, at the start of the dirt path. “H-hey,” I stammered like an idiot. “Sorry, I-I …”
I didn't want her knowing I was looking for her son's grave. I didn't want her to be aware that I was about to desecrate his resting place with my presence, knowing damn well she'd never want me within fifteen thousand feet of it when I was the reason he wasn't here right now and living his life.