Haunted Rayne

7 | Sanctuary for the Haunted

A shower of precipitation fell over Rayne Foster's face as she emerged from the tunnel, blinking away droplets that splashed her eyes. Suddenly, she slipped and fell backward, but Cole caught her by the hand and heaved her to her feet. Her heart stilled, forgetting to pump a beat when she saw the little red eye of a camera perched in one of the trees. How many other eyes were watching her, unseen?

"Don't worry about it," said Cole. "My friend, Pierce, has been tinkering with the office system. That camera's been offline since the start of the school year."

Rayne wanted to believe him, although she wasn't sure why. Still, she followed him through the downpour, weaving between trees as water drenched the ground. By the time they reached the cover of a small, abandoned shack, Rayne was actually smiling. She always craved the adrenaline rush that came with risky adventures, but lately, she noticed it was one of the few things that made her feel alive again, too. The thrill numbed the ache in her bones far better than any medication they could've forced down her throat in the infirmary.

"Now that's a smile," Cole whispered, breathing deeply. The rain had plastered his damp dress shirt to his torso, revealing the flex of muscles sculpted by the storm. His brown hair, free from the restraint of styling gels, clung to his forehead in thick, sopping strands. Her own curls had become a wild, textured mane framing her cheeks, and she caught him glancing at her own wet shirt too. "You liked that, didn't you?"

She stepped back and frowned. "Don't get used to it."

Pausing to take in her surroundings, Rayne noticed the shack was incredibly small, barely more than two-hundred square feet. Cole slammed the decaying wooden door behind them, the impact swiftly transforming the loud roar of rainfall into a dull drumroll. He flicked open his Zippo, flaring it over the wick of a white candle. Its flickering light threw harsh shadows over the wall, over the melted wax that clung to the floor—a testament to previous visits.

"What is this place?"

"Welcome to my sanctuary," he said, waving his arms in display. "Found it three years ago with Lucas. The dorms have a strict 'no visitors' policy, so this is where we come to unwind after hours."

With that, Rayne's thoughts flickered to Lucas. She couldn't deny she was curious about him too, even if he didn't seem to like her very much. What was it about these boys that drew her in? Maybe it was their secrets, or perhaps, it was the reflection of her own darkness in their eyes? She cleared her throat. "You've never been caught out here?"

"I think the History teacher might have his suspicions, but I caught him with one of Bianca's friends, so he knows better than to say anything."

It was starting to seem like money wasn't the only power in this place. Knowledge was power, too. "Which friend?" Rayne asked, more interested in gathering intel than gossip.

With a dark, knowing glint in his eyes, Cole leaned against the wall. "You're thinking about blackmail, aren't you? To get that whole crew off your back?" He let out a thoughtful hum, lips curling into a faint smile. "I must say, it's not a bad move. Takes guts to play that game around here." His eyes locked onto hers. "Says a lot about you."

Instead of responding, Rayne began to pace the room and survey her surroundings. She didn't want to admit it out loud. Power was intoxicating, especially during this time in her life when she had become so utterly powerless.

Cole nodded, seeming impressed. "Alright then. Hillary Berkshire. She's the, uh, cute, reddish blonde one. If you knew what she did to wind up here, then this whole student-teacher thing really wouldn't be much of a surprise."

"And what about the other girl?" Rayne spun around. "Black hair? Bangs?"

"That's Jackie Kwon. She comes from a long line of influential business tycoons. Probably one of the most powerful families you'll come across." He cleared his throat. "She's, uh, off limits though. Pierce has a thing for her."