Chapter 22
Vaughn
As I jog up the stairs, I’m itching with the need to be with Rayne. I need to remember to talk to the owners of this building because whoever they have plowing does a shit ass job. They never throw any salt down, and I’ve almost busted my ass more than once.
When I reach the door, it’s cracked, and the key is still in it. I only have a brief second to wonder what happened before the blood in my veins turns colder than the arctic temperatures outside.
“Join us, please.” Petey doesn’t get his ass off my couch, and I slam the door closed behind me, only to see a knife at my girl’s throat and some motherfucker’s hands on her.
“Call your fuckin’ dog off, or I swear to God, neither one of you will walk out of here alive.” I clench my jaw and wait for him to do what I say.
He nods at the bastard who has Rayne, and he slides the knife into the case on his hip. After he loosens the arm around her waist, he shoves her at me. I use one hand to put her behind me and then fly at him and bash his jaw with my fist. He swings his right arm at me, and I use my left to grab the knife then kick his feet out, so he lands on his back. Without so much as a breath, I land on him and press the blade against his throat. “You ever. Ever,” I scream, “touch her again, and I will take this knife and cut your dick off before feeding it to you through your ass.”
“Dammit, Vaughn. Get off him,” Petey orders from the couch.
“Do you hear me?” I ask this dickwad, ignoring Petey’s commands.
He nods, but that’s not good enough for me.
“You a fuckin’ mute? Answer me!”
“I hear you.” He gasps and grabs at my arm.
I stab the knife into my wood floor a centimeter from his head and dig my knee into his stomach before I stand up. He crawls away, and I hold my hand out behind me for Rayne. She grabs it, I pull her behind me, and she takes hold of the back of my jacket. I try to reassure her everything will be okay by giving her thigh a squeeze.
I know why Petey’s here . . . and I know what he wants.
“Heard Dirt paid you a visit.”
I don’t confirm or deny but continue to stare at him. I’m trying my best to rein in my temper because I want them gone so I can try to explain this shit to Rayne.
“You know what happens if I don’t get my money.”
“And you know I couldn’t care less.”
“That’s cold, V.”
“That’s retribution.”
Petey stands up and motions for his guy to leave. Once he’s in the hallway, Petey comes closer, and Rayne’s body tightens behind me. His features relax momentarily.
“It’s only fifteen K, man. I know you got it.”
“I don’t owe you or her shit.” My stomach bottoms out saying it, but it’s the truth. It’s taken me over two decades to come to the realization, but still.
“Fuck, Vaughn. Don’t make me do it.”
“I’m not making you do shit.”
He takes the toothpick out of his mouth and shakes his head. “Two weeks.”
It’s already been a month since Dirt was here. I’m surprised it took Petey this long to come. “Don’t extend her deadline on my account. I’m not payin’ you shit.”
With his hand on the knob, he releases a humorless laugh. “You really are a stone cold bastard, aren’t you?”
Instead of dignifying his question with a response, I squint my eyes at him. He tosses a peace sign in the air and walks out. As soon as I hear the street level door shut, I turn and grab Rayne’s face with both of my hands. “You okay?”
“I think so.”
My throat dries up, and I pull her into my arms. “I’m so sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry, baby. This shouldn’t ever fucking touch you.”
A small tremor runs through her body, and she holds on for dear life. I wait for her to ask, and I debate on what I should answer.
“What’s going on, Vaughn?”
She doesn’t give me much time to construct a thought, so I just spill it. “My mother owes Petey money. Petey doesn’t take kindly to people stiffing him. As in, if you don’t pay up, you end up dead.”
“What does she owe him money for?”
“Drugs. Probably meth.”
I hear the gasp before she tries to cover it with clearing her throat. She lifts her head up and rests a hand on my cheek. “I have some money saved up. Not all of it, but I’m sure I could get more from my parents.”
My jaw unhinges, partly to reply, but mostly because I’m amazed by this selfless woman who has given me more in the months I’ve known her than I ever realized was even possible. “I love you. And I love that that’s the first thing you think. But no.”
“Well, do you have it?”
“What? The money?”
“I don’t want to pry, but I kind of assumed since you lived- I’m sorry. That was rude.” She thinks I’m broke. I don’t know if I should be insulted or touched that she’s still with me thinking I’m poor.
“You’re adorable.” I grab her hand and lead her to the kitchen where she sits at the table, and I grab a beer and then lean on the fridge. “You want one?”
“No.”
For a woman who just had a knife to her throat, she’s surprisingly calm. I grew up in that world, but I’ve been removed from it intentionally since I was eighteen. She’s never seen it but manages to remain levelheaded. Impressive. “I’ve got more money than I know what to do with, darlin’.”
Her eyes widen, and then the skin between them scrunches. The confusion is to be expected since I live in a shit hole and I drive an old ass truck. But I don’t see the need to get a new truck when the one I have still works fine. And this place, it’s only temporary. I don’t need much, so I don’t see a reason to get a bigger house.
“People pay a lot of money for me to tattoo them. I haven’t had anything to spend the majority of that money on.” Plus, I always swore to myself I’d never be in the position to be hungry or without a home, so I tend to be more frugal than most people are.
“Oh, okay. So you can give him the money.”
“I can. But I’m not going to.”
“What?” She raises her voice. “But you just said she’d end up dead.”
Before I tell her more, I ask her a question. “Have you ever thought about how I know people like the guys who were here earlier? Or the guys who were here last month? Or why I had to steal food?”
“I’m not trying to be judgmental, but you said you grew up in the valley, so I just assumed . . .”
“You’re right. We all grew up on the same block—Dirt, or Lenny is his real name, Petey, and me. We understood what it was like to fight to survive and to be hungry. We helped the other when we had to sleep on the streets because prostitutes were in . . .our bed.”
As I talk, her face pales, and her eyes become moist.
“They both had their hands in the proverbial drug pot since they were about twelve. I stayed away from that shit because even though I knew I was trash, I knew I wanted to get out of there. Plus, I was too busy scraping for food to waste any time on drugs. My mother is not a nice person, Rayne. She’s a vile, unsympathetic, cold, and cruel woman.”
“I’m so sorry.”
I take a swallow of beer and start peeling the label off. “Hell, babe. She sat back and watched every time my stepdad beat the shit out of me. Not one time did she try to stop it. She was the one who would lock me in my closet so she wouldn’t have to hear me crying after he’d break another one of my fingers.”
“No, Vaughn,” she whispers so quietly I can barely hear it.
“I don’t know how I survived, but I did. I wanted to get out of there, and I wanted something better. Every damn morning, I woke up and said a prayer that that day would be the one my mom would tell me she loved me. That maybe she’d stick up for me. I tried everything. When my stepdad would turn his anger on her, I fought for her. I fought for her!” I scream the last sentence and throw my beer bottle across the room. “Fuck.” I press my fists into my eyes.
“Vaughn.” Rayne’s shaky voice makes my drop my hands.
“My mom was passed out, and he . . .” I swallow the fucking lump in my throat. “I watched as he stuck a needle in his arm. It was nothing new for me to witness, but I was waiting for him to pass out too, so I could see if anything was in the pantry. I was starving. It only took a few seconds after he injected whatever the fuck it was before he started convulsing.”
She stands and grabs my arms. “Oh, my God.”
“I walked into the living room and stood over him and watched it.” My heart pumps, and my hands shake. The memories, the fucking nightmares—they begin to wrap around my throat as tight as my stepdad used to choke me. “Along with the blood from his nose and the foam from his mouth, I watched the life drain out of him. I didn’t even call the cops. I just went to my room and crawled under the sheet on my bed and waited. Pretended I was sleeping.”
“That had to have been awful for you.”
The laugh that comes out of me sounds more like a cry. “That wasn’t awful. What was awful was having my mom blame me and kick me out of the house because she thought I could have prevented it. She didn’t even know where I was more than half the time, nor did she care. So the fact she blamed me was preposterous. Actually, no, I take it back. It wasn’t awful; it was probably the best thing she could have done for me. I was homeless for about seven months before I was arrested for underage drinking, trespassing, vandalism, and curfew violation, and then spent the next three years in juvie until I turned eighteen and they shoved me out with no more than the clothes on my back.”
“You were just a child, Vaughn. My God, I can’t believe nobody stepped up to help.”
I don’t reply to her statement. I may have been young, but I knew right from wrong. “Maybe if I had saved him, she would have loved me even a little. She hates me. I don’t know what I did, but no matter how hard I tried, she never did. She never loved me, Rayne. All I ever wanted was for her to care, and she never did. She never fucking did. All I wanted was her to love me.”
Rayne wraps her arms around me and squeezes me harder than I thought possible for such a little thing. “Shh.” She grabs my face and presses her lips against mine. “I’m sorry, Vaughn. I’m so fucking sorry.”
I can’t even say anything as the emotions I’ve been avoiding pummel me harder than I’ve ever been hit in my life. I’ve never said those words out loud to anyone, and hearing them come through my lips scares the shit out of me. No matter how much I try to hate her and no matter how many times I try to forget about her, I fucking can’t.
She’s why I came back. When my stepdad died that night, I not only lost him, but I also lost the little bit of hope I had about my mom ever loving me. She never once visited me in jail, never once tried to call. And every fucking year when I send her a birthday card, she sends it back.
“You are a wonderful man, Vaughn. You are kind and compassionate. You’re incredibly thoughtful and fun and so, so caring. I love you. I love you so goddamned much. I know it’s not the same, but I don’t want you for one second to think you aren’t deserving of it.”
I kiss the top of her head and inhale her soothing scent.
“I’m not deserving, Rayne. I’ll never be deserving of your love, but since you’re willing to give it, I’m taking it, and I’m never letting go.”