Chapter 1
Rain
The voices woke me up. I’d barely managed to close my eyes and let my brain rest for at least a few minutes, but nope. Of course not. Who did Bob drag in this time?
“It’s time to pay your debt,” a low male voice said.
Still pretending to be asleep, I listened.
“Come on, Drake, you know I don’t have the money. You saw I was high as hell and not thinking straight. Why did you let me join the game?”
Bob, as always, loved walking the razor’s edge. A familiar click of a safety being switched off cut through the room, and then came silence. The kind of thick, electric silence you can feel even from the other side of the room. I sure did.
“Booob,” the man drawled with forced cheerfulness. Honestly, he had every right to joke, especially while holding a gun. “You know that’s not how it works. You joined the game willingly, with witnesses. Thirty-five grand was on the table, and I won. And you…” he paused, and I felt his gaze slide onto my back, “...lost.”
“Yeah, but—” “Who’s that?” a rough voice cut him off.
I tensed, holding my breath. There was no one else here except me.
“Rain,” Bob answered reluctantly. I guess he didn’t want me dragged into this. But unfortunately, the guy with the gun had his own opinion on the matter.
“Rain?” he scoffed. “Like the drops from the sky?”
After a short pause came the sentence that made my heart slam against my ribs.
“Give her to me. As payment.”
“What? Are you kidding?” Bob protested.
I was still hoping he’d think of some way to buy himself out, so I stayed silent. But deep down, I knew I’d have to defend myself. Like always.
“I’m not kidding. I’m not even into brunettes, but… think about it, Big Bob. Thirty-five thousand dollars. I forget the debt, and you get to start over.”
“Why do you need her? What are you going to do with her?”
Bob was still pretending to resist, but I could already hear the deal glittering in his greedy little soul. Pathetic bastard.
“I don’t know, maybe sell her into slavery in Mexico or Chile. Maybe just have some fun, then shoot her and bury her somewhere in the woods. Why the hell do you care? You’ll get to live a quiet, peaceful life. So? What’s your answer?”
Yeah, this was definitely one of the harshest wake-ups of my life. It even beat the night I woke to fire and my parents screaming.
“But that’s ridiculous. You haven’t even seen her—”
“Ugly?”
“No, Rain is gorgeous,” that idiot declared proudly.
I wanted to punch Bob in the face. He was complimenting me while trying to sell me to cover his debt.
“Then it’s fair,” the stranger said coolly.
“…Fine. I don’t want to see her again.
“You won’t.”
Well, that’s it. I clearly had nothing more to do here. Without even glancing at them, I shot up from the bed and bolted for the window. In summer, I always kept it open. Ever since that damn fire, I’ve had a thing about closed spaces. It wasn’t a high jump from the first floor, but I still ended up scraping my knees. Whatever.
I instantly darted left and ran into the yard. Behind the rusty fence, endless rows of storage units stretched into the distance. I knew this place like the back of my hand. I’d spent my entire childhood climbing around here with the neighbour boys. We often had to run from packs of wild dogs, so I learned every escape route perfectly.
The man was chasing me. He didn’t shout, didn’t call out, didn’t try to shoot. Just followed—quiet, steady, like a predator hunting its prey.
Before he could catch up, I slipped through a narrow gap in the wire fence and scraped my legs again. Considering I was wearing only a tank top and underwear, it wasn’t exactly a surprise. But there was no way that stalker would squeeze through. He’d have to climb over.
I jumped onto a unit’s roof and took off barefoot across the metal. On summer days, it gets so hot you can’t step on it, but right now it was early morning. Though after a sleepless night, exhaustion was already catching up with me.
I glanced back for just a second, and saw the predator closing in. Adrenaline surged, fueling my thrill.
You won’t catch me, bastard.
Turning left, I jumped down, knowing exactly where the trash bins were. What I didn’t account for was the pack of stray dogs that usually roamed this area. They’d gone so wild they attacked anything that moved. Spotting me from afar, they instantly bared their teeth and charged.
The only way to survive was to get back on the roofs.
Without looking back, I dashed to the opposite side where another row of units stood and climbed up using the protruding lock of the metal shutter. There were three locks here, which helped me get up fast enough. The damn dogs, the true owners of this place, knew the route too. They ran farther, scrambled up the bins, and chased me across the roofs.
My strength was fading. The wild dogs were gaining on me. But before I had to jump again, a gunshot cracked through the air, forcing me to duck. One shot. Then another. And another. The echoes rolled over the storage lot, along with the whining of dying animals.
“Stop,” my pursuer finally shouted. I paused for a split second, inhaled, and ran again. A fork was just ahead. If I could only make it…
Behind me came a curse, but no more shots. He didn’t want to kill me.
I almost reached the spot where I could jump down and disappear, but something yanked me back with brutal force. I rolled, landing face down, and instantly felt a heavy body on top of me. He moved with a quiet, dangerous grace.
The man grabbed my wrist, flipped me onto my back with one swift motion, and settled between my spread legs. For a whole second, I froze, staring at his face.
Brutally handsome. That was exactly what I thought.
A dark-haired man with deep brown eyes and predatory features looked down at me with unapologetic dominance.
“Got you,” he said.
At that moment, a fat raindrop hit my cheek. Then another. And another. Like some kind of sign from above, a sudden downpour crashed over us.
The spell of his hypnotic gaze shattered, and I fought against his grip.
Drake, that’s what Bob called him, pinned my hands above my head as he leaned closer. The rain didn’t faze him; his focus stayed fixed on me.
“You’re not getting me,” I hissed, backing the words with a defiant stare. I jerked hard, trying to push him away with my legs.
Drake reached for his belt, pulled out a folding knife, and pressed the blade to my throat. I froze. I had to. The bastard liked it, he enjoyed how helpless I was.
“Shhh,” he hissed, flashing a predator’s smile. “You’re going to be a good girl and come with me.”
Lowering the knife, he dragged the cold metal over my soaked shirt, then down to my hips. Whether it was the rain or the contrast in sensations, a shiver shot through me.
“I really don’t enjoy scaring you,” he whispered with that same feral smile. Liar. “But I’ll have to, since you’re so damn feisty.”
Oh, he had no idea what kind of feisty he’d run into.I was already recalling one trick I once used on drunk Bob. But this guy was faster, sharper. And that knife wasn’t something I could simply wrench out of his hand.There was only one option left—feminine cunning.
I smiled at him as if I were enjoying this mess just as much as he did. And all the while, I was thinking about how to distract him long enough to stab that knife right into his ass.
“Don’t even think about it,” he hissed. As if he were reading my mind.
His gaze lingered on my fading smile for a heartbeat, and then something wild and animalistic flickered in his eyes.He threw the knife aside—far enough that neither of us could reach it.
Drake, the arrogant bastard, ran his fingers along my exposed skin. And I, idiot that I was, caught myself staring, breath held, as fat raindrops slid down his infuriatingly handsome face. And how his full lips curled into that smug grin.
That grin, like everything about him, should’ve pissed me off. But my body, against all reason, reacted differently.I felt like prey caught in merciless claws, and the thought sent a sharp rush through me.
Not understanding my reaction, I met his eyes with a challenge, fighting the heat rising inside me. But some invisible force wouldn’t let me pull away. It felt like there was no way back, and even looking away seemed impossible.
Drake inhaled sharply, then pressed his face to my neck, drawing in my scent with a low hiss. His hands roamed my thighs, bold and uninvited. This guy wasn’t even pretending to ask for permission. Whether it was the chilly rain or a sudden surge of clarity, my senses snapped back. I jerked, making it obvious I wasn’t agreeing to any of this insanity.
You were just sold off to pay someone’s debt. Run, or become his prey.
He kept my wrists pinned above my head with one hand, while the other held me down and shamelessly stroked me. Honestly, he was like an immovable mountain, yet somehow managed not to hurt me.
“Fine, I give up! I’ll go with you willingly!” I blurted it out before I even had time to think. Just needed him to get off me! Then the plan was simple—in my head, I was the heroine of some badass action movie: jump up, grab the knife, fling it at the guy, run. And get away. But in reality…
He snorted, clearly not believing me, and let that insolent hand drift down to my thighs, stopping dangerously close to the part of my body you absolutely do not touch without permission. His fingertips were practically brushing it. I wasn’t supposed to like that. Otherwise, what kind of pervert would that make me? What made it even worse was that he was ridiculously handsome, which absolutely shouldn’t have mattered right now. And definitely not that damn smirk of his.
He climbed off me more quickly than I had time to kick myself mentally. Following my brilliant plan, I rolled over, reached the knife, and, pointing it forward, began crawling away from Drake. Moving was almost impossible, everything was too slippery. He watched me in amusement, then outright burst into crazed laughter. Taking advantage of the distraction, I scrambled to my feet and sprinted across the rooftops, trying not to fall. I heard nothing but my pounding heart and ragged breathing. Adrenaline surged back, along with the sense of imminent danger.
One glance over my shoulder was enough to see he wasn’t behind me. Fear coiled around my mind, choking the air out of my lungs. A menacing growl sounded from below, and a second later, the bastard literally launched himself onto the roof, cutting off my path. I squealed and fell onto the hard surface, locked in a death grip. But I still slashed his arm with the blade. Blood!
Great. Now he was going to kill me right here.
“You’re too predictable,” Drake said casually, as if nothing had happened. He was insane. Then he folded the knife and slipped it into the chest pocket of his leather jacket.
He yanked me up and dragged me toward the house. No matter how hard I fought or tried to break free, it was pointless.
I knew no help was coming. No one was around anyway, except for traitorous Bob, who didn’t even bother looking out the window as a maniac hauled me past his shabby hut. When I saw the black Jeep by the gate, I struggled even harder. I even tried a move I’d once learned, aiming to nail Drake right between the legs, but again, I wasn’t fast enough. His reflexes were ridiculous. Dodging sharply, he bent down and slung me over his shoulder. Then he smacked my ass, loud and sharp, and carried me toward the car. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he dumped me into the passenger seat, started the engine, and sped off. I attempted to jump out while we were moving, but he had locked the doors and windows.
I had no escape left. The bastard was driving me God-knows-where, and all I could do was pray.
“What are you going to do to me?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly. “Where are we going? Drake? You are Drake, right? For fuck’s sake, answer me! Don’t stay silent!”
My panic and my yelling clearly amused him.
He braked hard and shot me an appraising look, lingering far too long on my soaked tank top.
“I thought you’d be less trouble.”
“Are you insane?” I squeaked, breathless with indignation. “You kidnapped me! And you’re taking me who-knows-where for who-knows-what. I’ve never seen you before, and you dare call me the trouble? Psycho!”
He suddenly leaned toward me, making me yelp in fear and press back into the seat.
“We’ve met,” he said with a cocky smirk. “I’m Drake, you’re Rain. And from now on, you’re mine.”
With that, he opened the glove compartment and pulled out a black glasses case. Except there were no glasses inside, instead, he produced a thin syringe.
“Wh–what the hell is that?!”
My despair was bottomless.
“You talk too much,” he said lazily and plunged the needle into my thigh. I didn’t even register the motion, only screamed at the sharp pain as he pushed the clear liquid in all the way.
“Sleep.”
My head instantly grew heavy, my body limp. My eyes locked on his hand gripping the steering wheel and stayed there. I was sinking into darkness, slow and unwillingly, and I absolutely hated it.
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With love,
Ayla
