Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Rayne shook his head, feeling helpless again.
“I don’t need you to come with me, not for what I have to do. I don’t want you to see me like that ever again.”
“Like what… what do you have to do?”
Mike’s expression was grim as he robotically stood and put on a pair of black jeans and a midnight-black hoodie. “I have to teach someone a lesson.”
“What lesson?”
“That women and kids are always off-limits.”
Rayne’s stomach plummeted. “Oh god.” What was Mike going to do? How far would he take the punishment? It was all enough to make Rayne nauseous with worry.
Mike tucked the handgun into his waistband at the small of his back, then took his deadly switchblade and shoved it into his front pocket. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
“What do you want me to do, then?” Rayne broke down and asked. “You constantly tell me what you didn’t bring me here to be… tell me what I can be now.”
“No matter what I do tonight… it’s gonna be bad. Vengeful.” Mike came over and kissed him again, this time with more passion and desperation, before he pressed their foreheads together. “Be my peace when I get back.”
Chapter Forty-eight
Mike
The downstairs lights were on when Mike pulled his truck into the garage a little after five in the morning. He didn’t want to go inside looking the way he did, but stalling wasn’t going to make it any better. Before Mike could kill his engine, Rayne opened the garage door and rushed outside to him. The expression on his face said it all as he reached for him and pulled him into his warm chest. And for the first time in hours, Mike took a long, calming breath.
Rayne squeezed him, his face buried in Mike’s sweaty throat. “I’m glad you’re home,” he whispered. “Come on. Let me take care of you.”
Mike didn’t have the strength to fight anymore. He was physically and emotionally beat.
“Mike.” Rayne cupped his cheeks in his gentle hands and tilted his face up. He could feel the blood from the right fist he took drying on his jaw. His knuckles—shit, Mike’s entire hand—were bruised, raw, and swollen. He couldn’t look his gentle Rayne in the eyes. Not when he’d failed a good friend. “Let’s go inside.”
He was glad Rayne wasn’t disgusted by how he looked, but he did seem nervous. He locked up behind them and carefully held Mike’s bloody hand as he led him to the breakfast bar in the kitchen and parked his tired ass on the stool.
“Your breathing is erratic… Try to calm down, please.”
“Rayne,” Mike gritted.
“Shhh.” Rayne shook his head slowly as if he didn’t want to hear it.
Shit.
“You don’t have to talk about it if it’s… too hard,” Rayne whispered in the dark as he pulled a couple of bags of frozen vegetables from the freezer.
Where the hell did those come from? Rayne led him upstairs in silence and into the hall bathroom. He sat Mike on the toilet and pulled out the first aid kit from beneath his sink. It was brand-new, with the cellophane still wrapped around it because there’d never been anyone to tend to Mike’s wounds before, and he’d just never bothered.
First, Rayne cleaned the blood from his cheek and used some antibacterial ointment on the cut that stung like hell, but he didn’t let his grimace show. Then his lover did something that made his head spin. He held Mike’s hands under the warm tap and took great care and attention to clean his swollen hands. Once Rayne was satisfied with how he’d tended to the cuts, he turned on the shower and began to remove his sleep pants. Steam filled the bathroom, and Mike felt dead on his feet, but he wasn’t going to turn down the invitation as Rayne stepped under the hot spray and held his hand out to him.
Mike braced his palms against the tile as the hot water beat over his shoulders and upper back. He kept his head lowered in shame while Rayne used a thick washcloth to clean him from his head to the soles of his feet. A murky pool of crud, blood, and grime rinsed down the drain, but too bad his guilt wasn’t as easy to wash away.
Mike was toweled off and led to bed like a toddler, but instead of feeling like a child, he felt… Mike exhaled a sharp breath, his heart in his throat… he felt loved. When Rayne had tried to convince him to stay in bed by mentioning that they’d just made love that night, he hadn’t been waxing poetic like Mike figured—he’d meant it.
Mike noticed his sheets were changed and his room was cleaned, like Rayne hadn’t slept while he was gone. Lying flat on his stomach, Mike closed his eyes when the top sheet was pulled over his naked ass. He heard Rayne moving around the room, but he was too exhausted to crack his eyes open. All he wanted was to sleep and end the nightmare he’d just lived through.