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Here I am again, in Raine’s pad, and I’m still not sure how it happened. The cold and wet has seeped into my bones and the details of Raine shouting at a customer and then hauling me to his truck and driving me to his apartment are kinda hazy.
He did yell at the guy, though. I remember that. He was so damn furious. I remember holding him back so he wouldn’t go after the guy. He’d looked like he wanted to punch the shit outta him.
Hell.
And then that kiss… So hot in the rain and the miserable cold, his hold on me so damn possessive. It had felt good.
“Here.” Raine appears from the direction of his bedroom and holds out a towel at me. “Dry yourself before you catch your death.”
I shiver. Death. Fuck.
What’s wrong with me? I mean, sure today was brutal, and I’m still dazed. But why?
As I turn the thought over and over in my mind, I feel a different kind of ice seep through my veins.
No, Simon Gomez and his men didn’t get their hands on me today. The two johns I had before Raine showed up were okay. Bland. Forgettable. Nonviolent, quiet types. If you’d asked me a couple of weeks ago, I’d have told you today was a good day.
But it wasn’t. Everything was wrong—and now, only now it feels right again. Here, in Raine’s apartment, with Raine.
Which is one hundred percent fucking wrong.
“Want something warm to drink?” he asks and nods toward the kitchen. “Or eat? I can make you a sandwich—”
“No.” It comes out harsher than I’d intended, but fuck, I’m scared of this. Of myself near him. “No, thanks.”
I’m not in a good place right now. Well, worse than usual. I’ve just sent away Sheena and Clary on a night bus to Kansas City, where a friend of a friend swore they’ll have a room and a decent job at a restaurant waiting for them. That’s good.
But next one in line is Mayleen who’s leaving in a few days, and I’m… more lost than I imagined I’d be.
“Jase—”
“Look.” I don’t even have the energy to correct him, demand he call me by my full name. I lower the towel. “I can’t stay the night again. And…”
“And what?”
“No more fooling about. Fuck me. Pay me. Let me go.”
“Sure thing. Not like I asked you to stay the night last time. You fell asleep, remember?” He starts unbuttoning his shirt. “Who said I wanted anything else?”
Whoa. It’s like a punch to the stomach, almost making me double over. I swear my heart twists in my chest.
But I don’t move.
My fault. I pushed and prodded him, poked him until he reacted. Pissed him off, judging from the set of his jaw, but I’m right, dammit. This is how things are. He’s a customer, nothing more, and I can’t afford to feel anything about Raine.
So why the fuck does it hurt?
“Undress,” he says, voice cracking like a whip, and the towel falls from my hands.
Shit. Get your wits together, Jason. “Aye, aye, captain,” I mutter, pasting on a smirk and unzipping my sodden jacket. It sticks a little and I tug on the zipper harder. I peel the jacket off and start working on my tank top. “Shower first?”
“Nah. I like you dirty.”
I swallow, trying to dislodge the lump stuck in my fucking throat. Christ. This is okay, I remind myself. This is good. I was starting to get used to him being all gentle and kind.
Always a fucking mistake. When will I learn? Not to need, not to trust. Not to let desire or feelings dictate my moves.
And… then he strips his shirt, that’s a
