Protecting Rayne

Home > Other > Protecting Rayne > Page 17
Protecting Rayne Page 17

by Emily Bishop


  “Yep. On it.”

  I can still hear the shake in her voice, but I don’t imagine Larry can. She’s hiding her fear quite well, in fact.

  “You people think you’re so much better. You deserve to suffer. Everyone deserves to know the pain that I have felt.”

  “Oh? And what pain is that?”

  I don’t know why I ask this. Maybe I want to keep him distracted, keep him focused on me. Rayne has already seen enough of this asshole to last a lifetime. I’m happy to take his attention, his ire away from her if it means it will keep her safe.

  Bring it on.

  “None of your fucking business, that’s what. You’ve never lost anything that matters. Maybe once I take care of Rayne, you’ll know what this feels like.”

  “Hmm, that does sound tempting, but I think I’m going to have to pass. Thank you so much for the offer though.”

  He thrashes against me again, enraged by my sarcastic tone. I’m torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to beat this asshole to a fucking pulp for what he did to Rayne, what he did to me. It’s a little satisfying to know that we were right about his presence here.

  Now I have to make sure he gets taken care of.

  Rayne appears from the hallway with the length of rope draped over her shoulder.

  “Got it,” she says. Her eyes are wide as I look up at her. I’ll help her out with the shock of this in a moment, but I need to make sure that Larry gets secured.

  “See that? She’s bested you again! I bet that stings a little, huh, Larry?”

  “I’ll kill you both. I’ll make it long and painful, too. You’ll wish I’d gotten you this time. You’ll beg for mercy in death.”

  “OK, someone’s taken one too many grumpy pills. Let’s get you all settled in, shall we?”

  I hold out my hand for the rope, and Rayne hands it to me with cold, trembling fingers. Her fear reignites the anger in me, and I turn Larry around and thrust his face into the floor. I don’t bother being gentle about it.

  “Thank you, Rayne. Can you prop up that chair, please?”

  She does as I ask, and I heft Larry, who is a bit muscular, I must say, onto the chair. He struggles, but I hold him firmly in place. This asshole isn’t going anywhere. I tie the rope as tight as I can around him, making sure the rope digs into him.

  “What is this, a train robbery? You think tying me to a chair is going to solve your problem? You have no idea who you’re dealing with. You—”

  I can’t listen to this asshole anymore. I tear a piece of curtain down and shove it into his mouth then tie another piece around it, effectively gagging him. His eyes are filled with rage as he tries to no avail to threaten us through the fabric.

  I take a step back and brush my hands off on my pants, the better to get his stink off me. We’re done with Larry Corker, and when I glance up at Rayne, I smile.

  The nightmare is about to end.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Rayne

  Lorn smiles at me, but I can’t relax. Not yet. The man who has made my life hell is still squirming and wiggling in a chair. He’s wiry, but it’s clear that he’s strong. He pulls and tugs at the ropes around him, and the chair tips over.

  “Argh!” he says through the cloth of the curtain. A long stream of what I assume are curses pour from his mouth directly into the cloth, and I tremble.

  I can’t believe that this is over. I simply can’t process it. A hand touches my arm, and I jump back.

  “Hey, hey.” Lorn’s voice is hushed and gentle, like he’s calming a jittery horse. He holds up his palms and moves a little closer until he touches my arm again. This time I don’t back away.

  “It’s done. We’ve caught him.”

  I’m about to respond when three men stomp their feet on the front porch. One older man and two younger step over the door and take in the little scene.

  I imagine it’s quite the sight.

  The eldest one looks up at Lorn and lifts a furry, silver eyebrow. “It would appear as though your suspicions were correct.” His lip twitches. “It would also appear that you were right in being able to handle it.”

  Lorn nods to the man and his partners, who are both taking in Larry with suspicious and amused glances. “Roger. Not a moment too soon, as usual.”

  Somewhere in my muddled mind, the name Roger rings a bell, but I can’t quite pinpoint it. Was he the caretaker? If so, who are the men with him? His sons? They all bear a striking resemblance.

  “So, what seems to be the trouble here?” His gaze darts between Lorn and myself, and he seems to realize that I don’t know who he is.

  “My apologies, Miss. My name is Roger. I’m the sheriff in these parts. These are my two boys, Jared and Sam. Once the snow stopped, we were able to finally get up the mountain to do some questioning.”

  “Did you find anything out on the guy before you got up here?” Lorn asks.

  One of the younger men, Jared, I think, nods and glares down at Larry, still helpless and sideways on the floor. I have no inclination to help right him.

  “This dude has a record, besides the murder. We did some digging and found enough to arouse our own suspicions. I found an article that mentioned he had it out for the millionaire’s daughter at the end of the trial.”

  My eyes widen at this piece of news. “You did?”

  “I saved the article right here.” He pulls out his phone and opens up a saved image, knowing that there wouldn’t be signal up here. He scans through until he reaches the important part.

  “As the criminal was escorted from the courtroom, he locked eyes with the victim’s daughter and mouthed what appeared to be some kind of threat. As of press time, that statement has not been collected nor confirmed.”

  My legs buckle, and before I can collapse, Lorn catches me and guides me toward the sofa.

  “Someone knew. Someone saw. This whole time, I thought I was alone.”

  “You’re certainly not alone now.” Lorn sits beside me and strokes the back of my hand as he looks back up at the mini police force. “I’m glad you all made it up. This one might have some talking to do.”

  “Would the lady like to step outside for this?” Roger asks with a pointed look at me.

  I shake my head. I wouldn’t miss this confession for the world. The more witnesses and the more I hear personally, the better. With that gesture, Roger nods his head and grips the back of Larry’s chair with calloused, thick-fingered hands. He jars him upright, and from where I’m sitting I can see the twisted glare in Larry’s eyes.

  Roger bends over to look him in the face. “Hi, there, Mister Corker. I’ve heard quite a bit about you. Looks like you’ve gotten yourself into a bit of trouble up here, eh? This ain’t the big city, after all. We follow up on suspicious leads here. Would you like me to free your mouth now?”

  Larry continues to glare at him in silence, and Roger breaks out into laughter.

  “I’ve always wanted to ask someone that while they’re gagged. It’s like being at the dentist, you know? When they ask you a question and then dig that little tool right into your tooth?”

  He gestures his finger like a little hook going upward into Larry’s face. The man flinches away, and Roger grins.

  “Yeah. You’re not going to get away with things up here, boy. Let’s see if you have anything to say for yourself.”

  I glance over at one of the deputies. He’s pulled out his phone and pressed a button out of Larry’s line of sight.

  They’re recording.

  Roger struggles with the bonds behind Larry’s head, and he glances up at Lorn in annoyance.

  “You had to bind him down that tight?” he asks with a huff. He tugs the cloth back, and Larry grimaces with a protest.

  Lorn shrugs. “Didn’t have time to think on it. Too busy saving a lady’s life.”

  “He made another attempt?” He asks, his voice terse.

  Lorn nods, and Roger tugs a little harder on Larry’s gag. He shouts into the cloth, but his protest
is ignored. Finally, the knot untangles, and Roger pulls it free.

  “Fucking fuck! All of you can burn in hell!” Larry spits. His face is bright red from the cloth, and I notice little cuts along his cheeks that bleed.

  Such a shame. Really.

  “Good start. Now I’m going to make this real easy for you, Larry. Why don’t you tell us what you were doing up here attacking a fine lady like Miss Carr, mm?”

  Larry glares up at the man. “I’m not telling you shit.” He hocks a loogie and spits it onto the nice wood floor.

  Roger pulls up a chair and faces it backward, then sits on it as he faces Larry. I watch as if from a distance, like I’m on my couch watching a good crime show, only this crime show is real, and it’s my life.

  “That’s a shame, my friend. I heard that you couldn’t have done it anyway, though. I mean, you can say anything you want in prison, but once you get out? I know you don’t have the balls to pull it off.”

  Larry’s face turns a shade of puce as he glares daggers at Roger. Even I can see what he’s doing, but Larry is blinded by his own hatred. “You’re a moron. I killed her father. I could have easily killed her, too. In fact, I’ll never stop trying, so you may have won today, but she will die by my hand. Make no mistake. I will kill her.”

  Roger glances up at the deputy with the cell phone. “You got that? He said no matter what happens, he’ll try and kill her. Did everyone hear that correctly?”

  Everyone nods, including me. Lorn squeezes my hand in his, but I still can’t stop shaking. This is like when my father died. I’m in shock again, and my body is doing everything it can to keep functioning while my mind forces me to hold it together.

  Roger looks back at Larry with a wicked grin. “Thank you for your testimonial. While it’s clear that you have violated your parole, I find it much more useful to have an actual recorded confession from the perpetrator before we head back to plead the case. Now that the world will know your true intentions, I don’t imagine you’ll be out on good behavior again. Do you?”

  Larry’s eyes dart from Roger to the deputy with the recording device, and for the first time since I’ve seen him again, he looks genuinely afraid. His eyes are wide, and sweat drips down his temple. His lip trembles as he moistens it. Then he speaks.

  “You wouldn’t send a man back to jail. You have no idea what it’s like in there.”

  “Actually,” Lorn chimes in, “I know exactly what it’s like. That place will teach you some lessons, if you’re willing to learn them.”

  Larry casts a wild glance at Lorn then looks back at the sheriff. “You’re a good man. You know that people are broken and beaten down by life. Give a man a chance. I can get better, I need to get the proper therapy.”

  His voice is pleading, cajoling. I imagine this is exactly the case he gave his social worker in prison to get off.

  Roger’s eyes soften as he gazes down at the man, and he leans in close. I almost can’t hear what he says next, but I’m glad that I do. “No fucking way, you psycho.”

  Roger leans back and looks up at his sons. “Sam, Jared, can you cuff this asshole—excuse my language, miss—this criminal, and drag him to the back of the truck? Once we get into cell-reception area, make sure that recording gets uploaded into the cloud.”

  The younger men nod, and they surround Larry. Sam slaps a pair of steel handcuffs on him while Jared unties him from the chair. Larry tries to jerk free one last time, and Roger knees him in the groin. He collapses as the younger men drag him out the door.

  “Don’t want to add resisting arrest to the record, do you, Larry?” Roger taunts on their way out the door.

  Larry releases an animalistic scream that echoes across the mountains. Roger crouches down in front of me. His eyes are pale blue. I never noticed before, because I was a little busy facing down my father’s murderer.

  “You all right, Miss Carr?” His voice is warm and gentle, without the sneer that he used on Larry. To my shame, my eyes fill with tears, and I release a sob as I let go all the stress and fear that have dictated my life for so long.

  Lorn holds me as I cry, and Roger pulls out a small pack of tissues. He opens it and hands one to me.

  “It’s over, Miss. We’ve got him on record with a violent threat toward your person. He won’t be set free again. I’ll add to the report that he tried to swindle me with the same BS that worked on those inner-city prison folks. He won’t be able to sweet talk his way out this time.”

  I release Lorn’s hands for a moment so I can squeeze Roger’s.

  “Thank you,” I whisper. I wipe away streaks of tears with his proffered tissue, and Roger beams at me. He gives my hands a firm squeeze, and then he stands.

  “Thank you. You gave this town some great gossip for at least the next two years. It’s a pretty boring place around here, Miss Car. Not every day we get celebrities fighting down their own stalker, tying him up, and gagging him before we even arrive. Makes for a great story.”

  “Well, I didn’t…” I say, but Lorn interrupts.

  “I can’t believe she did it either. You know gossip though. It always finds a way of growing into a more embellished version.”

  He winks down at me, and a million pounds lift from my shoulders.

  I am free.

  I can’t help but grin up into his handsome, wonderful face.

  “Yes, it certainly does,” I agree. “But at least some of us will be here to tell the tale.”

  He cups my palm in his and laces his fingers between mine. “I certainly hope so,” he says with a gleam in his eye.

  Wait until he hears what I have planned.

  Chapter Thirty

  Lorn

  I kick my feet up on the desk in a back office at the main cabin and stare out into space.

  I don’t think Rayne knows yet that it’s been exactly a year since she first rented out this place. My desk is littered with paperwork that I need to get through, but I can’t bring myself to work on it yet. There’s so much more I want to do that doesn’t involve this place, but so much has changed in the past year.

  It’s so much better.

  I run my fingertips along my neatly trimmed beard and open a side drawer. I pull up a few manila folders and take out a small snippet of newspaper from underneath.

  I remember the day I read this so vividly. The headline is small. So small you might even miss it, if you weren’t looking. I hold it up and read the words I’ve read so many times before.

  Obituary

  Larry Corker, convicted of murder in the first degree and sent back to prison after another attempt on the daughter of his victim, passed away in prison at 2:45 this morning. While the death appears to be a suicide, there is suspicion of foul play. Investigations continue.

  It’s small. It doesn’t talk about the people who will mourn Larry, who will miss him now that he is gone. I know I should relish in that. He tortured Rayne. He caused more hurt than any human ever should. I certainly don’t forgive him for that, but when Rayne read the article, she frowned.

  “So, he’s gone. For good.”

  I nodded and took her into my arms as she trembled, as she always does when talk of Larry Corker comes up.

  “You are truly free, now,” I whispered into her hair. The scent of sweet honey absorbed my senses, matching her color perfectly.

  “Yes,” she breathed. “But it still makes me sad. Larry only was the way he was because he wasn’t given the love and support he needed growing up. He deserved more.”

  I lifted an eyebrow at her in surprise, but she shrugged a shoulder.

  “That doesn’t mean I forgive anything he’s done. It just makes me sad.”

  Sitting in my office, reading through his obituary again, I’m reminded of how much I love Rayne. She is the kindest, most generous person in the world. I wouldn’t be human again without her, and that’s saying something.

  I never thought I’d be whole ever again.

  As if summoned by my thoughts, Rayne pokes
her head into the office, her eyes bright with excitement. “Are you seriously hiding in here? You’re not backing out, are you?”

  I grin up at her and slide the newspaper back into the drawer. I close Larry Corker and the past away and stand as I walk over to her. I place a gentle kiss on her temple and wrap my arm around her shoulders as I guide her down the hall.

  “I would never. And face your wrath?”

  She beams up at me. “That’s right. I am capable of torturing you, you know. I have many ways to do that.”

  “And I love them all,” I say, thinking of all the ways she’s “tortured” me since deciding to stay up on the mountain.

  We step out from the back hallway and into the main room. The place is completely transformed. Where there were once a smattering of bar games and pool tables, there is now a series of trendy lodge-style wood tables and chairs. Wide, comfy sofas are scattered around the space, and there’s a bar with stools lined in front of it. Every space is filled with guests.

  It’s a totally different place.

  “Rayne! Rayne! Over here!”

  A woman’s voice trills as a brunette with a little too much makeup on approaches and sticks her hand out. “Lorn Hart, what a pleasure it is to meet you. Thank you so much for taking the time to do this interview.”

  Reluctantly I remove my arm from around Rayne’s shoulder and shake the woman’s hand. “Suzie Wells. It’s nice to meet you, too. Thank you for doing this exclusive.”

  “Of course,” she twitters. She is aglow with excitement, and I can hardly blame her. She’s getting the inside scoop on society’s most mysterious couple. What could be better?

  “Of course! I always knew you were innocent of that woman’s claims. I’m glad I can finally prove that you’re not the man she said you were.”

  I nod. I don’t feel angry when people bring up Natalie anymore. I guess it’s hard to care when you’re happy.

  Isn’t that something?

  “You were one of the few who didn’t disparage my name for news. It’s a big reason why you’re here today.”

  “I will always posit that true journalism isn’t dead. Not yet,” she says with a wink.

 

‹ Prev