Page 20 of When it Raynes

The sass I’ve come to expect from her is nowhere to be seen, and I find myself missing it. I’ve always liked my women to know their place, to be submissive, but the more time I spend with Emerson, the less I want that. I crave her spunk, the glint in her eye when she knows she’s pushing my buttons, the way the corners of her mouth quirk up when she’s about to backtalk me.

Part of me wants to demand she go home to get some sleep, but I don’t want her to pull away. Not when she seems so fragile. “Are you working tonight?” I ask, moving to crouch in front of her. I should move to the chair across the desk, but I can’t stand to be away from her just yet. I need a few more moments with her within my reach.

Emerson nods and a defeated sigh falls from her mouth. The sound has something inside me, something I’ve never felt before, clenching almost to the point of pain.

“Can you take the night off?”

She shakes her head, her eyes staring at her hands in her lap.

It’s because of the money, the debt that idiot racked up in her name, the debt I’m trying to pay off without her knowing about it straight away. Everett is working on a way to make it look like there was an error in the system that wiped it, but he’s coming up empty. 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.

“What can I do to help with the gala? Maybe you can go home for a nap before your shift tonight?”

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.

“I don’t even know where to start.” Emerson sighs and scrubs her face with both hands, her sweatshirt rolling up slightly and showing me her wrist for the first time since I walked it. 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.

The color drains from her face as she looks from me to her wrist, and then back again. “I… um…” She’s struggling to come up with a lie I’m going to believe, which means however she got these bruises is bad.

“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.” Her voice wavers, her eyes resuming their previous post staring at her hands.

A smirk quirks at the corners of my lips. “That’s where you’re wrong, sweet girl. You may not have known it, but you were mine from that very first day. The moment I locked eyes on you, I knew I was going to claim you.” The honest words slip from my mouth of their own accord.

Her eyes grow wide. “You’re insane.”

“Not insane, baby, just telling you the truth. Now, stop avoiding my questions before you earn yourself more of a punishment than the one you already have owed.”

“Punishment?” Emerson whispers.

“Yes, punishment.”

She sighs and finally meets my eye. I hate how dejected she looks, how the fire I crave is dim. “Angelo Russo and his cousins decided they liked the look of me. They gave me a drink I knew was drugged, and the only reason I wasn’t forced to drink it is because one of the other waitresses saved me. When I was leaving, Angelo grabbed my wrist and told me he wasn’t done with me.”

If I thought I was angry before, I was fucking feral the moment his name fell from her pretty lips. How dare he touch her. How dare he taint her with his evil. He doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as her, let alone touch her. I take a step back from her, not wanting the fury evident on my face to frighten her. If Russo hadn’t already been on my hit list, he sure as fuck is now.

“Rayne…” Emerson’s voice is quiet and has me turning to face her. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you. I just didn’t know… I mean, you said all that stuff yesterday, and I didn’t realize you meant it.”

“Of course, I meant it,” I growl. “I was very clear on the instructions I gave you.”

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.

“I’m sorry.” Emerson buries her face into my chest, her entire body shaking in my arms. I’ve never felt so powerless in my life. I’ve had the power to move mountains since Frost Industries broke into the market when I was twelve. I’ve manipulated people into doing what I wanted them to do, torn lives apart, and killed people for my own benefit. But as I hold Emerson, her tears soaking my shirt, I would give it all up to take her pain away.

“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.

---