The call is over.
Just like that.
No, no, no!
I wasn’t done. There is so much I have left to say. So much that I have to get off my chest, even though she’ll never hear it and will never answer.
A hoarse scream escapes from my throat, frustrated, sad, and destroyed. I cling so hard to my phone that the edges dig deep into my palm. I hardly feel it. All I can feel is this tension inside me, this unbearable pain that’s tearing me apart. Every day. Every minute. Every second.
Underneath it all is this burning anger that I’ve suppressed and refused to acknowledge. Until now.
“Rayne?”
At the sound of Easton’s voice behind me, I close my eyes. My heart is pounding against my ribs so hard it hurts.
The fury takes my breath away.
I can’t breathe again.
Why won’t it stop? Why won’t it ever stop?
Chapter 31
Easton
Until I Found You (Piano Version)—Stephen Sanchez
I don’t know what made me follow her. I told the guys that I needed a moment before starting again, and I went outside to find Rayne.
Maybe it was the expression on her face, or the way her voice shook. Or my damn heart trying to force me to finally say what I need to say, because saying anything else is no longer an option.
“What’s wrong?” I ask when she doesn’t answer. She has her back to me, and her shoulders are hunched. She’s clinging to her phone. I couldn’t hear what she was saying or who she was talking to, she was too far away, but I heard the anger in her voice.
“Nothing. Just go,” she says, and a part of me wants to do what she asks. I want to give her the space she needs, but I can’t because I feel her pain, and it’s unbearable.
Instead, I reach instinctively for her hand, without thinking about it. Her skin is ice cold. It’s no wonder; I’m freezing my ass off out here. She doesn’t resist my touch or shake me off, and I take a breath of relief.
“Rayne, talk to me,” I beg her, tugging gently on her hand until she turns around. Her gaze darts restlessly over my face, her gray eyes even brighter than usual.
“It’s nothing,” she lies, even though it’s so obvious that something is wrong.
“Who were you talking to on the phone? Why are you so angry?” I ask. Ihave toask.
Her mouth opens and closes again. Her eyes glisten, and tears are hanging on her long lashes. It almost kills me, because suddenly I’m very sure I know who she called. Who she talked to without getting an answer. It tears me apart to see her like this. I want so badly to help her, but I don’t know how.
“Rayne—” I begin, but she cuts me off.
“I shouldn’t be here, okay? Not in this damn city, not at this ballet school. I shouldn’t be hereat all!” She pulls away from me. I want to tell her it’s not true, that she’s exactly where she belongs. But that wouldn’t be the truth. Not really.
“I’m angry because I have no choice but to be here. Because I have nowhere else to go!” she shouts. Her phone hits the wall of the studio with a crack and lands on the ground. Rayne doesn’t even flinch or check to see if the screen is cracked. She doesn’t care. “I’m angry because my parents are dead. It’s unfair! They shouldn’t be dead. They didn’t deserve it! They didn’t do anything wrong. They were good people! They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s not fair!”
Her words break my heart because she’s right. It’s not fair. This whole fucking life is unfair. I want to take her pain away, but I can’t. There’s nothing I can do. Absolutely fucking nothing.
“I know, it’s—”
“No,” she snaps. “You have no idea! I need her. I need my mom. She has to tell me how to do this!” Her voice breaks again, and something about her words scares me. I reach out for her again, but she dodges me this time.
“What do you mean? She has to tell you how to dowhat?”