Halfway up the stairs to Rain's apartment, Ethan heard her scream. He bolted up the steps two at a time, reached Rain's door, and pounded. “Rain?” He thought he heard something, a grunt. Then a man's voice.
Ethan tried the door, found it unlocked, and rushed in. Rain lay face down on the floor, a man on top of her, yanking her hair back like he meant to tear it from her scalp.
“Rain!”
The man looked over his shoulder at Ethan, a madness in his eyes. Spittle foamed in the corners of his mouth.
“Who the hell are you?” he asked.
Ethan took three steps into the apartment and punched the guy in the face, knocking him off of Rain.
The man rolled away on the floor and scrambled to his feet. He dabbed his mouth with the back of his hand and looked at the blood.
“Son of a—”
Ethan closed the distance and hit him again. His knuckles crunched into the guy's nose and Ethan could feel the cartilage pop. Something tore loose inside of Ethan, a piece of calm he had clung to by the gnarled fingernails of his remaining self-control.
The guy must have seen the change in Ethan. As he staggered backward, nose bleeding, he gaped at Ethan and crossed his arms in front of his face.
Ethan's breath burned in his nostrils. He could smell the sweat and anger in the air. He turned to find his son in the doorway, gaping at him.
Ethan straightened and stepped away from the cowering man, then turned to Rain. She lay still on the floor. He couldn't tell if she was breathing. He rushed to her side and dropped to his knees, catching sight of her cheek and the beginnings of the bruise there.
“Is she okay?”
Ethan looked up. Graham stood close, looking down at his mother, chewing on his lower lip.
Rather than answer a question he couldn't, he returned his attention to Rain. Gently, he touched her cheek. “Can you hear me?”
She groaned.
Ethan brushed aside a piece of her hair. Her skin felt feverish yet soft. He noticed his hand trembling and stopped, making a fist to steady himself.
“Ethan?” Her voice sounded like wind through dry reeds. She tried to push herself up.
“Easy. Let me help you.”
“I'm all right.”
“The hell you are. Let me help you.”
Ethan tried to find a way to grab her gently, but couldn't find a place to put his hands that didn't feel too intimate.
Rain got her hands under her and shoved herself up to her knees. She took a moment, eyes squeezed shut, before trying to get to her feet.
When she stood she gave Graham a bleary-eyed once over. “You got tall.”
Graham hunched his shoulders as if trying to draw his head in like a turtle. “I guess.”
The man on the floor stirred, drawing Ethan's attention. He tensed, ready to knock the guy back to the floor.
“Josh,” Rain said. “Can you walk?”
“Fuck off.”
Ethan swung a hand in Josh's direction. “Who is this guy?”
Rain settled onto a couch that looked like it belonged at the curb, not in anyone's living room. She winced and shot a hand to the back of her neck. “What are you doing here, Ethan?”
“He your dealer or something?”
Rain rolled her eyes. “Why? Want some?”
More grunting and groaning from the floor. Ethan noticed Graham watching the guy try to stand up.
“Get rid of him. We need to talk.”
Josh clawed his way to his feet using the near wall for support. He staggered in place for a moment, glaring at Ethan.
Ethan stared right back.
Josh shuffled past Ethan and to the door. He gave Rain a three-second stare from the doorway. “See you later, babe.”
“Suck it, asswipe.”
He flipped her the bird and staggered out of sight.
Graham's wide eyes skated back and forth between Rain and Ethan. Ethan almost laughed. The second they had come in the door, Graham was subjected to exactly what the restraining order against Rain was meant to protect him from.
“So,” Rain blurted. “Mind if I wash the blood off my face before you yell at me for whatever it is I did this time?”
Ethan didn't bother arguing with her. He waved his hand. “Take your time.”
Rain narrowed her eyes. “What's going on?”
“Go ahead and wash up.”
“This is the nicest you've been to me in years.” She stood slowly. “Makes me a little queasy.”
“I'm not here to fight.”
Her brow wrinkled. She curled her lip. “Now I'm downright sick to my stomach.”
Graham and Ethan waited for her on the couch. The muffled sound of rushing water from the bathroom soothed Ethan for some reason.
“Where did you learn to fight like that?”
“I don't know. It always came naturally to me.”
“Always?”
Ethan thought back and picked up bits of memory off the floor of his mind, pieces from way back when his father would leave for work and Mom would proceed to get drunk and wield her iron skillet like a war hammer.
“Not always. But it didn't take me long to figure it out.”
“Why did you have to figure it out?”
Ethan looked at his son. Graham's wide brown eyes, tousled hair, and thin neck gave him such an innocent appearance. He couldn't imagine his son swinging a fist.
“Why the interest?”
Graham's gaze dropped to his lap. He shrugged. “No reason.”
The rushing water in the bathroom stopped.
“I shouldn't have done that.”
“Didn't he deserve it? He looked like he was trying to kill Mom.”
Ethan rubbed a thumb over his swollen knuckles.
“I don't want you getting in any fights.”
“What if I had to? To protect someone.”
The toilet flushed, causing something in the pipes to knock. The bathroom door swung open and Rain stepped out. She had managed to scrub the blood off, but the bruise was already darkening and her bottom lip looked tender and swollen.
She sauntered into the living room and took a seat in a ratted wingback that didn't match any of the rest of the furniture. She lit a cigarette, glanced around as if missing something, then leaned forward and picked up the ashtray off the floor and set it on the coffee table.
Graham scrunched up his face.
“He's got asthma,” Ethan said.
She sucked deep on her cigarette, then turned her head and blew a stream of smoke away from Ethan and Graham. “Sorry, baby, I blow it over this way.”
“That's not good enough, Rain. The smoke's going to fill the room and—”
“It's okay, Dad.”
“Put it out.”
Rain glared at Ethan through the smoke haze already building around her. “I just got my face pounded and was nearly strangled to death. I need a smoke.”
“Then take it outside.”
“Graham says he's fine. Quit your whining.”
“You don't give a damn if he has an asthma attack. All you care about is getting a fix.”
“It's a cigarette, Ethan, not a damned crack pipe.”
Ethan threw up his hands. “What's stopping you from lighting one of those? Hell, we've all had a bad day. Why don't the three of us get wasted?”
Rain jabbed the two fingers with her cigarette pinched between them in Ethan's direction. “That's awesome. You bitch at me for smoking in front of him, but then you go and talk about him doing crack after you bloody up my boyfriend with him watching?”
“Your boyfriend? Wow, that must be some relationship.”
Graham shot to his feet. “Stop!” He looked at Ethan. “Tell her.”
Rain's brow furled. “Tell me what?”
Ethan opened his mouth, shook his head.
“Tell her, Dad. Tell her what happened.”
For the first time in years, Ethan saw a hint of fear in Rain's eyes. She tamped out her cigarette in the ashtray. “It's out. Okay? What happened?”
“It's Alison.”
Graham eased back onto the couch.
“Look, if this is about her coming over here,” she raised a hand as if taking an oath, “I swear on the bible I never got high while she was here.”
Ethan's breath caught. “What are you talking about?”
Rain's face turned pale. “Shit.”
Ethan sensed Graham go stiff beside him, as if the boy sensed the coming storm. “Alison was coming here?”
“Don't get mad at her, okay? Get mad at me.”
“I'm not mad at her,” Ethan said. He surprised himself with how even he kept his tone, only a dusting of frost on his words.
“Can you blame a girl for wanting to get to know her mom?”
“The judge told you, Rain. He told you you weren't allowed to see her.”
“Ali came to me.”
He thought about Staver asking who Alison was staying out late with, how Ethan couldn't answer because he didn't know if Alison had any friends. All this time, could she have been coming here to see Rain?
That thought led to another.
“Was she here last night?”
Rain looked down and played with her lighter, turning the wheel with her thumb, but not hard enough to ignite the flame. Every time the wheel turned it made the grating sound of metal scraping against flint. “You going to report me?”
“Answer me.”
She shrugged. “Last night. Last Friday. A week or so before that, too. Why does it matter?”
An image wormed its way into Ethan's imagination—Rain's boyfriend as Ethan had found him when he first arrived, only instead of Rain, it was Alison underneath him.
“Graham, go wait in the car.”
Nobody moved.
Ethan gripped Graham's arm and stood with him. Graham didn't offer any resistance. Ethan guided him to the door. “Do as you're told.”
“Dad, it doesn't mean anything.”
Graham's wrinkled brow and taut lips betrayed his words. Ethan could tell the same possibility had occurred to his son.
“Go on,” Ethan said.
Graham held onto Ethan's gaze for a final second, then slipped out the door.
Ethan turned the deadbolt and faced Rain.
With shaking hands, she lit another cigarette. “You didn't know she was coming here. Not until just now.”
“No.”
“Then what did you have to tell me?”
“Was your boyfriend here last night, too?”
She closed her eyes while taking a drag. “What is this all about?”
“Answer me.”
“You answer me for once.” She stood, her movements jerky, and dropped her cigarette on the floor. “God damn it.” Rather than try picking it up, she stomped on the cigarette and mashed it into the carpet. The smell of burning synthetic fiber turned the air rancid.
“What time was Alison here last night?”
“Tell me what happened to Alison.” Her face flushed, accentuating the discoloration on her bruised cheek. She sank back into her chair. “I know something happened to her.”
Ethan tensed. “How do you know that?”
“Jesus Christ, it's obvious. The way you're talking, the questions you're asking. Something happened to her and you want to blame me.”
“I don't want to blame you for anything.”
“But you always do. So fuck it, right? What did I do this time?”
“She's dead.” The words dropped before he could clamp them inside.
“How?” Rain asked.
“Beaten to death.”
Rain covered her mouth with both hands. Her red and teary eyes stared at nothing.
Ethan felt detached from himself as he crossed the room and knelt beside Rain's chair. He took her one hand in both of his. Her skin, her fingers, the dips between her knuckles all felt like the hands he remembered.
“You're sure it's her? Maybe there's some mistake. I just saw her, I just . . .”
“The police had me identify her.”
Rain wouldn't look him in the eyes.
“You have to tell me,” Ethan said, “if Josh was here last night.”
“He wouldn't . . .” She didn't finish the denial, probably realizing how naïve it would sound after what Ethan had already witnessed.
“Was Josh here?” he repeated, emphasizing each word like a sentence of its own.
“No.” She wiped her nose. “He wasn't.”
“Tell me the truth.”
“I'm telling you the truth.”
“Why would you protect him after what he just did to you?”
She stood and tugged her hand free from his. “I can't believe you think this is my fault.”
“I never said it was your fault. But your boyfriend—”
Rain slashed her hands through the air. “Enough. I told you he wasn't here. Believe whatever you want. Just get out of here.”
Ethan snorted. “Get out, huh? I tell you our daughter is dead, and you kick me out.”
“What do you want from me? A fucking hug?”
Ethan studied her. Her movements were clumsy. Her hands shook. Her eyes shifted back and forth, refusing to focus on anything.
“You're going to get high.”
She sneered at him. “So what?”
“When the fog clears, she'll still be gone.”
“Then maybe I'll make sure the fog never clears.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means it's my life and the day you took off with my kids was the day it stopped being any of your God damned business.”
“Is that how you see it? Like I kidnapped them or something?”
“The conversation's over, Ethan. Thanks for saving my ass, but I want to be alone now.”
Ethan shook his head, releasing a sigh that felt like a hundred years worth of breath all leaking free at once.
“You're pathetic.”
“Thanks for the compliment.”
“Whatever.”
On the way out to the car Ethan thought he heard a shriek coming from her apartment. He climbed behind the wheel and slammed the door.
Graham shifted in his seat as if he wanted to say something, but he remained silent.
After a few seconds of quiet, Ethan started the car and pulled away, turning left out of the parking lot.
“Isn't home the other way?” Graham asked.
“We're not going home yet.”