I don’t fall apart.
I didn’t fall apart when my mom left us, or when the Center lost all its funding, or even when I found out Brad had betrayed me and I was so deep in debt I would be lucky if I paid it off by the time I was ready to retire.
But for some reason, I allow myself a moment of vulnerability while Rayne holds me. The tears are freeing. They’re all the tears I hold back because I have to be strong, I don’t have any other options. For a moment I allow myself to feel everything I would usually lock away and throw away the key, trusting Rayne to put me back together again.
And he does. He holds me, helps me breathe through what I think may be a panic attack, and then when the tears finally slow and I expect him to pull away, he just holds me tighter.
“I should have called you,” I rasp. “When I got home from work, I almost did. But it was so late, I thought you’d be in bed. And I don’t know, a lot of what you said last night was a bit… insane. I didn’t know if you meant it, or if it was just the heat of the moment.” I look down, finally breaking eye contact. His dark irises are enchanting, I lose myself in them every time I linger for too long.
Rayne’s fingers guide my face up to meet his eyes again, as if sensing my need to break the contact but not allowing me to. “It wasn’t the heat of the moment, I meant every word.”
My mouth drops open as my brain fights to keep up. He meant it when he claimed me. He meant to reprimand me for having low iron and not seeking a second opinion. And he meant it when he said I needed to call him about my health and safety.
He grasps my wrist gently, bringing it up for him to survey the bruises wrapped around it. Darkness clouds his features, but somehow I know he’s not angry at me. “This looks worse than the bruises you got from that idiot yesterday. Are we blaming the iron for this, or was Russo rough?”
I consider lying, but I think he’d know if anything but the truth came from my mouth. “He wanted to hurt me.” The words cause a shiver to rush through my body as they leave my mouth. Fuck. I have to go to work tonight. How the fuck am I supposed to avoid the man that owns the place? It’s just not possible.
“You’re not going back there,” Rayne says as if quitting my best paying job is an option.
I shake my head. “I have to.”
“You’ll do as you’re told, Emerson. Your safety is non-negotiable.”
“But… I…” Heat touches my cheeks as I contemplate telling Rayne about the debt, about why I need the money, it’s the only way I can see that he might understand. Who am I kidding? He’s never gone a day without something. His family has so much money, he’s probably never had to work a day in his life. “I need the money,” I whisper, dropping my head again to avoid him seeing just how true the words are.
It’s only now that I remember I’m straddling his lap, only a few layers of clothing separating us. I need space. I can’t think when he’s so close to me, and I quickly attempt to slip from his lap.
Rayne’s faster though, his hands coming down to my thighs to hold me in place. “Stay where you are, sweet girl.”
The endearment sends a shiver of desire through my body. If anyone else called me that I would throat punch them, but the words coming from Rayne feel significant somehow. This huge, gruff and frankly intimidating as hell man using such a soft nickname, has me weak at the knees every time he says it. I wonder idly if he notices just how much it affects me when he calls me that, but who am I kidding, Rayne notices everything.
I stop moving right away, for some reason craving the pleased look he gets when I do as he says, and when the softness touches his eyes, a small smile plays on my lips.
“Good girl. Now, I know you’re worried about money, but you said it yourself, Russo is going to try again, and you may not get as lucky this time.” Rayne tries to keep his voice soft, but I don’t miss the way he stiffens as the idea of Russo getting his hands on me crosses his mind. I want to be mad that this complete stranger thinks he has some kind of insane claim on me, but I can’t find it in me. He cares about me, and as fucking crazy as that is, it still makes my heart skip a beat. Having someone care about my safety to the point it makes them crazed has an unfamiliar heat settling in my core.
“I know that, but… I need the money.” Every time I say those words, it gets harder to get them out. Rayne won’t understand, how could he?
“How much would you normally get in a night?”
“It depends on tips, but normally a few hundred on a good night.” I find myself answering before I’m even conscious of it.
Rayne nods as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. A moment later, he’s pulling a wad of cash out of the black leather and handing it to me.
“I can’t take that.”
“Yes, you can.”
I scramble off his lap before he can stop me. “No, I can’t. We’ve been… I don’t know, whatever we are, for twelve hours, I most certainly cannot take money from you.”
Rayne sighs as if finding my inability to understand exasperating.
The feeling’s mutual, buddy.
“I can see I’ve lost you somewhere along the way.” He stands and crosses to where I’m standing, backing me up until I’m pinned against the wall the way I was last night. “Your health and safety are my number one priority. You can’t go to work because your safety would be in jeopardy and that is not something I am willing to negotiate on, you’re worried about money, I have money, problem solved.”
I stare at him incredulously. “Problem not solved. Problem abso-fucking-lutely not solved.” I push against his chest, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t even budge for that matter. His muscles ripple under my hands and I fight the involuntary shudder threatening to take over.
“I don’t see the problem.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course you don’t. Everything I’ve got, I’ve worked for. I can’t just take money from you, that’s not who I am!” I basically shout.
Dad is out back, so he won’t hear, and the kids are probably still fifteen minutes from starting to arrive.
“You’re not going back there, Emerson. I will not allow you to walk into the fucking lion’s den. Do you know the shit Russo has his grubby hands in?” Rayne growls.
I shake my head, because while I’ve heard the rumors, I have no fucking idea. I know he’s into drugs, guns maybe, but outside of that, I’m clueless. The way Rayne is looking at me with barely contained rage and possession, but behind that, behind the almost black irises that captivate me so completely, is fear. Rayne doesn’t strike me as someone that’s scared of much of anything. He’s strong and imposing, and his entire demeanor screams to not fuck with him, but the idea of me being in danger, of someone hurting me, that puts fear in his eyes, and the significance of that isn’t lost on me.
“Good.” He blows out a breath. “I’m no saint, but next to him, I look like one. I need you to take this money and never go back there. I know you’re independent, but I need you to do this for me.” It’s the plea in his voice that disarms me. Rayne is asking me to trust that whatever Russo is into is far worse than anything I can comprehend, and practically begging for me to let him take care of me.
I look at the wad of cash in his hand, my entire being telling me not to take it, but what if he’s right? My mind wanders to the darkest things I’ve heard on the streets over the years. Women and children going missing, drive-by shootings, drugs, dead bodies showing up in dumpsters. The way he’s looking at me makes me think about all the kids that have gone missing over the years. Kids that were at the Center every day like clockwork, and then one day they weren’t anymore.
“I can see your pretty little head trying to put pieces together. Don’t. You don’t want or need to know about the darkest parts of Chicago.” Rayne’s voice is soft, his fingers trailing from my shoulder to my hips. “Please take the money. It’s not charity, it’s not a hit to your pride, it’s selfish because I don’t want to lose you before I’ve even had the chance to have you.”
I take a deep breath, knowing there’s no way I can say no to him. I finally nod, looking down so I don’t have to look him in the eye, somehow my fragile ego can’t take that. “Okay, I won’t go back, and I’ll take the money. Thank you.” It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him I’ll pay him back, but even if I were able to actually do that, which given my current financial state doesn’t seem likely, I know enough about Rayne to know he wouldn’t take it.
He lets out a sigh of relief, as if he was ready for me to keep fighting. “Thank you, sweet girl.”
I can’t bring myself to look at him, the shame burning me from the inside out.
Rayne’s fingers brush down my cheek before gently tipping my face up to meet his. “Don’t hide from me, Emerson. Don’t ever hide from me. I want all of you, and nothing you do or say is going to change that.”
For a moment I think he’s going to kiss me. He’s looking at me like he wants to consume me. But instead, he takes my hand in his and places the wad of cash in my palm. “If you need more, you come to me, okay? Don’t even think about going back to that club.”
The urge to break our eye contact tugs at me, but I nod, unable to force my body to look away.
“Good. Now what can I help with so you can go home and get some sleep?”
