Chapter 1—Raine

This is my fourth town in three years. It’s not bad, actually. Quiet, beautiful, peaceful. I could get used to this place. But I won’t. It’s never a good idea to get too comfortable. Don’t let my guard down. Stick to the plan. Keep her safe. That’s all that matters. But this town somehow feels like we belong here. I hope this place is safe for a while. Mom would love to make friends somewhere, real friends who she could one day confide in and feel safe around. But I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Letting people in could get us killed.

We have only been here in Big Sur a couple of days, but Mom wants to head over to a coffee shop she found on the Internet that is attached to an art gallery. I guess this town is full of artists and musicians. That might be what I like about it. Even the school here encourages self-expression. Since I have never been in a formal classroom, I guess this will be easier than I thought. Small classes with lots of kids who love music as much as I do. But at least I have a month of summer left before the big day.

“Don’t forget your guitar, Raine,” Mom says as we walk out the door to head to town. I jump in her truck after running back inside for my guitar. She told me this place also has local musicians who sometimes like to hang out and play together a couple times a week. I may enjoy that. I haven’t often played in front of strangers, only for my family back at the compound. They all seemed to love it. But that doesn’t mean I’m actually any good.

“You look nervous, son,” she says with a sly smile on her face. She knows I hate for her to think there is anything I can’t handle.

“No, just considering how safe it may be. We can’t really know what this place is like until we get there.”

The truth is, I am totally freaking out. What if people start asking a lot of questions about us? That’s the last thing I want. No drawing unwanted attention to ourselves. But Mom seems to think it’s time for me to make some friends.

As we pull up to the place, I notice that it’s pretty big. I didn’t anticipate that at all. I thought we might see five or six people in a coffee shop. But this is more like a tourist attraction with lots of families with strollers and bags of gifts and trinkets on their arms. They all seem to be pretty happy. No one looks at all suspicious yet. And there appears to be a front and back entrance that are easily accessible in case we need to made a quick getaway. There is even a rooftop seating area where people are mingling and looking out at the beautiful Pacific. I wouldn’t mind spending a few hours writing a song here and drinking some good coffee.

As soon as we enter, the smell makes my stomach growl. It’s just like back home. Fresh cooked muffins and pastries. Okay, this might just be my spot. Mom gives me the “I told you so” look,so I give her my smile of consent. I guess I should start trusting her judgment a bit more. The smile on her face, though, is what really seals the deal. I love it when she seems content and in her element. It’s worth having to deal with all of these people to get one of those smiles.

I survey the room quickly and decide on a spot in the back that is in the corner but still close to the other exit. The big comfortable-looking chairs look inviting. The fireplace will be a great spot in the winter to drink some hot chocolate and play for a while. It looks like someone’s living room. I immediately start to feel myself relax. Mom heads over to the line. She knows exactly what I want; I never have to tell her. She does most of the talking in our relationship, but she can read me like a book.

I notice there is an empty easel in the room. I wonder if they have art showings. But before I spend too much time thinking about that, someone has placed a blank canvas on it. I see the girl’s back at first. Her blondish-brown hair shines down her back. She stares at the canvas like it holds the answers to all the world’s problems and tilts her head from one side to the other, trying to decide what she will create, I believe. Then, she quickly heads out the door as if inspiration has struck. She returns moments later with arms full of art supplies.

“Glad you could make it, Jade. It’s been crazy boring here today,” yells the bubbly girl from behind the counter. The girl simply gives her a glance over her shoulder and giggles a little. “I’m sure you could find plenty to do without me, Skye,” she replies.

Her voice does something to me. It’s so melodic. It sweeps over me like a touch. And then she turns toward me to look out the window behind my head. Her eyes scan the parking lot. That’s when I see them—the most beautiful green I have ever seen, shining bright like precious stones. Jade. That explains the name.

Only a couple seconds later, she senses my stare. Her eyes meet mine and a full smile spreads across her face as she takes me in and glances at my guitar.

“Oh good, I will have some music after all. I asked my dad to drop off my iPod. But live music is so much better. You must be new. I’m Jade.” She reaches her small hand out to take mine.

I actually don’t even know what to do. I push up my glasses to give myself a second before I touch her.

“Raine,” I say as I clear my throat. Why do I sound so nervous? Sweet little girls aren’t a threat to me or my mother. I think it’s her touch that must be making me feel unsettled like this. She is so soft and dainty. She is my complete opposite. Small where I am big; open and outgoing where I am guarded and reclusive.

“What are you going to play?” she asks as my mom comes back with a blueberry muffin and hot chocolate for me. Mom has that big grin on her face that she gets when she wants me to do something. I ignore that for now and think about the question. “Um, maybe some Ed Sheeran if you like him.” Why did I just ask her opinion? I usually just play whatever I feel like playing. I’m not really here to entertain everyone.

“Oh, I love him! I went to his concert last month in San Francisco. That man is talented. He’s like a whole band wrapped up in one cute little ginger. Do you know ‘Thinking Out Loud’?”

Of course, it’s one of my favorites too. But I'm not telling her that. I just look down at my guitar and start to strum the chords that I have played hundreds of times over the last year. It’s one of the songs I play when I start feeling anxious or worried that he will find us again. But this time, I am playing for her. The beautiful girl with the beautiful voice and the green eyes. I see her smile and turn back toward her canvas.

While I play, I notice more about her. How she sways to the music and hums to herself as she begins to paint, always with that slight smile on her face. Everything about her tells me that she is free to be herself. She was put in this world to make others happy. A few people walk in and smile at her as they go to get in line. Many of them know her by name and take a peek over her shoulder at what she is painting. The whole room almost seems to gravitate toward her.

The door jingles once again and a nice-looking man with a gracious smile on his face pulls up a chair and sets it down next to Mom. I inspect him with interest. But it seems his position is non-threatening. It’s just to be close to the girl with the canvas. He puts his foot over his other knee and leans back admiring her work. Or her. I'm not quite sure. Soon after, the barista—Skye, I believe—comes over and hands him a piece of lemon pound cake. The huge smile he has is almost as welcoming as this whole town seems to be.

“Thank you Skye, you spoil me.”

So, I guess everyone in this town is on a first name basis. Maybe this place isn’t ideal to be hiding out in.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Monroe. My mom would have my tail if she knew you were in here without your favorite dessert. I think she makes it just for you.”

Interesting. Maybe it’s not so bad when everyone knows all of your business. But still, that is not going to work for me and Mom. It just can’t. After eating the lemon cake, he looks at me and says that I can really play and that I should come sometime in the evening and meet the guys who have a little band in town. I see Jade’s smile widen and her cheeks turn a little pink. She goes back to her canvas and continues to paint.

“How about some Sam Smith?” she asks without even turning around when I finish my last song.

“Sure.” Mom gives me another smile as I start playing 'Stay With Me.'

“I’m Jonah,” the man says as he shakes my hand and then Mom’s.

“Hope,” my Mom tells him sweetly. “And this is my son, Raine.”

I see Jade look over her shoulder at the mention of my name. I really can’t read her expression, though.

“I have never seen you guys here before. Are you new here or just visiting?” he asks.

“Oh, we are new. Just got here a few days ago. Lovely town. I just adore the ocean. The waves are so soothing. I fell asleep listening to them last night.”

I see her pull a piece of hair behind her ear and then look down at the floor. Is that a blush on my mother’s cheeks? It can’t be. I have never seen her blush before. Something must be wrong. Maybe she is uncomfortable.

“Can I buy you both a cup of coffee and a snack?” he asks with another huge smile.

“I would love that,” my mom says with a grin as wide as his.

I just smile, shake my head and nod toward my now cold “hot” chocolate. No, not uncomfortable, I guess. Is my mom actually flirting? Not possible. This has never happened before in the three years we have been running.