It’s the numbness that disarms me. The moment Rayne carries me into the penthouse, my entire body is devoid of feeling, as if the relief of being back in my safe space gives my body permission to not feel anymore.
Everything that has transpired since I walked out of the apartment surrounded by security plays on a loop in my mind. Every moment I spent away from what I now know to be my safe place was more horrifying than the last, and all I want is to curl up in the middle of the bed and sleep the rest of the day away. I can deal with the trauma tomorrow. I can deal with everything else when I’ve allowed myself some time to process it.
“Oh my god, Emerson.” Wynter is on her feet and bounding toward us before I can even blink. “Are you okay?”
I shake my head, clinging onto Rayne like my life depends on it, and at the moment, I think it might. The idea of not being in his arms has panic clawing up my throat.
“I’m going to clean her up. When Doc gets here, just let him know we won’t be long,” Rayne says quietly as he continues through the penthouse to our bedroom and straight into the bathroom. Three jackets were thrown over me the moment we were back in Saint James territory, partially because no one wanted to see what they’d done to me.
Realistically, it could have been so much worse, but that doesn’t make me feel any better, it doesn’t take away the pain, or the fear, or the heartbreak I felt when I thought I’d never see Rayne again.
He doesn’t let go of me as he turns the shower on, or as he strips me out of the jackets and my underwear, and he doesn’t bother to strip himself. He kicks his shoes off before walking us under the warm spray. The moment the water meets the cuts on my skin, I hiss in pain. The sting takes me off guard and I bury my face into Rayne’s still covered chest. I wish he was naked. I wish there was nothing between us. But we both know he can’t put me down. Neither of us could handle that.
“I’m sorry, sweet girl,” he whispers. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” I rasp.
“Of course it’s my fault. I promised I would keep you safe. I promised I wouldn’t let him get his hands on you. But I didn’t protect you.” The self-loathing in his voice digs into my heart painfully.
I choke on the tears pooling in my throat. “It’s not, Rayne. It’s no one’s fault.” The water at his feet is stained crimson with my blood as it washes from my body, leaving behind the marks that they left in the soft flesh. I don’t want to look, and I don’t want Rayne to look either. The idea that these marks could change the way he sees me has a new type of panic rising in my chest. I’ll understand if he doesn’t want me anymore. If seeing the marks his enemy made on me changes the way he sees me, and the thought of their hands on me makes his skin crawl. He wouldn’t be the only one after all. Every time I allow my eyes to close, the memory of three sets of grubby hands groping me, touching me in a way I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forget.
“The fire?” I ask.
“Wynter coordinated everything from here because we couldn’t be there. Your dad is fine, the kids are fine, they were out in the yard at the time the fire started. The damage is minimal and isolated, so there will be no need to shut at all.”
I sigh in relief. The Center hasn’t closed even for a day in the last forty years and the idea of changing that now has me breaking out in a cold sweat. “Thank you.”
Rayne chuckles. “You’re too good for this world, Emerson. Today you were kidnapped, hurt, and could have died, and all you’re worried about is the Center.”
I close my eyes to stamp down the emotions threatening to bubble over. If I allow myself to break down now, there will be no coming back from it. “I’m sorry I’ve caused so much trouble for your family.”
“Don’t,” he growls. “None of this is your fault. That piece of shit set his sights on you. He took you from me, he hurt you. And you didn’t ask for any of it.” He gently strokes my now wet hair and I lean into his touch, needing the contact to keep me from falling apart.
“I thought I’d never see you again,” I whisper. “I thought it would be too dangerous for you to get to me. There was so much security, and I understand how territories work. That’s what I was most afraid of. That the last time I saw you was in anger and I would never be able to tell you how I felt.” The sobs I’ve kept buried inside finally rise to the surface, the violent cry shattering through my chest.
“I will always come for you, Emerson. There is nothing in this world that would keep me from you. No amount of security. No threat of war. Nothing. You are my woman, and I will always bring you home.” The conviction in his words only makes me cry harder and Rayne’s arms tighten around me, holding me as I cry.
“I’m sorry for getting defensive about the Laurence thing. I know you wouldn’t put them in any danger. It was a knee-jerk reaction I regretted the moment you walked out.”
“Hush, sweet girl.” Rayne brushes the tears from my cheek gently. His suit is saturated, but he can’t tear his eyes off me, can’t look away. “None of that matters anymore. All that matters is that you’re home where you belong.”
I nod, squeezing my eyes shut to stop the tears that seem never ending. “Does Dad know I was taken?”
Rayne sighs. “No. He was dealing with the fire and Wynter told him you had a migraine. We didn’t want to stress him out until we absolutely had to.”
“Oh thank god.”
Once the water runs mostly clear, Rayne turns the faucet off and carries me to the vanity, only putting me down for long enough to wrap a towel around me. The moment his body leaves mine the panic rises again. Even though I can see him and if I really wanted to, I could touch him. Being out of the safety of his arms is like being stripped bare. It’s like losing the air from my lungs and the next beat of my heart.
“You’re all wet,” I say quietly.
Rayne smirks at me, the first real show of the man I know. The wet fabric of his shirt clings to his biceps and his pants to his thighs, showing his impressive length. If I weren’t completely traumatized from everything I’ve been through today, I would probably think about tearing off the wet fabric and having my way with him. “Like what you see, sweet girl?”
“You know I do.”
“I do.” He smiles as he quickly strips from his saturated clothing, leaving it in a puddle by the shower, and then I’m back in his arms. He carries me straight into the wardrobe and sits me on the ottoman in the center as he starts riffling through one of the drawers until he finds what he’s looking for.
I watch with keen interest. Each of his movements seems strained, like he’s trying to move slowly for my benefit. “Are you okay?” I ask as he kneels in front of me, lifting one of my legs to slide a pair of cotton panties over my ankles.
“No,” he replies. “No, I’m not even close to okay, sweet girl. My woman was kidnapped and hurt. I should have protected you. I should have made sure you were okay. I failed you, and I don’t know how I’m ever going to live with myself.”
I reach out and press my palms to his cheeks, bringing his face up until he’s looking at me. “It’s not your fault, Rayne. You did everything right. And you came for me. You and your family risked everything to save me. And I’m home now. You brought me home.” I try my hardest to smile, but the corners of my lips barely turn up.
Rayne blows out a breath as he gently feeds my other foot into the panties, careful to keep the fabric from brushing along the cuts Tony left when he sliced my jeans from my body. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to let you out of this apartment,” he confesses.
I nod. “That’s okay. I don’t know when I’ll be ready to leave.”
Rayne stares at me for long moments, as if looking for a lie in my words, but he won’t find one. The thought of leaving my safe place right now makes my skin break out in a cold sweat and my heart beat uncomfortably in my chest. “We’re getting married.”
I nod. “Okay.”
“No, I don’t mean in a year or two. I mean, as soon as you’re back on your feet.”
“I know.”
“You didn’t answer before.”
“I assumed it was happening regardless of my answer.” I shrug.
Rayne tips his head back and laughs the first real laugh I’ve heard since he saved me and it makes my heart warm. “You’re a quick learner, sweet girl.”
