When it Raynes: A Dark Mafia Romance (Frost Industries Book 1) -
When it Raynes: Chapter 39
Security ushers me into the elevator and through the lobby, acting as a shield between me and the rest of the world. Personally I’m pretty sure the wall of muscles surrounding me brought more attention to us, but who am I to comment?
“Miss Miller, my name is Dan. This is how this is going to go. We have three cars. You’ll be in the middle one with me and two other guards and the driver. The cars are going to change position within the traffic a few times just in case someone is following us, and then we are going to split up. I don’t want you to worry. We are going to keep you safe.”
I nod my understanding as my heart beats against my ribs painfully. I can’t quite tell if it’s the fear of being outside the safety of the penthouse, or whether it’s because there’s been a fire at the place that so many people consider home, regardless of where they lay their head at night.
Dan helps me into the large black SUV and pushes me into the middle seat as he gets in one side, and another guard positions himself in the seat on the opposite side. This seems like an extreme amount of security for one person, but then Rayne does value my safety above all else.
I tighten my hold of my phone in my hand, fighting the urge to call him to apologize again. He wouldn’t let me get the words out and they sit heavy on my chest with each passing moment. I fell for him knowing he was a criminal. The first day we met, I knew, and yet I hardly fought to stop his advances, willingly falling into his lap whenever he whispered dirty words to me.
The phone buzzes in my hand and a small smile tugs at my lips. “I was about to call you.”
Rayne chuckles. “I thought you might be freaking out and might need a distraction.”
“I need to apologize for what I said in the office. I didn’t mean for it to sound the way it did.” I take a deep breath before continuing. “A lot of these kids have parents that are in the life one way or another. Dads that are drug dealers, moms that have to use their body to put food on the table, and we try our best to support them to prevent them from falling into those same generational habits. I know you didn’t mean you would involve Laurence in that side of the business, but my knee jerk reaction was to fight against it, and for that I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Emerson. I understand. This is a hard life to come into, and I need to be more understanding about that.”
I sigh. “How bad is the damage?”
“I’m not sure. The guy we’ve had keeping an eye on it said not that bad, but we’ll have to have a look when we get there. Wynter is going to call our builder and have him meet us there to have a look at the damage and get repairs organized as soon as possible. We know how important it is for the kids, and we don’t want them not to have an escape for long.”
Tears well in my eyes, threatening to spill over at Rayne’s words. Whether or not I’ve allowed myself to see it, Rayne cares about the kids just the same as I do. Over the weeks he volunteered, he grew connections with them, and on top of that, he knows how important it is to me. “Thank you,” I whisper.
“Wynter is also looking at a building we may be able to lease for a short time while repairs are being done, but we’ll assess the damage first to see if that’s a step we need to take. I promise we’re going to take care of everything.”
“Rayne, I—” The words die in my mouth as Dan shouts something into the cab and a moment later the car spins out of control. The impact of another car into the passenger side takes my breath away, and somewhere within the space I hear Rayne’s voice yelling for me, but I must have lost my phone on impact.
The screeching of metal surrounds me and a sharp pain radiates in my side. Dan’s body moves to cover mine as the sound of bullets hitting the car fills my ears and fear travels through every fiber of my being. This is it. Angelo Russo is going to get his hands on me, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
I think about the life that lies ahead. A brutal man who won’t care about my feelings, or my pain, or me as a human being. Children born to a man I don’t love, who doesn’t love me, or likely even them. The thought has bile climbing up my throat and my ringing ears cause unbearable pain in my aching head.
The last time I would ever see Rayne I was full of conflict, and I never had the chance to tell him how I feel. I would never be able to utter the words I’ve never said to anyone before.
“Stay down,” Dan shouts from above me, his body crushes mine beneath him, putting his body between me and the bullets smashing the windows. Glass surrounds me on the seat, and when I look up at the man on my other side, I’m met by cold, dead eyes.
A scream catches in my throat, staring at the second dead body in a week. All this to keep me safe. The weight of Dan at my back combined with the panic clawing through my body only serves to make the ringing in my ears worse as I fumble around for my phone.
When my hand touches the cool screen, tears track down my cheeks as I pull it toward my ear. “Rayne?” I whisper.
“I’m on my way, Emerson. Stay right where you are. Don’t fucking move,” he yells.
“I love you.”
Silence meets me on the other end of the line and for a moment, I worry the line has dropped out. Such a strange thing to be concerned about as a man shields me from stray bullets and the prospect of being taken to a cold, ruthless killer like Russo looms over my head. “I love you too, sweet girl. Hold on for me, okay? I’m not far from your location.”
“Okay.” I nod.
“Grab the girl,” someone shouts from behind me and I cry into the phone. This could be the last time I would ever hear Rayne’s voice. The last time he ever calls me his sweet girl.
“Fuck,” Rayne roars.
The phone is knocked from my hand as the door is torn open and Dan’s weight lifts from my back in a savage pull that leaves me winded.
“She’s a pretty little thing. I see what the boss sees in her,” one of them muses before I’m pulled from the car.
I have to fight. I have to do something to get away to buy Rayne some time. When my feet hit the asphalt, the afternoon sun blinds me, causing me to stumble over my own feet. The man behind me holds my hands behind my back as he pushes me to take unsteady steps.
“Come on, bitch,” one of them growls.
I get my bearings and blink past the stars dancing in my vision only to see bodies littering the ground. So many bodies I can’t comprehend how so many men put their lives and bodies on the line for me. Men who probably had families that loved them, children who would grow up without a father all because of me.
In a moment of clarity while chaos surrounds me, I realize I can’t allow their sacrifice to be for nothing. I can’t allow a child to grow up without a father and just lay down and take the path being forced upon me. The men who surround me are misogynistic. They don’t believe a woman can protect herself, and that’s their first mistake.
I take deep calming breaths to settle the rising nausea that has settled in my throat before slamming both elbows back into the man’s gut, grabbing both his arms and using all my body weight to flip him on his back.
Searching the ground beneath me, I grab a hold of a gun and point it at the man closest to me. “Drop it,” someone nearby growls.
But I have nothing to lose. Death is a much kinder option than being Angelo Russo’s baby farm, a better option than the years of abuse I could look forward to if I went with them. I’d rather die a hundred times over than live a life without Rayne.
I stand tall despite my aching body screaming at me. I’m covered in blood but I’m yet to figure out who it belongs to, from the pain radiating through my body, I think there’s a pretty good chance at least some of it belongs to me. As I take aim at one of the men, I ensure the safety is off and hold my finger over the trigger. I’ve never fired a gun with the intention of ending a life. In fact, the only place I’ve ever fired one is at a shooting range when Dad taught me how to shoot, but if I had ever doubted my ability to pull the trigger in a moment like this, that doubt is long gone.
“Rayne is going to kill you all when he gets here,” I tell them, forcing myself to sound as confident as I need to pull this off. I have no idea how far away he is, or if he has any backup to help take down the eight men standing in front of me, but I have to try. “Gee, Russo really has a hard-on for me, doesn’t he. Sending so many of his men to collect little old me.”
“Russo is going to beat you within an inch of your life for all the trouble you’ve caused him.”
I nod. “All the more reason I’m not going anywhere with you.” I shrug nonchalantly. “Now, the way I see it is, we have a few options. Either you take a step and I shoot you. I know you can’t shoot to kill me because Angelo wants me alive, so that option is off the table for you. Or we can stand here and wait for Rayne to get here and slaughter each and every one of you in all kinds of fun painful ways, your choice.” The words coming out of my mouth have a mind of their own, the adrenaline kicking in when I need it most.
“Listen here, you little cunt.” One of the men steps forward and I don’t hesitate to unload a bullet into the center of his chest. I should go for the head, a head shot is guaranteed to take him down, but the way my hands shake I needed as big a target area as I can manage.
“Anyone else?” I look around at the men looking at one another as if they didn’t expect for me to fight back.
In the distance, I hear tires squealing and I almost let out a sigh of relief. That has to be them, doesn’t it? But before I can think to be hopeful a blinding pain radiates through the back of my head and I drop to the ground, my body going limp from the agony.
“This little cunt is way more trouble than she’s worth,” the man who hit me mutters before throwing me over his shoulder unceremoniously, the impact of his shoulder into my stomach taking the breath from my lungs. “We have to go, Saint James will be here any minute now.”
A single tear rolls down my cheek. I don’t want to show them fear, but my fate has just been sealed and that thought fucking terrifies me.
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