Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“Come on, let’s get your stuff inside.” Mike came around and opened Rayne’s door for him and helped him out onto unstable legs.
“I hate to mess up Trent and Wood’s night,” Rayne said as he took his key out and put it in the lock, “but I really don’t wanna go to Chelsea’s anymore, and I’m not in the mood for a movie. I just wanna shower and go to bed and pray I don’t have fucking nightmares.”
Mike wanted to take it all away for Rayne, but he could only do so much. Going back and finishing off that uncle would make him feel a lot better, but he knew that wasn’t what Rayne wanted. He understood the gentle man not wanting blood on his hands to add to everything else.
Mike kept his palm in the center of Rayne’s back as he opened the door and let them inside. Mike heard the grunting and furniture scraping the floor before Rayne, and unfortunately, he’d switched on the lights over the door before Mike could stop him.
“Oh god.” Rayne spun around and slammed himself into Mike’s chest as if what he’d just seen hit him like a slap to the face.
“For fuck’s sake,” Mike growled, holding Rayne tight.
“Oh my god, I’m so, so sorry, Trent.” Rayne’s voice was muffled against Mike’s armpit, but he kept repeating over and over. “I’m so damn sorry.”
“What the hell are y’all doing here?” Trent barked as he tried to get his sweaty, naked ass off the dining room table but ended up stumbling into Wood, who was unsuccessfully trying to cover his own hard dick.
“Why the fuck are y’all on the table?” Mike yelled. “That’s disgusting… it’s where you eat! Have some goddamn class, Trent.”
“Mike.” Wood groaned. “We weren’t… we didn’t mean to—”
“Damnit! Just shut up and go cover yourselves.”
Wood and Trent ran down the hall like two juveniles caught after lights-out.
Rayne knocked his fist against his forehead. “Trent’s gonna hate me for sure now. Me and my fucking drama.”
“Go get your stuff. You’re coming to live with me,” Mike ordered.
Rayne eased back, squinting at Mike’s face, at the deep frown pinching between his brows.
Hell. Mike didn’t mean for that to sound like a command.
“Okay,” Rayne whispered, then took off around the corner and into his bedroom.
When the room was clear, Mike bowed forward and took some long, slow breaths. What are you doing? What are you doing? Shit! Ever since Rayne had called him, sounding afraid and needing his help, Mike had been operating on emotion and pure adrenaline. Now he was coming down, and the reality of what’d just happened knocked against his chest.
He’d been about to kill again. For Rayne.
“Dad.” Mike stood to his full height before his son came around the corner. “What the hell is going on? Why is Rayne packing? Look, I’m not that mad, all right? Let’s everybody just chill.”
“Before you put your damn foot in your mouth, Rayne had no intention of fuckin’ up your evening, but he was held somewhere against his will tonight.”
Trent was still tying the drawstring on his shorts when Wood rushed into the living room, his eyes wide. “Say what?”
“Yeah. Some bastard—I think it’s his uncle—had him padlocked in a room and wouldn’t let him out unless… .” Mike closed his eyes and exhaled the wrath propelling him to go finish the job.
“Fuck. Is he okay?” Trent asked.
“No,” Mike answered. “But he will be.”
“So what happened?”
Mike turned toward Wood, his cheeks still flushed red and his wild gray-and-black hair sticking up all over his head. “Well, he called you, Wood, but you were too busy screwing my son on the kitchen table to answer the phone.”
“Jesus, Mike, give us a break,” Trent groaned as he dropped down on the couch and tucked his face in his hands. “It’s our anniversary.”
“You guys aren’t married.”
Trent looked sheepish. “We’ve been dating six months, Dad.”
Mike gritted his teeth. “Six months! What are y’all in fuckin’ middle school? You still could’ve answered the goddamn phone.”
Trent scowled. “Just tell us what happened.”
“He called me. So the fellas and I went and got him.”
Trent’s eyes opened wide as he leapt up off the couch. “Mike.” He looked afraid to ask his next question. “And the uncle… ?”
Mike was silent a long moment before he eventually answered. “He’s alive.”
Trent exhaled as if he’d been holding his breath for too long while Wood stared at him in horror.
“If you don’t like the way I handle Rayne’s problems”—Mike glared at Wood—“then next time… if there even is a next time… answer your damn phone.”
“I’m gonna go talk to Rayne.” Wood sighed. “Mike, look. I’m sorry, all right? But there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Rayne. I love him like a little brother, and I’m sorry if I—”
“Wood.” Mike pinched the bridge of his nose, his energy still too high to deal with weak-ass excuses. “If you don’t shut up, I’m gonna punch you in the damn temple because I’d rather you be unconscious than have to keep listening to you speak right now.”