𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 is your average do-good lawyer on the rise to fame as a representative of young victims. Except her motivations aren't all that innocent. Rayne's only goal is to run from her past, to leave confrontation for the courtroom, no...
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𝗥ayne spent the next couple of hours wasting gas by aimlessly driving around Los Angeles, having nowhere to go. She didn't want to go home as Christian would be waiting for her. On the other side, Rueben wasn't answering his cell and she didn't want to pester Mason or Isaac. With no one being available, she was left to boredom.
Still, a couple minutes later, she found herself re – entering the parking garage of her building. There was a part of her that knew she shouldn't continue this pathetic excuse for a relationship, but she mostly felt like she had to. Christian was the first person she met when she escaped Carson – he gave her everything. She felt like she owed him her life ... her love. Anything she could offer.
Even if the thought of looking at him made her want to vomit, she had to mend things between them. She knew in the back of her mind she should just leave them – that she needed to stop trying to fix a totaled relationship, but she knew she couldn't. The attachment she had to him was much too strong.
So instead, she parked her car and pulled her phone, shooting Christian a text.
i'm home. we should talk.
He answered almost immediately.
finally. where have you been?? actually, never mind. i don't care. come up. let's talk.
Rayne fingers hovered over the keyboard, contemplating what she wanted to do. She knew in her heart and in her mind, that his fuck ups were beyond repair. In fact, she didn't want to do anything with him, but at the end of the day, it was what she was used to.
She was used to the neglect, the verbal and physical abuse. It was something she could manage; she had learned to the minute she turned thirteen. It wasn't that she thought she deserved this continuous cycle, no – but it was that it was comfortable in a twisted, sick way.
Finally, she exhaled and texted back. There was not a cell in her body that felt the desire to go upstairs and have a conversation locked up in the Penthouse. She told him to come downstairs, and that they would go out for the afternoon. Shop or something.
Sure, being locked in a car while driving was no better, but at least she held their lives in her hands. If he was to try anything, a minor distraction would suffice for an excuse to a future accident.
She shook her head, dropping her phone in the cupholder.
What the fuck is wrong with you? A planned accident is a planned murder.
You're acting like a lunatic.
Rayne dissociated, zoned out of the next ten minutes, removed from her headspace while she waited for Christian to join her. The more she thought about him, about her life, the more she realized the recurrence of her past self in her actions.
