Page 53 of Rayne

Jett walks over to me, grabbing my hand. "I'll show you," he answers bluntly, pulling me through a door on the other side of the room.

We walk through the house, first through the large modern kitchen, then another living area—finally to a home cinema complete with a giant screen and leather recliners. Heading upstairs, I frown at the light gray carpet, worried that I'm trudging dirt and mud onto it, but Jett doesn't seem fazed.

At the top of the staircase, I find myself in another open plan living space. More large windows line the room, and there's a pool table in the corner. Outside, there's a balcony to view the mountains, the large area complete with a cooking area and spacious jacuzzi.

We round the corner to head toward the front of the house and I peer through open doors, spotting bedrooms. We reach the end of the corridor, another window panel looking out onto the street and two bedrooms either side of the hallway. They share a joint balcony, and when I gaze into the one on the right, I find Hawk, standing by a large king sized bed, removing his hoodie.

Looking up, he watches me closely, face still hard. It's unsettling—because despite what happened in the elevator, I'm still mad at him for what he did. Worst still, he has the nerve to be mad at me. I haven't done anything wrong, and I want an explanation.

"Are you ready to talk yet?" I ask him sternly, crossing my arms.

I make no effort to enter the room, and he doesn't walk over to me either. Instead, he pulls off his shirt, his muscles flexing as he discards the shirt into a laundry basket in the corner of the room.

"What are we talking about?" he questions harshly.

"Why are you such an asshole?" I shoot back, and it's a general question, covering all areas.

Hawk pauses, eyes narrowing at me. "Want to repeat that?"

"Sure," I sneer. "Why are you an asshole?"

Jett lets out an exasperated sigh behind me, a warning, but I can handle him. Hawk stalks over to me, boxing me in as his hand leans against the frame next to my head.

His eyes scan my face, but I don't break our connection. I wait, raising an eyebrow at him.

"You should be thanking me, Rayne."

Chapter 18

I gawk at him, caught off-guard. "Are you being serious? You just embarrassed me in front of a colleague. Worst still, you threatened him. I'm not even going to get into the logistics of how you got into the building, since we all know that breaking and entering doesn't deter either of you."

Hawk huffs with a laugh. "That guy," he says, referring to Elijah. "Is bad news. Why would you willingly stay behind in an office, alone, drinking with someone you don't know?"

My arms shoot up in exasperation. "He's a colleague, Hawk. I'm safer with him than I am with you. And for your information, he's a nice guy. You have no right interfering in my life."

"We already told you; no one is going to touch you unless it's us. I meant what I said, Tempest. I'll hurt him. Don't make the mistake of thinking I won't."

"You wouldn't dare," I hiss back. "You don't have a say in who I fuck."

Hawk smirks. "I'm probably dripping down your leg as we speak. Do you really think there's a line I wouldn't cross? In your head, we're these big bad guys. You're a smart girl, so you're probably correct."

"You are bad guys," I tell him. "You can be charming and sweet to everyone, and donate money to charity—but at the end of the day, you're not good people."

He shrugs. "So what? The world would be boring if everyone was the same."

"You could just be nice. Be one of the good ones."

"You already have us all figured out. No point in changing," he says sarcastically. "But at least we own up to it. Some people don't."

I raise an eyebrow. "Are you saying Elijah isn't one of the good ones? He literally saves lives."

Hawk laughs. "An attorney saving lives? Please. It's an act, Rayne. You're so blinded by the world that you see what you want to see. Maybe stop and consider the possibility that people aren't always what they seem."

"I don't understand you," I mumble. "You hurt me, you lead me on and act nice for five seconds, then turn again. It's giving me emotional whiplash. Even in some fucked alternate universe if we were together, it would never work. But now you're determined to stop me from actually having a life?"

"I'm trying to get you to live your damn life," he snaps. "And that doesn't include people like Elijah."

Suddenly, he feels too close to me. The longer he stands there, it's taking away my ability to breathe. "I'm not your puppet," I murmur quietly. "Even if you're trying to do some fucked-up version of a good deed, I control my life. Not you. And I'm happy—so you should support me, as my brother, and accept that."

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