by K. V. Rose
I turn around and walk to the window, shove my hands in my pockets.
“It’s true,” she says quietly behind me, but not meekly. “It’s true, and you know it. You’ve spent three years hating me, three years not even able to think about me without your blood boiling, but that night…Caden, I didn’t fucking send it.”
I don’t say anything.
“And tonight, that wasn’t me either.”
I was the one who kissed her first. Who pushed this boundary. Who crossed the line. I can’t look back at that line though and see regret.
She’s saying something else about the video, but every muscle in my body is tense as I stare out the windows, the curtains open.
Someone is coming down the driveway, their headlights shining into the living room.
She falls silent at my back.
Benji comes to stand next to me, and I can feel the tension rolling off of him in waves.
Then Riley comes to stand between us.
“Who is that?” she whispers, twisting her head to look at us, as if we might have another sick surprise planned for her.
But we don’t.
“It’s my dad,” I finally say as we watch him get out of the car and walk to the front door.
Thirty-Six
Present
I thought I was scared before.
When Benji walked into my bedroom, broke into my house. When he threatened my mom if I didn’t come with him. I thought I had been scared then. But that was a different fear. That was a thrill. The excitement of danger that wouldn’t really burn.
Watching Rolland Virani walk up the steps to this house, that’s real fear.
Pure terror.
Caden turns to look at Benji. “Hide her.” I don’t imagine the hatred in his tone.
But Benji is calm. He puts a comforting hand on my back.
“No,” he says, shaking his head, his dark hazel eyes narrowed. “We’ll handle him. She doesn’t need to hide.”
Caden is agitated. “Don’t tell me what she needs, Benji,” he snarls. “My father will hurt her if he sees her here with us.” He looks to me. I don’t know what he sees, but suddenly, recognition slides into his eyes, his shoulders curve inward and he looks more distraught than he has all night as he says, “He already has, hasn’t he?”
“I think you’re a little late for that, Caden. And I’m not going anywhere.”
Now is so not the time. It’s too late for that.
Especially as Rolland rings the doorbell, the sound shattering through the quiet house like broken glass.
“Fuck!” Caden swears, and he turns around and without another word, strides over to the door and pulls it open.
Benji’s hand on my back goes to my shoulder and he squeezes me, gently.
“I knew someone hurt you,” he says quietly.
I have no time to respond to that, because every nerve in my body is pulled taut as Rolland walks into this house, and Caden slams the door behind him.
“What the fuck have you done?” Caden snarls, and before anyone can say anything else, he slams his father against the door, his hand around Rolland’s neck. “It was you. It was you this whole time, wasn’t it?”
Rolland is in a suit, his hair slicked back, and he looks over at me and Benji. To his credit, he stays calm, but I can see there’s some fear in his face. Because his son is so much stronger than he is. In every way.
“Is this the proper way to greet your father, Caden?” Rolland whispers, because he can’t speak any louder with Caden’s hand around his throat.
Benji puts himself in front of me, and I shove him out my way. He lets me, but stands close. There’s no way in hell I’m going to sit quietly this time. This time, I’m not drugged.
“Why’re you hiding the prize?” Rolland sneers.
Caden grabs his father’s shirt and slams him back against the door, hard. I swear I hear Rolland’s head crack against the wood.
“Caden,” Benji warns. “We don’t want him dead before he confesses.” His tone is light, but he’s trying to get Caden back to his senses. Because no matter what they think, what they might have just figured out, they don’t really trust me. They want to hear what Rolland has to say.
I don’t blame them for that.
There’s no way to get around the fact that I haven’t told Caden everything. That I couldn’t bring myself to admit the truth, because it shamed me.
But not anymore. What’s done is done. I’m going to own it, and I’m going to enjoy watching Rolland suffer as I do.
Jack’s death might be on me. But not because I left him. Because I couldn’t tell him what his father did to me. I couldn’t warn him.
With the memory of it, my heart hammers in my chest and I cross my arms, feeling faint, some of my anger burning to grief.
Caden lets go of his dad.
“Sit,” he orders him, pointing at the couch furthest from me and Benji.
Rolland straightens his tie, smooths down his suit, and finally does so, with sure, even steps, as if his own son hadn’t just knocked his head against the door.
Elegantly, Rolland sits on the couch, ankle over knee, and he looks to me and Benji.
“Are you two enjoying her?” he asks.
I feel Benji tense beside me, his shoulder brushing against me. “Your son might not actually kill you, but I will.”
There’s enough menace in Benji’s words that Rolland, for once, is silent.
Benji takes my hand in his and pulls me to the couch across from Rolland, a coffee table—the one Benji fucked me on just moments ago—between us.
Caden doesn’t sit. He paces at the edge of the room, watching us. All of us. I swear his eyes narrow on my hand in Benji’s, but he doesn’t say anything.
“Tell me the story behind the video,” Benji demands of Rolland.
Rolland smiles, his face wrinkling as he does. His gaze flicks to me. “You mean, she hasn’t told you already? She hasn’t told you how she spread her legs for me—”
Caden’s fist lands on the mirror beside the front door and it shatters into a hundred pieces, the sound piercing.
I won’t have to tell them after all. Rolland is here to confess. But I feel sick. Because even I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what happened after the phone stopped recording.
Caden whirls around, blood over his knuckles—I can see it even in the darkness—and his eyes are wild. “If you make one more comment like that,” he says calmly, totally at odds with how he looks, “I will slit your goddamn throat.”
Benji is silent.
I’m barely breathing.
I have an irrational urge to run to Caden, to kiss his bloody knuckles. But I sit on my hand that’s not in Benji’s, and don’t move.
Silence rings through in the aftermath of the shattered glass.
Finally, Benji clears his throat. “Tell me the story behind the video,” he says again, as if there’s been no interruption.
Rolland’s eyes flick to me once more, but he doesn’t say anything stupid. Instead, he shrugs.
“You watched it. What does it look like happened, Mr. Silva?”
Benji’s hand tightens around mine. “Don’t play games with me.”
Rolland laughs. He jerks his head to Caden. “I think this kid is the one playing games,” he says, and shocking me, Caden says nothing, just keeps pacing, blood pouring down his hand.
“Let me explain this to you, Mr. Virani,” Benji says, voice dark. “If you don’t tell me precisely what happened before and after the events in that video, if you don’t tell me who is in it, I’ll fucking gut you. I will run a knife from your head to your balls, and I’ll be slow about it. So please, let’s get on with this.” His words are so calm, I’m scared. And I don’t even have balls.
I can see, in the moonlight from outside the window at my back, Rolland’s face pales.
“Very well,” he says after he clears his throat. “Riley,” he nods in my direction, and my skin crawls, as it always does around him,
“came to me in a time of need. I offered her platonic comfort and she…well…she wanted to take it further.”
“You didn’t stop her?” Benji asks before Caden can say anything. Before I can say anything.
Rolland leans back on the couch, spreads his arms around the back of it, as if he’s completely relaxed. “Oh, son, there’s no stopping Riley Larson when she wants something.” A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.
I feel my temper rising again.
This is about me.
Benji doesn’t get to interrogate him and let him slander me. And since we’re all here, it’s time everyone knew the fucking truth. I can own my mistake. My fuck up. Concealing the truth. But it’s time for Rolland Virani to own his.
I stand up, shrugging out of Benji’s grip.
“Riley,” Caden calls, but I ignore him too. I cross around the table, until I’m standing directly in front of Rolland, and I see his eyes spark at the challenge. He sits up straight, brings his hands to his lap.
“You’re a fucking liar,” I say, chest heaving. I point at him as I talk, and his twisted smile widens. “A fucking liar. Tell them the truth.” Now I point at Caden. “Tell your son the truth about what you did to me. Tell him you put your filthy hands all over me, when I came to your house, running away from my mom’s fucking boyfriend.” Those words come out hoarse and my lip trembles.
I see the smallest flicker of a shadow cross Rolland’s face. But it’s not enough. Not nearly enough.
“I ran away, looking for a place to stay.” I take a deep breath, swallowing back the tears. I won’t cry over this shit again. “And you drugged me. You fucking drugged me and you put your filthy hands all over me when I ran away from Mom’s because one of her piece of shit boyfriends tried to rape me.” The words are strangled in my throat.
“And you…you took advantage of that.”
I turn to Caden, and he’s completely still, staring at me, awestruck. His face is full of pain. “That video isn’t the half of it. Jack was on a tour. You were…you were at school.” I bite my lip and shake my head and Caden looks as if I’m gutting him.
“I wasn’t there,” he says softly, as if this could somehow possibly be his fault.
I shake my head. “It wasn’t you,” I say. “You had nothing to do with this.” I gesture toward Rolland, at my side, and blink through the tears. “You had nothing to do with this, Caden. He did it. And I couldn’t tell him no, I couldn’t move, because I was drugged. I don’t know what happened after the video clip. I don’t fucking know because I passed out. And I didn’t send it to Jack. He threatened me against showing anyone, and I never would have sent it to Jack. Never.”
Silence again.
Caden’s face has crumpled.
He looks like he might sink to his knees.
“That’s not the whole story, now is it, darling?” Rolland says.
Then he grabs me, tugging me down into his lap. I squirm in his grip, hitting him in the chest, again and again.
Caden rushes toward me, and Benji is on his feet, but Rolland pulls something from his blazer.
A gun.
A fucking gun.
He holds it, pointed up, and I still in his lap.
Caden and Benji both are frozen in place, Caden’s eyes darting from me to Benji and back again.
“Put that down,” Benji says, but it’s the first time I’ve heard fear in his words.
I can smell Rolland. Too much cologne and alcohol on his breath. He strokes his hand down my hair, over the thin material along my tank top over my back. My legs are stretched out on the couch, draped over him.
I don’t dare move.
My eyes are on the handgun.
“The whole story is better,” Rolland purrs, and his hand goes lower down my back. I can barely breathe.
“The whole story is that I used that little bit of blackmail to make sure she never got too far from me.”
Caden shakes his head. He’s a few feet from us and I know he wants to close the distance. He wants to run to me. His chest is heaving beneath his crisp white shirt, but he doesn’t dare move.
“What are you talking about?” he asks.
I know what he’s talking about. I know what Rolland is going to say, and it makes this all the worse. One more part of my betrayal that even Caden won’t understand.
“I’ve always felt the tension between both of you. When you came home for holidays or on the weekends. I could practically taste her pussy and how wet it got for you.”
“You sick fuck,” Benji says from beside us.
Caden’s eyes are murderous.
“I knew you felt the same about her. And Jack…” he sighs. “Jack was never going to marry her. Jack couldn’t help himself. Couldn’t make himself happy. There was no way he could make her happy.” Rolland looks at me and leans in, inhaling in my neck, breathing me in.
My entire body is shaking.
The gun is still aimed at the ceiling, and I don’t dare move.
His hand is just above the waistband of my shorts.
“It was me that she needed. I never planned for her to run to me, from her fucking slut of a mother. But I’m so glad she did. Because with that video, I made her come to me, over and over again these past few years. Because I couldn’t stand the sight of her getting away from me.”
“You…” Caden breathes. His eyes go from me, to his father, and back again to me. “Is that true?” he asks quietly.
I nod and take a shaky breath. I feel Rolland’s eyes on me. “I wanted to tell you, Caden,” I manage to say. “I wanted to tell you.” A sob tears through me, but I bite my lip, holding it in. “I wanted to so bad.” I shake my head, the grief clawing at me. “I really did.” I can barely breathe, but I push the words out. “I’m so sorry I never did. That night…I was in shock. This is why…it’s why I left Jack.”
There’s no sound in the room but my own muffled sobs.
But then Benji speaks.
“How did he find out?” he asks quietly. “If you didn’t send the video…” His eyes narrow on Rolland.
I cross my arms over my body, squeezing myself, shaking my head.
You took her.
That was the note Jack left.
Rolland’s fingers slide up my shirt, his skin against mine. I stop breathing, and Caden looks like he’s torn. Between letting his father kill me, and killing his father himself. He runs a hand over his face, blood streaking down his jaw, and closes his eyes, trying to breathe.
I don’t dare look to Benji.
Rolland’s hand reaches my neck, and then he runs his fingers through my hair.
“I did,” he says quietly.
It seems as if time has stopped.
No one moves.
No one breathes.
“I did,” he says again, tone even.
I finally look at him. His eyes lock on mine, a devious smile on his face.
“But you both were wrong, this whole time. He didn’t kill himself over it.” He shakes his head, enjoying my confusion. “You think a son of mine would take his own life?”
My chest feels tight.
“What the fuck are you saying?” Benji asks.
Caden hasn’t said a word.
“He was devastated over the video, when I sent it to him,” Rolland says again, fingers stroking my head. He brushes a lock of hair from my face, and I can’t look away from him. I no longer care there’s a gun two inches from my face. I need to hear this.
“No,” Rolland shakes his head and has the audacity to look aggrieved. “He found out about you and me, Riley,” he continues. “He found out about us.”
“No,” I say, the word barely audible, even between us, as I realize what it is he’s saying. “No.” I shake my head, shaking off his fingers. “No. He can’t have. You wouldn’t have—” I always hoped he didn’t know. Always hoped he thought I slept with some random stranger. That in his last moments, he didn’t die hating his own father.
“Oh, Riley. I
would have done anything to keep you underneath me. And he fought me, when I came up to his room after I sent it. He fought me. He felt sorry for you. I can understand that.”
You took her.
I always thought it was to a man he didn’t know. A last plea against a stranger.
“That note…” I’m fumbling for words. I’m fumbling to think. I feel as if I might collapse. I feel as if I might take that gun and shove it down Rolland’s throat myself.
“That note was from me.” Rolland sighs, and I stare down at my lap, mouth hanging open. He keeps talking and I try to focus on his words, try not to fall apart. “I showed him the video that night, after I came home and sent Matthew out.” Rolland laughs, and it makes my hair stand on end. “I wrote the note, to keep you quiet, darling. To give you that guilt. To flesh out the scene.”
“What are you saying?” I manage to ask, feeling my blood turn to ice in my veins from terror.
“Jack Virani didn’t commit suicide, darling. He lunged for me, when I came up to his room afterward. I wanted him to get out of his misery. Stop crying over you. To leave you alone, because you were mine. He went for me. Grabbed the gun he knows I always have, here.” He pats his chest, where he had pulled the gun from moments ago. He sighs. “We struggled. But in the end, it was me or him. And he was always weak. It was too easy to stage a suicide. You saw it yourself.”
I stop breathing.
I did see.
Caden did, too.
We saw all the blood in his room.
The gun.
The note.
Jack’s pale face, eyes wide on the ceiling.
This wasn’t my fault.
It doesn’t absolve my guilt. I did the wrong thing. So many times, at every turn, I did the wrong thing. But it wasn’t me that pushed Jack over the edge.
Jack didn’t go over the edge.
Jack was murdered.
By this man.
By his own father.
I lunge at him, grabbing the gun.
“Riley!” Caden shouts my name, but I don’t care. This is my fight, too.
But Rolland is too fast.
He stands up, taking me with him, and wrenches the gun out of my grasp.
I’m on my feet, his arm wrapped around my waist, and the gun is pointed at my head. He backs up, Caden and Benji stepping closer. He drags me with him, until his back is against the wall.