Page 76 of Malice and Surrender
Avro
After four hours, I was convinced that Raine was hiding something. She was quiet, and even though she made jokes, they came out forced, like she was trying too hard. She also kept standing with her left side to me. I’d glimpsed some bruising on her neck, but she refused to stand still long enough for me to check if it was what I thought it was. That was the other odd thing. We’d been doing physical labor all afternoon, and she had yet to remove her hoodie. I could see the beads of sweat from here, but she never even moved to take it off.
Being a jerk, I turned off the air about an hour ago, and it was getting even hotter in here. Raine’s eyes were focused on her task, but it was a cover. I was sure of it. She was burying herself in work to avoid something, and at the moment, that something was me. The question was why.
More had to have happened last night. I could feel it. Jace hated it when I said that. He was also creeped out that I was always right. She was rearranging chairs for the third time, and the more I watched, the more certain I became that my hunch was right. Her movements were short and quick and reminded me of a worker bee as she dashed from one side of the room to the other. She would also wince, then cover it quickly.
“Would you like a water?” I asked.
“Sure, that would be great,” she said, never turning to look at me.
Pushing away from the bar, I grabbed two bottles and called out, tossing one her way. “Thanks.”
“I’ll be right back,” I said, wandering down the hallway to the offices and bathrooms.
I slipped into her office after checking that she wasn’t following or watching me. Luckily, the computer was still on, and I quickly clicked on the security footage and pulled up yesterday. I fast-forwarded to when Raine arrived, and I watched her walk to the storage room door. I knew she hated going down there. Watching her now, I half expected the eerie horror movie sounds to start playing.
About thirty minutes later, a cat did run out the door, and Raine wasn’t far behind, closing the door behind her. I clicked on another camera and held back a laugh as I watched Raine dash around the bar. The cat made a huge mess as she chased it. She stopped in the middle of the dance floor and walked toward the patio, opening the doors wide. It was storming hard enough that the rain was driving in. The cat seemed distracted by the wind, rain, and the blowing blackout blinds, then Raine made her move and captured it. I watched as she took the cat outside, then stomped back in, looking like a drowned rat, as she closed and locked the doors.
Everything was as she said, except for the falling or running into walls. I’d been fed a half-truth—a cover story for what really happened.
“What are you doing?” Raine asked from the doorway.
I turned and leaned against her desk to stare at her. “I wanted to check your story,” I said.
Her eyes narrowed into slits. “So what, you’re going to be one of those overly controlling boyfriends now? Or whatever you want to call us,” Raine bit out, her tone laced with the same venom that was in her eyes.
“Nope, I’m nothing like that,” I said. “But I also know when I’m being lied to.” It was subtle, but her face shifted just enough that I knew I was right. “You see, Raine, I know you. I know you so well that I have your routine memorized and how you like to do things. I also know that you would’ve tossed that hoodie off two hours ago, and you would’ve let me kiss you when I reached for you earlier.” I lifted my fingers as I counted off all the oddities in her story.
“You’ve been tense, which could’ve been from our conversation on the way here, but you would normally put that behind you to work. You also aren’t listening to your favorite soundtrack. You haven’t put on any music at all. Lastly, your eyes are cagey, like you want to tell me something, but you’re fucking avoiding the topic.”
“Oh my god! You should be a damn detective,” she fumed and marched into the room but still didn’t come near me. Instead, she paced the floor, her hands pulled inside the long sleeves of the hoodie like she wanted to go full turtle and disappear.
“You want to know what else I know now?” I asked, keeping my voice even.
“I’m scared to ask. You may tell me what I ate for breakfast or how often I’ve used the bathroom today.”
“See, that right there. That was also not you, but what really sealed the deal was looking at the footage from yesterday. You know what it showed me?”
Raine stopped pacing and looked at the door like she wanted to bolt. To prevent that, I walked over, closed the office door, and leaned against it. I was getting answers.
“Avro, please.”
“Please, what? Don’t tell you I saw your cat, but you never fell. Or, how about I don’t tell you that you never ran into the bar or smacked into it or any wall? You know what that tells me?”
She swallowed and bit her lip. “Please stop.”
“No, Raine, I won’t let you cover for someone hurting you. I know that was what happened, and if it wasn’t here, it happened during your ride to or from the hospital or at your house. So which is it? And more importantly, why don’t you want to tell me?”
When she didn’t say anything but stood in the middle of the room looking more defeated than I’d ever seen, I couldn’t stop myself from going to her. Raine tilted her head up when I stopped in front of her, and her eyes glistened with tears.
Gripping her chin, I forced her to turn her head to the side, and using my thumb, I wiped at the makeup hiding long purple fingerprints. Fingerprints that belonged to a man or woman in the WNBA, but whoever it was, intended to hurt her. Maybe kill her. My blood ran like ice in my veins at the thought.
“Raine, what the hell happened?” I asked, my stomach dropping. I’d never hoped so much in my life that I was wrong about something.
“I can’t tell you,” she said.
I lifted my head and stared into her eyes. “Why?”
