Page 158 of White Raven
Thank you for giving this old bat some peace in her life.
Live well, Wren.
~Nell
“Time to make some history,” Wren sniffled, smiling.
And Brent took her hand as they followed Athan and Nell out the front entrance.
Foster had come by Brent’s penthouse to sit down and discuss all the preparations they’d made for Foley’s funeral, and Wren and Brent had given them privacy while they went to go accept another fallen hero downtown. Rhaena understood why Athan chose not to be present for this heavy conversation, having not been here when either of them passed. The guilt was racking her partner, and the person that he’d become in the past few months was softer now…making it twice as difficult to hide his pain. Better to reveal it to someone like Wren and Brent, than Rachel Foster.
The service would be held in two days. Foley had already secured his plot years ago, as well as what casket he’d be buried in, and a headstone to be erected in a couple of months. The rest had been up to them, and everything seemed perfect. He’d have a service fit for a king. A soldier. A memorial with enough honor to level an army.
“Can you think of anything else?” Foster asked, looking between her and Brandon. He shook his head, and Rhaena did the same.
“No…no, it sounds perfect. Thank you for all this, Foster. I apologize for always being such a bitch. I don’t deserve the level of grace you’ve given me through all this.”
Foster smiled. It was equal parts cocky, and soft. “You don’t have to thank me. But I’ll take the sweetener for the bitter taste that’s probably lingering in that snout of yours. That’s thanks enough.”
“There’s the twat I thought had died with my captain,” Rhaena snorted.
“And now I’ve officially heard it for myself,” she snickered. “So, we’re all set, then? I know this sucks, but…in a couple days, the hardest part will be over. Then you guys can rejoice over my absence.”
“Not yet,” Rhaena said, glancing towards Brent’s impressive view. “There’s one more thing I have to do first.”
Brandon looked at her knowingly. “You want me to go with you?”
“No. No, this…I’m doing on my own.” She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Foster tossed a salute from her brow, and Rhaena grabbed an old box, and her keys off the kitchen island as she left.
From the outside, this house looked so cozy. So warm and inviting. But the closer she got to the door, even the sound of her heels against the walkway made her teeth scrape. It was like nails on a chalkboard, and the chilly air seemed heavy…unwelcome. Rhaena straightened her spine and lifted her chin as she rang the doorbell. Charming. Such a solid glamour over this place. Any unsuspecting passerby would almost mistake it for the American dream, and the white picket fence. Even the doorbell was unnervingly soothing.
She could see the outline of a woman through the lacy door curtain and a young girl opened it, immediately scowling at her.
Well…that had to be Brynn Trainor.
“Miss Trainor?” Rhaena asked, not bothering to smile. “My name is—”
“Iknowwho you are,” she snapped, stepping out of the door. She left it open behind her. “You’re Foley’s protege. I heard the bastard—”
“Finish that sentence, little girl…I fuckingdareyou.” Something like surprise flashed across her young, freckled face, and Rhaena dropped the box to the porch. The lid nearly flew off with the impact. “I came here to give you back your mother’s things. Out ofcourtesy. Don’t make me regret that decision. I could have had them ripped wide open and expose LindsayTraitor, for what she really was. I didn’t. Purely out of respect for you and your father. But you willnotdisrespect my captain. Not ever. And if you eventhinkof showing up to that funeral, I’ll make sure my first actascaptain will be to make both your lives a living hell.”
To be as young as she was, she was as brave as they came. Brynn faced off with her, inching forward, back straight, and eyes on fire. “How dare you…” she seethed, the tips of her ears shining red with boiling anger. “My mother was not—”
“Brynn? Who was at the—” Heavy footsteps broke their heated stare, and Scott Trainor stepped out of the front door, looking every bit as triumphant as he was pissed. “Well…you’ve got balls. I would ask why Malcolm didn’t bring these back himself, but…”
Rhaena cocked her head. “Something else you need to say, Trainor?”
“I dunno why you insist on coming here with hostility, detective. Foley was the one sticking his nose in a grave the day that he dared to come up here and ask for that key. If it wasn’t bad enough that my wife died for nothing, I knew dredging shit back up wouldn’t do a damn thing but have him follow her rightto his own grave. It’s not like I didn’t warn him, and I can’t say I’m that sorry. You know why, so don’t play stupid.”
Brynn stepped in front of him, cutting him off. “She called mom a traitor. She’s no frickin’ better than he was.” Scott’s eyes lit up with fury.
“Get off my fucking property.”
Rhaena dug the brass key from her pocket and flicked it into the air like a coin. Brynn caught it. “Gladly. And I know you’re in school to practice law,” she directed her focus to the testy youngster. “You seem like a smart kid. So, do one better than your mother, and make sure you’re on the right side of it. You think me a liar, then study the contents of that fucking box. Have a great day.”
“Leave,”Scott growled through his teeth. Rhaena smiled, flashing the irises of the wolf beneath, and they both flinched as it disappeared just as quickly as it came.
“I hope you both heed my warning. Case is closed…but I have no issues with prying it back open and stretching it as far as it’ll go.Ta-ta, now.” She turned on her heel and walked with purpose back down the walkway towards her truck. She swore she felt her captain’s presence around her shoulders…
