"We land in ten minutes, Sir, and a car will be waiting."

"Thank you, Mr Phillips," Nathan acknowledged, as his attention fell on his brother.

"Jaxon, ten minutes."

Jaxon's brow furrowed before arching. "Ah-hu," he absently replied.

"What?" asked Nathan. Jaxon had been reading since taking off.

"You need to read this."

Nathan pinched the bridge of his nose. "I would rather have Rayne tell me what she wishes us to know." He excused Jaxon's curiosity, but it didn't ease the stain of shame he felt of doing so without Rayne's consent.

Jaxon sighed, letting his head fall back on the headrest. "I know you're upset with me. But I need to know what we're walking into. This is a family she ran away from. What would make her return?  And why now?" He placed the file down on the chair next to him. "And it's understandable she doesn't talk about it. Fuck, I want to kill the bastard for what he did to her. And her mother was equally just as bad."

Nathan turned his attention to the small airplane window. "We shall find out when we find her and bring her home." Nicole's words lay heavy on his shoulders. He didn't doubt Rayne had suffered abuse when younger, and knowing it was her brother that had inflicted said abuse made him sick to the stomach. 

Rayne had been a child. And what child could fully understand what was happening to them? And if she slept with him under the assumption she felt something other than sisterly love, it still made no difference to their relationship.

He loved Rayne, his Rayne-drop.  The past was the past. He only hoped she wouldn't let whatever was happening now impact on her present and destroy her future.

His phone buzzed, reaching inside his pocket. "I have the brother's address.  Something tells me.  Find him—find Rayne."

Jaxon nodded, curling his hand into a fist. "Agreed."

~ ~

Marcus Winters sat outside in his car looking at his home.  The conversation with his mother ticked over in his thoughts for the umpteenth time. She had told him where Rayne had been these years, how she lived with two men—slept, no, fucked two men. Brothers.

Whore... were his mother's words as she made it perfectly clear her feelings for her daughter... his sister and how he needed to see her for who she really was.  And although the idea of her with two men was sickening, he still couldn't accept his own feeling was wrong.  How could loving someone be wrong?

Rubbing his temple, the hour was getting late, and he couldn't sit here all night.  Heading inside, he found Rayne curled up on his sofa, fast asleep.

No matter what his mother had said.  His feelings didn't feel wrong.  And he wouldn't let her return those bastards.  He could provide everything she needed.  They could be as they were before she'd left him.

Carefully bending down, he scooped her up.  She was so light and fragile in his arms. 

He promised himself he wouldn't lose her again.

~ ~

Rayne awoke straightway grasping something was wrong, very wrong.  Moving her head, the pillow she rested upon smelt different.  A floral, almost sickly scent pinched her nose.

This wasn't her bedroom.  And why was her head fuzzy?  She tried to piece together events to ease her rising concern.

One... two... three... four... five... six.   She inhaled three deep breaths, focusing her mind. 

Marcus!  Yes, she remembered.   She was in her brother's home.

But hadn't she been downstairs? A vague memory of relaxing on his sofa filtered through the haze.

How had she come to be in bed?  Another recollection of someone carrying her, but she couldn't be sure. 

What was wrong with her?

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, a realization dawned. She wasn't alone.

Marcus.

Oh. My. God.

Even more worrying, the bedcovers were directly on her skin.  He had undressed her.  Muscle's tensing, she clenched her hands to fists.  Had he done something to her whilst asleep? 

Oh My God.  She bit back a whimper, shivering.

Frantically she tried to think back to before she fell asleep.  He had left to return to the hospital.  Yes, she had taken the pain medication he had left for her.  Was that the reason her head felt muggy, confused? 

What if he'd drugged her?

Her insides churned as her stomach cramped.  She felt sick... and afraid.

Rayne couldn't remain here a second longer - she had to get out.  Ignoring the ache and wooziness, she slid across the bed and pulled back the covers.  Slowly she pushed up as her feet found the solid wood floor.  Compelling herself to stand, she wobbled, forcing her hands out the side to stop from falling. An agonizing ache resonated between her temples. She forced herself to breathe slow but deeply.  

What in god's name had he done to her? One... two... three... four... five... six.   A calm mind was essential.

Breathe, just breathe.   Eyes adjusting, she skimmed her surroundings, looking for her clothes as she instinctively wrapped her arms around herself. Rocking slightly, she turned to confirm her brother had indeed been sleeping next to her. 

A wave of nausea dragged from the pit of her stomach as her hand flew over her mouth. Chills ran across her as she restrained a sob.

What should she do? Get out of this house. 

Taking small, measured steps, she made it to the door, twisting the doorknob. A crack in the door allowed a draft to brush against her cheeks. 

A hand appeared above her head, shutting the door, blocking her exit. 

Rayne hadn't even heard him move.

"Where are you going?" his voice was gravelly, deep having just been woken.

One... two... three... four... five... six. Breathe. "I need the bathroom."  One... two... three... four... five... six.  Her breathing escalated and her nails on her right hand embedded into her thigh.

Marcus stepped closer, placing a hand on either side of her hips.  "Breathe Rayne, you're going to hyperventilate if you don't calm down." He pressed a kiss to the back of her head. 

Oh. My. God.  This wasn't happening.  Closing her eyes, he shifted one hand to reach for her left hand.

"This way, come."

He led to her a different door in his bedroom, opening he flicked on a light as Raye covered her eyes with the brightness.

She pulled at her hand, and he let her go.  "I'll be right here. Shout if you need me."

A slow breath left her lungs.  Stepping inside, she closed the door, looking for a lock.

Uttering a curse... It didn't have a lock.

Turning to survey the small room.  The window was too small to climb through, and what good would it do?  She stood here in her underwear.  A glimpse of her reflection had her eyes widening.  Dark circles stood out against her pale complexion.

In the light she traced her hands across her breasts, torso, thighs and ass.  She pushed another breath from her lungs, now sure he hadn't laid his hands on her... yet.

Moving to the basin, she flicked on the faucet. Glancing down on the red gash to her wrist, she resisted the urge to re-open the wound.  

Her mind and thoughts still hazy, her options appeared limited.

Priority—clothes.  Eyes darting around, she reached for the bath towel and wrapped it securely.  This would make do until she had her own clothes.

Rayne froze, a tap on the door.  "Everything okay Sunshine?

God, she hated that name.  Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she opened the door to find him standing in his boxer shorts.  She quickly averted her eyes. "Where are my clothes, Marcus?"

"In my wardrobe.  You can have them back in the morning." He reached for her hand as she clasped her towel tightly.  He sighed. "Come back to bed?"

Was he serious?  "Marcus, I'm not sleeping in the same bed with you.  I would like to get dressed."

"Rayne, it's late." He scrubbed his hand through his dark hair, turning to walk back to his bed where he sat on the edge, watching her.

Rayne stepped into the bedroom, having some distance between them relieved the knot in her stomach. "You should not have undressed me, Marcus.  In fact, you should have left me downstairs on your sofa."  Her tone was accusing.

"I didn't touch you Rayne."

Rayne's cheeks flushed, but ice ran through her veins.  "Please, I want to get dressed Marcus... Now!"

He pushed up from the bed, stepping toward her.  Rayne jerked backwards, her shoulder catching the doorframe.  "Ouch." She rubbed her shoulder, sidestepping to press herself against the wall.

Marcus hesitated and dropped his gaze over her body. His determined strides faltered to gage her reaction.  "Do you think I would hurt you?  I would never hurt you."

"Then please let me dress, I don't feel comfortable."

"You're not comfortable with me...but you are comfortable sleeping with two men?"

Rayne's breath caught as confusion mixed with wooziness fogged her brain—how did he know?  Nicole!  "That's none of your business Marcus."

"It is now your back home... with me."

She shook her head firmly, instantly regretting the movement, placing her hand on her temple. "I'm not back, Marcus. I'm going home at first light."

"I want you to move back home, with me... here.  I can look after you now."

Why wasn't he listening?  A bitter laugh left her lips. "You're ten years too late, Marcus.  I needed my brother to look after me when I was younger. But no, you stood there and let me take all the blame for something I never wanted!"

He ignored her accusation.  "You're safer here.  What you're doing with them.  It's disgusting—wrong."

"Disgusting—wrong?"  How dare he judge her?   "Why is it disgusting, Marcus?  Nathan and Jaxon love me unconditionally and I finally feel good about myself following years of blaming myself... hating myself for what happened."

He shook his head, anger painted across his strong features.  "They're using you.  Treating you like a whore. Mother told me exactly—" He stopped shaking his head.

Rayne's gaze hardened.  Whore!   Her mother, every word, every thought... every breath from that woman was poison.  She wasn't a whore.  She loved them and they loved her.  It was beautiful what they shared.

He continued. "How can two men love one woman... together, it's immoral?" His face twisted.

Her brow pinched. "How can a brother love a sister the way you did!?" she spat out, but instantly regretted her words as he closed the small gap between them. Rayne had to tilt her head up. 

Marcus boxed her in with his arms on either side. His mouth formed a flat line as his jaw hardened. "I'm not letting you go back Rayne; in time you will see this is for the best."

Anger burned through the knot in her stomach.  She wanted to yell, scream at him, scratch his eyes out.  But that wouldn't help.  It may even make her situation worse.  Biting back her frustration, she softened her tone.  "It's not your decision, Marcus.  I love them."

"No!" He grasped her chin roughly between his fingers.  His jaw twitched as his pupils enlarged, eating away any warmth that may have been there. 

Fighting tears, she blinked them back as her heart pounded against her chest.  She shut her eyes and her voice broke. "P-please... you're hurting me, Marcus." A tear tripped past her lashes as she forced herself to look at him.

Marcus flinched, eyes widening his gaze measured hers, all arrogance disappeared.  "Don't cry, shh." His thumb swiped her tear away. "Please Rayne."

The coldness in his eyes dispersed, and Rayne for a moment saw the boy she once knew.  "Please, Marcus, let me get dressed and leave.  I don't belong here."  Her lashes lowered as she breathed through the ache expanding in her chest.

His hand moved to hold the top of her arms; his eyes dropped on her lips.  "I can't - not again.  I won't lose you." Shifting closer, he angled his head, his breath on her face.  "You're so beautiful Rayne, let me take care of you."  His voice lowered and his lips were a hair's breadth away from hers.

Twisting her face away from his, another burst of nausea careered up Rayne's throat as she brought her hands to his chest and pushed hard.

There was no budging him. He was so much bigger and stronger.  "No, no, no! Marcus."

A thud downstairs had both their heads turning toward the door.  Someone was hammering on the front door.  Whoever it was, was in no mood to wait as they hammered again, the echoing thuds vibrated through the walls of the house.

Marcus growled.  "Stay here!"  He stalked to his wardrobe and grabbed a pair of joggers. Once he'd left the room, she heard him lock the door.

He'd locked her in his room?  What in god's name was wrong with him?

Hand on her quaking chest, she pushed through the dizziness and tiptoed to the wardrobe to find her clothes, quickly slipping on her dress, looking for her shoes.  Finding her shoes, she paused, listening to raised voices.  Nathan... that was Nathan's voice. 

Was Jaxon with him?  Had they come for her?

~ ~

Nathan banged his fists on the door.  "Try round the back, Jaxon," he instructed.

A click.  The door was being unlocked as the outside porch light flicked on and an angry face appeared in the door's crack.

Nathan and Jaxon spoke at the same time.  "Where is she?"

"Get the fuck off my property.  Before I call the police."

Nathan snapped, pushing the door with such strength it forced Marcus to stumble back.  "I said get the fuck off my—"

Nathan was in his face.  "Go ahead!" he scoffed. "Call the police. Should be very interesting when we get to the part about how you kidnapped your sister."

"Nathan... Jaxon." A banging on a door upstairs.

That was Rayne's voice calling them.  Jaxon turned to Nathan.  "Rayne!" shouted Jaxon.

"Up here," she cried.

"Go find her."  Nathan returned his attention to her brother.  His anger reached critical mass.

Marcus smirked before composing a mask of indifference as he dragged his palm across his chin.  "You think I kidnapped her?" his tone condescending.

Nathan seethed, shoulders heaving, his fists now clenched at his sides.  "I will give you one chance to step out of the way.  We're taking Rayne home."

"Like fuck you are—what you and your brother have done to my sister is disgusting.  She stays here with me. You two are fucked in the head and I won't let you lay another perverted hand on her."

Nathan roared and barreled forward. 

Jaxon had Rayne in his arms as he reached the bottom of the stairs to see the clash of bodies and the smash of flesh hitting flesh and pained grunts.  He wanted to place Rayne down and hit her brother himself.  But he held onto her tightly as she pressed her face into his chest, muffling her sobs.

Although Marcus was wider than Nathan, it didn't stop him from flinging Marcus against the wall hard enough; the picture crashed to the floor, cracking the frame.  Marcus groaned, his eyes unfocused. He went down like a sack of potatoes.

Nathan kicked away some broken glass as he stood over him.  "I fucking warned you.  Now stay there.  We're taking Rayne home." He gave his cuff on his shirt an inattentive tug.

"Nathan," said Jaxon, as his brother's head whipped around.

Nathan's tempered face softened as his fists relaxed at the sight of Rayne in his arms.

"Done?" asked Jaxon, his gaze dropping to her brother.

Nathan nodded briefly.  "Take Rayne to the car."

Jaxon strode past him as Nathan stepped closer to Marcus, dropping lower, resting his elbow on his knee.  "Listen carefully, asshole."

Marcus's top lip curled as he raised his eyes to meet the strangers.  Blood coated his teeth as he turned away, dragging his hand across his mouth.  "Get the fuck out of my house," he repeated.

"You stay away from Rayne. In fact, stay away from New York." He paused, but Marcus said nothing.  Nathan continued.  "I shall only issue this warning once.  If you try to contact her...or come looking. I can promise you they will not find your body.  Do we have an understanding?" Nathan's voice was cold and absolute.

Marcus grunted. 

"I'll take that as a yes."  Nathan raised, standing tall.  Swallowing, he turned and left without closing the door. 

Through the car window, Jaxon was sitting in the back seat with Rayne nestled on his lap.  She was safe, and he would make sure she remained that way.