Reining Devotion: A Chaotic Rein novel

by Jenner, Haley

  “I’m gonna kill you,” he promises. “But before I do, I’m gonna stare into your eyes as I bury my cock inside you, knowing the last thing you felt wasn’t just physical pain, but the death of your fucking soul.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Rocco

  I run into the loft, my heart pounding like a fist against a maize bag.

  Jesse stands in my kitchen, a bag of frozen peas against his eye, dried blood decorating his face.

  An open briefcase lays on my counter, copious hundred dollar bills mocking me.

  You need to come home. The text that alerted me to the fact that something was going hideously wrong.

  I move toward my son, trying to hide my panic.

  Fuck. It doesn’t even look that bad. I’ve been bruised up much worse in my time. But he’s my boy, and no one is allowed to touch my fucking boy.

  “Explain.”

  “It was me.” Blake’s hesitant voice sounds from my living room and I glance away from Jesse’s face, staring at her tear-filled eyes in confusion.

  “What was you?”

  “This,” she whispers.

  “You hit him?”

  Jesse grunts out an unamused laugh.

  “I made a deal, Rocco,” Blake confesses. “With Sarah Rein. For you and Camryn.”

  Boom. Out here like a grenade explosion no one was ready for.

  Talk about ripping a bandaid off. No prelude. No lube.

  Just a simple, hey, guess what… I fucked you.

  My gaze turns back to the briefcase.

  “I tried to back out,” she tells me, pulling my attention once again.

  “When? Is that why you came into my life? To offer me up to Sarah on a silver platter? Was that the plan all along?” Bile rushes up my throat, wanting to escape.

  “No,” Jesse answers for her, moving away from me and toward his sister. “We never even knew we’d meet you. We came to thank Dominic for removing a threat from our lives.”

  “You were both in on this?”

  They’re expecting my anger.

  Hell, I’m fucking expecting it.

  But it doesn’t come.

  “No,” Blake declares. “This was all me. Sarah approached me. Five hundred grand is a new life for us,” she explains unnecessarily. “I was trying to give us something we never even dreamed of.”

  “I get it.” My voice is hauntingly quiet. “Five hundred grand for turning on a stranger, one you never wanted to meet.”

  They both stare at me, unsure on what to say, on what to do.

  Truth is, I don’t know what to say, I don’t know what to do.

  Massaging her hand, Blake’s eyes never leave mine. She’s scared. Hell, that’s not even the right word. She’s petrified. Of me.

  “I texted her and told her I wasn’t interested, that the deal was off.” She steps forward, thinking better of it and stepping back.

  “Is this it?” I ask, overcome with grief. “You have your cash.” I gesture to the bag. “Which means you held up your end of the bargain.” My eyes skate over my loft, searching for the bullet aimed at my heart.

  Her head shakes in denial. “Jonathan,” she starts.

  “Who the fuck is Jonathan?”

  Teeth to her lips, she can’t bring herself to speak.

  “Camryn’s ex,” Jesse explains.

  My blood runs cold. “Sarah is workin’ with Camryn’s psychotic ex?” I can’t hide the roar in my voice.

  A bullet aimed for me I can handle. One in search of Camryn, not a fucking chance.

  “Yes,” Blake admits regretfully. “Jonathan tried to meet with me but Jesse went in my place, told him we weren’t interested.”

  “They didn’t take that well.” I gesture to my son’s face. “Do you need a hospital?”

  “Nah. Nothing a little Tylenol and frozen peas can’t fix.”

  “So if you haven’t handed me over? Why the cash and where’s Camryn?”

  It’s then that Blake’s face breaks open. Her tears falling with full force. Throwing herself at me, she wraps her arms around me, desperation clawing out of her. “Please don’t hate me.”

  “Hate you?” I hug her back.

  “She was here. I told her everything. She went… to save Jesse.”

  My arms fall away. “She went where?”

  “To Sarah,” Jesse answers, knowing his sister wouldn’t be able to articulate the words.

  My feet stumble backward and I keep the momentum, moving into my gym to lose myself. To give myself a second of reprieve from the walls closing in.

  Fists clenched, I scream into the small space that has always offered me sanctuary. I can see myself in the floor to ceiling mirror. I don’t even recognize the man staring back at me. Not anymore. Energy bursting through me, I slam my fists against the lone bag hanging from the ceiling. I hit it again and again and again. Until my body gives out and I fall against it, hugging it to keep me upright.

  She went, willingly, to a mother that won’t protect her, into the arms of a man that is hellbent on hurting her. For what? Me?

  “She loves you.”

  I startle at Jesse’s voice, brushing at the tears that had escaped during my meltdown.

  “She wanted to do it.”

  “She didn’t need to.” My voice sounds like scrapped metal.

  “That’s not the point,” Jesse argues.

  I move toward him, thumb rubbing over the swell of his eye socket. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Absolutely,” he assures me. “Sarah would’ve come for her eventually, Rocco. All she wants in this world is to cause Dominic heartache.”

  “Come here.” I call out to Blake, who’s standing just outside the space, unsure of her welcome.

  She steps toward me tentatively. I pull her into my body, hugging her tightly. Hoping like hell I’m reassuring her that I’m not mad. That I understand. That I don’t blame them for any of this.

  This was all Sarah Rein.

  “I gotta make a phone call.”

  * * *

  I ain’t ever felt heartbreak like this. I ain’t ever felt pain like this. But then again, an unyielding hate lives inside me, it makes sense that it lives within her too. I think that’s where most of my pain comes from, knowing I gave her the shittiest parts of who I am.

  Tears dripping down her cheeks, her chin wobbles.

  “Hey,” I reassure her, forcing a smile. “It’s all good, kid. You’re a survivor, you did what you needed to. I respect the hell outta you for it.”

  “It was before I knew you,” she sobs, hands rubbing together in front of her, making her look like the lost child she is.

  I step forward, my hand gripping her chin. I can’t determine if it’s her jaw shaking or my hand. “I get it. You got nothin’ to explain to me, Blake. You did good.”

  She attempts to shake her head, my hand keeping her in place. “Look at me.”

  Eyes squeezed shut, her tears tumble out in rivers, the lump in my throat growing thicker with every droplet that falls.

  “Blake.” I wait. “Look at me.”

  Her eyes open reluctantly. “Meeting you and Jesse has been the greatest part of my life.”

  “They’ll kill you,” she cries.

  I swallow the acid of that reality down. “Maybe.” I don’t lie. She’s not stupid. She knew the outcome when she set it in motion.

  It’s the only way. I’m not leaving Camryn to fight that hell alone.

  “There has to be something we can do.”

  I look to my son, the rush of hysteria blinking back at me. “Just don’t go,” he urges. “I’ve seen this guy. He’s a fucking loose cannon. He’ll shoot you on sight, you’re too much of a threat. We just got you back.”

  Ain’t that a knife wound I wasn’t ready for.

  “I have to,” I tell him quietly.

  “They’ll kill Camryn anyway,” Blake attests. “Sarah wants to hurt Dominic, she knows the only way to do that is through the girls.”

 
; The air leaves my lungs.

  She’s not wrong.

  I can’t even guarantee she’s alive right now.

  “Camryn wouldn’t want you to do this. That’s why she left on her own accord. To save you.”

  “Ain’t her battle to fight,” I argue weakly.

  “Let’s just go,” Blake implores. “The three of us. We’ll start a new life somewhere else. A fresh start.”

  “She’ll come for you,” I yell, startling them both.

  Taking a breath, I quell the beast inside of me. “Sarah won’t stop. This is the only way I know you’ll be safe. You made a deal with the Devil, Blake, and I’m gonna make sure that handshake is honored. It’s the only way.”

  She shakes her head. “No.”

  “I don’t think I’ve told you both that I love you.” My voice cracks. Jesse walks away, his back to me as his fist breaks the plaster of my wall. “But I do. With everything I have inside’a me. You’ve been my reason for eighteen years. The moments I’ve felt like giving up, the promise of you fed my will to live. I owe you my life.” I clear my throat, my voice thick with enough emotion I can barely hear myself speak. “And that’s what I’m gonna give you.”

  Grabbing the sides of her head, Blake begins to cry, soft stuttered whimpers that force me to inhale to save the same sound breaking from my lips.

  “I thought you were awful. That you were like him. Like Marcus, that you dying would mean nothing to me. To us.”

  “Stop,” I tell her.

  “You’re my dad,” she wails. “I love you. You’re everything we were missing. We need you.”

  She looks to Jesse, searching for his agreement.

  “You don’t.” I look between them both, ignoring the grief painted openly on their faces. “You’re a force, the both of you and I couldn’t be more fuckin’ proud. My kids are fighters.”

  “I need more time with you,” Jesse whispers. “We need more time with you.”

  “I know,” I concede. “I’m so sorry I didn’t find you sooner. I’m sorry you went your whole lives thinkin’ there wasn’t someone fightin’ for you. I was,” I assure them, hoping like hell they believe me. “I was fightin’ so fuckin’ hard to find you.”

  A soft knock hits my front door and I take one last look at them before turning away.

  A sullen green stare I’ll never forget greets me when I open the door. A pair of eyes that once upon a time held the same level of grief and defeat as mine.

  “Roc,” he says, moving forward to drag me into a hug. “Good to see you, brother. Just wish it was under better circumstances.”

  I glance over his shoulder at the hulk of a man behind him.

  “Trey.” The flannel-cladded friend offers a hand and I take it firmly.

  “Appreciate you helpin’ out.”

  He shrugs, dismissing my thanks.

  “They don’t have much shit, but here.” I hand him an envelope thick with cash. “This’ll cover you until the rest of my shit is sorted. Parker’s number is in there too. For when you’re ready.”

  A dip of his chin to acknowledge my words, but nothing more.

  A lot passes between us in that moment.

  A friendship forged in self-induced cataclysm. We were nineteen when we met. Crazed and broken. In search of meaning, of purpose, hungry for destruction and appeased by our own demise. We beat the shit out of one another, neither of us coming up victorious. It was an illegal fight, one we each lost a shit-ton of cash on. But we walked from the ring bloodied, demoralized, but richer for the friendship we’d formed through our fists.

  He’s since sorted his life, married the girl-next-door and had a kid. He’s settled and I feel like a piece of shit for dragging him into the shitstorm of my life.

  Truth is, friendships aren’t high on my list of possessions. He’s one of the very few people I know I can trust.

  I take one last look at him before turning to the two wide-eyed teenagers standing quietly together. “Blake, Jesse, this is Archer Dean. An old friend of mine.”

  “What’s he supposed to be?” Blake bites out. “Our security? He looks like a retired military brat. And who is that?” She points to Trey. “His resident lumberjack?”

  Archer grins. “I ain’t lookin’ forward to this. Sachi’s still a fuckin’ toddler and I can barely handle her sass.”

  “They’re not security,” I tell the twins. “Archer is one of the few people I trust in this world. You’re gonna stay with him until he knows you’re safe.”

  Blake shakes her head. “You know it’s a suicide mission?” she barks at Archer, trying to camouflage the knot in her throat. “He knows they’ll kill him, but he’s going anyway.”

  Archer breaks his gaze from my daughter, eyeing my profile intensely.

  “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same.” I turn to him. “Tell me you wouldn’t go in for Annabelle, surrendering yourself to make sure Sachi was safe. Even if it meant adios to your life, maybe even Annabelle’s.”

  Nostrils flaring in panic, he swallows down his anger.

  “She wants me,” I mumble. “Sarah Rein. She wants me,” I tell him. “I need this to end. She can’t come for my fuckin’ kids.”

  He pulls in a thick breath, his chest expanding heavily before he blinks in acceptance. “You’re gonna come and stay with me and my wife until I know you’re safe.” He doesn’t look at the kids when he speaks to them, his eyes set solely on mine, a grief in understanding tipping his lips downward.

  Blake pushes forward, even as Jesse attempts to pull her back.

  “No!” she yells, pushing Archer’s chest. “You’re his friend, tell him no!”

  He says nothing, letting her small fists hit against him.

  “He’s our dad,” she shrieks. “We just got him. Not even back, because we’ve never even had him. We’ve lived our whole shitty lives without a dad. We just fucking got him. Help us. Please,” she begs, her hands moving from their fists into prayer. “Help us keep him.”

  “Blake.” Jesse steps up beside her, arm sliding over her shoulders to pull her into a hug.

  “If you go” —she looks over his shoulder at me, thick sobs shaking her body— “I’ll hate you forever.”

  My throat closes over, her words piercing my heart like a knife never could. “If that’s the way it has to be. But at least I know I protected you. Even just in the end. I kept you safe and I’m okay with you hatin’ me for doin’ that.”

  Archer’s hand grabs at my wrist. “Are you protected?”

  “Yeah,” I murmur. “I don’t know what good it’ll do me, but I ain’t goin’ in unarmed.”

  Walking forward, I grip the back of her neck. She fights me, trying to pull away, but I pull harder, Jesse between us. The moment my lips touch her forehead, the fight leaves her, her body convulsing with savage sobs that break away a part of my soul that will always be hers.

  I kiss Jesse’s temple, stepping back before I change my mind.

  One last nod and I move toward the door.

  “Dad.” Jesse’s voice hits my back and my knees nearly give out.

  Dad.

  Glancing over my shoulder, I take in my two kids, holding hands, watching me leave. “I love you. We love you. You were everythin’ you were supposed to be,” he sniffs. “Everything we wanted.”

  I turn away before I cry in front of them, forcing my feet through the door and slamming it in violent rage, wanting to kill something.

  I just hope I get the chance to rip Sarah Rein’s blackened heart from her chest before she puts me down.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Camryn

  “I suggest you take your hands off my girl before I sever your head from your body.” His voice sounds ready to burst into a million and one fatal shards. Fragments of grief and panic, fear and fury cutting through the space like my very own barbarian.

  I could swear I was dreaming. His voice the one coming to me in my final hour. The darkness creeping in. The light of my love trying to m
ake these last few minutes bearable.

  I fought and I fought fucking hard. My battle wounds are a testament to that.

  I’m pretty certain my ribs aren’t exactly broken. Bruised like a motherfucker though. A gift from Jonathan when I fell to the floor after a nasty punch to the face. His foot powered against my mid-section, over and over again until I was coughing up blood.

  I can’t see out of my left eye, it having swollen itself shut after a particularly violent jab. The entire left side of my face is numb, closed off from the excruciating pain I’m certain is about to hit me at any moment.

  Random scrapes and cuts decorate my weakened body. Blood smeared along my skin in a potent reminder of failure.

  Jonathan doesn’t look that fabulous either. Better than me, but still, no fucking oil painting. From what I can see out of my right eye anyway.

  That’s the thing about fighting for your life. Everything else falls away. Nothing mattered to me in that volcano of violence. We erupted. I knew if I stopped, if I paused, if I gave up… I was as good as dead. I may have been ready to die. But I wasn’t going without a fight. I wasn’t going willingly to his idea of hell.

  I took everything Rocco taught me and threw the power into my fists. Freedom. I kept reminding myself. I was fighting for freedom.

  The knife that Jonathan was holding at the breast of my shirt—ready to rid me of my clothing and the last glimmer of hope I held for my soul—pauses.

  Body weak and ready to collapse, I’m no better than a puppet. Threads of control held at Jonathan’s will, manipulated for his enjoyment. Twisting me easily, he slams my back against his chest.

  I grunt out in pain.

  “Beauty,” Rocco’s voice sounds as broken as it did only moments prior. His restraint is hanging on by the thinnest of threads.

  “Safe.” I try to smile, working to reassure him that I’m okay.

  “Safe,” Rocco echoes, trying to tell me that’s now where I stand.

  I want to reach out and tell him that he doesn’t need to look so sad. That I did this so he could be happy. Sarah is dead. I won. I fucking won. I fought and because I did, he can have his happily ever after.