Page 42 of After the Rain
“Honey, I’m home!” I call out in a sing-song voice, because hey, I can be cute and funny. I’m not all grump and anxiety. I look quizzically at Wren when I get no response. “Baby?” Suddenly, the complete lack of sound hits me. No TV, no music, no clanking of dishes or pans in the kitchen, no voices. Then one singular sound carries through to the hallway. A sound that sends a chill down my spine and prompts both Wren and me to dash into the living room – Pax’s whine.
I find him on the floor between the coffee table and the sofa. He’s groggy like he was when he’d just had his operation to be fixed. What the fuck?
“Hey, buddy. It’s OK.” I gently lift his large head into my lap, the way he likes, and stroke his ears. “What’s going on, my boy?”
“Aidan,” Wren’s stern voice grabs myattention away from my semi-unconscious dog. In one hand, she’s holding up an ominous-looking empty syringe, and in the other – a very sharp-looking knife that does not belong to me. She’s wisely picked it up with her sleeve over her fingers. “I’ll put these on the side and call the vet.” She briskly makes moves to do exactly that, and all I can do is wonder where the fuck Rain is.
It doesn’t take long for me to realise. The fact that both RainandCorey are nowhere in sight despite having planned to be here, and after some sinister shit has been done to my dog? It’s him. The fucking ex and his brother. I carefully place a cushion from the sofa under Pax’s head and extract myself, then I fly up off the floor. I swear I don’t even remember climbing the stairs. I go to our room first and then to Corey’s – no sign. I hear Wren downstairs, hanging up the phone with the vet before she calls out, “What the fuck is going on? Who would break in and sedate your dog? And where did Rain and Corey go?”
I’m muttering, “No, no, no,” under my breath as I rush back downstairs and past Wren, who has taken my spot on the floor next to Pax and is gently rubbing his ears. The front door feels heavier than usual as I pull it open before rushing over to the workshop. I slide open the heavy door, but it’s dark and silent inside. Turning around, I make my way around the house and look over atthe studio, where there’s a light on in the window.
I race over and pull open the door. What I find is almost enough to make me fall to the ground in a dead panic. It has been destroyed. The mats shredded, the walls hacked with, presumably, the claw hammer that is lying on the ground, the sound system torn out and smashed on the floor. The pole is still in place, but there is a piece of paper stuck to it with some chicken scratch writing on it in black Sharpie.
He’s mine.
Fuck!
“Fuck! Wren!” I shout so loud it’s a good job I don’t have neighbours. I hate the thought of her leaving Pax alone even for a minute, but in this moment, I need her. I fall to my knees on the shredded mess of mats and try my hardest to fill my lungs. I can’t do it. I can’t breathe. The pressure on my chest is building. I can hear my voice rambling as Wren crashes through the studio door before stumbling to a stop next to me. “It’s Rain’s ex. It has to be. H-he’s fucking ta-taken him.”I can’t believe I left him behind when I knew this arsehole was sniffing about. After he set my fucking boat on fire! I’m such an idiot. I don’t deserve Rain. I promised him he’d be safe here, and I failed him. Fuck, he’s gone. He’s gone, and he’s with that prick who just wants to hurt him. Control him. Shit. I don’t know what to do!
Wren’s hands wrap around my face, and I make eye contact with her. My vision is steadily trying to go dark, tiny stars of light sparkling at the edges. I can’t hear the words coming out of her mouth; all I can hear is the rushing of blood in my ears and my own shallow breaths. I can see her shoulders lifting as she takes deep, slow breaths, and I know that I should try and do the same. I do my best to take a deep breath. It’s shaky, and nowhere near as deep as it needs to be. So, I try again. And again. And again, until I can match my sister. We spend a few minutes just doing some square breathing techniques, courtesy of Angela, and eventually, I feel the overwhelming panic recede.
We make our way inside, and Wren is rapidly texting, calling in the troops. I check on Pax – still lying with his head on the cushion and now with his blanket over him, too – and sit myself back on the floor with him. Despite his groggy state and his unfocused eyes, he senses the panicked state I’m in and tries to nuzzle his nose into me. I feel a tear run down my face. I hate that in all of this, Pax has gotten hurt. My heart feels like it can’t take much more anguish. Wren pockets her phone, looks over at Pax and I sat together on the floor, then heads to the kitchen, and I hear her put the kettle on. What else? Nothing better than a cup of tea in a crisis.
A couple of hours later, I close the door after the local vet, Henry, leaves. He kindly made a house call for me when he was told about what happened. He agreed that Pax is just too heavy to manoeuvre safely when we don’t know what has happened to him. He’s taken blood for testing and given Pax a good once-over. He’s convinced it was a sedative in the syringe, but he hasn’t taken that. He said it’s best that the police deal with testing it. Pax has come around now, almost completely, but he’s very sleepy and dopey. He’s asleep in his bed right now with Rain’s favourite blanket wrapped around him.
A little over thirty minutes later, my entire family is here. Mum and Dad are making sure everyone has a drink, my brothers, Poppy, Chris, and even Sam, are all sat surrounding Wren, who is explaining what we found when we got home and what we suspect has happened. Mum and Dad had arrived first and insisted that we involve the police, and so here we all are, waiting for them to arrive. It doesn’t take long before there’s a knock on the door.
Standing on the porch when Dad opens the door is Detective Inspector Martin, the same guy who had investigated the fire. He has a femaledetective by his side; her bright copper hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail is quite the contrast to his salt-and-pepper hair that looks as though he’s been dragged through a hedge backwards. Dad shows them both into the living room and pulls a couple of the dining chairs into the room since every other seat is taken.
“Good afternoon, everyone.” He shakes the hands of everyone gathered around. “DI Robert Martin. This is my colleague Detective Laura Matthews,” Martin says. “We came when I saw the address on the call. I reckon that given the fire last week, this isn’t a coincidence.”
“Did you call earlier as well about a dog being injured?” Detective Matthews asks. She must only be in her early thirties, but she has a serious look in her eyes and seems like she is all business. I have to say I appreciate that right now.
“I did,” says Wren. “He’s over there.” She indicates Pax, who is still lying in his bed, Sam sat cross-legged on the floor next to him, stroking his ears, subtly trying to catch Wren’s eye as he has been all afternoon, to no avail. Martin and Matthews both look confused.
Wren indicates the knife and the syringe sitting on the kitchen counter. I proceed to explain what happened with Pax before going through the rest of what we found today, when we realised that Rain and Corey were both gone.They both head out to the studio to inspect the damage. They return with the handwritten note inside an evidence bag before collecting the two items from the kitchen as well.
“OK,” Detective Matthews says as she takes her seat. Everyone suspends the small group conversations they were engrossed in, trying to figure out what we can do. All except Nash, who is pacing silently in the kitchen until Matthews speaks, at which point he comes to stand in the doorway between the two rooms to listen intently. “We have the names of the two men you suspect to have been involved. I want to reassure you that we will do everything we can to locate both Rain and Corey. I specifically asked to join DI Martin on this case as stalking and domestic violence are my specialty areas of investigation, and it’s something I feel very passionate about.”
“We appreciate that,” my mother begins, but is interrupted by Nash, whose voice is sharp when he speaks.
“How do we know you’re not just going to rest on your laurels and let the Met deal with it, since the likelihood is that the boys have been taken back to London? Why should this case be any more important to you than any other?”
Matthews looks at Nash firmly, but unperturbed. “Because I know what it was like when my ex-husband beat me and then stalkedme when I finally got away. And I won’t rest easy while it’s possibly happening to someone else as we speak. Not when I have a lead as good as this one to go on.”
Martin rests an almost fatherly hand on her shoulder. “As Laura said, these cases are very important to her, and as her uncle, they’re very important to me too. We’ll do all that we can, and we already have our contact in the Met waiting for our call. They want to work together on this to reach a speedy resolution. I’ll keep you updated as much as I am able.”
With that, they make their polite goodbyes and leave, taking every ounce of my hope and desperation with them. I rub my hands over my face and take a deep breath, trying to sort my thoughts out. I hate to think what Rain might be going through right now. I hate that I can’t be with him. I feel so fucking impotent as we have to leave this to the police. I’m not some fucking superhero, no matter how much I wish I were, and this isn’t some action movie or romance book. The law is there for a reason, and we have to let them deal with something like this. I can’t go off half-cocked to try and rescue Rain – I’d no doubt only make things worse.
Mum does what Mum does best, and cooks dinner for everyone before shooing them all out the door. I’m left with just her, Dad, and Nash.Mum hugs me as they prepare to head home and whispers into my ear that she loves me and tells me to try and rest – fat chance. Dad pulls me close and tells me to stay strong. He reminds me that Rain is family now, and by proxy, so is Corey, and that we’re all in this together. I watch the taillights of their car disappear off the drive, and then it’s just me and Nash.
I gently encourage Pax to come outside to do his business since he’s barely moved all afternoon. When we return inside, I find Nash sitting on the edge of the sofa, a bottle of whisky and two tumblers on the coffee table in front of him. And that’s how we spend the night. Neither of us speaks much other than to say “another?” when the glasses run dry. I decide, after probably two too many glasses of the twenty-year-old Scottish whisky that Dad had gifted me for Christmas, to ask Nash a question I’m utterly convinced he won’t answer.
“So, big brother, what, uhm, what’s the deal with you and Corey?” Normally, this kind of gossipy conversation is far more Cole and Archer’s style than mine. But I need a fucking distraction from the itch of anxiety that has taken residence under my skin. Nash takes a deep breath and blows it out like he’s trying to blow out a candle.
“I dunno, mate. The first time I saw him, itwas like, I don’t fucking know. Just like… a pull? A draw to him? He’s something else, and judging by the, well, let’s just say he’s been through it. And, I don’t know. When we’ve chatted, he’s so fucking smart and-and-and sweet and just, fuck.” He finally looks up from his glass, and I see tears on his cheeks. His voice, as he continues, is thick with those tears. “He’s so delicate, not just physically, and I’m fucking terrified for him. I can’t explain it. I’ve got so much going on with Nancy, but I can’t get him out of my head.”
I rest my hand reassuringly on his thigh. “Tell me about it, bro. I fell for Rain that first day he was here, so I’m not one to judge. But I have to say I’m surprised. I mean, have you ever had feelings for a guy before?” I’ve never known my brother to express interest in anyone other than Shelley, in all honesty. So, I guess I just assumed that he was straight. He scoffs out an ugly laugh.
