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Chapter Thirty-four

Rayne

If Rayne wanted an honest, genuine relationship for the first time in his life, then he had to start with the truth. Mike needed to know what he was signing up for, just as Rayne knew the kind of man Mike was. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

Attempting to go for casual, Rayne took another sip of his water, then wiped his dry lips with his napkin. He was trying to appear that he wasn’t so ashamed of the things he’d done that he wanted to hide. But he was learning in his counseling sessions that burying his past wouldn’t give him peace either.

“Well, my childhood story is not so original, I’m afraid. I was born in Manhattan, raised in Carnegie Hill by two fake, bougie-ass parents that thought appearances were everything. Especially their kids. We weren’t there to be loved… we were there for show and prestige.”

“We? You have brothers and sisters?”

“I did have two older brothers and a sister, but… we haven’t talked in years. Not since I left.”

“I’m sorry.” Mike frowned as if he couldn’t fathom having blood siblings and never speaking to them.

“Anyway, I was no longer a good show pony when I came out at seventeen.” Rayne laughed humorlessly. “Well, I didn’t so much as come out by having a sit-down with my father—more like he caught me about to go down on a bartender at one of his many fundraisers so I could get a couple bottles of Don Julio tequila for me and my friends.”

Rayne paused and thought on that memory. He supposed that was around the time when he realized his powers of persuasion.

Mike’s hard glare never left his. “They throw you out?”

“Oh no.” Rayne gasped, clutching the nonexistent pearls around his neck. “That would have been scandalous. Instead, they hashed out a plan that wouldn’t make them look bad. I turned eighteen three months later and graduated from private school. And in a dignified manner, they sat me down with scones and tea in the hearth room and explained why I had to leave. They gave me a hundred thousand dollars in cash and sternly asked me to please leave the city while they told all of their friends that I’d been accepted to some pompous business school in London.”

“Are you serious?” Mike gaped. “Didn’t people think something was up when you didn’t come home and visit on holidays and shit?”

Rayne wished that were true, but the people his parents associated with were only interested in things that served them. He wasn’t one of those things. “Once you’re out of sight, you really are out of mind in that world.”

“So what did you do?” Mike asked

“Well, I spent some of the money on tuition to a really good trade school, knowing I couldn’t afford college after being cut off. But I had to drop out. Lots of shit happened that I won’t get into right now. But needless to say, when the money ran out and I was put out of my condo, I found unique ways to get the bills paid. I was too damn smart to end up on the streets or strung out. So I used my talent”—Rayne used air quotes around the last word as he lowered his head—“and found the kind of men I could extort. Mainly family men because they had a lot more to lose.”

Mike

“You don’t have to say anything else if you don’t want to,” Mike said, “because honestly, I don’t care.”

Rayne frowned, and Mike hurried to clarify what he meant.

“Look. I hate to risk sounding like a dick, but it kinda sounds like those cheaters deserved exactly what they got and what they lost.”

Rayne looked shocked before he shook his head. “No. No, they didn’t deserve it. Neither did their kids or partners.”

“Did you put a gun to those guys’ heads and make them step out on their spouses?”

Rayne sighed. “No, but—”

“Okay then.”

“It’s not that simple, Mike.”

“But it is. Men are responsible for their own actions and the consequences of them. It’s always going to be easier to blame someone else for your fuckups.”

“Mike.” Rayne blinked, but the tears didn’t fall. He was glad because he wasn’t sure he could handle that. “I’ve already made enough excuses for what I’ve done. I had to accept responsibility for my part too. And I have now. I’ve made my peace with what I became and the changes I had to make to never be that version of myself again.”

“What do you want now?”

“What I want is to be a good man. I know what I did was wrong.” Rayne’s chest inflated with frustration. “What I did with the act of sex hurt me, and worst of all, it hurt a lot of other people. And I was obsessed with this behavior, despite the consequences.”

“And is that why you’re considered a sex addict?” Mike questioned. “I know the scope is broad.”

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