Rage (A Jaden Rayne Adventure Book 1)

by Lilith Darville

  I keep an eye on Rayne with my peripheral vision. She seems completely unaware of anything but the monitors in front of her, oblivious of the keys as her fingers fly over them. The only sound she makes is the occasional curse word. Around nine o’clock, she stretches and sighs.

  “I’m starving. How about I see if I can salvage any of our pizza?” She talks as if the visit from Viper’s goons hadn’t happened.

  “Okay.” I draw the word out, unsure of what else to say. I follow her slowly across the empty space that separates the monitoring station from the living area. She pulls the food we threw together earlier from the fridge. Takes the tongs and tosses the salad.

  “Looks okay. Now, all we need is dressing.” She examines the contents of the fridge and comes out with a bottle of Catalina dressing. Nose wrinkling, she waves the bottle in the air. “Is this all you’ve got?”

  A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. “Yes, that’s what I like.”

  “Well, I don’t.” She starts opening cupboards and putting various bowls, utensils, a glass jar and food items on the butcher’s block. “Oh good, you’ve got premium EVOO. Do you cook?”

  “Not really. Steve makes sure the kitchen is well stocked for times like these.”

  “Is it true that you’ve never brought other women here?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

  “Have I ever lied to you?”

  “How the fuck would I know? And you haven’t answered my question.”

  Fiesty. “I told you I’d never lie to you. I gave you my word.”

  “Pinky swear?” She holds up a crooked pinky finger.

  Really? This time, I don’t hide the grin. “Pinky swear.” My large digit almost swallows hers as I lock my pinky with hers.

  She nods and throws a small smile my way as she pours oil and vinegar in the glass jar. She throws in some garlic and spices, snaps on the lid and shakes the jar.

  “How long ago did Sasha become a woman?”

  I open my mouth to answer and close it just as quickly. Not bad, Rayne. Thought you’d slip that in so I wouldn’t notice, eh? I chuckle under my breath. It’s my turn to ask questions. I step into her private space. She’s generating heat like a furnace. She stiffens but keeps on shaking that damned salad dressing.

  “Do you always ask questions that are none of your business?” I say.

  “I don’t usually have conversations with people.”

  What a fucking odd thing to say. “Who did you talk to, if not people?”

  She gives me a sly little grin. “Cats, mostly. I’m a big cat lover. And Summer, of course, before they took us.”

  “There must have been others you talked to. What about the girls in the dressing room at the warehouse?”

  “Those fucking hunties were a waste of time.” Scathing is the only word that fits the tone accompanying those words.

  Hunty? “What did you call them?”

  She turns that piercing gaze on me. Through me. Something about how she looks at me makes me feel stripped as if she can see past the mask I wear for the world. No one but Sasha has seen past the mask since I perfected it, not even my mother. God rest her soul.

  “Hunty. Jesus, don’t you ever watch TV? It’s from RuPaul. You know, they’re cunts and honeys.”

  There’s a lot about her world that I don’t know. I plan to put a stop to that this very minute. If we’re going to be stuck together for a while, she can bloody well be a little more forthcoming about who she is.

  “So, what happened to your mother?”

  She stops shaking the bottle of dressing and stares hard at me, jaw rigid. “She shot my father when I was eleven.”

  12

  Rayne

  Move up, get away from all those things you hated …

  This fucker is challenging me. Taunting me. Pissing me off. And I like it. Well, that’s just nuts. I can’t like him. He’s a man. All men are scum. Sure, this one helped me, but everything he does is predatory, like the wolf he reminds me of. His every movement is deliberate, controlled, and dangerous.

  I dress the salad and pour a glass of wine. Settling in one of his huge armchairs, I tuck my feet under my butt. I might as well get nice and comfy for the interrogation. Jaden sits across from me.

  “So what happened to your mother?” He’s taunting me. I know it, and still, I take the bait before I can snatch a breath.

  “She shot ES right in front of me when I was eleven.”

  “She shot him?”

  Shit! Lie? Truth? Lie? “Welllll … she didn’t exactly shoot him.” I risk a glance at Jaden’s face. His mask has dropped into place. Fuck. I rush on, trying to make up the lost ground.

  “I thought she was going to shoot him. She was holding a shotgun to his head. At least I think it was a shotgun. It was long and big. See, ES hunted a lot and had a gun collection and—”

  “Rayne, for fuck’s sake, would you get to the point? I could grow wrinkles waiting for you to say anything relevant.”

  This guy sure knows how to make me pissy. I much prefer to tell stories the way I want, which usually involves giving as few relevant details as possible. I suck in air through my teeth.

  “Fine. You want to know? Okay, I’ll tell you. My mother went nuts, okay? She started hearing things that weren’t there and believing things that weren’t real. She got it into her head that ES was fucking around on her. He probably was. He …”

  Jaden gives me a look that could cause frostbite. Geez.

  I continue. “She loaded the gun and held it to his head. He begged me to call the cops. She said she’d pull the trigger if I did. I ran up the street and called the police. End of story.”

  I’m not going to let him know I almost peed my pants I was so scared. Not going to let him know how mortified I was when the cops dragged my mom down the steps by her arms while she kicked and screamed and her wig went crooked. I’m not going to let him know my shame.

  I’m not going to let him know I cared more about how things would look to the neighbors than I did about what was happening to my mother. I can’t care. If I start to care, I’ll fall apart. Then who will look after Summer?

  I’m not going to let him know how ES fell to his knees, sobbing, begging me to take care of him and Summer. That that was the last time I cried. I’m not going to tell him—ever—that was when my training as substitute wife started. I rush on.

  “You want to know why ES sold me, right? All the sordid details. Like I said, my evil stepfather gave me to some big gambling guy to pay his debts. That guy sold us to Viper. All I know is they came and took us away one night. They told us we were going to a party. They lied.”

  Tears, long buried, seep toward the surface along with forbidden memories. While I talk, I take a few tokes and pour a glass of wine. Not a chance I’m going to show weakness in front of this man. I busy myself and look everywhere but at him.

  “All the usual sordid stuff happened as I’m sure you’re aware.”

  That damned eyebrow goes up again. “Why don’t you tell me.” It isn’t a request. He leans forward putting his forearms on his thighs. I read nothing but curiosity in those glittering golden eyes. I shiver, take another gulp and another toke. Memories, swimming in pools, threaten to burst from my eyes. I imprison them behind closed lids. I lean my head back against the soft back of the easy chair and look at the stucco washed ceilings and limestone walls.

  “It was a long car ride. There was another girl in the car. Nobody said anything. I’d say we drove for a couple of hours. They made us get out in some warehouse type place. The two guys who picked us drove us to Viper’s warehouse. I watched while Whippo paid the bastards. They herded us into a room where they made us strip. The other girl and Summer did as they were told. I resisted. They threw me into a cell.”

  I wouldn’t get into the beatings, the drugs, the liquor, the depravity.

  “I had to sleep without my clothes or food. They gave me water, t
hat’s all.”

  “How did it feel?”

  I glance his way. He sits in exactly the same position as before, eyes riveted on my face. His care and concern annoy me. I can’t want this. I can’t have this. Caring is related to love. Love doesn’t exist. Love is just something people use to manipulate you and get what they want.

  “How the fuck do you think it felt? Exposed, that’s how.” Wretched. Demeaned, Filthy. Cheap.

  What I don’t want is to be talking about this stuff. What I do want confuses me. Every time I let my guard down, I end up regretting it. You would think I’d know better by now, but noooooo. I want this man to want me. Desire me. Only me. Something that would never happen. With this kind of guy, every head in the room turns. He’s just that magnetic, that beautiful. In a strong, rugged, devil-may-care kind of way. You don’t want him. Repeat after me.

  He flexes those magnificent shoulder muscles. I itch to run my hands over them but sit on them instead, trying to figure out what the hell has possessed me. Jaden patiently waits me out. I take a deep breath.

  “I don’t really remember how I felt. I guess I was scared. Trying to figure out what was happening. Viper’s goons started with the drugs right away. I’m not even sure what they gave me, but it gave me a rush when they injected it. I finally find a drug that makes me high, and I have no idea what it is.”

  Jaden looks doubtful.

  “I know it sounds weird, but that’s what I remember.”

  “When did the sex start?”

  “Pretty much the next day. It started with them. The pimps. They took me to a room to teach me. It was a disaster.”

  “How so?”

  I’ve had enough. I don’t want to remember the details, the pain. “Look, that’s all I can remember. Drug fog. It’s all a blur.”

  He studies me, then stands and stretches. “How about some more of that pizza? Then we’d better get some sleep. We’ll be leaving first thing in the morning.”

  We warm up some pizza in an awkward silence. Jaden takes a couple of pieces over to his computer station, occupying himself with whatever the hell he finds so fascinating. It’s as if I’m no longer here. I bring the laptop to the butcher’s block and surf the Net while I eat. Suddenly, the thought of Jaden watching me have sex with one of the scum pops into my head. Just thinking about it mortifies me—and makes me hot between my legs. Would he want to screw me? I get all hot and bothered, and then shame floods through me. Here I am, thinking about the despicable. Maybe ES was right, and I’m good for nothing but spreading my legs like a whore. You’re no better than a dog copulating in the streets. One of his favorite reminders of just how worthless I am.

  I sidle up alongside Jaden and grab his empty plate. My arm brushes his arm, by accident. Yeah, right. And if you believe that … I stand stock-still, waiting for his reaction. Nothing. The only things that move are his fingers. I might as well not exist.

  Pissed off, I tidy up the kitchen, slamming every door I can find. Still nothing from the wee prick. I occupy myself looking around his Hole. I much prefer calling it the Batcave. The Hole is actually a collection of caves strung together. Jaden rushed me through a quick tour earlier, intent on showing me the facilities and not much else. A faint light shines down the hall, and I wander toward it. Following the curve in the long hallway, I go back to Jaden’s bedroom to take a closer look. It’s a large cave covered in some pinkish pebbly stuff etched to make it look like bricks. A huge bed with an ornately carved headboard dwarfs the room. A fireplace taller than me stands at the foot of the bed. A beautiful ornamental rug framed in glass takes up a large part of the ceiling above the bed. Fine needlework in browns, golds, and burgundies depicts dancing women in various stages of undress. I go in search of another bedroom only to discover there isn’t one.

  I return and stand near Jaden. I’ll be damned if I’m going to be spurned twice. So I stand there and hum and tap and move things around on the desk until I hear a huge sigh.

  “What?”

  “Um, sorry to disturb you.” I’m not, but my mother taught me manners if precious little else. He says nothing. I bumble on. “Um, where will I be sleeping?”

  Jaden points toward the hall I’ve just explored. “The bedroom’s down there.”

  No. No. No. I don’t want to sleep in the same bed as a man. Nope, not ever. You are never safe from their lecherous paws.

  I keep my voice small. “Where will you be sleeping?”

  “In the bed.” Filled with challenge, his golden eyes lock on mine. “Where will you be sleeping?”

  “On the couch.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  Everything about Jaden radiates displeasure. More like dislike. Clearly, he’s annoyed by my existence. Well, he was the one who brought me here. I waffle between righteous indignation and self-pity. Strangely enough, I’m not afraid. Maybe for the first time in years.

  Without warning, Jaden towers over me. His chest a wall of well-defined muscle I itch to touch.

  “What do you want from me?” Hostility and aggression drip from him.

  Every instinct in me screams, “cringe.” My hands curve into tight fists, ready to take on Goliath. I’m right out of my fucking mind, but therein lies one of my many problems—I can’t back down.

  “Nothing. Absolutely. Nothing.” I turn and set off down the hall with more swagger than I feel. I’m not going to be controlled by a man again. Ever. If I say it enough, I might believe it.

  13

  Jaden

  Didn’t want to have to feel that way …

  Rayne stands there, looking all doe-eyed, scuffing the toe of her shoe against the slate floor. That tiny scratching sound annoys the living hell out of me. God bring back the tedium of my life because chaos comes in the name of Rayne. Yet, when I challenge her, fill her personal space with my bad-boy Jaden aggression, she doesn’t back down. I watch in amazement as hurt Rayne morphs into my little dragon. She squares her shoulders. Her fiery gaze dares me to take her on.

  I’ve hurt her. But, goddammit, something about her just gets under my skin, irritating like a muscle cramp. I feel like shit. Even Coral is giving me the cold shoulder, choosing to run after Rayne instead.

  You’re doing it again, Jay. Rayne obviously has issues with having sex with me. Like I’m going to take her against her will or something. She’s obviously really uptight. Common sense overtakes testosterone brain. If I’d been used and abused like she has, I’d probably have more than issues. I shake my head. Enough is enough. There’s every reason not to let my cock lead me one step further down this path.

  Rayne’s too young, though twenty-five doth not a child make. She’s needy on the one hand and fiercely independent on the other. She is feisty. She has issues, I mean, fuck, multiple rapes. Assault. I feel her heat. She’s a chatty pain in the ass. She’s unique, exotic, and very sensual. I shake my head at that one. Maybe in a tomboyish sort of way. It’s a puzzle.

  I go after her. She stands in the middle of the bedroom, looking lost. I step closer, careful not to invade her space. She looks up. Tears sparkle in eyes that light with defiance. In two swift strides, she stands in front of me, jabbing her tiny index finger in my pecs.

  “Listen, you asshole. I don’t know who you think you are, but you brought me here. First, you tell me I’m free to go. You hire me. You insist I be honest with you. You didn’t demand sex from me. You’re nice to me. What’s that about? Now you’re acting like I’m some kind of pustule you’d like to pop and have disappear. Talk about mixed messages. If you want me gone, just say so.” Her chin juts toward the ceiling as she looks up at me. “Well? Do you want me gone or what? Do you even like me?”

  Yes. Too goddamned much. I want to look away from those penetrating eyes, but they hold mine tight. I put my hands on her shoulders. She shrugs them off.

  “I don’t know.” I watch as her shield of indifference starts to drop into place. No. It’s my turn to shrug my shoulders. Those eyes demand nothing less than the t
ruth. I run my fingers through my hair. “Of course I like you. My moods have nothing to do with you.” Everything to do with you. “Look, you’ve got to admit there’s been a lot going on.”

  Her eyes narrow again. “What do you want from me?” She turns my question back to me.

  I choke down the word trying to burst free from my tight lips. The same word she’d spoken: nothing. You’ll lose her. She would shut down, possibly for good. I don’t know much, but I’m damned sure I don’t want that.

  “I told you what I want from you. I want you to be honest. To be yourself. In turn, I’ll do the same.” There. That’s as close to true confessions as I could come.

  She says nothing. In the candlelight, her eyes shimmer. She gives off heat that assaults my senses. Her scent’s a living thing. Shifting in an attempt to hide my growing erection, I look down and get sucked into the deep pools of her eyes. I try to gather up my roiling emotions and shove them in a deep, dark cave. It doesn’t work. Those eyes undo me.

  “I like you.” My voice is so low, I can barely hear myself. “Maybe too much. I don’t know how I feel. That’s the truth.”

  She doesn’t blink. I hold my breath for what seems half my lifetime. Then, she grins.

  “Okay.” She steps away and waves her arms around the room. “Now I’ve got to find some bedding.”

  “I’m being an ass. I’ll sleep on the couch. I’ve got work to do anyway.” I can’t help but feel kind of puffed up about the way she looks all relieved and happy. I don’t want to think about why I feel that way.

  I wake with a start and look around. I’m alone. Vague images from a nightmare involving whips and torture are already receding into oblivion. The adrenaline rush and cold sweat are slow to follow. I have no idea what time it is; it could be high noon the next day. I check my watch. One o’clock in the morning. I have an hour to kill before hooking up with Joker and Treadmill.

  I wander down the hall toward the bedroom to check on Rayne. I stand at the end of the bed and watch her in the dim candlelight. She breathes evenly, sleeping peacefully. At least one of us can.

  I go back to my den, as I like to think of it, and sit on the recliner loveseat, flipping aimlessly through channels, volume turned low. I land on one of the late night smut shows and settle in to amuse myself. My hand became my favorite sexual companion After Savannah. I massage my dick as I watch a big-titted blonde go down on some guy while another fucks her in the ass. Good stimulation if you focus on the body parts and not the whole person. Except that all I can think about is what Rayne’s mouth would look like wrapped around my cock. My lids drift shut as I picture how her ass would bounce if I fucked her from behind. How I’d make her scream and come. It’s been so long since a woman, any woman, has touched emotions I have long since locked away … and it scares me.