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“Rayne!” he hollered.
“Mike. I’m in here. Last room on the left.” Rayne’s small voice locked behind that door had Mike seeing red as unchecked rage crept through him slowly.
Mike yanked at the padlock, but when it wouldn’t budge, he was about to kick the door down until Score appeared beside him with his pipe. One brutal swipe and the lock and doorknob were gone. Mike pushed the door open, and Rayne flew into his arms, burying his beautiful face in his throat.
“Thank you,” he breathed, his voice shaky and his hands trembling against Mike’s chest. “He wouldn’t let me out unless I…” Rayne almost gagged.
“That motherfucker,” Score grumbled and went back toward the living room, where Rayne’s uncle was still groveling for them not to hurt him.
Mike cupped Rayne’s cheeks and tilted his face up to his. “Are you all right? Did he touch you?”
“No. Not like… that. He just shoved me around,” Rayne confessed. “Please just get me out of here. My stuff is already in Trent’s truck. I just wanna go home and never see him again.”
A dark haze washed over Mike as the blood in his body turned to boiling oil. “Come on.” He took Rayne by the hand and led him to the front of the house.
It was time Rayne met the real him.
