Rivals 🌈 ✔

33 - If That Ain't Love

Raine tensed at the click of a gun close to his head. Immediately he looked over his shoulder. It was Martinez, with his 68 years he was the oldest Mayan. A quiet man who kept to himself, who didn't speak up often and who, usually, didn't wave with guns. As far as Raine knew, he always stayed out of conflicts. Not because he was afraid to share his opinion, but because he believed every discussion to be a waste of time. He'd seen it all. It was visible on his weathered face, the circles under his eyes. Raine knew that his son had been murdered a few years ago, but the involvement of the Sons was new to him.

His heart leapt in his chest, his palm felt sticky against Juice's. His boyfriend looked at him from his periphery, as if he wanted to read in Raine's eyes in how much danger he was. 

Raine didn't know. This man was erratic. When it came to the death of a child, everyone was erratic. 

"Calm down, Martinez," Marcus spoke, his voice sounding both respectful and compelling. "Our priority is to find Raine's old man. Unless you know a better way to find him, we're going to that meeting with the Sons now. Time is precious."

"I demand justice," Martinez growled. "I'll never get a chance like this again."

"You're neither getting this chance now!" Raine snapped. "Take your fucking gun off my boyfriend's head. If anyone else lays a finger on him I swear I will kill you!"

It was stupid. Of course it was stupid. He couldn't exactly attack ten men. But the emotions were raging through his body — he just wanted them to leave Juice alone, instead of using him as an outlet for their anger or a way to repay old grudges. 

"Shut your mouth, Raine," Marcus cut him off. 

Angrily, Raine clenched his jaw. 

Marcus aimed his glance at Martinez. "Lower the gun, Martinez. I will not say it again."

Suddenly, the man lashed out, hitting the back of Juice's head with the gun. The man already stood so unstable that his legs collapsed immediately. Quickly Raine caught him. Anger flamed across his jaws as he heard some of his brothers laugh and call him a pussy. Fucking assholes. He was sure they all would have whined  if they'd been manhandled with a baseball bat themselves. 

Martinez grumbled, calling him a traitor before rushing past him. He slammed his shoulder against Raine's with such a force that Raine almost lost his balance. 

Raine wrapped one arm around Juice's waist. The man was leaning into him, he could feel his battle against the pain. He however didn't dare to show him the affection he deserved, afraid he would only add fuel to the fire. 

"Come on, let's go outside," he said quietly. "We'll wait there until they're ready to leave."

Juice said nothing. He stared at the floor. 

Rained helped his boyfriend through the crowd until they reached the door. Outside, he helped him in a bucket seat. Six of them were placed around a table on which were two full ashtrays. Once Juice was sitting, Raine examined his head, looking for the spot where Martinez hit him. He found a graze, the skin around it was red. He would have a huge bump on his head, later today. 

Leaning over Juice, he kissed the tattoo on the right side of his head before sitting next to him. There was an awkward silence between them. They hadn't experienced a lot of them and Raine didn't really know what to say. 

"They're never going to accept us, do they?" Juice's voice sounded hoarse. 

"No, I guess not," he murmured. They had known it from the start, but deep down, he had hoped for some understanding.