Counting on Cayne (Hallow River Book 1)

by Rome, Ada

  My brain flashed back to an image of Granton saying those exact words. You can’t run away. It had been a threat then, with his nails digging into the underside of my chin and twisting my neck until I could no longer breathe. This time was different. Now it was a question and a plea. Cayne was baring his vulnerable heart and asking me to stay with him. Please don’t run away. Please don’t leave me.

  “I promise. You won’t lose me. Whatever happens, we will be together.” I meant every word as I stared into his soulful green eyes. He kissed me gently on the lips.

  “Good. Because right now I want to show you everything you’ve been missing all these years.” His devilish dimpled smirk reappeared. I couldn’t help but smile in response. He reached over my head and rummaged in the truck’s passenger cab for a few seconds, emerging with a condom.

  “You came prepared,” I joked. My fingers grabbed for his jeans, unhooking the button and unzipping the fly.

  “It was wishful thinking, I suppose.”

  “Well, that wish is about to come true.”

  I lowered his jeans. He kicked them off over his ankles. I massaged my palm against his erection, feeling its impressive size and rigid power through his cotton boxers. Then I flipped the boxers down and over his thighs and coiled my hand around his massive shaft, stroking it while he emitted a throaty growl.

  “Are you absolutely sure you’re ready for this?” he asked, mischief twinkling in his eyes.

  “Give me everything you’ve got.”

  “You asked for it,” he said with a wink and a grin.

  He slid on the condom and positioned himself above me. My heart raced out of control. My breasts and stomach rose and fell with each shuddering breath.

  With a low emphatic groan that sent shivers into my very core, he thrust himself fully and deeply into me, plunging long and thick and hard. He pulled out slowly and pushed in deeper, sliding into my slick wetness with another rumbling growl.

  “I fantasized about this so many times,” he said breathlessly. He pulled out and thrust into me again, even deeper than before, groaning lustily. “You feel amazing.”

  Hot waves of pleasure radiated through every nerve in my body. I threw my head back, closed my eyes, and moaned in a thrilled frenzy. He pushed into me again and again, pumping with increasing force and speed, each plunge bringing me closer to orgasm. I wrapped my legs around his hips and cried out in greedy delight when his fingers began rapidly massaging my swollen clit. My arms flew out to the sides. My nails dug into the fleece of the blankets. My back arched, my taut nipples pointing to the sky. He thrust into me harder and faster, rubbing me with one hand and lifting and squeezing my ass with the other.

  “Don’t stop,” I moaned between breathless gasps. “I’m almost there. Please don’t stop.”

  Our bodies moved in perfect unison. The pressure was building to a climax, his fingers roughly massaging me from the outside and his dick smoothly stroking me from the inside.

  “More,” I whimpered pleadingly. “Harder. Oh my god. Don’t stop. I’m coming.”

  My breath was short and shallow. He slammed into me faster and faster, his hips pounding against my thighs, his fingers alternately tickling and grinding. I gripped folds of blanket and bent my head back, panting and pleading, feeling the pressure build until a rocking surge burst through me. I came with a rasping animal scream. I clenched tight around him. My thighs trembled, and my entire body writhed and tensed in a soul-shaking rush of absolute ecstasy. He plunged deep and long one final time, exhaling in a long guttural moan as he throbbed and released within me.

  We looked into each other’s eyes while our breathing slowed. He rested his head on my chest, my heart beating against his ear, while I smoothed his hair. The lingering electric quivers of pleasure gently subsided into a calming peace. I kissed the top of his head where it lay on my breast.

  He eventually raised himself up and dropped to my side, leaning on one elbow and lazily tracing the curves of my breasts and stomach and hips.

  “I told you that you’d been missing out all these years,” he said quietly.

  “Cayne, I’m sorry that we waited so long to be together.” I corrected myself. “Sorry that I waited so long.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I don’t want you to be sorry. I just want you to be here now.”

  “I meant what I said earlier. About staying. If you only knew what---” My throat closed over the confession. I moved my mouth, but no words came out. Tears welled in the corners of my eyes and threatened to spill over my cheeks.

  “Shhhhh,” he whispered. “Let’s just enjoy this moment. Together.”

  We both lay back and stared up into the night sky. Crickets chirped in the grass. The creek bubbled soothingly over rocks. At some point, we fell asleep in each other’s arms.

  ***

  We awoke in a satisfied daze under a high moon. Cayne dropped me off at my car in front of the diner. I drove home through empty streets, replaying the entire evening in my head and trying not to think of what the future might hold. I wondered if I would be able to keep the promises that I’d made. I wanted to keep them. I wanted nothing more than to remain in Cayne’s strong and protective embrace forever. But the world might have other plans.

  The house was dark and silent. I retrieved my phone from the kitchen table, exactly where I had left it that morning. As I climbed the stairs to my room, I checked my messages. There were three texts, all from Granton. The last one turned my limbs to ice.

  You’re nothing without me. You’re just a dirty whore who fucked me for my money. I treated you like a worthless piece of shit because that’s all that you are and all you’ll ever be.

  I will catch you. I will punish you. I will laugh while you bleed.

  Hope you’ve enjoyed reconnecting with old friends. It’s the last you’ll ever see of them.

  Chapter 7

  “Beatrice. Brinley. LeClare!”

  Aunt Lu’s voice boomed from the kitchen. She was using my real name, a sure sign of trouble. Beatrice Brinley, the maiden name of my grandmother, was also the name on my birth certificate. I’d always gone solely by Brinley. It was one of the reasons that I doubted Granton’s ability to find me. I never told him my real name. After the previous night’s texts, I wondered if my doubts were mistaken.

  I was still in pajamas when I trotted down the stairs and rounded the banister. I wasn’t due at the diner until 11:00. My brain was groggy from lack of sleep. Worry over Granton’s messages had vied with pleasurable thoughts of Cayne to keep me up until sunrise.

  When I peeked around the doorframe of the kitchen, I saw Aunt Lu seated at the table, her hands neatly folded. A mug of coffee steamed in front of her and another in front of the seat that I was presumably intended to occupy.

  She wore a bright yellow shirt embroidered with a smattering of bumble bees. From my observations thus far, Aunt Lu seemed to prefer wardrobe pieces with an element of whimsy despite being one of the least whimsical people I had ever known. She stared into the coffee like it was a crystal ball. I slid fully around the doorjamb. She looked up and caught my eye, nodding at the empty seat across the table.

  “Brinley, I need to talk to you.”

  Her voice sounded unexpectedly gentle. I pulled out the chair and sat on its edge. My knees jumped up and down in a nervous fidget. I wrapped my palms around the coffee mug, taking comfort from its warmth. Aunt Lu’s expression was solemn and pained. She opened her mouth to speak but remained silent. She took another minute to collect her thoughts as the clock ticked loudly on the wall behind me. Then she breathed deeply and began.

  “You left your phone here yesterday.”

  My stomach dropped into my shoes. I kept my face still as a stone statue while my heart fluttered like a bird. I knew what she was going to say next.

  “I saw your messages.”

  The clock ticked seconds away into the silence. I gripped the coffee mug to prevent my hands from trembling. My throat felt hot and constricted. She
was waiting for me to speak, but my vocal chords were squeezed tight by fear.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to look at them,” she continued, shifting her eyes downward and rubbing her hands together. “I was cleaning the table and they were just there, right in front of me.”

  I winced with guilt when she apologized. I should have been the one apologizing for showing up on her doorstep with no explanation and a heart full of secrets.

  “Brinley, you know that I love you like a daughter.” Her blue eyes misted with tears, but she cleared her throat and continued. “When you were gone all those years, I hoped that you were happy. I wanted to see you. I wished that you would come back and visit. When you didn’t, year after year, I thought it was because you were busy living the life that you wanted to live. That was enough for me, even though I missed you terribly.” She lowered her head for a moment. “Was that not true? Was I wrong all this time?”

  I reached out and grabbed her hand. Her skin was velvety and dry. I stared down at the scratched table surface, willing my emotions to stay in check and my tears not to flow. Once they started, they would never stop.

  My head nodded slightly. She squeezed my hand. I looked up and found her eyes searching my face with a penetrating focus.

  “I need you to tell me right now,” she said in a voice that had suddenly cooled to a lethal calm. “Who is Granton Langley, and where do I find him so that I can aim my shotgun straight at his balls and shoot them clean off if he ever comes near you again?”

  Her words hit me with the shock of a grenade. I almost laughed and cried at the same time. A barrier had been broken with one swift hammer blow. My wall of shame and guilt crumbled beneath a roaring wave of truth. I held tight to her hand and told my story for the first time.

  “I met Granton Langley seven years ago. I had been happy until then. I was struggling, of course. Dancing jobs were few and far between. I guess I had a touch of big fish syndrome when I left Hallow River. I thought I was a star. When I got to New York, I discovered that my talent was not so special and that I was only one of thousands. But still, I was happy. I earned enough money waitressing to afford rent in an apartment that I shared with three other girls. We lived on ramen noodles. We saw each other through auditions, celebrated our victories, and drank away our losses. I certainly wasn’t living my dreams yet, but I hoped that I soon would be.”

  I hesitated, gathering strength. Aunt Lu nodded, encouraging me to continue.

  “Granton found me waitressing at a cocktail party. He’s a big shot in the world of finance. He’s handsome and charming and rich. He pursued me, wined and dined me, and told me that he adored me. He seemed like everything a girl could ever want. He made me feel like I was the most beautiful woman in the world. I moved into his penthouse. It was a palace. He bought me expensive gowns and jewelry and took me to exciting places. When I look back now, I realize that I was just a prop. He dressed me up like a doll and paraded me around like a prize.”

  “After a few months, his behavior toward me started to change. I hadn’t given up on my dancing career yet. I still went to auditions, but rejections left me discouraged. Whenever I failed to land a part, he told me that it was because I was too fat and that I had no talent anyway. He laughed as he pinched my hips and thighs. He told me that I would never make it as a dancer, not in this body. He said that I was lucky to have him because I would never survive on my own. I believed him. I doubted myself in a way that I never had before. Anxiety creeped into every audition. I expected failure and knew that I would have to face Granton’s laughter and insults afterwards. That’s when I stopped dancing completely.”

  I paused and nervously scratched my nails along the scuff marks on the tabletop. Looking back now, I wondered how those relatively small attacks could have torn down my confidence so quickly and caused me to give up so readily on my dream. But when someone chips relentlessly away at your sense of self, it takes an unmistakable toll. Besides, those were just the opening shots of Granton’s war on my psyche. Much worse was to come. I pressed my fidgeting hand flat on the table and continued.

  “He became obsessive about my movements. He interrogated me about everything I did, every place I went, and every person I saw. He hired a photographer to follow me. He threw a batch of pictures in my face, claiming that I was cheating on him when I had coffee with a friend or chatted with a stranger on the street. I threatened to leave. He begged me to stay. He said that he was only jealous because he loved me and that I was the one hurting him. I stayed even though I knew that it was wrong. I stopped talking to people. I looked over my shoulder whenever I left the house. Granton became the center of my world even as his moods became increasingly erratic and unpredictable. I never knew whether he was going to be nasty or kind, vicious or loving. I was kept off balance. The first time he hit me---”

  I stopped. My breath caught in my throat. Aunt Lu’s lips pursed and her eyes burned with anger. She squeezed my hand reassuringly. I took a sip of coffee to settle my nerves.

  “We’d gone to a party. On the ride home, he berated me for making him look foolish with something I’d said. I had no idea what he was talking about. I told him that he was being ridiculous. When I stepped through the front door, a blinding flash of pain pounded through the side of my face. I was on the floor before I even realized what had happened. Granton was standing over me and shaking his fist. I tasted blood in my mouth. Droplets of it had sprayed onto my dress when he hit me. I was too stunned to speak or even to breathe. He just walked away and left me lying on the ground.”

  “Of course, the next day, he was all apologies. He said that he loved me and that it would never happen again. He bought me a new designer dress to replace the one spattered with blood. He acted genuinely sorry. Then a few weeks later, he pushed me against a wall and punched me in the stomach. He blamed me and said that he wouldn’t need to hurt me if I would only love him more. It happened over and over again. He fractured my cheekbone when he slammed my head against a marble counter. He threw me to the ground, held me down, and punched me until I passed out. He strangled me until I thought that I was going to die. Then he begged for my forgiveness. He told me that he couldn’t live without me. He showered me with apologies and gifts. The car, for instance.”

  I jerked my chin toward the window to indicate the silver racer parked out front. I took a deep breath. This was more than I had ever told anyone about my life with Granton. It felt both liberating and frightening.

  “The cycle went on for years, through ups and downs. Sometimes months would go by perfectly normally. To the world, we were a happy couple. Then one day, he would turn on a dime and start yelling and hitting. I think he liked to keep me guessing, wondering when he was going to strike next.”

  “Why didn’t you tell anyone? Why didn’t you tell me?” Aunt Lu asked. Her forehead was creased with concern and her eyes registered a profound sympathy.

  “I was ashamed. I internalized the blame and was embarrassed that I had allowed myself to become a victim. I knew that people would ask me why I’d stayed with him. I couldn’t answer that question for myself, let alone for anyone else. It had nothing to do with the money. I didn’t care about that. But people would judge. They always do. Part of me believed him when he said that he loved me while another part of me knew that it was a lie. I lived for the scraps of his affection. I felt worthless. It sounds bizarre and insane, but I had come to believe that I deserved to be treated this way. Most of all, I felt like I had let everyone down, you and Uncle George and everyone who really cared about me. That’s why I never came back. That’s why I never said a word.”

  Memories that had been trickling steadily into my consciousness now burst through in a flood. Ghosts of the panic and terror that had overwhelmed me for all those years now threatened to choke me into silence. Nightmares buried deep within my mind rose to the surface and crashed across my vision. I recalled every punch and kick, every gash and broken bone, every time I was dragged across the floor o
r thrown against a wall, every time I was made to feel less than human and every time I was desperately afraid.

  My stomach heaved. I rose abruptly and ran to the sink, leaning over it with my hands pressed flat on the counter. Aunt Lu followed and gently placed her palm on my back.

  “It’s alright,” she crooned. My spinning head began to right itself. The awful visions subsided under her soothing influence. I stared hard at the tiled backsplash to maintain my composure.

  “I was also scared. He told me that he would punish me if I ever told anyone. He held a knife to my throat and said that he would kill me if I ever tried to leave. But one day, I just knew that he was going to kill me if I stayed. That’s when I made the decision to escape. I was terrified. I packed a few belongings in secret, took the car, and sped down the interstate. This was the only place that I could think to go, the only place that I wanted to go.”

  My tears began to flow. Aunt Lu wrapped me in an embrace. I wept on her shoulder with an abandon that I had not allowed myself in years. After several minutes, I quieted down and wiped my soaked cheeks with the backs of my hands. Aunt Lu held my shoulders firmly and looked directly into my tear-rimmed eyes.

  “What are you going to do now?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” I sighed. “You saw the texts. I can’t stay here. He’ll find me. I’m putting everyone that I love in danger. You, Cayne---”

  “Cayne?” she asked.

  I realized with a jolt the truth of the confession I’d just made. I was falling in love with Cayne. But that was a part of the story I wasn’t yet ready to share with Aunt Lu. I shook my head. She allowed it to pass.

  “Brinley, listen to me. You’re not going anywhere.” She grasped both of my hands in hers. “You are staying right here. You are not running and you are not hiding from this monster. If he comes, we will face him together. Do you understand me?”