by Dani René
“M-my grandmother,” I mumble the words, but I don’t need to finish my sentence. He knows me. He finishes my sentences most times, and this is one of those moments I’m thankful for our connection.
“I’m so sorry, my little star,” he coos, and I watch as his long, dark lashes flutter against his cheeks. Cassian kisses my cheek before he pulls me closer. He hugs me to him. He holds me through another bout of my sobs, and even though I’m wracked with heartache, it’s Cassian who keeps me afloat.
It’s in this moment, right here, in the dark, that I realize I’m in love with my best friend. A boy who’s three years my senior. A boy who makes my heart tumble wildly. And a boy I know I’ll love forever.
It’s been a few days since the secret meeting with Cassian in the cemetery, and I’ve been avoiding going anywhere near Thorne Manor, or town. I’m still anxious about being back in this beautifully gothic town that gave me a second chance when I needed it most. Even though I should be less stressed since Cassian and I have had it out, mostly, I feel ill at ease.
The familiar thump in my brain confirms last night was either a late one or one of the evenings that Paulo felt I needed something more to get me to bed. It happens more often now than it did when we met.
Even though he’s put on a smile, offered his help, there’s something deeply evil about the man who sleeps beside me. And even though I have no way of getting out now, I know I’m in danger.
My family comes first. Dad’s health is my main priority, so if Paulo says he’ll happily help us, I believe him. I trust he’ll ensure my father’s medical trials go as planned. Even though I haven’t ever asked where the money comes from, I gratefully accept it because I know Dad needs it.
Pushing from the bed, I stand on shaky legs, and my head spins for a moment before I focus on the sun streaming through the window. I lift my hands and find them trembling, as usual, before I’ve had my coffee.
At times it feels like I need a high to get through the day. It’s my own fault. This is what I’ve done to myself since I fell down the rabbit hole when I was sixteen, and I’ve never escaped. The feeling of flying, of freedom, of not feeling the pain has always been far too alluring.
So, I did it.
I allowed myself to jump headfirst into the abyss, and I haven’t pulled myself out of it. Cassian tried, so many times, but I didn’t allow him to fully save me. Instead, I gave him a false sense of security. I made him feel like a hero when he was nothing more than a life raft. As soon as I let go of him, I fell under again.
Taking in the brightness of the room, I can’t help but groan. I’m almost certain I closed the curtains last night, but perhaps I didn’t. Spending all my time in the house probably isn’t the best thing to do, but I know if I were to head into town, I’d probably run into a Thorne or one of the Haven brothers. Even though I love Thorne Haven, I’ve always felt as if I’m an outsider. The only person who welcomed me was him.
I make my way to the bathroom and freshen up before I pad barefoot down to the kitchen. I find Paulo at his laptop when I step through the door.
“I figured you’d sleep all day,” he remarks when I head to the coffee machine and flick it on as I settle a mug underneath. Instead of answering, I focus on getting my caffeine.
Last night was one of those nights, where he was angry because he’s stuck here, when he wants to be in LA. Even though I didn’t need him here, he insisted on coming, but in the end, it’s my fault. Like everything else is.
“I’m going to head into town today,” I say, but I don’t look at him. My body isn’t strong anymore. I don’t have the fight in me that I used to have. So, I focus on my mug that’s now filled with dark liquid.
“And where are you intending on spending the day?” Paulo questions, his voice lilting with dark intent. If I were to tell him I’m hoping to see Cassian, I’ll be bound to the bed upstairs and high on whatever he decides to inject into my veins.
“My friend, Genevieve,” I lie. She’s not a friend, merely an acquaintance I grew up hating. Not because she did anything to me, but because she was best friends with the Thornes. Her connection to them turned into something more when she and the eldest brother, Damien, started hooking up. And then, they were all in her sights.
But, as much as I can’t stand her, she’s a lesser evil than Paulo. So I close my eyes and pray he doesn’t delve deeper into my reasoning.
“I don’t want you out late,” he says, but the clicking of the keys on his laptop is evidence that he’s not bothered because I mentioned the name of a woman. “Perhaps bring her here,” he suggests, his voice turning gentle, and I know why he’s saying that.
There’s no hiding that the man I agreed to marry cheats. I’ve seen him with other women. Granted, it was when we were in LA, and at those parties, he’d always ensured I wasn’t focused on what he was doing. He knew when to give me something to keep me compliant. Whether it was in my drink or a pill, Paulo was well versed in keeping women at his beck and call.
Most times, I thought I was imagining things. At least, that’s what he used to tell me I was doing.
“I’ll see if she’d like to have dinner with us,” I offer before sipping my drink. My gaze lingers on the garden behind the house because I can’t look at my soon-to-be husband. If I do, I’ll break down and cry.
Cassian saw us together at the party, and deep down, I wonder if he was jealous. Most people assume we’re happily engaged, but they don’t truly know me. Cassian does, and he surely knows the truth. And that is, I’m a prisoner in my own home. The pain I’ve endured, the drugs that have been forced upon me, are not of my choosing, not anymore.
When I wanted to go to rehab, I begged my parents. They agreed; only when Paulo walked in and promised them the world, pledged to pay for my dad’s treatments, did I realize my life would never be the same.
And even then, I didn’t fight it.
I played the dutiful fiancée, which brings me here, to Thorne Haven, to a place I never thought I’d see again. And it brings me back to why my heart is broken.
“Don’t be out late,” Paulo says again, but he’s still working, so all I do is offer a nod and hastily make my way to the bedroom to change. I pull on a pair of jeans and a long, flowing tee, which covers my slight curves.
I’m no longer the vivacious girl Cassian will remember. Now, I’m nothing more than a waif that has a bad past. In the car, I pull away from the house with my breath still filling my lungs, trying to ignore the fact that I’m sure Paulo is watching from one of the windows.
I don’t race, though. Instead, I take a slow drive down the cobblestone driveway until I reach the gate, which slides open. Once I’m on the road, I put my foot on the gas and head away from town.
It’s time I came face-to-face with Cassian again, but this time, I’m going to be the one calling the shots. Before I head home later, I’ll go see Gen, talk to her, and pray she doesn’t tell me to go to hell.
I don’t have friends in this town.
There isn’t anyone I can run to when I need something. It used to only be Cass, and when he was busy, I would face whatever it was alone. High. But alone.
By the time I pull up to Thorne Manor, I’m shaking like a leaf. Perhaps I should’ve eaten something before coming here, but spending one more moment with Paulo would’ve sent me over the edge. And that would’ve only led to more drugs, which I don’t need right now.
What I do need is the brutal truth.
Exiting the car, I find Finn sauntering out of the house with keys swinging on his index finger. “Oh,” he says, a smile playing on his lips, “now this is a sight I didn’t expect so early in the morning.”
“I need to see Cass.” My voice breaks, the croakiness causing the words to sound more pained than confident, and I clear my throat in the hopes he didn’t notice.
“He’s inside. Kitchen,” Finn says before saluting me. “Good luck.” By the time he disappears, I’m nervous once more, but I force myself to head into
the house that’s brought me so much happiness but also so many tears.
Time to face my past.
14
Cassian
When footsteps sound behind me, I turn around, and I’m struck speechless. Standing on the threshold of my kitchen is a girl, no, a woman, I didn’t expect to see.
“What are you doing here?”
She winces at my question, and I realize it sounded as if I were accusing her. Perhaps I am. Maybe I want her to feel pain just because I was hurt at what she said about me.
It’s petty.
I know it is, but I can’t stop myself from feeling like that, as if she needs to pay. But then when I look at her, when I remember what happened the night of the party, I realize she’s already paying.
“I needed to see you,” she finally answers, her voice taut, her hands tangling as she regards me from under her long dark lashes. She’s so beautiful, it hurts to look at her; it’s as if looking directly at the sun. The brightness is just too much for the naked eye.
“Why? Isn’t your fiancé going to get angry and jealous you’re here, still wanting me while you’re wearing his ring?” My words hurt her, it’s clear on her pretty face, but I don’t take it back.
Maybe I’m the jealous one.
It’s me who needs to rein it in.
“Cassian, I’m not with him for love,” she admits, stepping closer to where I’m leaning against the countertop. She stops near me, close enough for me to inhale her sweet scent—roses and candy. It’s a heady mixture of sweet and floral, and I bask in it for a long moment before she says, “You’ve always been—”
Her words taper off into heavy silence. It’s always been like this with us, back and forth, tension and angst following us like a cloud, reminding us that we’re supposed to be together.
But I always pushed her away. I made sure she never got too close. At least, that’s what I tell myself. But there were times we did get close, and I almost lost control.
I set down my mug and take that last step toward her. “Are you telling me every time he touches you, each time he kisses you and fucks your tight little cunt, you think of me?”
Another wince. She doesn’t move when I reach up to grip her chin between my thumb and forefinger. When I force her eyes to land on mine, I see emotion dancing wildly like flames in a breeze.
“Yes.” One word. The admission I’d been waiting for. It’s barely a whisper, but I heard her. My cock thickens in my jeans, throbbing against my zipper. I want to be inside her so badly, my blood zings with lust.
“And when you come for him?” I challenge, pushing her to admit her feelings for me even though I shouldn’t. But I do it because I want to hear the words fall from her lips. I need to listen to her voice, her desire for me.
“You’re the only man I ever wanted,” she confesses while I hold onto her. It’s only a small connection, but it’s weighty. I release her chin before sliding my hand to the back of her neck, and I pull her closer. “But I can’t cheat,” she throws out quickly as my lips brush along hers.
“You won’t cheat on a bastard like him?” I taunt, a sly grin curling my lips at the soft gasp that tumbles from her mouth.
“As much as I want this,” she tells me earnestly, her voice raw with emotion, “I’ll not be the one in the wrong.” Her palms land on my chest, the heat of her touch scorching me.
A split-second decision and I swipe my thumb along her lips, the plump flesh under my touch sends raw desire through my veins. I’m close enough to take what I want. I could kiss her, even if she doesn’t agree to it.
But I’m not a rogue.
And she means too much to me for me to force my hand.
“Then leave him,” I finally murmur. It’s almost a plea, and I’m certain she hears the imploring in my tone. “You know you don’t belong to him. He’s nothing more than a substitute for what you really want.”
This time, I’m gifted with a smile, one that used to make my chest ache. For so long, I’ve allowed my anger to blind me to her. But right now, in this moment, we’re Cass and Kaly from all those years ago. With no lies, no highs, and no fucking fiancés.
“There are things you don’t know,” she finally whispers. “I can’t tell you, but you need to believe me; if I could walk away, I would.” What she doesn’t realize is I know all about what Paulo is doing, why she’s with him. She also has no idea that I’m going to ensure he’s out of the picture. Once my plans are in place, I’ll do it.
“Then leave.” My voice is firm, the order clear. I step away from her, the air suddenly free of her sweet scent. How I wish I could bottle her fragrance and smell it whenever I please. For now, I’ll live without it. But my mind has been made up.
She’s mine.
And I’m not letting her go without a fight.
“I’m not going to just walk away from you, Cass. I came here—” She shakes her head. “I just need you to know I—”
“I said leave.” Schooling my features, I sip my coffee, arching a brow at her, which only makes her tip her chin toward me. Defiance shimmers in her eyes, but she doesn’t sass me, she doesn’t offer a retort. For now, she leaves, and my chest aches as I watch her walk out.
Hours later, as the sun sets, I glance up and stretch. I’ve not been focused on work all day because all I can think about is Kaly. I should be working on the figures for Thorne Industries, but each time I look at the screen, I pull up photos of Kalyn. Her career is doing well; she’s the face of her own clothing line, along with movies that have sold out in box offices worldwide. However, there is still something niggling at me.
It’s not anger, not anymore. No, there’s more to her story than meets the eye. With Harris looking into why she’s back, and researching the fiancé, I should be able to relax, but I can’t.
An idea pops into my head, and I pick up the phone, hitting dial on my assistant’s number before I can rethink this.
“Mr. Thorne, how can I help?”
I shouldn’t do this. It’s not my game to play, but there’s only one way I’m going to get Kalyn alone. We need to talk. The party wasn’t the time or place to hash out the past, but the forest behind Thorne Manor is. “I need one red rose on my desk in the next hour.”
“I… uhm… okay, I can do that.” Confusion in her voice is clear, but I hang up because I don’t need to explain myself. I’ll have the burnt rose sent to Kaly, a sign that I want to talk, an invite for her to meet me, or not. It will ultimately be her choice, and there are no guarantees that she will come. But deep down, my intuition tells me she’ll be there.
15
Kalyn
The bedroom door whooshes open as I set down my makeup and glance at Paulo. He’s leaning against the door frame, his arms folded, and the look on his face is nothing short of rage.
“What’s wrong?” I push to my feet, wondering if I need to placate him or to run and hide. When he gets like this, there’s no talking to him, but if I can say something to calm him down, then perhaps it will save me a world of hurt.
“This arrived for you,” he sneers, unfolding his arms; I notice a box in his hand that has a black ribbon tied around it. The shimmery silk looks expensive, and when he hands me the box, I tug at the bow. Lifting the lid, I have a feeling I know what I’ll find, and just like I thought, lying on a soft satin interior is the burnt red rose.
The fragile bud looks like it’s been incinerated, but strangely enough, it’s still kept its shape. The stem is long, free from leaves, but there is a pattern of thorns that twist around the thin, blackened stalk.
“Who’s sent you this, darling?”
There’s no card, but I know exactly where this came from. However, I cannot tell Paulo, because he’ll only lose his mind, and when he does that, I have no choice but to obey.
“I’m not sure,” I lie, but I don’t meet his eyes. This man has been around me for the better part of two years, and when I’m lying, it’s as if he can sniff me out. He knows when I’m sad, happy,
and when I’m telling him lies to hide something. I turn for my dresser, setting the box down gently, taking in the burnt invitation.
“If I find out you’re lying to me, Kalyn,” Paulo says from behind me, his large body looming over mine. The heat of his chest at my back, sending shockwaves of fear skittering down my spine, “You know it will be dangerous for you.” The threat is clear.
Without another word, he steps away, leaving me shivering, as he shuts the bedroom door behind him. Alone again, I take a long, deep breath and stare down at the rose. Cassian wants to meet; perhaps he’ll finally exact his revenge on me. I thought for sure he would’ve done something the night of the party, in front of everyone, including my fiancé, but then again, he never was one for public displays; he’d rather find his pleasure alone, in the dark.
And his gratification, this time, will be making me pay for what I did.
Paulo has held so many things over my head since we met. I was young, innocent, and stupid when I first walked into the studio to pose for him. And when he realized I was merely prey to his predatory gaze, he took advantage. I fell into the lifestyle of the rich and famous, partying every weekend, enjoying the life I’d been given. Little did I know it all came with a cost.
At least, I should have known.
But I lost myself in the drugs, and when Paulo realized he could easily sway me with a pill, a line of white, or a joint, he took control. After the first year, I was hooked, taking in the highs with the lows. That’s when my father got sick, when I broke down once more, and Paulo was there to pick up the pieces.
At first, I thought he was my hero. The man who swooped in when I least expected and would make everything okay. Even after the previous year, I hoped for the best. But when Paulo’s true colors shone through, when I saw the monster behind the handsome façade, I realized my mistake.