Surviving Raine 01 (31 page)

“Don’t let go!”  She continued bawling and tried to talk through the tears, but I couldn’t understand what she was saying most of the time.  The only thing I could comprehend was the phrase she kept repeating: “Don’t leave me!”

“I won’t,” I said quietly.  I sat back on my heels and dragged her up against my chest.  Her arms went around my neck in a death grip that rivaled her hold on me when we were in the water.

“Tell me you got me,” I heard her whisper through her cries.

“I’ve got you, Raine,” I said.  “I’ve got you.  I’m so sorry…”

We sat on the sand until the sun began to set.  Not knowing what else to do, I picked her up and cradled her in my arms, holding her close to my chest while I walked slowly up the sandbank to the shelter.  My right leg tried to buckle again, but I trudged on.  I glanced sideways at the three bodies on the beach and realized I was going to have to do something about them – probably after Raine was asleep.

Frowning at the lean-to, which was starting to sag a little more than it did when we first built it, I wished I had the new shelter completed, but I’d have to make do with what was here.  I dropped down to my knees on the palm frond floor and lay Raine on her back.  She kept her grip on my neck, so I lay down beside her and wrapped her up in the blanket-towels and my arms as she continued to cry quietly.

I was still in a bit of a blood-lust haze, and the combination of that familiarity and the completely unfamiliar action of trying to comfort this woman was so completely incongruous, I really didn’t know what to think or feel or say.  I had to physically force my hands not to shake because the urge to kill was still running through my veins even though I knew there was no one left.  This feeling was not unexpected – I always had it after a tournament, which was at least part of the reason I would spend most of the night afterwards fucking.  It helped with the pent-up energy, and even some of the need for violence.  This was so different, however, because even though I wanted to fuck her again, I didn’t want to feel violent towards Raine.  The ambivalence was mind-blowing.

I swallowed hard and tightened my hold on her.  The shaking of her limbs had slowly subsided, and she was now sniffing against my shoulder.  I felt her take in a deep breath and try to let it out slowly, but it caught in her throat a couple of times, making it ragged and uneven.

I wanted to do…to do…
something
.  At least say something, I just didn’t know what to do or say.  While I contemplated, Raine sighed heavily and dropped off to sleep in my arms, letting the exhaustion overtake her.  My thumb wiped the remaining tears from her face, and my lips pressed into the hair at the top of her head.  I was exhausted as well and tempted to just join her in slumber, but I knew I had work to do first.  Waking up to the remnants of this nightmare is not what I wanted her to do in the morning.

I snaked out from under her, hoping there would still be enough light for me to get rid of the bodies on the beach.  As soon as I tried to stand, my leg gave out from under me and I had to catch myself awkwardly on my hand to keep from falling on top of her.  I hissed softly and then twisted to look at the back of my thigh.

Looking at it wasn’t enough of a reminder at first, but then I thought back to right after I smashed Buzz-cut’s knee.  I remembered the pressure at the back of my leg and knew I had been cut.  It wasn’t horrible, but it didn’t look good, either.  After shuffling a couple of feet out of the lean-to, I turned my leg to the side so I could get a better look.  My fingers went to either side of the cut, pulling at it slightly to see how deep it really was.  More blood began dribbling out of the wound.  It needed a handful of stitches, undoubtedly.  I wondered if I could do that to the back of my leg and decided I would never get the angle right.  I’d have to have Raine do it.

When I looked back to her, she was on her side and completely out.  There was no way I was going to wake her up at this point.  I took a deep breath and pushed myself to my feet, ignoring the pain and my body’s desire to let my leg buckle.  I forced my leg to take my weight and hobbled off to the beach, deciding to ignore the blood running down the back of my calf until a more opportune time presented itself.  It wasn’t bleeding enough to cause any serious concern, so I didn’t worry myself with it at all.

I found our clothes still lying in the sand.  At least the tide hadn’t come in and washed them away.  Now
that
would have sucked.  They were wet and sandy, so I shook them out a little before tossing them up the beach close to the small dune below the shelter before heading towards the bodies.

The bodies were easy to spot, obviously.  I could see darkened pools of blood all over the sand and wondered how the fuck I was going to get all that cleaned up before morning.  I sighed and debated the best course of action for the corpses.  Toss them out to sea, and they just might end up washed back on shore.  Raine didn’t need to see that.  I decided on cremation and started pulling the bodies together on the beach.

The stench was just fucking incredible.  I shook my head as if that would make the smell dissipate from the air around me.  I dragged the final body – Dreadlocks – over to the burning pile.  Like a fucking sledgehammer, it hit me that he had had his hand on her breast.  I lost it.  I completely and totally lost it.

My fists flew out, pounding flesh and bone into the sand.  My hand opened and clawed at his skin, scarring and tearing at it.  I retrieved my jackknife from his neck and cut the skin around his head, ripping the coiled hair away and flinging it into the fire where it sizzled and added to the stench.

By the time I was coherent enough to try and calm myself, the scraps of flesh in front of me were no longer recognizable as human.  It didn’t help.  I wished he’d magically spring back to life so I could make him hurt again.  I wanted to tear out his entrails and shove them down his throat while he choked.  I wanted to slice off each finger that had made contact with her skin, one knuckle at a time, and pound them into his skull with a fucking hammer.

Looking down, I noticed I was not only still naked but covered in thick, coagulated blood again.  I pushed myself off what was left of Dreadlocks and threw the scraps into the huge fire.  Once he was burning nicely, my feet carried me back down the beach and to the water’s edge.  I went into the water to wash the blood off and ran through the last few hours in my head primarily from the time Raine stopped me from further mutilating a corpse on the beach to carrying her back to the shelter.

I had to be the biggest dick to ever live.

After everything she had been through – and I didn’t even know what they might have done or said before I got there – I threw her down in the sand and fucked her like a common fucking whore.  I sure was a hell of a catch.  Note sarcasm.  I had to be the worst fucking…what was I?  Her boyfriend?  Girlfriend wasn’t enough to describe what she was to me, and I had probably just fucking ruined it like the stupid motherfucker I was.  I wondered if I could manage to beat myself up like that guy in
Fight Club
did in front of his boss.

Growling at myself, I stomped up the beach, pulled on my nearly dry shorts, and tossed my belt over my shoulder.  The back of my leg stung from the contact with the saltwater, but I deserved whatever fucking pain I had because I was such an ass.  Actually, I undoubtedly deserved a lot more.

Raine’s bloodcurdling scream brought me out of my musings.  Despite the pain in my leg, I ran back to the shelter.

“Raine!  Raine, what is it?”

“Bastian!” she screamed again and threw her arms around my neck.  The sobs and shakes were back, and I could barely stay upright between my injured leg and her added weight.  “You were gone…you were gone…”

“Jesus, Raine, I’m sorry,” I stammered.  After never uttering a single apology in my entire adult life, how many fucking times had I said “sorry” to her automatically in the past few hours?  “I was just down the beach, baby.  I wasn’t far.”

“Don’t leave me!”

“I won’t, baby,” I maneuvered her back onto the fronds on the ground and lay beside her, trying not to wince too much.  “I’m right here.  I’m not going anywhere, I swear.”

“Tell me you got me!”

“I’ve got you.” I held her head against the crook of my neck and shoulder and whispered into her ear, “I’ve got you.  Baby, you’re safe.  Don’t be scared.  I’ve got you.”

I closed my eyes and just held her against me, telling her over and over again that I had her – she was safe.  I moved her so she was on her side, but I was still over the top of her, keeping her warm and surrounding her body with my own.  I wrapped my arms and even one of my legs over her, cocooning her in my embrace and holding her as tightly as I dared.  Outside the shelter, I could still hear the crackling and see the flickering light of the macabre bonfire on the beach.

“Why did you build a fire?” Raine asked softly, her eyes still hidden in my neck.

“Just a little cleanup,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t ask any more of her usual questions but knowing she would anyway.

“You burned the bodies?”  Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Yeah.”  I sighed heavily and waited for the next barrage of questions.

She was quiet for all of about thirty seconds.

“What about the bones?”

Of all the ridiculous things to harp on, she decides to wonder which body parts are going to burn best.

“I’ll get rid of them when the fire’s out.”

Again, another thirty seconds of blissful silence.

“Who were they?” she asked, her fingers digging even deeper into the skin of my shoulders.  I shook my head, not really wanting to give her my assumption on the matter.  Even though I had told her about all the shit I did, and she now knew some of the sordid details of life outside the law, I didn’t want her to know everything.  I didn’t want to tell her about the stuff that was, in my opinion, much worse, the kind of shit I wouldn’t touch no matter what the stakes or the payoff, but I knew plenty of people who did.

“Hard to say,” I shrugged.  I tried to brush it off, but she wasn’t buying it.  Apparently, I was a fucking shitty liar when it came to her.

“Who were they, Bastian?” she repeated.  Her hand went to the side of my face and tilted my head towards hers.  “Tell me.”

“You really don’t want to know.”  I took a deep breath and blew it out my nose, not wanting to go there.  Knowing what they could have had planned for her in my own head was bad enough.  I didn’t want those thoughts going through hers as well.  She glared at me, and I knew any more fight on my part was pointless.  I sighed heavily and closed my eyes.  “Slavers, I think.”

“Slavers?”

“Yeah.”

“As in people who…sell people?”

“Yeah.”

“What would they have done with me?” she asked quietly.

“Raine, for fuck’s sakes,” I growled.  I had a limit, and I had reached it.  “You don’t want to think about it. 
I
don’t want to think about it.  Don’t make me fucking say it!”

This time she lasted a whole minute.

“I was so glad when I first saw them,” Raine said, and I felt her grip on me tighten a little.  “I had no idea…”

“What do you mean?”

“When I first heard the boat,” she clarified.  “I ran down to the beach, and when I got their attention and I saw the boat turn, I was jumping up and down because I was so happy to see them.  I couldn’t wait for you to get back so I could tell you we were rescued.”

“Oh.”  It was my only response.  The more I thought about it, the more I found the whole idea unsettling for multiple reasons.  My focus had been on ripping the motherfuckers apart, not how they got here or why they chose to land here.  They probably would have gone right by if she had been asleep and not heard them.

“I thought they were going to help us.  I’m so stupid.”

“It’s okay, baby,” I told her, holding her head back down to my shoulder and kissing her softly on her forehead.  “You couldn’t have known what they were.  It doesn’t fucking matter now because they aren’t going to fuck around with anyone else.”

Two minutes.

“You scared me.”

“I know.”  What else could I say?  Shit.  “I’m sorry, Raine.  I didn’t mean to scare you, especially…after…on the beach, when I…shit.”

“That didn’t scare me,” she scoffed.  “You just…needed it.”

Yeah, I needed to fuck her senseless after she had been in danger of being gang-raped. I hadn’t asked her or anything I had just taken from her because I wanted it.  Nice.  What a fucking asshole.

“Why are you looking like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you are mentally beating yourself up.”

“Raine…shit.”  I took a couple of deep breaths but couldn’t look her in the eye.  “It just…proves I’m not…good enough for you.”

“Bastian, that doesn’t even…”

“I made you cry,” I said softly.  The words hurt coming out of my throat.

“You didn’t make me cry,” Raine insisted.

“Why were you crying then?” I demanded.  I didn’t know what she was trying to do – make me feel better for being a dick?  I wasn’t going to put up with that shit.  What I had done was…fucking horrible.  It was probably worse than when I hit her.

I’m such a fucking asshole.

“It was just…everything,” Raine finally answered.  “I was so…elated when I first saw them and realized they had seen me and they were going to land.  When they got to the beach and came up to me, I knew something was wrong right away.  I didn’t know where you were or when you would be back.  They…they surrounded me.”

Her voice dropped low, and I pulled her closer to my chest.

“I didn’t know what to do,” she continued.  “I knew I should scream in case you were close enough to hear me, but I couldn’t make any sounds.  Then the one guy grabbed me and…and then you were there, and I knew I would be all right, but then he pulled me onto the boat, and you couldn’t get there…”

Her breath hitched, and her fingers pulled at my skin.

“How did you get on the boat?  I couldn’t figure it out.”

“He didn’t pull in the anchor, so I went up the anchor line.”