25. Rain

W e are in the golf cart pulling up to Nate’s and I am still shocked.

“And you didn’t even wake me up? What if I wanted to watch?” I say to E, irritated. As we drove past his car outside, that’s when I saw him , laying there frozen.

I’m pissed.

I’ve never seen a person be dragged behind a car before.

E side-eyes me. “I wake you, you're annoyed. I don’t wake you, you're annoyed. What did your little research say about psychopaths around this?”

I know he’s making fun of me now.

“Obviously, you wouldn’t know to wake me. You pick up on my cues. I get annoyed when woken up,” I say, rolling my eyes.

His arms spread wide, as if to say, see .

“Did you know freezing to death is apparently one of the more painful ways to go? It starts with the fingertips, toes, nose, and ears. Which are the worst parts. Once it reaches your internal organs, it’s like nothing. But the initial start of it, apparently hell,” he throws back at me.

I laugh sarcastically, “Oh, doing your own research now?”

As we park, he looks over at me. “Obviously. I’ve had a guy attached to my car in the cold for two days. Skin scraped off with muscles and nerves exposed, I was curious.”

And when will the dead man be leaving our driveway?” I ask.

A loud groan leaves him as he throws his head back. “I’ll be in the woods after this, sorting him out.”

His annoyance brings a smile to my face.

Getting out of the cart, we walk up to the large door and let ourselves in. E continues walking farther into the home he grew up in.

I wonder if his room is still here, unchanged. Or did Nate turn it into something like parents do once the kids leave the nest?

I glance up to the second floor. E must have noticed I wasn’t behind him. “What are you looking at?”

With my head still lifted, my eyes shift to E. “Was your room up there?” I say with curiosity.

Walking back over to me, he replies, “Uh, yeah.”

He doesn’t get it. A childhood room is sacred. The memories and the innocence, all possibly preserved upstairs. Perhaps not so innocent in his case. Regardless, there is something priceless about getting to relive those precious memories.

“Can I see it?” I take a deep breath in as I ask, because I’m nervous he won’t want to. His shoulders shrug, then he begins going up the large, grand staircase, hollering back, “You coming?”

Rushing behind, he leads me up, and instead of going across the second-floor balcony, we turn down the hallway. The cream walls are lined with thick, dark chocolate wood trim which matches the border of the flooring, which frames the cream carpet. A few rooms line the hall. The shine of the sun peeks through each doorway, except for one. The same one we stop in front of. I notice his breathing picks up, becoming more loud as he exhales through his nose. My hand touches his back gently. “We don’t have to do this.”

Shaking me off, he says, “No, it’s fine.”

His hand reaches the dark, circular metal knob, and it creeks as he turns it. The latch clicks, and the hinges creek the same way. Like no one has been in here since he left ten years ago.

The blinds are closed, so no sun shines in this room. It’s dark as we step in. E flicks the light switch, and my sneezes follow.

Completely untouched.

The dome light shines down on the space. Thick dust covers the wooden shelves with matching furniture. Along with anything else it could latch itself onto.

His twin bed is against the same wall as the window, the bedding is black which matches the wooden frame. Two hand-drawn pictures by a small child are the only things decorating the walls. On white paper, done in crayon, a stick-figure boy with his bat standing alongside his stick-figure dad. Next to them, a stick-figure woman in a triangle dress lays headless on the ground. Toward the edge of the paper, the head rests with X’ s for eyes.

His mom.

Another one has black scribbles on it. I’m unsure of the meaning, but today is not the day to ask. This must be overwhelming to E, which worries me as dealing with emotions such as his own can be difficult.

I walk across the once cream carpet, which now looks like a filthy brown, to the shelves. One book is on it. As I touch the delicate leather binding, I realize it’s a photo album. The laminate pages tickle my fingers as I drag them along the top of it. “Can we take this?”

E clears his throat. As I peer over, I see him standing at his bed. “Yeah, I will have Rogers bring it over.” His tone is stoic.

“I slept here each night since I was five, with my bat next to me. Even during the night, I never let it go. My dad never made me feel different. He embraced my darkness.” He pauses briefly before continuing, “My mom was a fucking mess. Their room was across the bridge, that’s what I called it when I was little. But she always made a point to come stand outside of my door when she felt like screaming at my dad about me. ‘The boy isn’t normal. We should be sending him away, not encouraging this madness. He is no son of mine!’ were a few of the things she would say while doped up on pills. I always hated her. But I knew when I was ten, I had to leave with her. It was my last chance to experience shit outside of Vail before having to come back. It’s what led me to you, little bat.”

A single tear runs down my cheek to my chin, then drops onto my sneaker.

His head turns, looking over to me. “Don’t cry for me, little bat. I’m not. She got what she deserved. I just had to play the long game.” The corner of his lip lifts, his teeth playing with his lip ring mindlessly.

“Rain. Elijah,” Nate yells from somewhere in the house. We both look in the direction of the voice, then back to each other. E makes the first move, flicking the switch and returning the room back to its dark state. I follow behind, stepping into the hallway and allowing him to close the door.

He shouts back, “Coming,” as we move down the hall and back down the stairs. As we do, I swear from the corner of my eye, I see a tiny frame with long, black hair disappearing into another room. I look again, but no one’s there and I can’t hear anything.

Perhaps my eyes are playing tricks on me.

We make our way downstairs and find ourselves in Nate’s familiar office, which smells of leather, cigars and vanilla. Sitting on the brown leather couch, I curl my legs into myself then cover them with my oversized sweater. E sits next to me, leaned back and his legs spread.

Nate is sitting behind his desk. This is the first time I have seen him so casual, wearing an army green Henley with gray sweatpants. His signature glasses are missing and his hair is disheveled as he rakes his tattooed fingers through it, moving the stray pieces off his face.

That’s when it occurs to me, Vail gets cold, Vail gets gray sweatpants season. I hide my smirk behind my sweater neckline. Acting like I’m cold, warming myself up.

Nate doesn’t bring up E’s bedroom. He has always been good about not pushing him.

“You both did exceedingly well during The Reckoning. The Elders were most impressed with your display of your party favor at the end. And your uncle won’t be missed, rest assured. With that, Elijah, you will be my right hand now. You are truly the only one I can trust in this organization. I’m not sure if you are aware, our Bishop was taken out the other night as well. Change in leadership is upon us. I’ve been assured nothing will change for our family. Now that you have returned, our family officially oversees the discipline and removal of garbage. While still keeping the police and judges under my portfolio. And Rain will be your right hand. The three of us need to stick together during this time of transition within the organization.” He pauses, rubbing his hand over his face while letting out a deep sigh. “People do funny things to get ahead. We will need to handle those appropriately. Opportunists will not be tolerated. Loyalty speaks volumes.”

Leaning forward, E clasps his hands together. “Understood.”

The familiar sound of a phone vibrating catches my attention as it rumbles on top of the wood desk. Nate looks down, squinting at the small print, then laughs, “Fucking Delacroix. The man is wound as tight as the noose Francesca had wrapped around her neck.” Then he continues to chuckle to himself.

E whispers in my ear, “They went to Harvard Law together, have known each other for more years than I have been alive. He is one of the few people my dad has around that I can actually fucking tolerate. He was likely the one in the warthog mask that we almost hit the night of the Reckoning.”

I nod in understanding as a wave of overwhelming thoughts rushes through me. There is so much more to this than I can even comprehend. But I will have to. I am a fucking Sinclair. It’s my duty. My eyes remain focused ahead as I watch Nate type a quick reply back. His gaze returns to us as he places his hands firmly on the wooden desk and stands. “Very good. Now you two go—rest. Oh, and maybe you can deal with the body still attached to your car? Things could get very busy for us soon.”

It’s later in the evening, the sun has set and a chill creeps throughout the house. One being from North Carolina, I am not familiar with.

E has been outside digging a grave for the majority of the day in the forest behind our house. He did it all by hand, which I thought was insane. Why get a digger machine? He said that was for the lazy. Who am I to argue?

At one point, I saw him walking back there with a head in one hand and legs in the other. I think he cut the guy up in the garage, as I didn’t hear any commotion in the house. And he wasn’t wearing any sort of bio suit, so I hope he burned the clothes after.

Sitting in the white tub with gold claw feet, bubbles cover my body up to my chin and the scent of lavender fills my nose. My head rests against the porcelain ledge. As the water becomes lukewarm, I lean up, turning the antique brass faucet. Hot, steamy water flows out of the tap, warming me up. Once satisfied, I turn it off and lay back down, closing my eyes as I relax. My mind for the first time in days is quiet. Or almost. One thing is floating around, but it doesn’t revolve around fear or worry. I can feel the bathroom door open as cool air drifts in.

Exhaling a deep breath, I turn my head and open my eyes. E is leaning against the bathroom countertop, wearing gray fucking sweatpants. My mouth waters as I nip my lip. The most sultry voice I’ve heard comes from me. “Come here.”

His laugh sends shivers all the way down my spine and directly to my pussy.

Sitting up, I move to the side of the tub, resting my arms atop it while leaning forward. He makes me wait, not moving. He likes when I beg. And beg I will.

“Please,” I say, while batting my lashes at him.

Stepping forward on bare feet, his hands slide into his pockets. His tone is casual, when he says, “Good girl, little bat. Now pull my pants down, take what you want.”

Reaching up, my wet hands drip down his front. I watch as the water droplets make his sweatpants darker around his already erect cock. Inching his waistband down slowly to build the tension and anticipation, I spot something new on his pelvis. Rain Sinclair is tattooed in cursive. It looks fresh. When did he do this?

“Keep going. I don’t like waiting.” E tsks me.

Continuing, I lower his pants more. His hard cock springs out, nearly hitting my face. His piercing has beads of precum on it. Reaching forward with my tongue, I lick the cool metal that goes through his swollen head. Lifting his shirt, he places it between his teeth to hold it up. E’s stomach contracts as I go in once more, this time licking the slit. As his eyes hood, I go in for more. Craving every drop that he will gift me.

Wrapping my hands around his base, I take all of him inside of me. Gagging as I take him deep, sucking him hard as saliva drips out of my mouth. My tongue moves along the underside of his cock while I hollow my cheeks. He is huge, and I have always struggled to get him entirely down my throat. Breathing through my nose as often as I can, I work him, contracting my throat as he rubs against it.

A sharp hiss leaves him.

My baby E likes it.

Pulling him out, I catch my breath then take the tip of my tongue and brush it along the thick vein under him as slowly as I possibly can. His pelvis bucks forward as I lick his slit, then wrap my lips around his sensitive head. The metal from his piercing is cool against my tongue. I continue to tease, circling his tip as I watch his stomach contract once more.

He is using all his restraint to not take control.

Removing my grip, I brace my hands on his firm ass while looking up, and softly tell him, “Do it.”

With permission given, he shows no mercy.

Gripping my hair between his fingers, he thrusts hard inside my mouth. Using me to chase his pleasure, and I fucking love it.

His movements become more rapid. Louder grunts begin as his ass flexes in my hands.

“Such a good fucking girl. Taking my cock. Letting me fuck your pretty little face.”

My pussy drips at his words as my own breathing becomes heavier.

“Don’t you fucking stop. You can take it, little bat. Take it!” His voice has gone deeper, more raspy the harder he fucks my mouth. He pushes his shaft all the way down my throat, taking him the deepest I’ve ever had him. His pelvis slams against my mouth a couple times before he pulls out. My lips swell, and I wish I wore lipstick to mark him and have that added to his tattoo collection.

“Next time.” The words come out softly from his lips before instructing me, “Mouth open, tongue out.”

I obey.

With one last jerk of his cock, ropes of his warm cum begin shooting out of his tip, landing on my face as he paints me with it.

With hooded eyes, his lips murmur while taking me in, “So fucking beautiful.”

More release coats me, some landing on my lips as my taste buds patiently wait for their serving of the salty white glaze.

A whimper leaves me, I’m desperate for it.

E’s strong hand cups my cheek as he aims his cock at my tongue, allowing the last bit of release to shoot out, giving me exactly what I have been craving, and it’s fucking delicious. As the final drop drips into my mouth, I lap it up and lick my lips, enjoying every moment of his salty orgasm that I own.

Letting go, he steps back and tucks himself back into his pants. I don’t clean my face off, letting his sticky release dry onto my skin.

His beautiful blue eyes with the brown specks stay on me as he praises me, “My little bat is a sinner with those moves.”

His comment makes me laugh. Nervously, I respond with a slight hesitation, “We both are, E.”

He looks at me inquisitively. “Do we need to go to church, grace the altar with our presence, and fuck our sins out of each other, little bat? Right before the priest. Perhaps bathe in some holy water while you sit on my face. As the good priest recites prayers over our naked bodies.”

My heart is racing as I spit the words out, “I'm pregnant.”