The car idles in the parking lot of Dee’s General Store, which, according to the sign, is home of the world’s best butter tart. They aren’t quite as good as my mother’s, but they run a close second. I originally planned on driving straight to the Masquerade, but I need to hear the rest of what Rayne has to say while she’s talking. I need to know more about this little dragon I’d rescued, and Dee’s is as good a place as any. Kat said the tapes wouldn’t be ready for a couple of hours. Take the time.

Rayne’s last few words are barely audible. “I just wanted everything to be all right. I promised. I wimped out.” She sits with her head bowed under the weight of her shame. I have no idea what to say in response to this kind of pain. It ripples off her in waves, but unlike her bruises, the source is rooted deep within her psyche. I give her hand a gentle squeeze.

“Did you ever talk to anyone else about it?” I’m horrified that everyone disregarded her pleas. The relatives are obviously trash, but what about her teachers or doctors? For the first time in three years, a cacophony of emotions roils around in my head, emotions I’ve worked hard to defeat. Every instinct in me runs from attachment of any kind. I will not allow the horrendous pain of loss to penetrate my world again. Losing Savannah was enough for several lifetimes. I won’t let her go.

Then something within her changes. As if she boots any sense of martyrdom into oblivion. Rayne’s eyes shine with strength and light, hard like magnesium alloy as she gives me the once-over. I can almost read her thoughts, and she’s fully within her rights if she thinks I’m a complete idiot. I use my left hand to turn the car off, keeping my right firmly wrapped around hers.

“Do you mean did I ask one of my teachers or the school nurse? Well, let me tell you what happened when I went to a clinic for help.” Her voice drips with bitterness. “A guy who raped me when I was sixteen cut my vagina. The next day it was still bleeding, so I hitchhiked to the hospital in a nearby town.”

She heaves a huge sigh and stares out the window as if the memory drags her to the bottom of an abyss. Her right hand trembles in her lap until she pulls it into a tight fist.

“Didn’t you have a GP?”

“What the hell is a GP?” She sounds annoyed, but I recognize it for the cover it is.

“A general practitioner. Your family doctor.”

“Oh yeah, we had one all right. He would have run right to ES, and I already knew what ES would say. And I was right.”

“And what did ES have to say?” I’m building up a serious case of intense dislike for her stepfather.

“He said I must have been asking for it. Kevin, that’s the name of the guy, came around the following afternoon looking for his wallet. ES invited him in then made me go for a ride with him. The bastard not only told me that I asked for it, he told me that’s what women are good for.” Her husky voice is so quiet I can barely hear her.

“What did the nurse say?”

“When I told her what happened, she huffed and said I must have asked for it. I told her I was afraid he might have given me a disease. She told me if I didn’t have one now, I’d probably have one soon. ‘That’s what happens to girls like you,’ she said.”

Right about then, I need my speed bag. When someone really bothers me, I’ll go a round or two with it while imagining it’s their head. I’d like to go a round or two with that nurse’s head and another few rounds with Viper front and center. I know I shouldn’t ask, but I need to know just how far people will go to ignore what stands squarely in front of them screaming through a megaphone.

“Did you go to the police?”

“Police.” She barks out a nasty-sounding laugh. “They’re a fucking useless waste of time. It’s the twenty-first century, and their first question was, ‘What were you wearing?’ As for ES, the man’s like Teflon. Last year, he was charged with contributing to juvenile delinquency, but they mysteriously dropped the charges just before the trial. It’s just as well because he threatened me if I said anything about what went on at our parties.”

I’m not sure I’m ready to hear about any parties.

“You’ve been through a lot.” I can’t help but admire her strength. If the situation had been reversed, I wouldn’t have survived.

“This shit goes on all the time, Jaden. Don’t you get it? It’s just the everyday ordinary abuse that happens behind your neighbors’ closed doors.” She sounds more resigned than bitter. And that’s just sad. In that split second, I vow to myself to make sure Rayne never has to suffer fear or abuse again. Savannah would have wanted that.

The last few words are barely audible. Rayne pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose using her index finger, her characteristic gesture. When her gaze follows her hand to her lap, a large fist grabs my heart and squeezes hard. That isn’t even a tenth of what she must feel like right now, dredging up the past. Twisting my body to face her, I brush the side of her face, gently tracing the outline of her cheek. The swelling has gone down significantly, showing her high cheekbones, cute-as-a-button nose, and full lips.

“That’s enough for today. I want to show you something.” I give her hand another squeeze, resisting the urge to kiss those full lips just begging me to suck them between my teeth. I get out of the car and walk around the front, stopping a few feet from the passenger door. I hold out my hand toward her, taking the few moments to drop my mantle of insouciance back in place. The problem is, she’s hooked me, and the barb is settling into place. In a few short days, she’s worked her way into my psyche like no one ever has. Even Savannah, and I’d been set to marry her.

The car door opens, and Rayne takes several slow, cautious steps as if she’s afraid I’ll bite. Oh, how I’d love to bite that perfect skin. To mark her. To make her body mine. Yes, I definitely have a hard-on for this young woman. I’m going to have to fuck her to get her out of my head. She ignores my outstretched hand and walks right past me into the store.

Dee’s General Store is a throwback to another era. Cement floors, rows of shelving, and the comforting smell of fresh-baked butter tarts. I follow slowly, wondering how to manage this situation with Rayne. I hesitate to leave her with Connor and Kate, total strangers to her, but she’ll be no use to me when I rescue Sasha. I toy around with the idea of having her wait in the car, then toss it. Rayne will never agree to that, and I won’t risk her safety.

Rayne smiles, and it’s as if I opened the door and the sun broke through. She’s cast off her despair to embark on an animated conversation with the cashier about the different kinds of butter tarts. The change in mood makes a remarkable change to her appearance. Enough of her face shines through the bruises to show stunning, almost exotic beauty. The black streaks in her chestnut eyes sparkle with delight. She becomes the small child in the butter tart store, eager to try every delicious delight. She’ll be just as enthusiastic in bed. That thought stubbornly refuses to go back where it belongs.

She clasps her hands chest high. “Can we get some, please? I’ll pay you back.”

“Get as many as you like. Sasha loves them, too.”

She frowns at the mention of Sasha. “I’ll be quick, promise.” She turns to the cashier and starts an animated debate about whether peanut butter or peanut butter chocolate chip would be the better choice.

A tiny gasp escapes as she bends to examine the tarts in the display. My cock rockets to rock hard. The sound makes me want to hear her moan as I drive inside her. I wrap my hands around the back of my neck, wanting to howl in frustration. I’m frantic about Sasha, yet I can’t get this woman out of my head.

If they hurt her . . .

Another thought I push out of my head. I focus on Rayne, how her body moves like that of a dancer when she relaxes. How she seems to have boundless reservoirs of energy despite her injuries. How she doesn’t seem to let those injuries get in her way. Despite the frequent grimaces, she soldiers on. I should find her energy annoying—God knows I’m a taciturn guy—but she sends her energy through me like Taser rays.

Rayne chatters about everything and nothing until we reach Cambridge. She loves the butter tarts and prattles on about them.

”My mom used to make them, and she let me drop the raisins in each tart shell.” At least she has one happy childhood memory.

She loves the car and grills me on specs. By the time I pull into a Tim Hortons parking lot, I need a break. I’ve spent most of the last three years by myself or with Sasha, who is definitely not a chatterbox. Rayne’s enthusiasm adds just a bit more noise interference than I’m used to.

“Want anything?”

“I’ll come in with you.”

Rayne strikes up a conversation almost instantly with some random stranger in line. In some ways she’s the most unfriendly person I’ve ever met, then she turns into a social butterfly. She’s an enigma and a woman of extremes with few in-betweens.

I check my cell and open an urgent text from Treadmill.

My heart jumps into a gallop. Although Treadmill and Joker are the best hunters I know, this is still much faster than I anticipated.

Shit! I check the emailed coordinates confirming my worst fear. Viper is using The Manor as his hidey-hole. There was a time when The Manor was an elite and private adult entertainment club. Now, it was just a seedy sex club that supplied creatures like Viper with everything he needed to make Sasha suffer. In the soundproofed basement rooms, no one would hear her scream. He’ll kill her trying to break her. Just like he’ll do to Rayne. I try to wall off the panic surging through me.

Someone pokes my arm, and I look up, startled. Rayne gives me an unidentifiable look.

“What do you want? The guy’s waiting for your order.”

“A small double-double and a honey dip.”

“Make that two honey dips.” She looks at me pointedly before smiling back at the cashier. “Thank you so much. How kind.”

“Come on. Let’s go.” I stride out of the coffee shop, keying a text to Connor. Rayne runs along, holding a tray out in front of her.

“Would you slow down? I’m spilling this. For God’s sake, what the hell is the goddamned rush?”

“Change in plans. We found Sasha.” I remote open the Chiron and slide onto the black leather seat.

I throw the cell in the cup holder, slam the car in gear, and peel out of the drive.

“Oh good. Where? Is Summer with her?”

“Kincardine.”

“Where in Kincardine?”

I keep my eyes trained on the road. “You know Kincardine?”

“Sure do. I love Lake Huron. Is she okay?”

My little dragon is full of surprises.

“Don’t know yet. They’ve got her in Inverhuron.”

Rayne leans back and sighs. “I love Inverhuron. Spent one of the best summers of my life there. Just me, my mom, and Summer.”

She launches into this story about how they’d rented a small cottage there—somewhere near The Manor sounds like. She reminisces about being in the middle of a campground with lots of kids to play with. “Mom was so relaxed. She even laughed sometimes. Apparently, the evil stepfather had other plans back in the city.” Eventually, she seems to run out of steam just coming up with stuff to say.

I can’t tell her just how much she’s drawn me into her story. I’m grateful for the short break from fear. I need to shore up my strength for what lies ahead, and she’s given me that gift.

She sighs and rolls her eyes.

Now there’s no distraction, and I fasten my mind on the shadowy future awaiting me at The Manor. I steel myself and slide into that zone—the place where nothing matters but bringing pain to those who brought pain to my friends.