Thrown Down (Made in Jersey #2)

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Thrown Down (Made in Jersey #2) Page 15

by Tessa Bailey


  Before she’d left him standing there gaping after her on the curb, she’d praised him for opening up about his experience overseas. Now he felt sick about letting her think he’d been honest for honesty’s sake. No, it had only been another instance of him doling out the truth. Telling River her father had given him no choice but to leave Hook—the actual reason behind his disappearing—would hurt her in an unimaginable way. And wasn’t that the reason he kept things from River to begin with? Saving her from feeling doubt or pain…or worse—the need to give him sympathy when comfort was something he didn’t understand.

  There hadn’t been comfort for him growing up, only distractions. Well, that shit wasn’t going to fly anymore. By coaxing River into bed every time she tried to make things personal, he was actually pushing her away. The absolute last thing he ever wanted. Hell, being near her was the only thing worth fighting for in this life, but he’d been battling against himself.

  Time to change that. Time to shatter the solo comfort zone he’d been living in and build it around his family instead. Unfortunately, doing so could sever the bond between River and the family who’d raised her, loved her, and helped her pick up the pieces when he bailed. Was he ready for that?

  Vaughn climbed out of his truck and stopped, lifting an eyebrow at the polished black Mercedes parked in the motel lot. Identifying the vehicle didn’t take a private investigator, being that only one man in Hook owned a ride like that—Renner Bastion, the new factory owner. Vaughn wondered if the guy might be closed up in one of the rooms, working through some afternoon delight, but quickly disregarded the notion. Renner wouldn’t sully himself with the stink of ancient polyester.

  His theory was proven correct when he caught sight of suit-and-tie dressed Renner waiting outside his door, speaking briskly into his cell phone. But he ended the call when he saw Vaughn approaching. “Mr. De Matteo. Are you always this difficult to reach?”

  Interesting question. River would have answered it with a resounding yes. “Depends on who you’re asking.”

  “I’d point out that I was asking you, but I don’t have time to talk in circles.” Renner made a quick adjustment of his tie clip. “I’ve been called out of town, so I won’t be available for our meeting tomorrow.”

  Vaughn’s stomach twisted. “You came to tell me this in person?”

  “No, I came to have the meeting now.” For the first time, Vaughn noticed how stressed out Renner looked, lines prominent around his eyes and mouth. Maybe not quite as flawless under all the expensive nonsense he was wearing? “There was a break-in yesterday at the factory and a new piece of equipment—just delivered—was stolen. Had to be someone who knew the delivery was coming, which unfortunately, could have been four dozen construction workers, who I didn’t have time to vet and certainly can’t take time to question.” A brisk roll of his shoulders. “I’m beginning to see the merit in a twenty-four-hour security team.”

  Hope replaced the dread in Vaughn’s middle, spurring on a sense of urgency. This was his shot. While his head was still preoccupied with River, focusing now could mean good things for the family he needed to win back. For good. Forever. “We going to do this out here, or you want to come inside?”

  There was a flash of something speculative in Renner’s expression—reserved, but there, nonetheless—and enough to make Vaughn wonder if Renner might have heard that same line from men before, with far different intentions. “No. Outside will do,” the factory owner finally answered, after clearing his throat. “I conduct all my business meetings in shitty parking lots. Can’t you tell?”

  When Vaughn laughed, the other man looked somewhat startled. “Fair enough.” He blew out a breath, recalling the system he’d laid out in his mind. “As I mentioned before, you need a night patrol with two guards, one in the control room, one walking the four perimeters.” Using as much detail as he could, Vaughn explained the sophisticated monitoring system he had in mind, one he’d installed and operated at his job while living in Baltimore. “But it’s not just security on the outside you need to think about. I love the people in this town, but you can’t have blind faith when money is involved. Once you have human resources in place, we can work with them to arrange a security check as the employees leave the premises each day. I’d also prohibit any photography and—”

  “Right. I’m relieved you’ve put some thought into this.” Renner checked something on his cell phone screen. “I wasn’t sure what to expect.”

  Vaughn grinned. “You were worried I was going to show up with some binoculars and a six pack. Happy to prove you wrong.” He tossed his car keys up in the air and caught them. “As of now, I’ve got one man on board. Milo Bautista. We were overseas together, and he’s been doing security…of a kind…up in Boston. Little rough around the edges, but he takes his jobs seriously. He’ll help me train the new hires.”

  Renner considered him a moment before removing a business card from his front pocket and handing it over to Vaughn. “You’ll need to speak to my accountant about putting funds in place. And I’ll want to meet this partner of yours when I’m back in town.” He gave a firm nod as he strode past Vaughn toward the black luxury vehicle. “Congratulations. You’re hired.”

  Hot damn. Even while going through his whole spiel, he hadn’t been sure of the outcome. The opportunity seemed too easy for someone who’d fought for every chance he’d ever been given. “Thank you,” Vaughn called, without turning around.

  A car door opened behind Vaughn. “One question, Mr. De Matteo. If you show up to my factory in ripped jeans, who is going to escort you out?”

  Vaughn snorted, turning to watch the Mercedes pull out of the lot. His chest was so packed full of relief and anticipation and leftover nerves that when he attempted to enter his room, he stopped.

  His truck burned rubber onto the road a moment later, words—long overdue words—he needed to say to River fighting for room in his throat. And maybe for the first time in his life he felt capable of backing up the promises he planned to make.

  Chapter Twenty

  River had just set Marcy up at the dining room table with her lunch—Duke’s sisters on all sides, nursing cups of coffee—when Vaughn’s truck screeched to a stop at the curb. From the house’s front window, she watched him alight from the driver’s side, that long-legged stride eating up the walkway leading to her front door. Maybe intuition was to blame for the bubble of excitement that lifted, bumping off her ribs before rising to her throat. A sense of…magic in the air. Which would sound crazy if she spoke it out loud, but made sense when kept contained inside her whirring thoughts.

  It was the only other time River could recall Vaughn moving with that much purpose, save the instances he’d been racing toward a fight. The first time he’d said I love you, River—age seventeen—had already said it first. While making out in the back of his truck, hidden inside fogged up windows, she’d whispered it in his ear. I love you, Vaughn. God, he’d looked horrified, diving out through the back door, climbing into the driver’s seat and taking River home. Not even bothering to say a word as she ran toward the house…

  River could barely see through eyes made puffy by crying. After Vaughn dropped her off, she’d fallen across her bed, not bothering to muffle the sounds of misery coming from her mouth, since nobody was home to hear them. At first, she swore the pounding on the downstairs front door was her damaged heart, finally giving up the battle. Until it got louder, and louder, then stopped, right before a crash sent her jackknifing on the mattress, staring at her bedroom door, positive an intruder would burst through and kill her, officially making that day the worst in history.

  But it wasn’t an intruder who’d sent her door slamming against the opposite wall. It was Vaughn—eyes wild, breath labored, hands bloody from pounding on her front door. He took one look at her tear-stained face and dove forward, tackling her onto the bed. “I love you, I love you, I love you. Okay? Okay, doll? I’m the worst fuck-up in the world, and I shouldn’t let you love me
.” His voice was hoarse and agonized. “It’s the best thing that ever happened to me. And I’m the worst thing that ever happened to you. But I can’t help loving you so much. I can’t help needing you this bad.”

  It was like an abrupt ending to the worst storm in history, perfect sunshine breaking through the clouds to shine down on River’s heart. Healing it, healing her. She wrapped her legs around Vaughn’s waist and let his mouth remove the tears from her face with kisses, laughing in a way that sounded sad, but was really so happy she’d never heard the like coming from her own lips. “Vaughn, why would you say something like that about yourself—”

  Her words ended on a gasp, when Vaughn thrust his hips between her thighs, jolting River’s body on the bed. “Can we play one of our games, Riv?” His tongue teased the flesh beneath her ear. “You’re so sweet, you make me ache all over. You aching for me, too, doll?”

  Another desperate rocking of bodies, private parts grinding together. The new, sexual energy she still hadn’t grown accustom to blocked out her frustration over Vaughn not answering her question. It had been important, right? “Yes, I ache.”

  “We can’t have that.” The heel of his hand pressed against the sensitive spot hidden beneath her skirt, her panties. “Let me play with you here, where I showed you it feels good.”

  “What about you?” she breathed, her spine curving under the onslaught of sensation. Oh…wow. Oh wow. He was so good at everything.

  His knees planted on either side of her right leg, his erection pressing and sliding up and down her thigh. “These legs don’t open for no one but me…knowing that…rubbing against them while I tease your pussy…” His groan raised goose bumps on River’s arms. “Aw, Christ. That’s going to be enough to drain me.”

  For the next half hour, their groans increased in fervor, mouths sliding together, River’s heart expanding until she wasn’t sure she could stand it. It wasn’t until Vaughn left much later that River realized he’d never answered her question.

  Now, with four women in her kitchen drinking coffee and discussing the merits of a Myrtle Beach timeshare, River could tell Vaughn had something to say. She was simultaneously terrified and anxious beyond belief to hear it. The women seemed to sense something interesting was afoot because their chatter cut off, just in time for Vaughn to pound heavily on the door. Even having expected his knock, River jumped, hand flying to her heart.

  “Who’s there?” Marcy singsonged from the table, around a mouthful of grilled cheese. “Is it daddy?”

  The pounding started again as River reached the door, finally ceasing when she unlocked it and slowly pulled it open. Oh…oh, apparently she would never get used to the beauty of Vaughn’s vulnerable side. The evidence flipped her stomach over like a fried egg, sizzling in that certainty. His muscles stood out against the front of his T-shirt, his big, capable hands flexing at his sides. “I got the job,” he murmured. “Security for the factory. He hired me.”

  In an instant, everything that happened that morning poofed into a cloud of dust, making way for a rush of pride so thick she couldn’t speak. They were no longer two arguing adults with years of pain on their backs. They were just River and Vaughn, curled up inside his leather jacket, listening to the rain patter onto the roof of his truck. She stood there, hands fluttering with an attempt to communicate her happiness, before she simply threw herself at Vaughn where he still stood on the porch. “I knew he would. Why wouldn’t he want someone like you? I knew.”

  Vaughn caught her wrists and eased her away, fire burning in his eyes. “I’m happy, too, Riv. I’m happy because now I can help support my family the way I need. The way we need.” His throat worked with a swallow. “But here’s the thing, okay? Here’s the thing. You’re the only one who ever knew I was capable of…anything. If I’d let myself believe you and I’d failed, it would have killed me.” He shook his head. “But I was doing you a disservice, doll. Because if you loved me, I’d already won the world. You see?”

  River’s arms went limp, dropping from Vaughn’s grip, before he picked them back up and rested them on his shoulders, as if he required them to keep going.

  “All the times I’ve been quiet, all the times I might slip and be too quiet in the future, I’m just thinking of ways to keep you. Okay, dammit, River? It’s all I ever think about. Even when I was gone, my brain played the what if game. What if she’s crying and needs me? What if I just climbed back into her window right now? Would she let me stand there and look at her?”

  River didn’t think she could take any more bald, beautiful honesty all at once, but Vaughn plowed on as if he didn’t know how to cap the flow once it started. “No more what ifs, Riv. I need you. I need my family. If that means saying whatever crazy bullshit is on my mind, so be it. On the way home, I was listing all the ways you could get taken away from me. And how I could combat them. Okay? That’s all I got.”

  Ignoring the chorus of feminine sighs coming from the kitchen, she lunged into his hold, pressing and holding her open lips against his neck, attempting to slow her racing pulse. No dice. It rattled on, shaking her body until she felt like a fizzing soda ready to blow its top. “W-why…how could I get taken away from you?”

  Vaughn remained silent a moment. “I was in such a bad way that night, Riv. When I left Hook…and you. There was a lot of ugly in my head.” His hand curved to the back of her skull, tugging her into the crook of his neck. “But I was going to you. I was never going to let go, until—”

  “Sorry to interrupt.”

  It took River a few beats to recognize her father’s voice, coming from the porch behind Vaughn. She cracked the lids of her eyes, taking in the tips of his fishing poles, the unreadable expression on his face. River loved her father like crazy, but in that moment, she wanted him gone, not only because she suspected Vaughn had been ready to shed light on that night at the motel, but because she could feel the stiffness pervading Vaughn’s muscles. Could feel him shutting down inside her hold.

  “Dad,” River said finally, stepping back but taking hold of Vaughn’s hand, some intuition telling her it was necessary. “You’re back. Come on in.”

  “Mr. Purcell.” Vaughn eased aside, allowing her father to enter the house and set down his fishing equipment. “How were the fish biting?”

  “Not as well as they were here, I see.” Her father laughed at his own joke, but no one joined him. “I could use some help bringing in the rest of my gear. Vaughn?”

  Wishing away the sense of dread, River moved forward. “I can do it,” she said, doing a double take when Vaughn let go of her hand.

  “I got it,” Vaughn said quickly, giving her what might have been meant as a reassuring look, but it didn’t come close to accomplishing the task. Her father and Vaughn walked down the steps without speaking, as she looked on, feeling more in the dark than ever.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Vaughn looked down into the empty trunk of River’s father’s car and braced himself for whatever was coming. He could feel River watching from the front window, so he pasted a casual smile on his face. And waited.

  Goddammit. Throughout his entire life, Vaughn had given the middle finger to anyone who tried to get in his way. Except for this man. This man who’d cost him forty-nine months of being with the love of his life. This man who’d cost him the experience of his daughter’s first steps, first tooth, first haircut. Why? Why had he allowed River’s father to dictate his decisions, when he would normally have fought any other son of a bitch who presumed to do the same?

  He’d just answered his own question. It was River’s father. And Vaughn knew what living without family felt like, knew the absence presented itself at the oddest times. Sitting in a diner on Sunday morning, watching families eat pancakes. Or stepping aside to let a family in identical sports jerseys pass on the sidewalk. Yeah. Vaughn knew all about that void, and saving River that pain—any pain—had been his reason for allowing Mr. Purcell to tread on him. For River’s sake.

  Now, wit
h River’s worried gaze tracking his movements, that pattern swallowed him up, forced him to nod respectfully at the man he should hate. Hell, maybe he did. Maybe he hated him more than the devil.

  “I have to say, I’m surprised,” Mr. Purcell began. “I didn’t think you’d come back for Marcy. Thought knowing about her would keep you gone, actually.”

  Sickness invaded Vaughn’s stomach at the thought of shirking a responsibility he celebrated. “I guess that’s proof you don’t know me very well.”

  The older man’s smile pulled tight. “Maybe you’re not as big a coward as your father, but if I remember correctly, you only need a little urging to get gone.”

  “A little urging?” Hearing the ire in his voice, Vaughn closed his eyes and took a long, fortifying breath. Sensing there was another axe about to drop, Vaughn delayed the inevitable by asking the question that had been plaguing him since childhood. “What happened between you and my father?”

  River’s father’s mouth twisted, as if the mere mention of Vaughn’s father disgusted him. “Never told you, did he? I guess you were too young when he split to understand, anyway.” Vaughn ignored the pang in his stomach. “I had a full ride scholarship to Rutgers. Football. I was getting out of this fucking town. And your father—who was supposed to be my teammate—hated me for it. His only options were the factory, or being broke in some other shitty place.”

  Vaughn watched as River’s father yanked up his pant leg, indicating a surgery scar on his right knee.

  “He did this. Last practice of the season, he took a cheap shot at me after the whistle. Your father.” His pointed a shaking finger at Vaughn but was obviously being careful to keep his back turned toward the house, making their conversation seem run-of-the-mill. “I watched you turn into a loser, just like him. Vandalizing property, stealing cars, walking around with a chip on your shoulder. And then you started seeing my daughter.”

 

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