Haven doesn't release her grip on my hand, which confirms how she feels about me. She never was one to care about what others think, and I admired that attribute. While she may have temporarily fallen into a world she never wanted to be a part of, she ran from it before it was too late. I believe she’s proving her beliefs now more than ever.
We approach the town clerk's office and stand in front of the open window, watching a few women type away on their computers.
The woman sitting closest to the window looks up from her screen and stands up to greet us. It takes less than two seconds for her to recognize me. Like everyone else in this town, the automatic smile she stood up with morphs into disgust. "Ma'am, I need help finding a person who may not live here anymore, but did at one point a few years ago."
She clears her throat and glances over at Haven, not so subtly. "Wow," she mutters to herself.
"Excuse me?" Haven replies politely.
"Pardon me," the woman says. "I'm just surprised to see the two of you together, is all."
A small smile presses into the corners of Haven's lips. "Really? Why is that?"
"Well," the woman laughs nervously. "I'm sure you are aware of the allegations."
"Yes," Haven says surely. "I know that this man was wrongly placed behind bars for seven years...and I’m also aware of why it happened."
"Oh," she says, clicking a few buttons on her keyboard. "Wrongly?"
"I was the one who lied about my age, you know, like a lot of teenage girls do. Except, I got caught, and he paid the price."
"I see," the woman says, as her cheeks burn with a pink tinge.
"Who are you looking for?" the woman asks, lifting her head to look at me.
"Lauren Sullivan," I say.
The woman hovers her fingers above the keyboard, apparently lost in thought for a moment. Without typing in a word, she nods her head. "Oh, Lauren Sullivan. Yes, I believe she is living at Sutter's Assisted Living Facility. There was a bit of controversy when her mother died last year, and the town had to get involved in finding placement for her."
While it's a relief to know she is somewhere safe, I'm also very aware of what that place is like. They are constantly in the news for health code violations and lack of nursing care. Sutter's reputation permeates the whole town, and there isn't much good that goes in or comes out of that place.
"Thank you," I offer, backing away from the counter.
I figured Haven wasn't done with her point yet, but she surprises me by not saying anything else as we walk away. While making our way outside, she stops to look around. "You know what? I'm not sure I want to give my dad the week to make things right."
"Haven, we can't rush this," I tell her. "Trust me, I'm in more of a hurry to wipe him clean than anyone else, but one more week will be okay." While we sleep in motel rooms, hoping to have enough cash left over to eat. I don't work seven days a week at Crows, so I'm going to need to stretch this income.
"He doesn't deserve a week," she argues.
"I know, but who knows where he's keeping that money. We may not have a choice." I must believe what I'm saying is true, and at the same time, I'm doing my best to keep my hope stable, knowing what kind of man Frederick is. "Right now, I want to find Lauren. I need to know she's okay."
For what seems like the millionth time today, we walk across the town and into Sutter. The two towns together can't be more than a four-mile radius, but walking everywhere is taking a lot of time I feel like I don't have right now.
The moment we walk into the assisted living center, we're greeted with a horrendous smell of urine. People are walking around like zombies, and it doesn't appear that anyone cares about the torn carpeting, the peeling wallpaper, or the cotton exploding out of the two couches in the waiting area. This place is vile. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Haven agrees with my observation, but coming from the lifestyle she has lived, I know how hard she tries not to judge other ways of life, especially since she never should have been living the way she was.
At the front desk, a woman with greasy, white hair and thick bottleneck glasses with a faint pink rim, glances up at me, looking annoyed. "Can I help you?"
"I'm looking for Lauren Sullivan, please."
She glances at her notebook and flips through some papers before dragging her finger down the center of a page. "She's in room 102, just down the hall and to the right. Are you family?"
"Yes, ma'am. She's my sister," I respond without hesitation.
The woman closes the book and clasps her hands together on top of it while looking up at me with anger coursing through her eyes. "It took you quite a while to come and see her. Lauren is a very somber, lonely woman, you know."
"We were separated, ma'am, for reasons beyond my control."
With a slight raise to her white brow, she releases a heavy sigh. "Very well." She hands Haven and me a guest pass and a book to sign into.
My stomach twists and turns while we walk down the tainted hallway. I'm scared to see the way Lauren is living because I know how much it is going to hurt to confirm my fear.
We turn the corner and enter the room, finding the exact scene I didn't want to see. Lauren’s hair is everywhere, there are dark circles under her large eyes, and she looks as if she's aged twenty years since I last saw her. It takes her less than a second to recognize me and less than two seconds to stand up and run toward me, throwing her arms around my neck with incredible strength I didn't know she was capable of. "Rainnnne," she shouts. "My Rainnnne." My eyes swell with an unfamiliar sensation. I haven't shed a tear since Granddad died, not one, not for anyone, because I have lived in this constant state of fear that if I let anyone know how much I’m always hurting, people would know how truly weak I am inside. But Lauren has power over me that no one else will ever have. Tears spill out of my eyes and drip down my face onto her shoulder.
"I missed you so much, Lauren." I pull away from her a bit, needing to see her, but her eyes are squeezed shut, and her entire face is pursed with wrinkles. "Are you okay?"
"Mama died," she says. "Last year. She died."
"I know," I tell her. I take her hand and pull her across the room to a couple of chairs where I help her sit down.
"I'm happy you're here and not dead too," she says.
"Me too, Lauren. Is this place treating you okay?"
"It smells like pee," she says, scrunching her nose. "I don't like it but they said I don't have any other choices."
"I'm going to get you out of here," I tell her, something I know I can't promise right now, but if it's the last thing I do, I will get her out of here.
"Well, I don't see how after that man ruined our lives," Lauren says.
"Hi Lauren," Haven says with caution. "I'm Haven, Raine's friend."
Lauren looks between the two of us with confusion but then steadies her focus on Haven’s face. "But, I've only heard of one other Haven," Lauren says.
"Yeah...I am the mayor's daughter," Haven confesses.
Lauren clenches her fists against her sides and presses her lips tightly together. "Your father is a real jerk," she says while stomping her foot.
"Yes, he is," Haven agrees, "And I'm going to help Raine get back what belongs to both of you."
Lauren stares solidly at Haven for a long uncomfortable minute, but Haven doesn't look away. It's as if Haven wants her to read the truth in her eyes, and it's there. It's always been there. "Well, hurry up," Lauren says. "I don't like it here."
Haven reaches for Lauren's hand but only because I didn't mention Lauren's aversion to people touching her hands. The action happens faster than I can speak up. "No! Noooo! No hands. No hands!"
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," Haven cries out, cupping her hands over her chest.
I lean over to Lauren and place my hand heavily on her shoulder, which calms her when she's upset. "She didn't know," I tell Lauren.
"Don't touch my hands," Lauren affirms.
"She can't tolerate anything touching her f
ingers or hands. It causes a sensory irritation."
"I didn't know," Haven says grimly.
It takes a minute for Lauren to settle down and relax, and I can see Haven isn't about to give up as she's looking around the room, taking it all in. "What's your favorite color, Lauren?" Haven asks.
"Yellow," Lauren answers quietly. "Like the sun."
"You have no yellow in this room," Haven says.
Lauren looks around as if she needs to confirm what she already knows. "They won't let me have anything," she replies with despondence.
Haven glances at me, and I can see the gears turning but I'm afraid of what she might promise Lauren out of guilt, and I can't let that happen.
"Lauren," I say, kneeling in front of her. "I'm going to be working real hard this week to get you out of here. I can't make any promises, but I think if you make a really big wish, it might help."
"Okay," Lauren says, exhaling loudly. "But, Raine…do you promise not to forget about me again?"
I'm not sure how much more my heart can take today. Lenore must not have told her I was in prison. I don't know what she knows. "I never left you," I tell her.
Lauren crosses her arms tightly over her chest, and her bottom lip juts forward into a pout. "One day you were here, and the next day, you were gone. Mama said you were going to come live with us for a while and then you never came home."
"I was in prison," I tell her, keeping my voice as calm as possible, so I don’t scare her.
"Like, jail?" she whispers as if the word were a profanity.
"Yes, it was all a terrible mistake, and it's okay now, so I'm not going anywhere again. I won't leave you." I stare her right in the eyes, praying she believes me. I’m all she has, and she has to know I’m here for her. Always will be.
"I know," Lauren says, smiling wildly. She truly has a smile brighter than that damn sun she's always talking about. "It was nice to meet you, Haven."
Haven pulls in a shuddered breath and forces a pained smile. "I'm so happy I got to meet you," she says, keeping her distance this time. "When I see you next, I'll have something pretty and yellow. How does that sound?"
"Wow," Lauren says, "I would like that a lot."
I give Lauren a quick kiss on the cheek and a noogie—her not-so-favorite form of affection. "See you soon, Lauren."
"You messed up my hair, Raine," she drawls. "Now it looks almost half as bad as yours." Lauren's contagious laughter fills the room, and it gives me the calming relief I need to move forward and do what I must do over the next few days.
"We both look good, and you know it," I say, pointing at her with a wink. My stomach hurts as I leave Lauren behind, but I have faith in myself. I need to be able to save her from this.
There is a long lag of silence between Haven and me as we head in the direction of the motel. "She's amazing," Haven says. "We need to help her. She needs to be with you."
I swallow the lump in my throat while thinking the same thoughts Haven is speaking. "Lenore was much older when she had Lauren. I guess they didn't have those tests back then to warn you if something wasn't right with your child, or maybe it just didn’t matter to Lenore. From what I heard, though, when Lauren was born, Lenore didn't even flinch when the doctors told her about Lauren's condition. Lenore smiled and called her a gift from God. Granddad used to say the same thing." I take a quick breath as the thought of Lenore being gone sinks in a little further. I never got to say goodbye. The last time we spoke was the day I went to the shelter for breakfast, and she demanded I move in with them. I never thanked her for that either. She must have died while being ashamed of me, not knowing the truth. I'm not sure I'll ever get over that thought.
"Raine, the guilt for what I caused is starting to eat me alive," Haven speaks out above my silent thoughts. "How can you even stand to be around me?"
When I look at Haven, I don't find blame—not anymore. "Your father wanted me gone. If it weren’t for what happened between us, it would have been something else. I was the evidence he needed to hide.”
"I blame myself, though," she says. "I ruined your life, Lenore's life, and obviously, Lauren's. I'm just as bad as my parents, and I'm not sure you can convince me otherwise."
"I can't tell you how to feel, but I can encourage you not to think that way, or that is just one more way they win," I say.
"Even if we get all your money back, things still won't be okay," she continues.
"Haven, life is about forgiveness, remember?" I’m not coming off as convincing now as I had been trying to sound since I was released.
“I don’t know,” she says, sniffling back her tears.
“Hey,” I stop her from walking and twist her around by her wrist. “Look at me.” She’s right in front of me but won’t open her eyes. “I forgive you for your little white lie, and—”
Haven’s eyes reopen in search of the words to the end of my statement. “And?”
“You are the first woman I have ever loved, and I think I might want you to be the last.”
She gasps at my words, and while I thought I would have a hard time expressing that sentiment to her, I’m relieved to tell her how I feel. “You love me?” she asks.
“Honestly, through the anger I had all those years, every memory and thought of you I had made me fall in love with the person you were and I knew you’d become someday. I tried to deny it. I didn’t see how I could love someone I was so mad at, but I’ve come to realize, we don’t choose how or when our feelings develop for someone. It just happens, and it’s out of our control. I wasn’t sure I could ever look you in the eyes again after being released from prison, but it’s because I always knew if I did look into your eyes just once, I would know for sure that I could never be with anyone but you.”
Haven’s arms fly around my neck, right here in the middle of town where many people are watching. “I love you so much. I’ve loved you for so long, and I tried to make it go away because I thought you’d hate me forever, but my feelings only grew stronger. It hurt to consider a life without you in it.” She pulls back from our embrace and splays her hands across my cheeks as she presses her lips into mine. The whispers and gasps from around us blur into white noise as I focus my attention solely on the incredible sensations gushing through my chest, knowing this girl is finally mine.
32
Haven
We compromised on three days. Dad hadn't reached out or done a damn thing to right his wrong, so we're moving on to Plan B. I open the front door to the house and wave Raine in ahead of me. "I don't know why I never thought of this," Raine says.
"Clearly you're not as smart as I am," I say with a wink, as I pinch his butt.
"Hey now!” he hoots. “Let's not get ahead of ourselves, shall we?" Raine nudges me in the shoulder as I close the door behind us. "Are they home, you think?"
"Not sure. The garage doors were both closed, but that doesn’t matter." I walk through the house, peeking into every room, and as I pass by Dad's office to check the kitchen, I hear him speaking to someone on the phone. Good. He's home.
I point to his door, mouthing to Raine that he's here. "I'm kind of hungry, how about you?" Raine asks loudly.
"I'm starved," I reply, walking into the kitchen. "What can I make for you?"
Raine walks ahead of me and opens the fridge as if he lives here, rummaging through the items until he finds leftovers from a roast. He tosses it onto the counter, followed by mayo and a bag of bread. Doesn't Mom know that rich people have someone make bread for them? It typically isn't store bought. She never did get this whole rich woman act down. "Where are the knives?" Raine asks. “Oh wait, I know, Granddad hand built the knife block adjacent to the wall over there. He hung it just high enough so I couldn’t reach it until I was old enough to use knives. He was always thinking on his toes.”
I spin around for the knife block, never realizing it was here when we moved in, and grab a butcher knife just as I hear Dad's office door open. "Here you go," I say, handing it over to Raine
.
"Haven," he laughs. "You can't cut bread with a butcher knife."
"Oh, true," I reply. Feeling Dad's presence hovering behind me, I smile at Raine. "I've just gotten so used to reaching for the butcher knife while living with Bennett so long. I even took some self-defense classes in the center of town. You always need to be prepared when living with a psychopath. That should have been the name of the class."
"Life skills right there," Raine says, looking above my head. "I learned a thing or two myself while living in prison for seven years. Did you know you can kill someone with a plastic fork? Watched it happen twice." While I wasn't aware of this little fact, or that he had to watch this, I hope he's just speaking out of anger right now. It isn’t possible to kill with a plastic fork, is it?
"What are you doing?" Dad finally speaks out.
"Oh, Frederick," Raine says with an exaggerated chipperness. "How's it hangin’ old man? What are you doing here?"
"I live here," Dad grunts.
"Oh, Daddy," I say, spinning on my heels. I throw my arms around his neck and give him a kiss on the cheek. "I'm so glad you're staying with us for a couple of days."
"What the hell are you two doing? I'm going to call the sheriff in about thirty seconds if you don't get the hell out of my kitchen."
"Freddy, Freddy, Freddy, the sheriff won't be able to do much for you. You know, I always thought you were a smart man for being able to pull off some of the extravagant shit you've managed, but there's one small step you forgot while claiming what wasn't rightfully yours. Either that or you didn't do your due diligence to double check that your i's had been dotted and your t's crossed."
Dad clears his throat like he does when he’s uncomfortable...which isn’t often. "What are you saying?" There's a nervous inflection in Dad's voice now, and it's kind of exhilarating.
Raine's Haven Page 26