“It’s new. What do you think?” Lachlan asked. He smiled as he turned to look at Rain over one shoulder.

“It’s big,” Rain said.

“Isn’t it? It was hell to get it done. Shoulder blades and ribs especially, all in one session.”

“It’s… very high quality. I see a lot of bad tattoos around here, and that’s… the lines are straight, and the shading of the letters are good.”

“Then you like it? Awesome. You think Allie would like it?”

“I don’t want to speak for her. I can ask her.”

“Nah, I’ll show her. I see her at the bonfires a lot. Thanks,” Lachlan said. “I’ll see you around. If you need anything—”

“I’ll ask.”

Lachlan grinned, and got back into his car.

Rain was left only with the deepest feeling of sadness. He was so tired, he ached all over, and his heart ached too. He wanted to tinker, and later, he would reach out to Erin. She would listen, he would give her a tempered version of how his days had been—

The machine shop was badly weathered, not well insulated, and existed primarily as a large shack, with two stories. It was where cars and pieces of equipment were brought to be repaired, with communal tools left for anyone to use.

The second floor, though, was mostly left to Rain. He winced with every step up, then let himself in.

He wasn’t alone.

Erin was already there, sitting with her knees to her chest, face buried in her arms.

Rain’s heart sank. A tiny, selfish part of himself bemoaned the fact that it didn’t stop. That he didn’t get to rest. It was threats to his life leading into him asking to be beaten to restless nights, church, Lachlan…

He wondered if that was the monstrous part of himself that he’d passed on to the others. The person he had been felt unrecognizable now, to the point he couldn’t even say what was him anymore.

Erin was crying. Clever, brave, beautiful, compassionate, caring Erin. Seeing her cry made him want to cry, more than anything else in the past twenty-four hours.

He had never seen her cry and he felt as terrified with the unanswered question of what had done this as he had felt with the threat of being tortured to death.

“Are you okay?”

She jumped slightly at the words. She hadn’t heard him come in?

“No,” she said. She blinked, and the blink squeezed out a tear. She looked away and wiped the tear away. “I’m sorry. I know this is your workshop, but I needed to get away.”

“It’s okay. What happened?”

He didn’t want to know. He wanted to help her at the same time.

“I had a run-in with Tim,” she said. She swallowed hard.