32
Haven
We compromised on three days. Dad hadn't reached out or done a damn thing to right his wrong, so we're moving on to Plan B. I open the front door to the house and wave Raine in ahead of me. "I don't know why I never thought of this," Raine says.
"Clearly you're not as smart as I am," I say with a wink, as I pinch his butt.
"Hey now!” he hoots. “Let's not get ahead of ourselves, shall we?" Raine nudges me in the shoulder as I close the door behind us. "Are they home, you think?"
"Not sure. The garage doors were both closed, but that doesn’t matter." I walk through the house, peeking into every room, and as I pass by Dad's office to check the kitchen, I hear him speaking to someone on the phone.Good. He's home.
I point to his door, mouthing to Raine that he's here. "I'm kind of hungry, how about you?" Raine asks loudly.
"I'm starved," I reply, walking into the kitchen. "What can I make for you?"
Raine walks ahead of me and opens the fridge as if he lives here, rummaging through the items until he finds leftovers from a roast. He tosses it onto the counter, followed by mayo and a bag of bread. Doesn't Mom know that rich people have someone make bread for them? It typically isn't store bought. She never did get this whole rich woman act down. "Where are the knives?" Raine asks. “Oh wait, I know, Granddad hand built the knife block adjacent to the wall over there. He hung it just high enough so I couldn’t reach it until I was old enough to use knives. He was always thinking on his toes.”
I spin around for the knife block, never realizing it was here when we moved in, and grab a butcher knife just as I hear Dad's office door open. "Here you go," I say, handing it over to Raine.
"Haven," he laughs. "You can't cut bread with a butcher knife."
"Oh, true," I reply. Feeling Dad's presence hovering behind me, I smile at Raine. "I've just gotten so used to reaching for the butcher knife while living with Bennett so long. I even took some self-defense classes in the center of town.You always need to be prepared when living with a psychopath.That should have been the name of the class."
"Life skills right there," Raine says, looking above my head. "I learned a thing or two myself while living in prison for seven years. Did you know you can kill someone with a plastic fork? Watched it happen twice." While I wasn't aware of this little fact, or that he had to watch this, I hope he's just speaking out of anger right now. It isn’t possible to kill with a plastic fork, is it?
"What are you doing?" Dad finally speaks out.
"Oh, Frederick," Raine says with an exaggerated chipperness. "How's it hangin’ old man? What are you doing here?"
"I live here," Dad grunts.
"Oh, Daddy," I say, spinning on my heels. I throw my arms around his neck and give him a kiss on the cheek. "I'm so glad you're staying with us for a couple of days."
"What the hell are you two doing? I'm going to call the sheriff in about thirty seconds if you don't get the hell out of my kitchen."
"Freddy, Freddy, Freddy, the sheriff won't be able to do much for you. You know, I always thought you were a smart man for being able to pull off some of the extravagant shit you've managed, but there's one small step you forgot while claiming what wasn't rightfully yours. Either that or you didn't do your due diligence to double check that youri'shad been dotted and yourt'scrossed."
Dad clears his throat like he does when he’s uncomfortable...which isn’t often. "What are you saying?" There's a nervous inflection in Dad's voice now, and it's kind of exhilarating.
Raine takes the folded paper out of his back pocket and holds it open as he stuffs half of his freshly made sandwich into his mouth. With a mouthful, he says, "Look, you never changed the name on the title of this house." Raine looks at the paper while chewing with his mouth wide open, which makes me snort. "Do you need your glasses or can you see the name typed in?"
"I can see just fine," Dad says, pulling the paper from his hand. "So, if the state repossessed the house as collateral damage for the debt incurred by my granddad, his name wouldn't still be on the title, am I right?"
"Obviously, there was a mistake," Dad fires backs while burning a hole through the paper with his blazing glare.
Raine smiles at him with a joker-sized grin, bigger than I knew he was capable of. "Must have been some awful mistake." Raine takes another bite of his sandwich. "You should go ahead and call the sheriff."
"Look, I don't know what you're up to right now," Dad says, pulling his cell phone out of his back pocket, "but you aren't going to walk into my house and—"
"Claim what's mine?" As if his words have a double meaning, Raine reaches for my hand and pulls me into him, wrapping his arm lovingly around my neck. “It’s all mine, Frederick. Even your daughter.” There is something thrilling about the way he’s claiming me to be his.
“You don’t know what you’re starting right now, Mr. Carson,” Dad warns with his empty threat.
"I'll be suing for damages, by the way, unless of course, you would like to hand over what you stole from me right this minute." Raine hands the sandwich over to Dad. "Want a bite?"
"What damages?" Dad asks.
"About 3.5 million dollars’ worth of damages. I have it all listed out. I'm happy to go over it with you if you'd like, but it might be easier and cheaper for you to just hand over what you stole. If I need to get the sheriff involved, you could be looking at jail time, especially with the other proof I've acquired from the town hall."
