They went back for the funeral and decided to stay. The two had been on their own ever since. It was modest life, but they were ok with that. Her mother worked as a receptionist at a medical facility and Rayne attended public school, which was where she met Layla. She graduated at the top of her class and received a full scholarship to Washington State.
But then, her mother had gotten sick. It was discovered that she had an advanced form of bone cancer and didn't respond to any of the treatments. Rayne turned down everything and put her life on hold, just as her mother had done for her. She cared for the only person she had left in the world as if her life depended on it, and she often felt as though it did.
Then, five years ago, just two short years after her diagnosis, her mother passed away.
And that was the story of her life.
A single tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away and dried her hands on the towel hanging near the shower.
She looked at herself in the mirror, searching for the strong girl she’d been then. She’d survived so much already and knew that this would be no different. Sometimes suffering and hardships were just a part of life. It was what made a person appreciate the good things and made them stronger and better in the long run of things.
Rayne knew what she had to do. She was going to shower, pack a bag, and follow Camden wherever he was taking her. She was going to make sure she got to the bottom of this mess. She was taking back her life.
Chapter 5
A shower, packing, and one conversation with a very unhappy Layla later, Rayne leaned her head against the cushiony first-class seat of Southern Scapes Airways Flight 112 from Seattle, Washington to Alexandria, Louisiana. She still couldn't figure out why Camden hadn't told her where they were going when she was going to find out at the airport, anyway. However, he had been insistent and didn't tell her. She had to read it on her ticket.
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, surprised at how calm she was. First class was nice, but that didn't take away the fact that she was afraid of flying. She hated it. So much so, that she made Camden take the window seat. She didn't want to be able to see the ground as she plummeted to her death.
The passing stewardess paused at her seat with the drink cart, the wheels rattling as she stopped. It was just enough to pull her from her thoughts.
"Would you like something to drink?”
Rayne looked into the woman's face and was reminded of her boss, Karla. The stewardess wore too much makeup, and you could practically smell the hairspray fumes wafting from her. She fought a snicker. "No thank you," she managed to squeak out.
As the stewardess continued on down the aisle, Rayne glanced to Camden, who was staring out the window. He was wearing sunglasses, even though it wasn't bright, and from what she could tell, he was deep in thought. He'd refused to take off the glasses even after they boarded. Apparently, according to him, his eyes were very light sensitive, and they helped.
Personally, she thought he was hiding something, or maybe hiding from someone. She shrugged off the thought and looked down at her hands, folded over her blue-jean clad legs. "So, Louisiana, huh?"
He turned from the window and nodded, trying but failing to suppress a smile. "What was the giveaway?"
She shrugged and placed her hand on her chin in a mockingly thoughtful gesture. "Oh, I don't know. It couldn't have been the ticket I had to carry for a mile through the airport, or the huge flashing sign when we made it to our terminal. Oh, or the captain announcing it over the intercom before we took off."
Camden rolled his eyes and chuckled.
Rayne couldn't hold back her smile. Ever since she'd made up her mind earlier that morning to go through with this and trust him, she'd felt more at ease. She wasn't sure why, but she did. Maybe she had more faith in him than she thought.
She glanced at him and wished he would take off those annoying shades. He was hard enough to read as it was. The glasses certainly didn't help. "In all seriousness," she began quietly, her expression changing, "how much danger am I really in?"
As if he could read her thoughts, Camden reached up and removed the lenses, revealing those spectacular blue eyes she found she was quite fond of. He ran his hand through his hair, forcing it in every direction and leaving it messy and untamed.
Blue and emerald met for one electrified moment, sending a shiver down her spine that spread across her skin like a tingling wildfire.
"I'll tell you this," he said, inhaling deeply and neatly folding the glasses. He knew that he wasn't supposed to reveal anything, but she'd been left in the dark for too long already. She was going to find out soon enough, anyway. "All I know is that when you were sick, Martin, I mean your grandfather, gave you an injection," he began.
Rayne nodded. She remembered it. In fact, she'd dreamed about it not too long ago.
"It was an experimental medicine the company he worked for was developing. It was to be a cure for certain types of cancers, the ones that affect the blood." Camden squinted and rubbed the bridge of his nose before continuing.
She listened intently and her heartbeat increased. Am I finally going to get some answers? Turning toward him, she gave Camden her full attention and held her breath, waiting for him to continue.
"The company was denied human trials, so they were destroying everything they had and going back to the drawing board on the entire formula. But Harry Schultz, the lead scientist, was convinced it was the true serum, and that it would work."
She was afraid to move, as if even the slightest blink would make him stop.
"Your grandfather knew that it could be your only chance of surviving, so he took the last dose from Dr. Schultz before it was destroyed and gave it to you." He tried to read her, wanted to know what she was thinking at that very moment, but he couldn't. Her face had no expression and she was stone still.
"Your grandfather was so desperate for a way to help you, that he was willing to try anything." He became quiet and stared into the deep green depths of her eyes. He managed to smile before continuing, "It worked Rayne. That's what cured you."
She nodded and looked down at her hands. Was she really hearing this? Her grandfather had really given her something that he knew nothing about, and didn't know how she would react to it? Granted, she had been marked for death already and very nearly knocking on its door, but what if it hadn't helped? What did he know then that she wasn't understanding now? She inhaled deeply and ran her fingers through her long auburn curls in an attempt to keep her mind from overheating.
As if the last few days weren't enough, let's add all this in, too.
There was a giant puzzle floating around inside her head and she couldn't quite see the pieces clearly enough to put them together. It was incredibly frustrating. "So what does all that have to do with now?" she asked, letting her hands drop into her lap where she fidgeted with the hem of her blue T-shirt.
After a short pause, Camden was hesitant to continue. He so wanted to know what was going on inside that beautiful head of hers. He wished that just for a moment, her mask would crack and give him a glimpse of her true feelings and not just what she wanted him to see. "No one knew the formula wouldn't kill you, let alone cure you. But since they were denied human trials, it was illegal for him to use it. So they had to keep it hush-hush."
She shook her head and gave him a confused look. "Sure, but that doesn't tell me what it has to do with now."
He held up a hand. "Let me explain."
She furrowed her eyebrows, but listened intently.
"Apparently, Schultz couldn't keep his mouth shut and told a few scientists in his network of colleagues. Even went as far as to give them your grandfather’s name." He shook his head. "It wasn't long after that, Schultz was killed in a ‘mugging.’" He made air quotes with his fingers. "I think the wrong person caught wind of it and wanted to take credit for his creation, recreate the formula, and distribute it, but that's just an outsider looking in."
He shrugged an
d glanced out the window. An overhead ding signaled the seat belt sign, and the captain’s voice rang throughout the cabin. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are now beginning our descent into Alexandria, Louisiana. Please put away all of your electronic devices and return your trays and seat backs to their original, upright positions." There was a crackling of static before he continued, "The weather is currently seventy-two degrees and sunny. Enjoy your day, and as always, thank you for flying Southern Scapes."
Rayne let her mind drift from the conversation at hand and rolled her eyes. Pilots’ voices always reminded her of game show hosts. They were overly cheery all the time and had to emphasize every single word.
She turned back to see Camden staring at her. "What?" she asked, rubbing her cheeks. "Do I have something on my face?"
He laughed. No, she didn't. He‘d just been caught admiring the creaminess of her skin and the cute way her nose slightly turned up at the end. He shook his head, as if trying to get rid of the thought.
Rayne turned to him and waited for him to finish explaining, using her hand in a circular motion. He took a breath.
"After Dr. Schultz was killed, your grandfather was afraid that someone else knew he'd had the formula, and so he burned his own house down. Since they couldn't find him or his body, he was presumed dead.” He shook his head. “I don't know how, but he knew something was going to happen and sent me to get you, called it a gut feeling. I’ve been staying close for about two weeks now, thinking that he was just being a little paranoid, but then the break-ins happened. Someone knows you're involved with it all, and somehow he knew."
Rayne was confused again. "So, you're telling me that whoever this person is that's been following me and breaking into to my house is connected with all of this mess that happened over twenty years ago?"
She wanted to scream. She wanted to stand up and yell at the top of her lungs. Why was she answering for someone else's mistake that happened when she was five?
She held her hands up and took a few deep breaths to calm herself. You would have died without it. This little inconvenience is a small price to pay for something that gave you your life back.
She just needed a minute to think it all over. "Well, why don't we just find them and explain that I don't have it, don’t know anything about it, and be on our way?"
Camden scoffed and shook his head. "It's not that simple, Rayne. There are other factors involved that you don't know about yet."
"So tell me!" she nearly shouted.
"I can't," he said quietly, and turned to look out the window as they slowly descended into the cottony-white clouds.
She threw her hands up in frustration. "You know what? I'm done." She crossed her arms over her chest and pursed her lips into a frown. "As soon as we land, I'm taking the next flight back to Seattle. Screw this!"
"Rayne, just calm down." He gave her a sympathetic look. "I know you're frustrated and angry and confused…"
"Oh yeah, how would you know that?" she interrupted.
"It's just as frustrating for me." He reached into his pocket and removed the shades, putting them on and turning to stare out the window in silence.
Rayne huffed to herself. How does he know what I’m feeling? Has he ever been stalked, left in the dark, and had only half the story told to him? She doubted it.
Camden pulled out his cell phone. Against all recommendations, suggestions, and policies, he pressed the power button and watched as the screen came to life.
She jumped to cover the device with her hand and pushed it down into his lap. "Are you crazy?" she asked, her bright green eyes darting around to make sure no one had seen. "Are you trying to make us crash?"
His much larger, muscular hand swatted hers away. "Only a multitude of cellular signals will interfere with a plane’s navigational system. One will do nothing. And what are they gonna do to us, throw us off?" he asked.
Rayne sighed. Wasn't it bad enough that she hated flying? No, of course not. It's always more exciting with a stranger and weird stories about her past. Why not throw in death by a plane crash because of an idiot with a cell phone? That really would make her obituary interesting.
Suddenly, she heard the device vibrating wildly in his hand. One, two, four missed calls, and a growing number of text messages. Camden ripped off the shades and stared at the screen with a horrified look.
Rayne couldn't stop her heart from pounding in her chest. Something was wrong, very wrong. She watched as he twisted in his seat, his eyes scanning the rows in front of and behind them. He eventually braced forward again, his breathing heavy and erratic.
"What's wrong?" she asked, beginning to feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins.
Camden squeezed his eyes shut and folded his hand around the device. He inhaled deeply, his face morphing first into anger, then pain. The phone creaked and popped in protest under the pressure of his fist, and the urge to punch something was nearly impossible to resist.
She had the most horrible, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Something was horribly wrong, and she was beginning to panic. "Would you tell me what the hell is going on?"
He stopped just long enough to look at her, and this time he could read every emotion she was feeling: fear, confusion, uncertainty, maybe even a little excitement. Turning toward her, he lowered his voice. "I need you to listen to me. As soon as this plane lands, I need you to calmly get up and get your bag." He glanced around again. "We have to get off this plane, and fast."
Rayne nodded. She didn’t know why or what had happened, but she knew that whatever it was had him frightened.
"When we get in the terminal, I need you to just go along with whatever I do. It doesn't matter what it is. Just go with it." He raised an eyebrow in question, looking for any sign that she was following him.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and forced herself to nod again. "What's happened?" she managed to choke out.
The plane bounced a bit as they came closer to the ground, and her stomach dropped as they fell a few feet.
He stared at her, uncertainty on his face. "They know we're here and where we're going." He checked behind them again.
Rayne shrugged. "Is it really that big a deal? I mean, it wasn't hard to figure out. I didn't know where we going, but it was pretty easy to see. All they had to do was watch which terminal we went into."
The plane rattled and shook as they touched down, and she couldn't keep herself from gripping the armrest until her knuckles were white.
Camden shook his head. "You're not getting it," he said. "They know about your grandfather, and they found him."
The plane came to a jerky stop and began to taxi off the runway as they stared at each other. He unbuckled his seat belt and made her do the same.
"What does that mean? How do you know that?"
He shook his head. "I'm not the only one who works for Martin, but that's not important. What is important," he said, looking out the window as the gate was extended out to reach the door of the plane, "is that you remember what I told you."
She nodded. "Right. Just go with it."
He nodded and replaced the glasses on the inside pocket of his jacket. "Yes. And we are going to calmly make our way out as if nothing is wrong."
The fasten seat belt sign went off, and Rayne's adrenaline began to pump harder. She could tell that he was shaken by the sudden change of events, and it scared her. He seemed so put together, and for that shell to be broken, it must have been something major.
With the plane now completely parked, she stood and quickly retrieved her bag from the overhead compartment, all while trying not to look suspicious.
Camden stood and placed his hand on her hip as she pulled the bag down, swinging the strap over her shoulder. The place his hand connected was on fire and tingled, spreading over her midsection. Mentally chastising herself, she reminded herself that now was not the time or the place to get all warm and fuzzy.
"Let's go," he whispered, and grabbed her hand to lead her
to the exit. They were the first ones off and nearly ran up the ramp into the terminal, where Camden stopped and took a cautious look around.
People were milling about, talking idly, wheeling luggage, and paying no attention to them. Once out in the crowd, Camden slowed their pace. He kept his head turning this way and that, as if it were on a swivel, but never looked at her as she was pulled along, their hands firmly clasped together.
His step faltered slightly as they turned a corner near the entrance of the tiny airport, and without a word, he turned and slammed her up against the wall, pressing his lips to hers in a forceful kiss.
Rayne's eyes widened in shock as she was flattened between his rigid body and the cold wall. She placed her palms against his chest, ready to push him away, when she remembered his words: Just go with it.
Unsure of what else to do, she snaked her arms up and around his neck, leaning into his kiss, an equal player in his game. Her head tilted to one side so that their mouths fit together more easily, and she was able to look over his shoulder.
She couldn’t be sure, but she believed that she had spotted the reason for his reaction: Two men, both pale-skinned with shades and leather jackets like Camden's, were searching through the faces in the crowd. They looked about suspiciously, and she recognized their fluid movements as similar to his.
One of them looked in their direction, his eyes roaming over the two of them before he turned and looked elsewhere. Her heart was pounding so heavily in her chest and pumping so much adrenaline that she was sure she could hear the blood rushing in her ears.
The men barely had made it past them by just a few feet, her eyes following their every move, when she was caught off guard by his tongue on her lips. Taken aback, a moan escaped her throat as she closed her eyes and parted enough to let him sweep inside. His musky scent mixed with the fervent onslaught of his tongue and ever-present tingle everywhere their bodies touched was enough to drive her insane.
He pushed her harder into the wall, his hands coming up to fist in the long auburn hair at the nape of her neck, pulling her head backwards. His tongue dove in and out of her mouth, swirling around her own in a passionate tango. The rough stubble of his jaw scraped against her chin, leaving a delicious burn in its wake.
Dying To Be Heard (Book 1): Outcry Page 5