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When it Raynes: Chapter 21

EMERSON

The numbness I allowed to take over when Rayne bundled me in my arms starts to fade the moment we get into the limo. The way he’s holding me only seems to make my heart clench more, it’s like he thinks one wrong move will break me.

Hell, he might not be wrong about that. I’ve never felt so fragile in my life. I’ve never felt like I need someone else to hold me together, but I’m honestly starting to think if Rayne isn’t touching me, I’m going to fall apart.

He doesn’t let me go for a moment though, if anything, his arms only grow tighter around me. He’s barely holding on to his control. His body vibrates with anger, but not toward me. No, all he’s showing me is care so tender it seems foreign for him.

When the car stops out the front of a tall building a few blocks from the venue, I think we’re stuck in traffic, but then I’m being carried toward the building, Rayne easily balancing me in one arm as he pulls a key card out of his pocket.

The lobby of the building is warm and welcoming despite how obviously upper class it is. I feel out of place in my torn dress and the tear tracks down my cheeks. The only saving grace is that Rayne covered me with his coat before we left the vacant room to head toward the car.

“Why are we here?” I ask quietly as we step into the elevator. The only positive I can see is that no one seems to have taken notice of the fact I look like a wreck, or that Rayne is carrying me.

“Because I need you in my bed tonight, sweet girl. I need to know you’re safe behind so much security there’s no way anyone can get to you.” His voice is soft, but I hear what lurks beneath the surface. He needs this just as badly as I need to be in his arms.

I nod. “Okay.”

We’re silent throughout the elevator ride and as we walk down the short hallway to the only door at the end. When he steps into the apartment, I hear my own intake of breath and cringe. This place is incredible. The space looks like something out of an interior decorating magazine and the closer we get to the two-story wall of windows, the more of the Chicago skyline comes into view. It’s breath-taking, and even though I don’t belong here, I find myself wanting to fall into the fairy tale of it all. I want to forget I’m flat broke with a mountain of debt, I want to forget that I have assignments piling up at home I almost definitely will not be able to finish by their due date, and I want to forget that even though everything with Rayne feels so natural that it feels like breathing, I know we can’t last. We’re from two different worlds.

I haven’t even begun to process the fact Rayne killed someone in cold blood in front of me. He deserved it, but fuck. I’ve never seen a dead body before, never been near a gun until tonight. And yet I only see Rayne as my savior, my safe place.

He doesn’t pause before making his way through the penthouse and into a bedroom, the bed in the middle of the room is huge. He doesn’t stop to let me take in the masculine room that smells like him.

It isn’t until we make it into the biggest bathroom I’ve ever seen in my life that he carefully lets me down to my feet but doesn’t allow even an inch of distance between us. Without so much as a word, he leans forward and turns the faucet for the bath on, streams of water pouring into the clawfoot tub.

“Rayne?” I ask quietly. The silence is deafening, and it’s doing nothing to calm my racing heart. I don’t know what I want him to say, or do for that matter, but I need something. I need him to be mad at me for leaving his sight when I promised I wouldn’t. I need him to be mad someone put their hands on what belongs to him. I need something.

He closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “Sweet girl, I’m really fucking close to losing my fucking mind. I need you to let me take care of you. Can you do that for me?”

I nod, because what else am I meant to do? Rayne is practically begging me to let him take care of me, and honestly, after the events of tonight, I don’t have the energy to do it myself. I’m covered in the blood of the man that tried to rape me, and every inch of skin he touched feels dirty and I’m not sure I’ll ever feel clean again.

“Thank you, Emerson.” Rayne wraps his arms around me and breathes me in. It’s not the first time he’s done it since he barged into the bathroom and saved me, and if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say it won’t be the last either. He needs me to ground him just the same as I need him.

Slowly he begins stripping the tattered dress from my body, unzipping it carefully and brushing the sleeves down my arms, uncovering my naked body inch by inch. His eyes don’t linger though, instead the moment the dress pools at my feet he crouches down in front of me to tug my strappy heels off one at a time, all the while holding me steady.

He tests the water and a moment later, he scoops me up and lowers me into the warm water. It feels like heaven as I sink into it, allowing my eyes to flutter closed. I’m calmer than I should be. Realistically, I should be in the corner rocking backward and forward. I was very nearly raped, and then I watched a man be murdered right in front of my eyes. Hell, I’m still covered in his blood and God knows what else. But I have my safety net nearby.

When I open my eyes, Rayne is watching me closely, his eyes tracking my every move, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he reaches for the shower gel and sponge sitting at the other end of the tub and carefully starts rubbing circles into my skin.

This version of Rayne is so at odds with the one I’ve spent the last few weeks falling for. He’s gentle but determined as he washes every inch of my skin, never lingering anywhere for too long.

When he’s washed me more thoroughly than I thought possible, he helps me lean back in the tub and rinse my hair out before he gently lathers shampoo into the long auburn strands. It feels strangely intimate to have my hair washed so gently by this beast of a man, but I let him do what he needs to do, knowing he needs this just as badly as I do.

Once he’s finished, the water is a shade of murky red I hope to never see again. I expect my stomach to churn as the water lets out of the tub, but instead I can’t tear my eyes from Rayne as his own feast on my bare skin. I shouldn’t be turned on. What I went through tonight was traumatic and I shouldn’t want anyone to touch me, but it’s different with Rayne. I need him almost as much as I need to breathe.

Rayne lifts me from the tub, and a moment later I’m enveloped by a large fluffy white towel. “Are you warm enough?”

I nod.

“Have you eaten today?”

“No.”

Rayne growls and wraps a large robe that must belong to him because his scent is everywhere, disarming me before he scoops me up again, heading toward the expansive kitchen I saw on the way to the bathroom.

“I was anxious about the event today and couldn’t face eating anything,” I explain.

“I think you just like breaking my rules, sweet girl,” Rayne rumbles. “Let’s get you something to eat. Your dad will be calling soon to check in.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, the emotions I’ve tried to stamp down taking me by surprise, just not the ones I should be feeling. Instead it’s the insane gratitude I feel for the man I know kills people for a living.

“For what?” he asks as he sits me on the edge of the counter, stepping between my legs.

“For taking care of me. For saving me. For killing him.”

Something dark crosses his features, his fingers coming up to graze my cheek where I’m bruised. It’s been throbbing ever since the numbness wore off in the car, but I haven’t seen it in the mirror, and I probably don’t want to. “He couldn’t live after putting his hands on what belongs to me,” Rayne growls. “I will always protect you, Emerson. I will kill anyone that hurts you, and I will burn the whole fucking world to the ground if it means keeping you safe. You are everything to me, sweet girl, and there’s nothing I won’t do to ensure your safety.” His lips crash down on mine before I can fully process the words he’s just spoken. He tastes like whiskey and sin as his tongue invades my mouth, taking everything he needs from me as I willingly give him whatever he wants. I’m powerless in his arms, and if it means he kisses me like this, I’m willing to forgo the independence I’ve always held so dear.

Rayne’s hands move to my hair, gently tugging the wet strands until he’s got me right where he wants me, while I fist the front of his shirt in both hands. Kissing Rayne is like touching a live wire. It makes me feel more alive than I’ve ever felt, and yet I know it’s dangerous, just like the man whose lips I’m becoming more addicted to with each passing moment.

His pocket starts vibrating and he pulls away on a curse before fishing his phone from the pocket of his pants. “Storm,” Rayne grunts out, but he doesn’t move. He doesn’t even move his other hand from where it’s gripping the hair at the nape of my neck. He nods once at whatever his brother is saying and then holds the phone out to me.

I take it from him and hold it to my ear. “Hello,” I say quietly.

“Em.” My father breathes a sigh of relief on the other end of the line. “Are you okay?”

I take a deep breath. “Yeah. I’m alright. Rayne is looking after me.”

“Do you need anything, honey? Do you want to come home and you can stay with me for a while. I hate that apartment you moved into.” It’s not the first time he’s offered for me to stay at his house, but it’s the first time I’ve considered it. I’m honestly not sure how I’m going to be able to be alone after what happened, and the idea of sleeping alone in the apartment I always felt unsafe in makes my stomach clench with nerves.

Rayne shakes his head, his eyes burning with something I can’t decipher.

“I’m okay, Dad. I promise. I’m staying here tonight, and then I’ll work out what I’m going to do after I eat and sleep.”

He’s silent on the other end of the line for a moment, as if he’s trying to decide if he wants to say what’s on his mind or not, but in the end I think he chooses to pick his battles, knowing this isn’t one he can win. “Will you call me in the morning?”

“Yeah, of course. And Dad?”

“Yeah honey?”

“I’m sorry this happened at the gala. I’m sorry if there’s any blowback on the Center or the event.”

“Don’t worry about that. The Saint James family handled it. No one ever knew you were missing because they made sure everything was handled.”

I blow out a breath, thanking the heavens they were there to take over when I couldn’t be what the event needed me to be. “Don’t worry about me, Dad. I’m fine, I promise.”

“I’ll always worry about you, sweetheart. You’re my only daughter.”

I close my eyes to stamp down the emotion bubbling in my chest. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Em. Tell Rayne if he doesn’t take good care of you, I’ll kick his ass.”

I laugh and meet Rayne’s amused gaze. “Noted.” He chuckles.

I end the call and hand him the phone back, feeling a little better now I know what happened didn’t impact the gala.

“I’m going to make you something to eat, and then we need to talk,” Rayne says, his dark eyes locked on mine.

I nod, but before I can reply he’s busying himself pulling things out of the fridge and pans out of the drawer under the stove, all the while I’m perched on the edge of the counter watching every move he makes with keen interest.


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