AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I WAS DETERMINED TOfind Rayne the sexiest, classiest, dress in the city. She’d gained twenty or so pounds in six months and her eyes no longer looked sunken in. There was a healthy glow to her skin. She had hips and curves, but as she tried on dress after dress, I noticed her uncertainty as she looked at herself in the mirror. I suspected it would take years for her to be confident with how she looked.
I found a full-length silver-sequined gown that had a beautiful V-neck and low-dipped back. The silver would wash out Rayne’s features, but for my olive skin tone it was perfect.
“Going to try this on,” I said to Rayne over the dress rack as I headed into the dressing room. I hadn’t planned on buying anything, but I tried a few dresses to satisfy Rayne’s argument that if she had to try on dresses, so did I.
There was no one else in the dressing room, so I picked the last door on the left. I wiggled out of my snug jeans, yanked my long-sleeved, red shirt over my head, and stepped into the gown.
“How’s Rayne?”
I gasped, swinging around at the familiar deep voice directly behind me—in my change room. In a woman’s change room.
“Jesus, Tac.” I quickly finished pulling the dress up, but was unable to reach around and zip it, so I held the front up with one hand. “What are you doing here?” The last place I wanted Waleron was in close quarters with me. But he had no qualms about doing whatever he felt like regardless of others’ feelings. I knew that firsthand.
His ice blue eyes roamed the length of my body then back up again.
I glared. “Get out.”
He casually leaned up against the door, which was my only escape, and crossed his arms. “Kilter’s Rest ends tomorrow.” He spoke in his usual manner—calm, steady, and with as much emotion as a bloody lamppost. But what pissed me off was that every time he was near, my stomach whooshed and my knees weakened. “So, I’ll ask again, how is Rayne?”
No matter what he did or said, that feeling was always there. “She’s better. Gained weight. More confident. But, Tac, she doesn’t want anything to do with the Scars.”
“She may not have a choice. Word is a Grit from the compound is roaming the streets watching Rayne. He has yet to kill any humans, but we need to deal with him before he makes a move on her. I suspect it’s the same man you encountered at the Talde house months ago.”
“If I had to guess, yeah, it would be him.”
Waleron protected the Scars as if we were his lifeline. Actually, we were his lifeline. Screw with him and he’d retaliate, but he’d also sacrifice everything to save your ass. “She’s under our protection now. That means a Grit does not get near her.”
“I don’t think he wants to harm her,” I said, but it didn’t make sense. For years, the Grit had watched Rayne being used by her husband. Why hadn’t he done anything to stop it?
“Still, he must be dealt with. I’m uncertain whether he’s the one who is causing the unrest in the city, but I sense something and we need to find out what it is,” Waleron said.
And that could be why Liam had asked me to stay away from his penthouse for the past three nights. “Shit,” I muttered. The unrest was Liam. I wanted to tell Waleron about Abby, but he’d be obligated to tell the Wraiths and Trinity. That witch-bitch would raise hell.
“I called in Tye. Damien isn’t answering his phone or emails.” Oh shit. “We need to learn more about this Grit and the compound.”
“So you want to question Rayne?”
Waleron nodded. “We also have the issue of Kilter,” Waleron said. “He’ll be angry when he wakes from Rest.” Angry was an understatement. He’d be a volatile fireball who was going to cause serious damage. The question was to who. “And he’ll contact Rayne.”
I toyed with the sequins on the curved neckline of the dress. “She hasn’t mentioned him, but I don’t know. There was something between them.” I noticed Waleron’s eyes on my fingers as I fiddled with the dress and I quickly stopped.
His eyes met mine. “Rayne has become his way of redeeming his past. But he will fail.”
I wanted to retort ‘at least he is trying to redeem his past’—I didn’t. Instead, I turned and reached for my clothes piled on the bench. “We can question Rayne in a couple days, after the gala. Let her have one night of fun before we blow up her world again.” I held my clothes to my chest. “Now, can you get out?”
“Maitagarri,” he said in that low, husky voice.
I was about to fling my jeans at his head when Rayne said, “Delara. How’s the dress?”
“Shit,” I whispered, scowling at Waleron who didn’t seem the least bit concerned that he was in a woman’s change stall with me. “She’s coming, damn it. Go. Trace out of here.”
There was a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. “I think it’s time she met me.”
“What?” My eyes widened and I made a grab for his arm as he slid the latch and opened the door.
I sat on the old plaid lounge chair in the living room, legs parted, elbows resting on my thighs, hands holding my head as her haunting screams echoed over and over again. The chains… Jesus. I had no choice. But seeing her strain against them, her delicate wrists raw and bleeding—fuck. It ruined me.
