It’s been a week since Rayne started working at the Center, and as much as it pains me to say it, I think he might be the best volunteer we’ve ever had, community service or otherwise.
He’s great with the kids, he’s happy to help with anything, and I’m not too proud to say that if he hadn’t been around to help with the gala, it probably wouldn’t be going ahead. I still haven’t figured out the dress situation despite raiding my wardrobe more than once and considering I haven’t been in contact with any of my friends since I started working three jobs and barely sleeping, I have no one to ask for one. But that’s a tomorrow problem.
I don’t have a shift at the diner tonight, thank god, and it means I can go home for a few hours’ sleep before I’m due at the club at eleven. I should start on the assignment I have due next week, but I don’t have it in me. All my brain capacity has gone toward the logistics of the event this weekend, and the mere idea of writing five thousand words about the effect bullying has on adolescents makes me want to curl up in a ball and cry.
“I’m heading out for the day.” I pop my head out the back door where Dad and Rayne are playing basketball with some of the kids on the outdoor courts. It’s a nice day, cold but nice, and they must have decided on a change of scenery. At this time of year, the kids are almost exclusively inside, so it’s good for them to get some time outside.
“Play with us, Em!” One of the kids, Kevin, grins at me.
I smile and drop my bag by the back door. I don’t really have the energy, but I also can’t say no to him. Kevin has seen more in his ten years than anyone should see in their entire lives, including watching his mother overdose last year.
Rayne watches me with keen interest as my dad throws the ball to me. I bounce it a couple of times before throwing up a shot that whooshes through the net. I’ve been playing on these courts since I was old enough to walk, and while I don’t spend enough time on them these days, I haven’t lost it.
He lets out an impressed breath but I try to keep my eyes off him. If my body had anything to say about it, I would spend my days staring at Rayne. Every day he shows up in jeans and a Henley, and every day I’ve had to pry my eyes away from him. Not only is he the best volunteer we’ve ever had, he’s also the most attractive.
“Em’s got moves.” Kevin claps animatedly as some of the other kids move from where they were perched on the sidelines.
I miss this.
I miss having the energy to actually spend time with them.
But Brad took that from me. And until I can get my head above water and drop at least one of my jobs, I will continue to miss it.
Dad chuckles and the sound warms my heart. He’s been more upbeat this last week, and I think it’s because of Rayne. Every morning he’s here to help with the breakfast program, and there seems to be more food than usual. I haven’t seen him come in with the extra food, but I don’t believe in coincidences.
Some days he has to go right after the kids head off to school, but others he hangs around and helps me in the office. It’s a weird setup. He doesn’t strike me as someone that does their own admin work, but he’s surprisingly good at it.
“How about a quick game?” Rayne challenges.
I check the time on my watch, if I leave now I’ll have plenty of time for that nap I so desperately need, maybe even be able to cook a proper dinner with protein and vegetables. I look around at the hopeful faces and find myself nodding.
What’s the saying about sleeping when you’re dead?
An hour later, I’m walking out to the parking lot with a genuine smile on my face. It felt good to let my hair down and connect with the kids again, I even managed to forget about my troubles for a little while, and it was so fucking nice to think about something other than money, school, and the gala.
I’m so distracted by my good mood that I completely miss the body leaning against my car until it’s too late.
“Emmy.” Brad grins, pushing off the car and taking long strides until he’s close enough to touch me.
I take several steps backward, but he eats up the distance each time. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I hiss.
“I came to see you. I miss you.” He reaches for me but I dodge the movement.
I take a deep breath and steal a look around the parking lot, my fight or flight instincts on high alert as I take in the man who I thought I loved once upon a time. His dirty blonde hair is messy and unkempt, and the clothes he’s wearing are creased and mussed, but it’s his eyes that almost have me turning on my heel to hightail it out of here. His pupils are dilated and that tells me all I need to know. He’s on something, probably something heavy. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.
I choose my words carefully, not wanting to set him off if he’s high, I’ve seen first-hand how that can end. Enough kids have called Dad or I in the middle of the night to pick them up because their guardian is in a blind rage from something they have taken. “I have to go,” is all I can think to say. Inwardly, I roll my eyes at my own stupidity. You’d think this was the first time I’d dealt with someone on crack, but for some reason, this feels different.
Brad reaches for me again and this time I don’t move quick enough to dodge it and I find myself wedged between him and the car, the steel frame colliding with my back in a whoosh. “I need your help, Emmy. Please.”
“I can’t help you, Brad,” I whisper.
“There’s someone following me. I’m late on a payment and I think they’re going to kill me if I don’t come up with the money,” he tells me, the same story from the other day on the phone, but this time I see how scared he is. The fear is evident in his eyes, even through his drug fucked daze.
“I-I…” I try to speak, but my own fear is creeping up the back of my neck. I know I can’t get out of his punishing hold, a wall of steel behind me, and body in front of me. There’s no escape, and that thought makes the air leave my lungs as I struggle to formulate a plan.
“Emmy, I need you to help me. Please.” Brad’s face buries in my neck and I clench my eyes closed as he inhales my scent.
When I pry my eyes open, I spot Rayne across the lot, an unreadable expression on his face as he stares at the scene unfolding in front of him. From the outside looking in, it probably looks like a couple sharing an intimate moment. If only.
Help, I mouth at him and pray he can see it from where he’s standing.
When he takes long strides toward us, his gaze fixed on Brad, I almost allow myself to relax, but I know I can’t allow myself to fall into a false sense of security until his body isn’t trapping me anymore.
“Are you okay, Emerson?” Rayne’s deep voice startles me despite the fact I’ve held eye contact with him from the moment he started toward us.
“Fuck off. Can’t you see we’re busy?” Brad growls and I wince as his fingers dig into my hips to the point I think he might leave bruises.
“I didn’t ask you.” Rayne’s almost black eyes hold mine, and they must see the fear in them.
I squeeze my eyes shut as Brad’s fingers dig harder into me, but I’m frozen in place, barely able to draw in a breath through the paralyzing terror raging through my veins.
A moment later, Brad’s body is torn from mine and my eyes pop open in time to see Rayne’s fist connect with his face in an impressive hit. “I suggest you get out of here while you can still breathe without the help of a machine.” Rayne’s voice is dark and unfamiliar. I’ve spent a lot of time with him over the last week, but the man standing over my ex’s body is a stranger. He’s cold and menacing, a direct contrast to the man playing ball with the kids twenty minutes ago.
It should scare me, Rayne should scare me, but he doesn’t. If anything, the power he exudes as he stands over Brad has my thighs clenching together with need. Which is all kinds of fucked up, but Jesus, watching someone fight for your honor is hot as hell.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Brad scrambles to his feet and moves into a defensive position.
Rayne stands between Brad and me, his body shielding mine, but now his face is out of view. “I’m the person that will break every bone in your body if you ever touch Emerson again. Get the fuck out of here before I lose my patience.” His voice is even, as if he’s talking about stocks or last night’s basketball scores.
Brad’s eyes dart toward me, and Rayne steps into his view, blocking me from him. “Did I stutter?” Rayne growls.
“This isn’t over, Emerson,” Brad says through gritted teeth before turning on his heel and walking away.
I slump against the car, my body shaking with a mixture of fear and adrenaline. I’ve taken self-defense classes, so many you would think I’d be able to think about fighting back, but the thought didn’t even fucking occur to me.
“Emerson.” Rayne crouches in front of me. His voice is soft, so different from a few moments ago. His fingers brush across my jaw, lifting my face until our eyes meet. “Are you okay?”
I close my eyes, unable to keep them locked with his intense stare.
“Look at me,” he demands, and my eyes shoot open at the command. Before I have a chance to analyze why the fuck I would comply with him so instinctively, he continues, “I asked you a question, I expect an answer.”
A shiver travels down my spine at the command in his even voice, my body reacting to him in a way I can’t remember it ever reacting to anyone in the past. In fact, I probably would have punched anyone else in the throat for speaking to me like this, but apparently not Rayne.
“I’m okay,” I whisper, barely loud enough for me to hear through my pounding heart. It’s only now that I realize my entire body is shaking like a leaf, but it’s not because I’m cold.
Rayne nods once, but he doesn’t move his fingers from my skin, instead moving them until his big palm covers my cheek. “Did he hurt you?” he asks.
I take another breath to calm my racing heart, except it’s not the fear that has it beating so hard I think it might jump clear from my chest. No, it’s Rayne’s touch that sets a fire in my core, my entire body heating from the most innocent of caresses.
“Not really. He was just holding me tightly, and it might bruise but I’m not sure.” My voice shakes and I hate it. I hate showing weakness, especially to someone like Rayne, someone who is so calm and collected. It makes me feel weak, and if there’s one thing I’m not, it’s weak. My legs shake so hard I’m surprised I haven’t collapsed in a pile on the ground, but somehow I manage to stay standing.
“I’ll give you a lift home.”
“No, that’s okay, I’ll drive myself. Thank you for your help.”
Rayne stares at me. “I wasn’t asking.”
And a moment later I find myself being cradled in his arms as he takes long strides across the parking lot toward his fancy SUV. I don’t know anything about cars, but I know this one cost a fuck ton of money.
“Rayne, I need my car. I need it for work tonight,” I argue.
“I’ll have someone come get it.” There’s no room for argument and so I do the only thing I can. I allow my head to rest against his hard chest, feeling safer than I can ever remember feeling, and a sense of calm that seems so out of place after what just happened washes over me.
