Raine sits down on the edge of the bed, still studying the papers. "I didn't think it had anything to do with your granddad," I say. "But do you see where it says—"
"It doesn't," Raine agrees. "But it looks like I'm not the only one your dad's done this to."
"How do you know?" I question.
"I know this man," Raine says. "He owned a piece of historical property a few streets over from my granddad's house." Raine continues to squint at the words he's reading. "This is the title to that property."
"Well, why is your granddad's name on it, then?"
"He owned a small piece of the land. It was worth a shit ton of money and he wanted to invest in it," Raine continues. "Mr. Baker died just a year after my granddad died. The last I heard, the property was to be handed over to his daughters."
"Except—" I piece the bits of information I have together. "It looks like my dad acquired it." Raine releases the papers, and I watch them fall to the ground, wavering slowly like weightless feathers. "How many people do you think he's done this to?" I take a few steps backward until my knees buckle at the edge of the hard chair in the corner. "There has to be more paperwork. If he has these papers, he must have something more about your granddad's property and will."
"I don't know, but God, I hope so," Raine agrees.
I feel guilty on behalf of Dad. How could I be the daughter of a monster as horrible as he is? "I'm so sorry," I offer, knowing it's meaningless.
Raine slides back onto the bed and lifts his feet, making himself comfortable. "It's nothing new, Haven. It's just more confirmation."
"I know."
"What's hard to understand is that a bank wouldn't question a man with such a sudden increase in cash. Unless he's close friends with the owner of whatever bank he is with, it's all a little hard to believe." Raine places his arms beneath his head and settles into the pillows. "Where did you find the cash you have?"
"His safe," I tell him.
"Does he know you have the combination?"
"Are you kidding?" I laugh nervously. "No. I watched him open it once."
"Is there only money in the safe?"
"I'm not sure. It's separated into compartments. The cash is neatly stacked into piles, and I don't know how far back the piles go."
"You need to find out when you can. There may be more in that safe besides cash."
"I was planning to, but I ran out of time today," I tell him. "Raine, I'm not stopping until I help you fix this. I don't care if we end up pushing my father to a life sentence in prison. He deserves it."
"You know," Raine says. "You've changed." He doesn’t say this in a sweet way, not in the way he was just talking to me minutes ago outside. I’m fearful of his anger resurfacing and that he’ll finally find a reason to blame me for the demise of his life.
"How so?" I question, nervously settling into the back of the chair.
"You were so determined to get into my pants back then," he says with a grin that makes the lower half of my body clench.I wasn’t expecting him to say that.
“I acted like a slutty teenager, one who was a virgin with no experience. That’s why I lied about my age...I knew you wouldn’t go for some ‘kid’, and gosh, I seriously had the biggest crush on you.” I'm still embarrassed about my behavior seven years later, and I've done my best to block out the memories of the crap I pulled. "I’ve tried to forget about my behavior back then.” I cover my face from the embarrassment I’m reliving. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to live this down, not with him.
"I haven't been able to forget," he says. "Which isn't right, since you were an illegal age and all."
I close my eyes, facing the truth once again. "I suck," I offer.
"During those seven years, being the dirty asshole I was labeled as, I wondered how your body would change over the years, what you'd look like, what your voice would sound like, who you'd be—"
"Am I the way you imagined?" I feel nervous asking this.
"Way hotter." His words burn as he drops his gaze down the center of my body. It’s like I can physically feel what his eyes are doing to me right now.
"I always wondered the same about you. I loved that you weren't a stuck-up rich boy." I say without thinking, but as the words come out of my mouth, I remember that he was that boy, before Dad ripped it all away.
"I had been, though," he corrects me.
