The Boy Who Has No Belief (Soulless Book 7)

by Victoria Quinn

  “Four, bitch.”

  “Derek—”

  “Three, motherfucker.” I held up three fingers.

  He closed his eyes.

  “Two.” I held up two fingers. “Call my bluff, asshole. I’ll be happy to break your face the way you broke my world.”

  He kept his eyes closed.

  “One—”

  He got up and walked away.

  I dropped my hand, both relieved and disappointed. The music blared from the speakers as I watched him cross the bar and head for the exit. I wanted to hurt him the way he’d hurt me, but I was also glad he left…because hurting Ryan’s friend would have been a really shitty thing to do at his bachelor party.

  I looked over at Ryan, who was totally knocked out, his mouth open as he slept through the music and the threats that had just taken place. I lay back against the seat and rested my arm over his shins like an armrest. My heart continued to race with adrenaline, and my vision was slightly tinted red from the rage that would still be there even when I woke up tomorrow morning.

  I sat there alone…and waited for the night to end.

  18

  Emerson

  On Saturday morning, Lizzie and I grabbed her favorite fall drink from the coffee shop, and we went for a walk in the park. I was grateful Derek never asked me to work weekends because I got to spend that time with Lizzie. Sometimes she had games, and I would sit in the bleachers and watch her, and while I was grateful to be there, I preferred to spend time with her in other ways, where we could actually talk to each other.

  Lizzie and I were having lunch when Derek texted me. Baby, I’m going to have to reschedule for tonight.

  I read his message and felt a wave of disappointment hit me. Hard.

  Lizzie must have noticed because she said, “What?”

  I looked up quickly and put my phone down. “Derek rescheduled. Didn’t say why.” I knew he’d gone out with Ryan and some friends to celebrate the wedding. I suspected it didn’t go well and that was the reason why Derek canceled. Maybe he was hungover, but I suspected he would say that if that were the case.

  “Maybe he had to work.”

  He didn’t go in on the weekends since the compound was closed. And he wouldn’t go in in the evening either. But I didn’t say that to Lizzie. “Yeah, maybe.”

  She dunked her chips into the salsa as she stared at me. “Then why do you still look like that?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like you might cry.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m not going to cry. I just…hope everything is alright.”

  She continued to eat her chips, studying me.

  If Lizzie weren’t with me, I would stop by his penthouse and see him myself, but I knew I couldn’t overstep my boundaries and break his privacy just because I was anxious to know everything was okay. I would have to let it go.

  “Maybe he can come over tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  We were in front of the TV that evening, and even though Lizzie always wanted to stay up late on the weekends, she was knocked out by nine. She was sleeping on the couch, the blanket draped over her, her ponytail up on the pillow behind her.

  I pulled out my phone and texted Derek. I hadn’t stopped thinking about what he said to me that afternoon, and it was consuming me. You think you can come over for dinner tomorrow? I didn’t want to be clingy and anxious, but I was anxious. He told me it didn’t bother him when I was blunt with my thoughts and feelings, so I didn’t try to be diplomatic.

  He didn’t say anything.

  Derek?

  This weekend just doesn’t work for me. I’ll see you on Monday.

  It was like a punch to the stomach, knocking all the air out of my lungs. My eyes sank in disappointment. I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t want to have this conversation over text message.

  I had my mom hang out with Lizzie the next day so I could go to Derek’s penthouse by myself. I couldn’t wait until Monday to have this conversation, to talk him through whatever he was struggling with. It sounded like more than a simple falling-out between two friends. Whatever happened was intense.

  I knocked on his door.

  No answer.

  I knocked again. “Derek, it’s me.”

  It was at least thirty seconds before his footsteps were audible on the other side of the door. Locks were turned and then he opened it. He didn’t give me a warm reception, no slight smile, no affection in his gaze. His eyes were lidded with irritation, like we were back in time when I was just an annoying pest that wouldn’t go away.

  It hurt.

  He continued to stare at me and didn’t invite me inside.

  “Can I come in or…?”

  He dropped his hand from the knob and walked into the penthouse, turning his back to me as he moved farther into the living room.

  I shut the door behind me then walked to him. “Derek—”

  “I said I would see you on Monday.” He turned back around and stared me down. “I need space right now. I thought I made that pretty obvious.”

  “Obvious would be telling me you need space because something happened. You didn’t say that, Derek. And I didn’t come here to interrogate you. I came because I’m worried. That’s all.”

  His eyes didn’t soften like they should.

  “Talk to me.”

  “I don’t want to talk, Emerson. I want to be alone—”

  “Don’t call me that.” My body immediately lit on fire, angry fire. “You call me baby. Only baby. No first-name bullshit.”

  He stilled like he didn’t expect the outburst.

  “I don’t like it when you treat me differently because you’re upset.”

  “I wouldn’t have treated you differently if you’d given me the space I clearly need.” He didn’t raise his voice like I did, but somehow, he was louder than I was. “I fucking love you with all my heart, but I just need some time to myself. Is that really that egregious?”

  “No. I just wish…you would confide in me.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said quickly.

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t,” he snapped. “I don’t have to share every little thing with you—”

  “But I would hope that you’d want to. Derek, I know everything about you. Why is this off the table?” He told me about the Odyssey, about his mom, but he wouldn’t tell me this, and I didn’t understand why.

  He looked away and turned silent.

  “I’m not challenging you. I’m just asking.”

  He sighed quietly, closed his eyes, and after he considered it his answer, he opened them again. “It’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, and every time I talk about it, it …makes me feel just as bad as I felt when it actually happened. It’s hard to understand, but my memory works differently than other people’s. Normal people can only memorize up to seven numbers and not exceed that. I can memorize a hundred. When things happen to me, they’re always fresh in my mind, so it’s harder for me to get past things. Normal people forget within a reasonable amount of time, the details become hazy, and that’s a good thing because it allows them to bounce back. But with me, it’s always fresh. So when I talk about it, it’s like experiencing it all over again, like a goddamn motion picture in my head, and I just…don’t want to do it. My dad has the same problem, and it’s more of a curse than a blessing. He can remember entire days we spent together at the cabin when I was six, and when he’s having a bad day, he just plays that video in his head. But he also remembers all the bad things too.”

  I’d never thought of that before, how having such a high intelligence would affect your life in so many negative ways. “That makes sense, Derek. I can’t even imagine.”

  He stood there for a while, moving his hands to his hips, standing in his just his sweatpants and nothing else. He looked out the window for a while before he turned back to me, his eyes not as harsh as they were before. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. We’ve
gone through this same scenario so many times, and you’re just trying to help me…and I act like an asshole.”

  “You don’t act like an asshole, Derek.” When I saw my man come back to me, I felt the tightness in my chest evaporate. I loved this side of him, thoughtful and sensitive. “You’re upset. We do negative things when we’re upset.”

  “But I shouldn’t do negative things to you… I’m sorry.”

  “I’m the one who came over here—”

  “Because you care about me. Because you love me. And I should be happy that you do that, not upset.”

  And just like that, he swept me off my feet again.

  He moved into me and wrapped his thick arms around me in an embrace, pulling me close and pressing a kiss to my hairline, smothering me with love that I could feel and didn’t need to hear with words.

  I closed my eyes and rested my cheek against his chest.

  Before he pulled away, he gave my neck a few kisses.

  When his arms were gone, I suddenly felt cold. His touch made me higher than a kite, but his withdrawal made me feel so unhappy, I wasn’t sure if I would ever be happy again.

  He moved to the couch and took a seat, leaning forward with his forearms on his knees.

  I sat across from him and stared at his sexiness, that shadow along his jaw that was growing in thicker and thicker because he stopped shaving over the weekend, probably because he was in a sour mood. The veins all over his hard muscles of his arms and hands were like rivers…beautiful. “So, did you have a good time at all?”

  He shrugged. “Some of the time.”

  “Did Ryan have a good time?”

  He nodded. “He did. Was already drunk when I got there. Didn’t make it to eleven, and then I threw him over my shoulder and took him home.”

  “Wow, sounds like he had a great time.”

  “Yeah, he did. That’s all that matters.” He massaged his knuckles as he looked down at his hands.

  “Well, it’s over now, right?”

  He shrugged.

  “You guys just hung out at the bar the whole time?”

  “Yeah. There were about twelve of us.”

  “Did you know all of them?”

  “About half. The rest of the guys were people he knew from work or Camille’s brother.”

  “Did you get a lot of free drinks?”

  He stilled at my question before he shook his head. “No.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “You went to a bar and paid for your drinks?”

  “Yes, I paid for my drinks.” He lifted his gaze and looked at me.

  I’d never been in a relationship before, so I didn’t know if I was the jealous type or not, but with Derek, I wasn’t. I knew he was drop-dead gorgeous and got ass handed to him left and right. But I also knew how committed and loyal he was, so I wasn’t worried that some bombshell would lick his neck and ask to suck his dick in the bathroom. He could have that lifestyle if he wanted to, but he clearly didn’t because he wanted to be with me. I suspected he was lying but didn’t want to upset me. It was an honorable thing to do. “I’m not the jealous type, just so you know.”

  He studied me, like he was trying to decipher what I meant.

  “Derek, you’re literally the sexiest man alive. I know women are going to hit on you the second I’m not around. It doesn’t bother me.”

  He was quiet for a long time, holding my gaze. “That’s interesting. Because if I imagine you in a bar, with a bunch of guys buying you drinks and staring at your ass, I’d lose my fucking mind.”

  I felt my cheeks redden at his honesty. “I know that I’m the only woman you want to be with, so those girls can do their best, but it’s not going to make a difference. I guess that’s why I’m not jealous. I’m not threatened.”

  A slow smile moved on to his lips. “I’m glad you feel that way. Means I’m doing my job.”

  “You are.” I had the perfect man, but I wasn’t scared to lose him. I trusted him the way I trusted my own family. It was ironclad. “So…how many drinks?”

  “I honestly paid for my own drinks.”

  I narrowed my eyes.

  “Drinks were sent, but I never took them. Women came over, but I asked them to leave me alone. So, the answer I gave is truthful. I paid for my own drinks.”

  That kind of loyalty in a man was unheard of. “Maybe I can buy you a drink sometime.”

  He smiled. “I’d definitely take that one.”

  It still baffled me that women way hotter and way younger wanted him, without kids who were practically teenagers, and I was the only woman who interested him. Men were always visual creatures, carrying about appearance above all things, but since he was so smart, his intellect needed to be satisfied to be happy…and that worked out in my favor. “I’m guessing the person you didn’t want to see provoked you?”

  His smile immediately disappeared at the mention of the subject. “He did.”

  “And…it didn’t go well?”

  He shook his head. “He tried to talk to me, and I told him I wasn’t interested. It escalated and escalated… Ryan was so passed out he didn’t hear a thing, thankfully, because I said some pretty hard shit.”

  “That was wrong of him to start stuff at your friend’s bachelor party.”

  He was quiet for a long time, staring at his hands. “That wasn’t his intention. He was just trying to talk to me, but I wasn’t interested.” He lifted his chin and looked at me.

  I stayed quiet, hoping he would open up to me on his own.

  “Apologized, said he wanted to rekindle our friendship, he’s thought about me a lot over the last ten years… I told him to walk away or I’d break his face.”

  I tried not to react to the harsh threat. “You guys were close ten years ago?”

  He nodded. “Best friends since first grade.”

  “Wow, that’s a long time.”

  He shrugged.

  “You know…good friends are hard to find.”

  He stared me down.

  “Sometimes it’s good to forgive and forget, you know—”

  “Not this.”

  “What is this?”

  He stared me down, starting to get angry again. “He’s a piece of shit. Just take my word for it.”

  19

  Derek

  Ryan texted me. Dude, I’m still hungover.

  It’s Tuesday.

  I know. I’m totally failing at work right now.

  And you’re probably making it worse by texting.

  LOL. I was never going to get employee of the month anyway…

  I went back to work.

  He texted me again. Want to get together after work for a drink? They do say to drink when you’re hungover.

  That shit’s a myth. I drank all weekend, and I still felt like shit.

  Sure. Just tell me when to meet you.

  K.

  I went back to work, then Emerson walked over. She had lunch in her hands, turkey apple sandwiches with spinach salads. She set mine in front of me.

  “This looks healthy.”

  “The guys will be disappointed, huh?” she said with a smile. “We can’t eat burritos every day.” She went over to the guys and handed them their food.

  Emerson came back and took a seat across from me with her laptop open.

  It was distracting having her so close to me, with her hair all big and curled, her sweater sliding off her shoulder slightly and showing that sexy skin underneath.

  We hadn’t talked about Kevin since my penthouse, and I was grateful that it was over. She didn’t mention it again, and we’d never have to talk about it. “What are you working on?”

  “Editing your book.”

  “Isn’t that Astra Books’ problem?”

  “But I want it to be perfect. I’m a lot more invested in this story than they are.”

  “I don’t know about that since they’re the ones making the money.”

  She shrugged. “Money isn’t everything.” She held her sandwich with one h
and and took a bite. “Have you told your parents about Lizzie?”

  I shook my head. “I was supposed to have dinner with them on Sunday night, but I canceled.”

  She didn’t react to what I said even though she knew why I canceled. “I bet they’ll be happy.”

  “Yes, I’ll hear all about it.” My parents liked to play Cupid in my life, and I hoped Dex settled down on his own. Otherwise, Mom would play with him like a puppet on a string.

  She smiled then took another bite. “Still have time to tutor Lizzie today?”

  “I always have time for her.”

  She stopped chewing for a moment, but she continued.

  “But I am meeting Ryan for a drink after work. I’ll meet you afterward.”

  “When are they getting married?”

  “Not sure. They’re kinda just making it up as they go along. Ryan didn’t want a bachelor party, but then it turned into one anyway.”

  “Do you know who the maid of honor is?”

  “Actually, no. Why?”

  “Well, maybe you should host something for them. Like an engagement party or the rehearsal dinner, something like that.”

  “I don’t want to overstep. I feel like if I offer something like that, it might drown out everything else they do…and make me look like an asshole.”

  “How so?”

  I should be working, but it was so much easier to talk to her. It was a break for my brain. “If I did something nice for them, it would just highlight the fact that I have more money than they do, and people will talk about that instead of everything else they do. Marriage isn’t about how nice the wedding is or the rehearsal or whatever. It’s about the two people, so I feel like doing that would overshadow everything and appear disingenuous.”

  “I didn’t think about it like that.”

  “They don’t know this yet, but I was going to send them on a nice honeymoon. Tell them privately. Camille has always wanted to go to Italy, so I thought I could send them there in the spring or summer.”

  Her eyes softened. “That’s so sweet, Derek.”

  I didn’t know how to respond, so I just grabbed my sandwich and took a bite.