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Rayne looked him in his eyes, his voice confident when he answered, “Of course not.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
Rayne exhaled. “I don’t want to go back to jail. And I don’t want any of your guys to get in trouble because of my bullshit.” Rayne drove his trembling hand through his hair. “All I do is fuck up men’s lives. Good men.”
“What you just went through was a lot.” Mike touched Rayne’s hand, and he was glad that he didn’t flinch away from his touch as he wove their fingers together. “And if you’re not used to assholes getting what they deserve, then it’s understandable for you to be shaken up. But trust me. You don’t have to worry about getting me in trouble or my crew. We know what we’re doing.”
Rayne blinked moisture from his eyes. “Do you guys do that a lot?”
“No,” Mike told him honestly. “Only when we have to, and only for our family.”
Rayne’s chest swelled before he nodded once. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, and Mike allowed him those couple of minutes to compose himself. Rayne almost jumped out of the truck when a set of headlights turned into the driveway and pulled up beside them.
Mike held the back of Rayne’s neck. “It’s just Manny in Trent’s truck. Trust me. It’s going to be okay, and no one is going to jail. Not you, me, or any of the boys.”
“My uncle doesn’t know how to let things go, and that was one helluva an assault. How do you know he won’t—”
Mike touched his fingertips to those trembling lips, the protest dying, unspoken. He didn’t try to convince Rayne anymore; he just stared into his eyes until he seemed to understand.
“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.”
