Becoming Rain (Burying Water #2)(80)



He just shakes his head at me but he’s smiling. “The good with the bad?”

“Isn’t that life?”

He frowns. “Why do I sense a metaphor behind that?”

“Maybe there is a metaphor behind that.” One I can’t very well explain to him without describing the kinds of things I see every day in my life. The underbelly of society—where twisted morals reign and predators lurk, preying on the lost, the broken, the weak, the innocent. Where a thirteen-year-old sells her body rather than live under the same roof as her abusive parents, where punks gang-rape a drunk girl and then post pictures of it all over the internet so the world can relive it with her. Where a junkie mom’s drug addiction is readily fed while her children sit back and watch.

Where a father is murdered because he made the mistake of wanting a van for his family.

In that world, it seems like it’s raining all the time. A cold, hard rain that seeps into clothes, chills bones, and makes people feel utterly wretched.

Many times, I see people on the worst day of their lives, when they feel like they’re drowning. I don’t enjoy seeing people suffer. I just know that if they make good choices, and accept the right help, they’ll come out of it all the stronger for it.

What I do enjoy comes after. Three months later, when I see that thirteen-year-old former prostitute pushing a mower across the front lawn of her foster home, a quiet smile on her face. Eight months later, when I see the girl who was raped walking home from school with a guy who wants nothing from her but to make her laugh. Two years later, when I see the junkie mom clean and sober and loading a shopping cart for the kids that the State finally gave back to her.

Those people have seen the sun again after the harshest rain, and they appreciate it so much more.

Luke has seen only the gold watches and fancy cars, luxurious apartments and beautiful women, promises of endless money and opportunities. But sooner or later, he is going to face the storm that comes from the choices he has made. It’s going to pummel him where he stands, drown him in regret, punish him for his ignorance and greed.

I can only hope it’s harsh enough to make him leave this life behind for a new one. An honest one that he can be happy with.

I focus on the moss growing between the stones by my feet, unsure of what else to say except, “The world needs rain.”

“Well, I have you. Does that count?” When I dare raise my head, I find that his eyes aren’t on the trees or the pagodas. They’re on me. On me leaning against the arbor, on my long pencil skirt, on the low-cut tank top peeking out beneath my jean jacket, on my neck. “You’re not wearing your necklace today. You always wear that.”

My hand goes to my chest as I feign shock. “Oh, wow, I can’t believe I forgot that. I never do.”

“You almost done that with sandwich?” Luke peers up at the sky, squinting slightly as several drops land in quick succession on his forehead. “I think that downpour is coming sooner than we thought.”

“You afraid of getting a little wet?” I tease, wrapping half of my lunch back up and zipping it into my purse. I know he’ll eat it later.

“Are you?” I see the gleam in his eyes as he stands and my stomach explodes in a ball of flutters. Suddenly I feel like prey that’s about to be stalked, though I’m guessing Luke’s intentions are very different from that of, say, a lion stalking a gazelle.

Like a giddy teenager, I take off around the corner, weaving through the bushes and trees that I’m quite sure visitors are not allowed to touch, let alone run through. I make it all of fifteen feet before strong arms rope around my body and pull me down. Luke’s body breaks our fall.

“Well, this is kind of nice.” He peers up at the low-hanging bush that forms a thick canopy over us with a smirk. “Look at that. We’re totally hidden.” And then suddenly he has me on my back, pinning my arms down above my head with one hand. He’s right—we’re in a low-ceilinged lair, layers of broad-leaved branches cocooning us in a long, long tunnel.

Invisible to the unsuspecting eye.

The rain intensifies, and even under this protection, more and more droplets find their way between the overhang to land on us. Thank God I was smart enough to bring a nylon purse here and close it before I dropped it and took off. “Wow, it’s really coming down now. And it’s a cold rain. That can’t be good for your—”

Luke shuts me up with his mouth, shifting my thighs apart to fit against my body just right. I’m vaguely aware of the wet chill against my bare legs as Luke hikes my skirt up, until it’s pooling around my waist.

This is exactly what wasn’t supposed to happen today. But now that it’s started, I can’t stop it.

I don’t want to stop it.

“You good with this?” he whispers as he unbuckles his belt and unzips his jeans. I answer by intentionally stretching my thighs apart. The move makes him groan into our kiss, breaking free just long enough to tear the foil off a condom wrapper that he smoothly dug out from somewhere while I was writhing wantonly beneath him.

I hold my breath as fingers push my panties aside and I feel him lining himself up to slide inside me. There’s no foreplay this time and I’m okay with that. Just looking at him is foreplay right now. I haven’t stopped thinking about being with him again since—

“Hello?” a reedy female voice calls out.

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