When It Raynes (Frost Industries #1)

by Montana Fyre

The thing about being so pale is that there’s no hiding, and I fucking love it. I don’t ever want my woman to be able to hide from me. Not her pain. Not her pleasure. Not even her embarrassment. Like I said, I’m a selfish bastard and I want it all.

I notice the dark smudges under her eyes. It looks like she hasn’t slept in a week, and a streak of protectiveness comes to life in my gut. The emotions this woman is dragging from my cold, black heart should have me running out the door, but I’m intrigued.

“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.”

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.

Emerson is tiny in my arms. Impossibly small against my large frame, and when it comes time to put her into the passenger seat, I almost can’t bring myself to do it. I want to hold her against me for as long as I can as she leans on me for comfort.

Her entire body shakes as the adrenaline starts leaving her body. Her face is buried in my chest, hiding her expression from me, but I can feel it. The fear radiates from her, and I’m tempted to track that asshole down to teach him a lesson. To teach him not to mess with what belongs to me.

I can’t do anything that might scare her more than she has already been scared today. It wouldn’t be fair, and it won’t win me any favors. As it is, I’m going to have an all-out fight on my hands when I claim her. She won’t like it. She won’t like it when I squash her independence, or when I demand to know where she is and what she’s doing at every moment of the day. But it’s the way it’s going to be. It’s the way it has to be.

Why she needs three jobs while she’s studying is beyond me, and it’s going to stop the moment she’s mine, but the club will be the first one to go. It’s one of Russo’s businesses, and I hate the idea of her being anywhere near that slimeball, especially knowing he has his finger in the trafficking pie.

I unlock the door before forcing myself to place her on her feet on the other side of the front door. My eyes survey the apartment and each surface I take in only makes me want to pick her up and take her back to my place again.

I’m gentle even though my body screams at me to strip her as quickly as possible. All I can see is the pain that was on her face as I crossed the parking lot, and sickening anger overwhelms me. Is this what it’s like to care about someone else? To give a fuck about another human being.

“I’m making sure you’re not hurt,” I tell her like it’s obvious, but rationally I know it’s not. I know that every move I’ve made since I put her in my car hasn’t been rational, not that it makes a bit of difference.

“I did ask,” I snap. “And you lied to me.” Gently, I brush my fingers over the bruises forming on her waist. Blinding rage tears through my body and all I can see is marks that aren’t mine marring her perfect skin. I imagine beating the life out of that asshole for putting his hands on my woman, watching as the life drains from his eyes. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it sure as fuck wouldn’t be the last, but it would be the first kill I ever enjoyed.

“Why do you care?” Emerson asks, some of the fight I expected from the start in her eyes. Part of me wants to piss her off more, to drag the clawing kitten out of her and enjoy every scratch she inflicts, but not right now. “Because you’re mine, and I don’t take kindly to people touching what doesn’t belong to them.”

She pushes against my hold on her, but I simply tighten my grip around her wrist, not enough for it to hurt, but just so she knows how fucking serious I am. “When I ask a question, my sweet girl, I expect an answer, especially when it’s about your health and safety.”

Rayne’s face is pained as he surveys the marks, and I long to ease his worry. “I’m anemic. I have low iron, so I bruise really easily,” I tell him.

“Why is your iron low? Do you need to see a doctor?” “I… what? No! I don’t need to see a doctor. I have pills, but it’s still pretty low.” I stare at him, and I’m sure I’m looking at him like he’s lost his fucking mind, because I’m pretty sure he has. “It’s not fine if it’s low. That’s the opposite of fine,” Rayne growls. “Isn’t there more they can do? Maybe I should take you for a second opinion, I’m sure I could get you into my doctor.” “No!” I catch him off guard and duck out of his hold, putting some much-needed distance between us. “I’m anemic because I have bad periods, okay? My doctor has done everything under the sun and this is just how it is. It’s been this way for the last ten years, and it will probably be like this for the next thirty. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“No, that is not okay. If your iron is low, we need to get it higher. If your periods are bad, we need to make them better.” His voice is low and filled with danger and fuck me if it’s not the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. I know my face is flushed because I feel impossibly hot, like I’ve been thrown into a sauna. “I’ll make you an appointment with my doctor.”

“You are mine. And as part of being mine, I need to know that you’re okay. Your health. Your safety. Any danger that could come to you is my business. If that means taking you to doctors, then that’s what I’ll do. I need you safe and healthy.”

His fingers gently brings my chin up until I’m looking him in the eye. “This is happening. The sooner you make peace with that, the sooner all the fun can begin.” A smirk tugs at his lips a moment before they lower to hover a breath above mine.

“Soon, sweet girl,” he whispers against my lips, and then a moment later he’s slipping a card into my hand. “This is my number. If that asshole comes near you again, I want you to call me immediately. If you’re sick, I want you to call me. If you’re hurt, I want you to call me. If you’re scared, or feel unsafe, I want you to find somewhere safe and call me, and I will come to you. If I find out you didn’t call me, believe me when I say, you’ll be in a world of trouble. Do we understand each other?”

Fuck me, I need to convince Emerson to let me buy her a new car. Also to let me pay off the debt and move her out of the hellhole that is her apartment. I have my work cut out for me and I’m reminded once again how much simpler my life was before a woman was involved.

A random middle-aged man knocked on my door as I was getting ready for my shift, and handed me my keys, muttering something about it being a death trap and destined for the wrecker.

I should just do it and tell her I have, at least then the fire would be back behind her emerald irises, but I don’t want to make her mad.

Emerson lets out a breath and looks at the to-do list on her desk. Fuck. I hate seeing her like this. So miserable. So tired. So defeated. I can’t fucking stand it. The urge to take control, to make her get some sleep, to make her quit her two shitty jobs so she can focus on the work she loves and her studies, my entire being screams at me to do what comes naturally to me. But I don’t. There will be a time and place for me to take over, to give her rules she has to follow, to make sure I know where she is at every second of every day. But today isn’t that day.

Her very bruised wrist. Before I’m even conscious of what I’m doing, I grab her hand in mine and push the sleeve to her elbow, fresh rage erupting behind my eyes. Marks I didn’t put on my girl. “What the fuck is this?” I growl. “And don’t even think about lying to me. I know you didn’t have these when I left you last night, so where the fuck did they come from?” My eyes are glued to the dark angry marks around her wrist in the shape of a hand. I don’t give a fuck how low her iron is, there’s no fucking way this was done accidentally. Whoever put their hands on my woman did this intentionally.

“And why the fuck didn’t you call me? I was very clear about wanting to know if you’re hurt or unwell!” It’s not until Emerson flinches that I realize I’ve raised my voice, her breaths coming in hard and fast. I’m scaring her. That’s the last thing I ever want to do. I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm my raging anger.

“Why do you care?” Emerson whispers, tears filling her eyes. “I thought I was very clear about that yesterday. You’re mine, and therefore your health and safety are my priority at all times. Now are you going to tell me what the fuck happened and why you didn’t call me the moment this happened?” She shakes her head. “I’m not yours.”

She drops her head into her hands, her shoulders deflating. “I don’t understand any of this, Rayne. My life is so fucked up, and you’re overwhelming. I have to go to work tonight, and Russo is almost definitely going to pull the same kind of thing, and this time, I won’t get so lucky.” A loud sob fills the office and a moment later I’ve gathered her in my arms and sat back in the chair she had been sitting in. “Shh, it’s okay, sweet girl. I’ve got you.” I’ve never felt the need to comfort someone else, not even my sisters, but Emerson’s tears make me want to tear the whole fucking world apart to destroy anything that would ever make her cry. The only tears I ever want to see in her eyes are tears of pleasure as I make her come so many times she loses count.

“Hey, look at me.” I gently tilt her chin until our eyes meet. “What Russo did isn’t your fault. I know I threw a lot at you yesterday, and I’m not angry you didn’t call me. I’m angry that that fucker is still breathing after putting his hands on you. Russo is a bad guy, the worst of the worst, and the idea of him breathing the same air as you makes me fucking furious.”

Emerson’s bottom lip quivers as more tears cover her cheeks. “But… but… you yelled.” Another sob breaks free, her breaths coming in hard and fast. Fuck. She’s going to start hyperventilating if she doesn’t settle soon. The tough exterior I’ve come to admire about her is gone, and all that’s left is the vulnerable woman I long to protect from the world, shield from anything that could hurt her.

“And in… and out.” I keep the steady rhythm up, watching as the tears start to slow, her breaths begin to even out, and her eyes never leave mine. Emerson is so fucking beautiful right now, unfiltered, real, her walls down for me to see the fragile doll she tries so hard to hide from the world, and I realize just how fucking deep the feelings I never knew I was capable of run.

“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.

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.

“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.”

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’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.

“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.”

Once Emerson agrees to take the cash, I can finally breathe again. As soon as she told me where the marks came from, I knew I had to talk her into quitting, but getting her to accept the money was an uphill battle. It reminded me how different she is from the women I normally go after.

Once the last item is ticked off the list, I gather her coat up from the rack by the door and hold it out to her. “Time to go home.” Emerson stares at me for a moment before looking at the clock. “I can’t go home. It’s not even lunchtime.” “We got all the shit done. Now it’s time for you to go home and get some sleep. You’re dead on your feet and I’m not taking no for an answer.” She huffs out a breath. “It would be the first time if you did,” she mutters under her breath. “What was that?” I raise an eyebrow, barely containing the smirk that threatens.

“I see I haven’t made myself clear, or maybe you’re just not listening, so let me repeat myself, and this is the last time I’ll do it in such a… formal setting. The next time I have to remind you that your health and safety are the most important thing to me, I will do it with you bent over my lap while I redden your ass. Do I make myself clear?”

I reach across the console and grasp her tiny hand in my much larger one, the need to touch her overwhelming. “What’s wrong?” I ask gently. Before I met Emerson, I didn’t know I had a soft bone in my body. I mean, I kill people for a living, but she brings it out in me. Hiding under the tough exterior, she shows everyone is someone in need of softness, and I want to be that for her.

“You don’t have to come up, I know you’re busy.” Emerson lifts the heavy handbag onto her shoulder. “Not too busy for you, sweet girl.” I hold my hand out to her and she only stares at it for a moment before she hands it over. “Keys?” Emerson sighs as we start walking toward the entrance to the stairs, tugging her car keys from the pocket of her jeans. “You’re bossy, you know that?” “Get used to it.”

“No wearing other men’s shirts,” he growls. I stare at him for long moments, my mouth agape. What the fuck just happened? “I-I… what?” I stammer. Every interaction with Rayne is weirder than the last, and just when I think I’ve worked out what’s going on, he pulls something like this and confuses the shit out of me. Thunder crosses his face as he crowds into my space, bringing his face down until it lines up with my own. “No. Wearing. Other. Men’s. Shirts. If that’s what you like to sleep in, I will bring you some of mine, or better yet, wear nothing at all.”

“Don’t guys usually want girls to be as thin as possible? Therefore negating the eating concerns?” I ask out loud even though I’m pretty sure I meant to keep the question to myself. “I want my woman healthy, and being healthy means eating three meals a day, and not just sad looking sandwiches and ramen.” Rayne sits beside me with his own plate of food in his lap.

“Watching you eat that pasta was a fucking religious experience,” Rayne mutters as he takes our bowls to the kitchen. It’s such a domestic task for him to do, and he looks out of place doing it. Especially seeing as he’s shirtless, a fact I’m trying my very best not to focus on.

“When was the last time you slept for more than a few hours at a time?” Her bottom lip disappears between her teeth again as she thinks about her answer. I reach up and tug the soft pillow, only barely containing the groan that rises to the surface at the sight. “I don’t know,” Emerson admits.

I take a deep breath to calm myself, knowing that if I allow myself to think about it too much, I’ll probably go back to that asshat of an ex of hers and beat the life out of him for doing this to her. “How many hours do you normally sleep at a time?”

“Let me help you relax for a little while.” It’s not a question. Regardless of what the next words out of her mouth are, she will be relaxing, she will be having a nap, and I will be helping her with it.

“Good girl. Now I’m going to take good care of you, sweet girl, but I’m going to need you to trust me. Can you do that for me?” “Yes.” Her answer sounds unsure, but her body is practically vibrating with need. Before she can blink, I’m on her, my body hovering over hers the moment her back hits the mattress. “If at any point you want me to stop, you need to tell me, okay?”