Saving Rain

by Kelsey Kingsley

She turned against my touch, folding herself into the crook of my arm. It took everything in me not to wrap her into a tight embrace and protect her from the monster who’d hurt her wrist and whatever else I didn’t know about. But I would know eventually. I would ensure she told me every last detail, and I would do whatever it took to make sure she never had to face him again. “What would you do?” she asked, her eyes twinkling with tears and hope. She lifted her palm, slowly bringing her fingertips to the side of my face, tracing the scar that ran from below my eye to disappear into my beard. The hairs at the back of my neck stood on end at her touch, featherlight and barely there, as I widened my stance and craned my neck to drop my forehead to hers. She held my gaze and flattened her palm on my cheek, covering the evidence that I’d once protected her. Before I knew her name. Before I knew her.

she had to know now that there was nothing I wouldn’t do. I’d mark my entire body if I had to. I’d lay down my life. I’d run to hell on my bare feet, harness the Devil, and force him to kneel in submission. All to be certain that the bogeyman she knew and feared never laid a hand on her or her son again.

my tongue failed me now as she held me captive within her bejeweled eyes. I was rendered stupid and useless with the softness of her palm soothing the hardened, jagged edges of my heart, and all I could utter in reply was, “Everything.” Her mouth moved to mine as quickly as mine went to hers. A passionate rush of energy, forcing our bodies to converge in a frantic coupling of lips, opening on contact to coax tongues from their hiding places. I tasted her mouth, and she tasted mine, both of us savoring every moment with sharp inhales and choked whimpers. She hooked her arms around my neck, and I took my hands to her waist, digging my fingers into her flesh and biting her bottom lip to ward off the temptation to go further, to do more than just kiss. “Soldier.” My name was spoken breathlessly, almost as a sigh. Nobody had ever uttered my name that way before. Nobody had ever said it as if it were the most cherished, most precious word to ever exist in the English language, and I wanted to wrap it up in a neat little bow to save for always. I moved my lips to her jaw, then her neck, where I inhaled the scent of freshness and purity and warmth. A soothing blend that reminded me of childhood and sunshine and all the things I’d been missing for so long. I wrapped my arms around her, burying my nose in the crook of her neck as a consuming need to get lost in this emotion crashed against me. All of a sudden, all at once, she became everything I had lost and needed so desperately t...

I need to tell you something.” The sound of her voice … It was reluctant and regretful, and that wasn’t at all what I wanted to hear. Not when I was ready to bare my soul for her to steal and use at her will. I swallowed in preparation as I stood up straight and took a step back, moving my hands from her waist to her shoulders. I didn’t say anything; I just waited for what suddenly seemed like the end of the world to come tumbling down around me. Life always did have a way of taking away the good things the very moment I’d gotten a taste. Ray moved her hands to my chest and pressed them over my thundering heart, now more alive than ever. She stared ahead, watching every rise and fall of my chest, before asking, “Do you remember that night we first met?” “Of course.” “You made me promise I would never go back to The Pit.” “I know.” “And I kept that promise”—she dragged her eyes from my chest to pin me with her tormented gaze—“but you forgot that I still lived in that town.” If she couldn’t hear my heart before, there was no way she didn’t now. My jaw clenched tightly against my grinding teeth as I looked down at her, immediately terrified of whatever was going to come next in this part of her life’s story. “I think it probably pissed them off—” “Who’s them?” I managed to mutter. “Seth, his friends … you know, Levi—” The sound that rumbled from deep within my chest rivaled a growl as I tore my eyes from hers to stare at the ceiling. “Fucking Levi …” “Yeah, um … they didn’t l...

“I thought I had saved you,” I whispered, knowing how stupid and pathetic it sounded now. God, what kind of idiot had I been to believe that I had somehow stopped every bad thing from happening in her life by protecting her once? Thirteen years. Thirteen fucking years had passed since that night, and while maybe my life had been a monotonous cycle of nothing much occurring for nearly ten of those years, hers hadn't. Shit had happened. Lots of it, apparently. And it had been my fault. Would things have been different if I had just stayed out of it? Would I have been able to live with myself if I'd just stood by and let it happen while I ignored her, like every other asshole there that night? “Soldier, no,” Ray said, reaching for my face with her hand, bringing my eyes back to hers. “You did save me. You were there for me that night when nobody else would even look. You were my hero. You showed me there were good guys in this world, and I never ever forgot about that. I never forgot you.” I stared into her eyes, unwilling to understand how this woman could have suffered so much hurt and still look at me with such hope. How was she not broken after all this time? And how could she continue to face that man time and time again? How could she face her son, the product of her continued torment? God, shame on me.

when he was last here, he”—I pinched my eyes shut, unable to believe I was about to speak the words—“hurt your wrist, and …” I remembered what Noah had said. That his dad would get mad when Ray refused to go to her bedroom with him. I'm going to throw up. She shook her head. “I wouldn't let him. That's why he got mad, and I told Noah to sit outside.” “Okay.” God, no, it wasn't okay. But at least she'd fought him off. Not without paying a price, but … she'd fought him off. I struggled to steady my breath and heart as I said, “You won't see him again.” Ray gawked at the demand, as if I had some nerve. “Soldier, I can't just … keep his son from him. H-how am I supposed to explain that to him?” “You won't have to,” I said, my fists clenching and unclenching. “If I see his big fucking truck roll up again, he'll deal with me.” “No!” she shouted, and that reaction startled me to narrow suspicious eyes at her. “No. Let me handle it. Please. I'll tell him I'm done with this shit and that I'll get a restraining order if he ever comes near us again. Just let me try.” Intuition told me not to agree, and it had nothing to do with not trusting her to try. No, what I didn't trust was Seth and his willingness to comply. The guy had been violating her for years. He had been acting out in violence for years. What the hell did she think was going to be different now? But still, she was a grown woman, and I had to respect that. “Fine.” I relented hesitantly.

“Wow.” I looked over my shoulder to see Ray standing on her porch in a fuzzy pink robe and matching slippers, a steaming cup of coffee clutched between her hands. “What?” I asked, my lips lifting into a hesitant smile. She studied me for a moment, wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue. “It’s just not every day I get to stand outside on a beautiful spring day and see something that looks like”—she gestured toward me with the mug—“that.” I laughed, all too aware of the heat rising in my cheeks as I shook my head before returning my attention to the tiller in my hands, jabbing the blades into the ground, using my foot for leverage, and pressing on the handles to loosen the hardened soil. It was a small patch of land, roughly ten feet by ten feet, and the job of cultivating the soil would be done in no time. But it was hot for the beginning of May. The sun was beating down on me with its relentless rays, and even without my shirt, my back and brow glistened with sweat. It was uncomfortable—I had never been a fan of the heat—but at least Ray seemed to be enjoying the show. And even if her compliments made me blush—I just wasn’t used to being admired, I guessed—it was nice. “Have I ever told you that you have really nice arms?” she asked, and I glanced over my shoulder again to watch her slowly take a sip from her mug, her eyes never diverting from me and my apparently nice arms. “No, you’ve never mentioned that before,” I said. Resigned to the fact that I wouldn’t get muc...

“What’s the kid doing today?” I asked, turning my eyes back on the land to assess what I’d already accomplished. Half of the yard had been tilled. Not bad for a little over an hour of work. “Right now, checking out the new game my mom bought him.” She walked down her steps and came to stand closer to my little yard. “Do you need help? I can send him over.” “No, I’m good.” I grunted as I jabbed the blades into the next tough spot in the row I was working on. “Just thought he’d like to get his hands dirty if he wasn’t doing anything else.” “I’ll ask him.” She watched me through a couple more jabs of the tiller into the ground, sipping her coffee and keeping an arm wrapped tightly around her middle. There was something so normal about it, something that said we could have this all the time—maybe even forever—and I liked it a lot. It was funny. For years, I’d never thought forever with another person could exist in my world. Yet there I was, envisioning her walking down the aisle in a premature daydream. “Where did you learn to do this stuff?” she asked after another sip of coffee. “What, dig in the dirt?” She laughed. “No, I mean, gardening and … whatever it is you’re doing right now.” “Well”—another grunt with another jab—“my grandfather had a huge garden that I helped him with. That’s where I learned most of what I know”—jab, push, till—“and that continued while I was at Wayward.” “You gardened at Wayward?” I nodded as I gritted my teeth for another stab of the blades throu...

“We should go on a date,” she announced during her weekly shopping trip. Noah wasn’t with her today. I wondered if he was with her mom and was going to ask when she abruptly made a suggestion I hadn’t expected but probably should’ve. I mean, that was what people who liked each other did, right? They went on dates. They made things official. They had dinner together and watched movies and … other normal coupley things that I had never done before in my life. “A date?” I asked, looking up from my sweeping and promptly smacking my head on the damn Produce sign. Howard chuckled beneath his breath before wincing apologetically. “I’ll move it, I promise.” He walked away, his laughter following him as he went, as I muttered, “He’s full of shit. He’s been saying he’ll move that fuckin’ thing for months.” “Yeah, a date,” Ray replied while watching me rub my hand against the back of my head. “Like”—my forehead crumpled with the thought—“what kind of date?” I wished I didn’t seem so stupid. And I hated that she knew it, too, as she laughed lightly at my expense and playfully rolled her eyes. “You know, like, a normal date. Dinner, maybe go for a walk or go to the movies or something …” She folded her arms against the handle of her shopping cart and shrugged like it all should’ve been obvious. “A normal date.” “I’ve never been on a date,” I admitted point-blank, then quickly wondered what she would think of me, now knowing that at thirty-one, I hadn’t done something most people did in...

Three days later, that Friday, Noah stayed at his grandparents’ house, and I walked the thirteen steps it took to get from my stoop to Ray’s porch. I held in my hand a bouquet of sunflowers I’d bought from the florist in town and knocked on her door. When she answered, wearing the prettiest white dress I had ever seen, I was glad I’d decided at the last minute to wear the shirt and pants I’d worn on Christmas with Harry’s family. “Look at you,” she said softly, leaning against the door and smiling as she let her eyes wander from the top of my head all the way down to my feet. “I could, but I think I’d rather look at you instead.” I held out the flowers. “These are for you.” Her smile grew as she accepted them. “This might be your first date, but you’re the first man to bring me flowers.” I chuffed and rolled my eyes to the ceiling. “Oh, come on.” She left the doorway to head into the kitchen, and I followed, closing the door behind me. “I’m serious,” she said, standing on her toes and stretching her arm to try and reach for a dusty vase on the top of her refrigerator. I handed it to her before she could pull a muscle. “Show-off.” Her eyes teased while that smile never left her face.

watching her in that white dress with hundreds of flowers scattered all over. It held her curves in a way that made me jealous, and I had to will my dick to hold on to some self-control. He had none. But if Ray noticed, she didn’t let on as she put the flowers into the vase and turned to place them on the table. “I have only ever dated one guy,” she admitted, allowing her smile to droop a little as she arranged the big yellow blooms. “And he was never really romantic.” She was implying that I was, and I snorted. “I’m not sure I’d say I’m romantic either.” Ray’s smile returned as she looked at the flowers, then at me, a new and different twinkle in her eyes. “You might not see it,” she said, turning to head for the open door. “But I do.” I followed. I thought I would follow her anywhere.

We could have taken her car to the restaurant, but we decided to walk instead. I knew Ray was only a nickname, but strolling beside her, with the sun bringing light to the golden streaks in her golden-brown hair, an old, familiar tune rang through my head. You are my sunshine, my only sunshine … It reminded me of my mother, but more than that, it reminded me of her. Of Ray. Of the streaks in her hair, as bright as the rays of sunlight casting shadows over the world around us. Everyone waved to her as we passed. Everyone smiled. They looked at us with fondness, and I tried to imagine what they must’ve thought, seeing us together. What does she see in him? She could do so much better. Why would she stoop so low? But … no, maybe not. Their smiles were too genuine, too adoring. Look at them. Our little misfits, brought together by a kinder fate than what they’d been shown before. They’ll make each other better; they already have. Then, with a burst of confidence, I reached down and grabbed her hand in mine. Our difference in height made it a little awkward, but that quickly settled into something nicer as I interlaced our fingers and held tight while we continued to walk toward the restaurant. I had never held a girl’s hand like this before, and with a heart beating too loudly to notice if any of the onlookers gasped or snickered, I hoped she wouldn’t let go. Her fingers felt nice between mine; her palm, soft and small, felt good against mine. Walking alongside her, like we we...

friends?” I asked as I pulled out Ray’s chair—that was what guys on dates did, right? She sat as she nodded. “She comes into the library a lot. She’s studying to be a teacher.” I took my seat across from her and opened the menu. “What kind of teacher?” “English, I think.” An image of Mrs. Henderson came to mind, clouding my view of the list of appetizers and drinks. She had been the only teacher I could remember liking, the only one I could recall caring. There might’ve been more in my youth, but that wasn’t the time of my life when it mattered. I needed kindness then, I needed compassion, and she had given it to me—even if it had, at the time, fallen on deaf ears. Then, I remembered that Ray had gone to the same school, so I asked, “Did you ever have Mrs. Henderson in high school?” She smiled with instant recollection. “Oh my God, yes! Wow. Yeah … I haven’t thought of her in forever. She was so sweet.” “She was,” I agreed. “I had the dumbest crush on her. But I think part of that was because she was so nice to me when nobody else was.” Ray nodded somberly. Her menu still sat on the table in front of her, untouched. I had her undivided attention. It was nice to feel so important, and I wanted her to feel the same. So, I put my menu down and said, “She’s Harry’s daughter. Have I ever told you about Harry?” Ray and Harry had yet to be formally introduced, but I knew she had to have noticed the older guy coming around my place once or twice a week since I’d moved in. His visi...

tell me about the elusive Harry,” she said after the waiter walked away with our drink and appetizer order. “Did you know him as a kid?” I shook my head, folding my arms casually against the table. “Nope. I met him in prison.” She didn’t even bat a lash. “Was he an inmate too?” I smiled and chuckled at the thought of Harry doing anything bad enough to put him behind bars. “Nah. He’s one of the officers at Wayward, and he kinda took me under his wing.” That took her aback a little. A line formed between her brows as they pinched with curiosity. “You actually made friends with an officer? Isn’t that, like, frowned upon or something?” “Eh … I mean”—I lifted a hand with my shrug—“there’s appropriate relationships, but then there’s inappropriate ones. Like, this guy I knew, Zero—” “Not his real name, I’m assuming?” “I never thought to ask. He was just always Zero.” She pressed her lips together, stifling a giggle, and nodded, gesturing for me to continue. “Anyway, he was hooking up with one of the lady officers, and …” I pinched my lips and shook my head. “Yeah, that was one of those inappropriate ones. We all pretended not to know, but, I mean, it’s hard to ignore the people fucking in the dorm bathroom, you know? Not exactly the most private place on the planet.” Ray sniffed a laugh as she propped her chin in the palm of her hand. With a serene look on her face, she listened like I was telling her about cherished Sundays in my childhood or something. And I didn’t care to wond...

Harry became my inspiration to do even better. He’s a good guy—the best really. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him.” “How did you meet?” she asked. “Well, I mean, apart from me getting there and him being in charge of performing a very, very thorough search of my body?” I smirked and sniffed lightly at my own feeble attempt at making a joke, but she didn’t laugh, and I quickly cleared my throat and shifted in my chair. “Um … so, I had, of course, seen him around. I knew who he was, and he knew who I was … but we never really talked. I didn’t really talk much, you know? I was more focused on, like, keeping my head down and not pissing too many people off at first. “But after a while, it was my birthday. And it was also the anniversary of Billy’s death. And I, uh …” I diverted my gaze toward a mounted deer head on the wall and shrugged at its lifeless gaze. “I didn’t handle it well, I guess. It was like … I’d always known what I had been arrested for, what I was convicted of, but it never really hit me until that particular day.” It was an awkward moment for the waiter to step in and bring our drinks with a muttered apology. After assuring us the appetizers would be out soon and he’d take our dinner order, he scurried away again. I figured he just didn’t want to prolong his discomfort by hanging around longer, and I wondered if maybe this wasn’t the time to talk about this. Hell, maybe I shouldn’t ever talk about it at all. “So, what happened?” Ray asked, stirring the s...

Later, she asked, “When you were a kid, what did you dream your life would be?” I told her very plainly, albeit depressingly, “I didn’t dream of anything. I just hoped my grandparents would live forever, but they didn’t.” A wave of melancholy washed over her as she slowly popped a piece of grilled chicken into her mouth. Then, she asked, “Okay, one more for now. Who was your best friend, growing up?” And I answered simply, “Billy.” That startled her, and I bit back the urge to confirm that, yes, I had inadvertently killed my best friend. “I’m so sorry,” she said instead of saying the obvious, and I appreciated her response so much more. Nobody had ever been sorry before. Nobody ever was for the villain. “Okay, my turn.” I rubbed my hands together, determined to make this at least somewhat interesting. “Um … so, why did you move to River Canyon?” The steady connection of her green eyes was suddenly broken as she dropped her gaze to the plates of stuffed mushrooms and crab cakes. The hard, heavy swallows, shifting the muscles in her throat, told me I had made a mistake by asking. She clearly didn’t want to talk about it, and I made the safe assumption that it had something to do with Seth and his pals over in our old stomping grounds. “The same reason as you,” she finally replied after a few long moments of silence, bringing her gaze, now shrouded in pain and sadness, back to mine. “A fresh start.”

Dinner was filled with food I wished I’d never tasted, only for the fact that I knew I would miss it every other night I couldn’t have it. The conversation between us flowed freely and easily, pieced together by lingering looks and flighty, sometimes-nervous laughter. It felt good to see that our connection surpassed the physical and wasn’t just through Noah, his infectious personality, and a brief but impactful meeting in our past. Somewhere around the time dessert was brought to the table, I realized that, wow, this was real. Like, this—me, in a nice restaurant, with a pretty woman who genuinely liked me—was happening. And I would go home afterward to my own place—one I was growing prouder of by the day—to hopefully dream of this night and pray that it would happen again. Ray extended her foot, resting it beside mine beneath the table, as she dived into the fudge brownie sundae we’d decided to share, and out of nowhere, a wave of bittersweet sorrow came over me, joining the awe I couldn’t shake, as I hoped Gramma and Grampa could see me now. I hoped they were proud that, despite it all, I’d still managed to find myself here, knowing the goodness in me had come from them and them alone.

I have another question,” Ray said before bringing the loaded spoon to her mouth. My eyes focused on her lips wrapping around the metal utensil, pursing and pulling. A drop of hot fudge remained in the corner of her mouth, and I salivated at the thought of licking it away. To taste the chocolate mingling with the taste of her. I swallowed repeatedly at the lust bubbling deep in my gut and lower, cleared my throat, and grabbed my own spoon. “Yeah?” Her cheeks reddened as she hesitated. “Okay, I …” She laughed and shook her head, laying a hand against her face. “God, I don’t even know how to ask this …” As my spoon dug into the mountain of ice cream and brownie, I shrugged. “Come on. I’m an open book. Ask me anything.” She blew out a breath. “Okay, okay, okay, um …” She inhaled, closing her eyes, then opened them to pierce me with an apologetic gaze. “Have you ever … been with anyone before?” Fucking hell. I didn’t mean to laugh at the question, but with my mouth wrapped around the spoon, I snorted through my nose and chuckled from deep in my chest. Ray was instantly embarrassed, groaning and covering her eyes as she tried to suppress her grin and shook her head. “I’m sorry. It was dumb.” “No”—I laid my spoon on the plate and quelled my laughter—“it’s not dumb. I just … I wasn’t expecting it.” Then, I folded my hands and emptied my lungs. “Yes,” I replied simply. Still embarrassed, she cleared her throat and gave her head a rapid shake before grabbing her spoon hastily. “I m...

“I’ve only ever been with Seth.” A pang of hurt and sympathy struck my heart like a lightning bolt at Ray’s own admission. I brought my eyes back to hers, and she offered a weak smile. “When was the last time?” I asked, not sure why I even cared to know while dying to know more than just that. Had I known her already? Had it happened right next door from me, when I was only thirteen steps away and capable of stopping him? My stomach churned with a warning. “Um …” She pulled her lips between her teeth, and I realized abruptly that maybe she didn’t want to talk about this at all. God, what kind of asshole asked a woman to relive those memories? Why hadn’t I thought of that from the start? “I’m sorry,” I said, feeling it was my turn to apologize, but she shook her head. “No, it’s okay. It’s just that I don’t honestly remember. It’s been a while, I think, and anytime it happened, I dunno. I usually just … blocked it out.” I had told her I’d gladly carry her pain. I hadn’t been lying about that. But, man, it was a heavy load, and I hung my head under its weight. Wishing I could do something to erase it all and start fresh. “It hasn’t always been completely terrible. We actually sorta dated for a while after I found out I was pregnant. He had apologized and said he’d try to be better,” she added, as if that made it all okay. “But … it’s never been particularly good either.” Rage could be powerful. It could be enough to make a man kill, and for the right reasons, I thought it cou...