I tried to imagine the motive for Levi, and while I was only guessing, I suspected it likely had something to do with the death of his brother. Revenge perhaps. However, knowing Seth had been involved somehow—according to Levi—set a different tone. That changed things, and suddenly, that revenge seemed an awful lot like a message.
One directed at me.
“What are you up to?” I muttered to the minestrone, wiping a hand over my mouth and down my bearded chin.
But the minestrone couldn't answer for Seth. None of the soups could, and neither could I. But all I hoped was that the cops got their hands on him before he got his hands on anyone else.
***
I didn’t feel like cooking, and neither did Ray. So, we asked Noah what he felt like eating, and after thinking about it for a few minutes, he told us he really wanted a cheeseburger from Dick’s Diner. And while we didn’t often make a habit of eating out, we thought a night outside of the house might help to brighten our collective mood, as dark and gray as the sky overhead.
“A storm is coming,” I commented on our walk to the diner.
Luckily, our neighborhood wasn’t far from Main Street. If the skies decided to open up on our way back, we wouldn’t have far to go.
“Helen said we were getting some nasty weather this weekend,” Ray replied, looking toward the black sky with a fearful grimace.
“Guess we can’t go fishing then,” Noah grumbled, kicking his feet along the sidewalk.
“Well, we’ll see how bad it is.” I wrapped my arm around his shoulders and pulled him against my side. “Otherwise, you can help me paint your room.”
“At your house?”
“Yeah,” I said, lifting one side of my mouth in a half smile. “Maybe we can head down to the store, and you can pick the color.”
“I guess that’s a good idea.” He nodded, lifting his feet off the sidewalk a little higher now. “I mean, since we still can’t live in our house and everything.”
On the other side of me, Ray wrapped her arms around mine, hugging it against her chest as she pressed her cheek to my bicep. “Actually, I was thinking … maybe we should just fix our place up and ask Connie to help us sell it.”
I raised a curious brow. “Oh, yeah?”
Noah looked around me to glare at his mom. “Why? Where are we gonna live then?”
“I think we’re pretty comfortable where we are, don’t you think?” she asked him, bringing her eyes up to meet mine.
Although she and Noah had been living at my place for several weeks now, it had never been discussed if it was a permanent change or just one we’d live with until it felt safe for them to go home. And considering the recent developments in the situation with Levi and Seth, I thought I’d made the accurate assumption in thinking that, once they were both locked up, things would go back to the way they had been. I would be disappointed—I loved sharing my space with them, and so did Eleven—but I, of course, would respect Ray’s decision to do whatever she thought was best for her and her son.
But hearing this now, that she wanted to stay with me, made my heart feel lighter than it had in days—weeks maybe.
“You mean, stay with Soldier?” he asked.
Ray nodded before saying, “Yeah. As long as you’re okay with that … and Soldier’s okay with it too, of course.”
Noah was slow to nod, and his smile was even slower to grow. But when it did, he looked like a kid on Christmas as he beamed bright enough to light up the blackened sky.
“Yeah,” he said as he slid his arm around my waist, “I think that’s a good idea.”
I pulled him tighter to my side, my smile matching his. “I do too.”
***
We had a quiet and comfortable but fast dinner as we listened to the low, growling rumbles of thunder in the distance. The ominous clouds let loose the moment we stepped out of the diner, and we laughed as we ran through the rapidly multiplying raindrops, racing each other home until Ray and I were breathless and panting and Noah was more than ready to keep going.
“Jeez, you guys are old,” he chided before running the rest of the way down Daffodil Lane.
I took Ray’s hand, interlocking our fingers, and tipped my head back to feel the rain patter against my face.
“You look happy,” Ray commented quietly.
I smiled as we strolled. “I am happy.”
She smiled, but her eyes held a little doubt. But it was true. Even despite my mother’s death and the lone bogeyman still lurking in the shadows, I was truly, undoubtedly happy.
“I love you,” Ray whispered, squeezing my hand.
We passed beneath a lamppost, the light illuminating the hundreds of raindrops as they fell to wet the ground at our feet. I stopped us from walking and tugged at her hand, pulling her against me. She laughed loudly, elated as she pressed her hands to my soaked T-shirt, the fabric plastered to my skin.
“I love you too, Rain,” I said, my throat clenching around the words as they were spoken. “And it’s because of you that I am happy. It’s because of you that I love my life. Things that I never thought could ever be possible have been turned into a reality because you’re in my life. And I know you thank me for everything all the time, but right now, I’m thanking you. For opening your mind and giving me a chance when everyone else was reluctant, for loving me, and for giving me a life I never thought I could have. I could never thank you enough for that. Because I’ve finally won.”
Even in the rain, I could see the watering of her eyes as she swallowed. “If you win, I win, Soldier, and I’d say we both got very, very lucky,” she whispered, moving her hands up from my sodden shirt to grasp my face between her palms.
She lured me down to her open, waiting lips to kiss me deeply, passionately between the raindrops beneath a lamppost on Daffodil Lane. Her hands pushed into my hair as mine tangled within hers, our mouths opening wider and deepening the dance of our tongues.
I will miss this so much, I thought, immediately shaken by the mere act of thinking it at all, and it worked its way down from my brain to my heart, settling in to cause an ache the kiss couldn’t touch, let alone erase.
Ray pulled back, leaving me instantly lonely and longing for more. But her eyes met mine with a promise.
“I think we need to get inside and take care of this,” she said, dragging her fingers slowly from my shoulder, down my chest, across my navel, and right along my bulging erection, straining painfully against the zipper of my jeans.
I groaned, instantly desperate for her touch the second she took it away. “Only if I get to take care of you first,” I said as I grasped her hand and led her home, desperate to seek refuge from the warning bells residing only in my mind.
***
My hips rolled beneath her as I held on to her waist, staring into eyes that held every little thing I’d ever found important. Her fingers clung to my chest, piercing the skin with the crescent-moon shape of her nails. Her lips fell open; her jaw trembled. Her gaze flooded with a plea for release, and I would be damned to deny her.
My hand slid around her waist, resting on her thigh as my thumb pressed between her legs. Circling. Grinding. Moving with purpose and tantalizing persuasion.