Octavian's Undoing (Sons of Judgment)

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Octavian's Undoing (Sons of Judgment) Page 14

by Airicka Phoenix


  Riley shook her head, laughing. “You guys are so weird.”

  “Nah, we’re normal. Everyone else is messed up.”

  Having never had siblings, Riley had to take his word for it. “I just always thought twins were supposed to be all telepathic and nice to each other.”

  Gideon looked up, eyes round. “Don’t we seem nice to each other?”

  She had to wrinkle her nose at that. “Not really.”

  He snorted, going back to his papers. “Those jackasses know I love them. As for the twin thing.” He glanced back at her. “You share a balloon with him for nine months kicking and punching you. Then we’ll talk.”

  Riley could only laugh. “I used to want siblings so badly when I was younger.” But that wish had faded quickly when she’d turned eight and became thankful she didn’t have to provide for more than two people.

  “Yeah? Did we turn you off the idea?” he teased.

  She forced a grin, she replied, “So turned off.”

  He crumpled a page and pitched it at her, missing by a mile. “Well, like I said, I have three left over. Take your pick.”

  Octavian! She bit back the urge to blurt the name out loud. She totally did not want Octavian as a sibling. The feelings she had for him were so not one she would ever have for a brother. She thought of her dreams and that morning in bed. Nope. So totally not the way she would love a brother.

  “Wouldn’t you miss them?” she wondered.

  He barked a laugh. “Miss them? I’d throw a damn party!”

  “Liar.”

  He shot to his feet and stretched his lean frame. “Well, you’ll never know.” He gave her a wink from over his shoulder, making her shake her head at him. “Okay?”

  Taken off guard, Riley looked up. “What?”

  He gestured with his chin towards her arm. “You’ve been scratching that spot for the last half hour.”

  Bemused, Riley glanced down, surprised that she’d rolled up her sleeve at some point and nearly peeled the skin off her forearm. Blood had begun to run down her arm. It was caked beneath her nails and smeared her hand.

  “Oh!” She leapt to her feet, clipboard dropping from her lap to clutter to the ground. “I don’t—”

  Gideon was there in an instant, taking her arm. “Come on.”

  He led her out of the room, through the kitchen and into the dining area where Reggie had made a massive mess pulling everything out from beneath the counter.

  “Where’s Mom?” Gideon asked, still holding tight to Riley.

  Reggie looked up and Riley was surprised to find a pair of bright red glasses perched on his nose. “Office. Why—?”

  But Gideon had already backtracked, pushing through the kitchen doors and across the room at speeds that forced Riley to run to keep up.

  “I’m okay,” she shouted at his back. “I must have just been allergic to the dust or something.”

  He didn’t respond, but shoved the door to the corridor open and forced her through. Riley remembered this journey from the last time she’d been there with Octavian. But rather than turn left, Gideon took her right. They followed the winding maze deep into the bowels of the house until Riley began to wonder if he was taking her the long way to China. Who needed to go for walks in the morning when they just needed to walk from one end of that place to the other?

  Finally, after what felt like hours, he pulled her into a lavishly furnished office.

  “Mom!” Gideon called.

  Kyaerin’s head came up from behind one of the two massive desks, blue eyes big and round behind her glasses. “Gideon? What is it?”

  Riley was shoved forward without an explanation.

  Kyaerin took one look at her arm and her face went slack. “Oh dear.” She tore off her glasses, tossed them on the desk and hurried over.

  “I’m okay,” Riley tried to assure her. “I think it was just the dust or something, but really, I’m fine.”

  “It’s all right, darling. Come on.” Kyaerin smiled, but the gesture was visibly forced as it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She took Riley’s arm lightly and guided her to the neat little sitting area organized on the opposite end of the room from the desks.

  Riley was shoved into the armchair as Kyaerin shot orders at Gideon. He inclined his head, pivoted on his heels and left at a near run.

  “Seriously.” Riley laughed. “I’m not dying. It’s just a rash.”

  Kyaerin touched her hair, smoothing strands back from her face to tuck behind her ear. “I’m a natural born worrier, so let me worry.”

  A feeling of unease swept through her, a pang of uncertainty as she tried to get her brain to work with her body and relax. The oddity of allowing another person to take care of her, to worry about her was a novelty she was not accustomed to.

  “It’s just a—”

  Kyaerin laughed. “How does your mother put up with you?”

  Riley shifted higher in her seat. She dropped her gaze to her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “I don’t have one.”

  Kyaerin’s smile faded. She knelt at Riley’s feet and gently rested a hand on her knee. “I—”

  It may have been a tired old apology for something Kyaerin had no hand in, or it could have been something else, but whatever she was about to say was interrupted by Gideon’s return with a basket and towel in hand. A step behind him, Octavian clad in nothing but miles of beautiful gold skin, wet, shiny hair and a towel.

  Holy shit.

  Riley’s jaw slackened as all thoughts of her arm were forgotten, exchanged instead by the glorious scene of Octavian with his dark hair swept back from a freshly shaven face. Beads of water rolled off the sleek strands, trailing down his broad shoulders and clinging to chiseled breast plates and the hard contours of his cheese grater abs. God, he had the body for dirty dreams and long, slow nights. Memories of her dream flashed before her eyes, images of that body moving over her. She could still feel the roll and ripple of his back muscles beneath her palms as she held him to her, returning his fevered kisses as his hands roamed to all the right places, setting her blood on blaze.

  She expelled a shaky breath. The room had upped in temperature, climbing to an unbearable swelter. She wondered if anyone else felt it, or if she was the only one flushed and uncomfortable in her seat.

  “Riley?”

  She jumped, caught completely unaware staring at his midsection. The heat became suffocating with mortification as she quickly jerked her gaze upwards to his eyes and the concern racing across his face.

  “What happened?” In three long strides, he was at her side.

  Dear God, please make him put a shirt on or pants. She begged uselessly to the heavens. But the folks upstairs must have been too busy to answer her prayers. All that masculine beauty was mere inches from brushing her shoulder. One tiny lean to the left and she could nuzzle the hard squares of his abdomen. She could kiss his breast plates, touch his chin with her lips, run her fingers through his hair and draw him down to her. More than that, she could hook a finger in the towel and…

  “Does it hurt?”

  God yes…

  “What?” she stupidly blurted instead. “Oh, uh, no.” She moistened her lips and tried to look away, to look at anything but him. But his body had become a magnet, drawing her hungry eyes to him against her will. “I should get back to work—”

  “Just hold still, sweetie.” Kyaerin tugged on Riley’s arm, forcing her to stay in place as she set her arm on the towel and began dabbing the claw marks with a thick, white cream that smelled of something sweet, not necessarily a flower, but close.

  “I’m really sorry about this,” Riley said. “I honestly have no idea what happened.”

  Kyaerin smiled understandingly at her. “It’s all right. No harm done. Well, except to yourself.”

  “I’ve never been allergic to dust before,” she went on as Kyaerin massaged ointment into her skin. “I’m allergic to peanuts, but nothing else as far as I know.”

  “It sometimes happens
,” Kyaerin said. “Liam’s father loved oysters his entire life. That’s all he would eat. Then, one day, he broke out in hives and began swelling up.”

  It was possible for people to develop allergies after a great deal of exposure to something, but it would really suck if she became allergic to dust of all things. The stuff was everywhere. She’d have to get a plastic bubble to avoid it. It was why she always pitied people with pollen allergies. There was just no getting away from the stuff.

  “I still don’t understand how I didn’t notice I was scratching it.”

  “Because I distracted you with my awesomeness,” Gideon supplied, making Riley laugh.

  “That has to be it.”

  Kyaerin stepped back, studying her handiwork with a tilt of her head. “Octavian, why don’t you wrap it for me, while I—”

  “I can’t.”

  Riley looked up at him, but he was staring at his mother, his jaw set tight.

  Kyaerin seemed as confused as Riley felt, but unlike Riley, she seemed to understand quickly and nodded. “Oh, of course, go get dressed. Gideon, could you…?”

  Without looking at Riley, Octavian turned on his heels and marched back the way he’d come.

  Kyaerin grimaced sheepishly. “I didn’t even notice.”

  Riley said nothing, not trusting herself not to blurt something stupid like, oh my libido and I noticed. Thank you very much.

  Gideon saved her by moving to take his mother’s place as she went to wash her hands. His fingers were quick and agile as they wrapped her arm.

  “Do this kind of thing a lot?” Riley teased as he deftly tucked the end into the bandage.

  Gideon grinned. “I have brothers… we keep the medical supply companies in business. How’s that? Too tight?”

  Riley shook her head, flexing her arm. “No, that’s fine. Thank you.”

  Kyaerin returned a moment later to examine his handiwork. She nodded approvingly. “Lovely.” She patted Riley’s knee. “Why don’t you go wash up and then we’ll find something else for you to do.”

  Riley thanked her and Gideon as she slipped off the chair. She walked quickly to the door just as Octavian emerged, clad in black sweats and a gray top with water stains around the shoulders and collar. He was still barefoot and still managed to inspire lusty thoughts from her just from the sight of him.

  Man did her issues have no limits?

  Gray eyes lifted, finding hers through damp fringes. Riley’s heart tripped, stumbling over itself as their eyes met and time slowed. A deep longing wedged just behind the pull in her abdomen, a longing to reach across the thin distance and touch him, to let her fingers glide over the veins pressing up through the gold skin of his forearm. She wanted to trace them to the crock of his inner elbow as she leaned into his chest and pressed her lips to his chin. It was such a small thing, but the ache was almost physical. The drive was undeniable. She almost did it. Her fingers twitched at her sides before she closed them around the material of her slacks, restraining them. Her lips opened even as her mind remained stubbornly blank. But she was saved from making an idiot of herself by Magnus.

  “Orders made.” He stalked into the room behind Octavian. “The shipment should arrive Friday.”

  Reorganizing the basket of bottles and creams, Kyaerin glanced up. “Do we have enough until then?”

  Riley blocked the rest out, so not interested in meat orders.

  “How are you feeling?” Octavian murmured.

  Riley shrugged. “I’m okay.”

  His gaze dropped to the band aid around her arm.

  “It doesn’t hurt,” she told him, catching the flicker of regret in his eyes. “I don’t feel anything.”

  He raised his eyes to her face once more, darkness shadowing them. “I wish you’d listened to me, Green-eyes.”

  Riley frowned. “About what?”

  He exhaled heavily, raising a hand and raking the fingers through his hair. “Everything.”

  Then he walked away, leaving her suffocating in the emptiness welling up inside her, and questioning the wisdom of longing for a man with such a cryptic way of keeping her at arm’s length.

  Chapter 11

  “What are your plans for tomorrow, Riley?” Kyaerin had asked her the day before as Riley had gathered her things and prepared to leave work.

  Riley had shrugged, anticipation brightening her face with a smile. “I don’t know. It’s my first day off. I think I want to do something fun and spontaneous.”

  My. Ass. Riley thought as she lay staring up at her ceiling. She had yet to even climb out of bed and it was already after ten. Early, yes, but she had no drive to actually do more than she already was, which pissed her off. She had a twenty dollar bill in her purse just begging to be spent on something frivolous and fun and her mind was drawing a blank.

  Maybe she’d buy something nice to wear, something sexy. She didn’t have anything like that. Everything she owned was simple and conservative. Not that she was a prude, but she always found herself shying away from the bright and flashy. Anything that drew attention. Maybe she’d buy something bold and extravagant. Something that said look at me, I’m hot!

  In her mind’s eye, a green dress flashed. But she didn’t own any green dresses. It must have been something she’d seen somewhere in passing. Maybe she’d buy it if she saw it again. But something told her a dress like that would cost way more than twenty bucks. So she pushed that idea out of her head and went back to brainstorming.

  It had been so long since she’d contemplated fun that she didn’t even know what she liked doing. She had no hobbies or favorite places and she hadn’t watched TV in so long that she didn’t even know what movies were at the theater. She considered going to the bookstore and rummaging through the bargain bin. But she was so far behind on all her favorite books that she wouldn’t know which to buy first. Plus, one did not just walk into a bookstore with a measly twenty dollars. It was just not done.

  Exasperated, she rolled out of bed, deciding she may as well at least start by getting out of bed and dressed.

  Freshly showered and dressed, she left her room, wandering down the hall to the kitchen with the mindset to grab her purse and coat and leave. Instead, she froze on the threshold at the scene within.

  Her father sat at the table, the paper in one hand, a pen in the other and a look of pure determination on his face.

  Hope leapt into her chest even as she braced herself. “Hey Dad, what are you doing?”

  Please say job hunting!

  Without looking up, he tapped the paper with the end of his pen. “Trying to solve this weekend’s crossword. I swear it gets harder every week.”

  Riley’s shoulders drooped. The spark of hope shriveled up and died. Well, she had no one to blame but herself for jumping the gun.

  “I’m going out,” she muttered, snatching up her things and making to leave.

  “Rye?” he called after her, using her childhood nickname.

  She paused at the door to swing her coat on. “Yeah?”

  “Can you grab me a pack of smokes?”

  Riley froze. “Since when do you smoke?”

  He shrugged, gaze still fixed on the crossword. “Back in college. It used to relax me.”

  “What in the world are you stressed about?” The words jumped from her mouth before she could stop it and it was too late to suck it back as his gaze lifted to her.

  “I have plenty of stress, Riley. I just don’t show it.”

  Like what? She wanted to scream. But the fight wasn’t in her. She didn’t want it to be.

  She left before the words could burst free, unleashing themselves from the chains around her chest. She wished she could just say them, to just hurl them at him and watch them cut deep, but he was her father. She had no choice. She couldn’t leave him like her mother had.

  At the steps of her apartment, she deflated, dropping where she stood. She drew her legs into her chest and rested her forehead against her knees as her anger and misery lashed in
a battle of wills. It was a tossup which was more potent. Both seemed adamant to drown her. She should have stayed in bed.

  Sniffling back the tears clinging to her lashes, Riley rose to her feet. She dusted off her bottom and descended the rest of the steps. Her sneakers made no sound as she padded quietly to her car. She climbed in and drove in no particular direction.

  In the end, she wound up parking the car in front of the library and walking aimlessly along the street, pausing every so often to eye an outfit in the window. There was never any hope of buying any of it, not when even a belt cost more than twenty dollars, but that didn’t stop her from making a mental check list of all the things she would get if she ever came into money. It was fun, if not a bit discouraging and pathetic. At least she wasn’t at home hiding under her blankets.

 

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