by K. V. Rose
“You love it?” she asks with a grin. It doesn’t even look fake. For some reason, seeing her smile like that and knowing she hates me right now…it makes me feel a little jealous. I admire the show she’s putting on, too.
“Where’s Caden?” I interrupt, directing my question to Riley.
Riley glares at me, then nods toward the stairs. “Somewhere up there.”
I walk past Ava and start up the steps, hearing Riley gushing about this house to Ava.
At the landing, I glance in both directions of the long hallways, with the same type of lamps in the wall. The walls are pale grey, the floor stone here, too. Jesus Christ.
I listen, but this floor is fucking enormous, so I don’t know if I’d hear Caden even if he was blaring his awful metal music at full blast.
“Yo,” I call out, “Caden!”
After a second, I hear him. “Down here!” he yells from the right.
I walk down the hall, peering in each room as I do. There’re a few bedrooms, empty, a few bathrooms, decked out in marble, and then at the very end of the hall, Caden is standing in front of an entire wall of windows that looks out over the manicured backyard which edges up against a forest.
He’s got his arms crossed, his crisp white shirt pulled taunt over his shoulders. I come to stand beside him, gazing out at the sunny fall day, the in-ground pool down below.
“You like it?” he asks me without looking at me. He’s probably still pissed about this morning when he tried to surprise Riley.
“Honestly, man, it’s kind of creepy.”
He laughs. “That’s Riley for you.”
“And you want what she wants, right?”
He turns to glare at me. Here we go. “Don’t be trying to talk her into anymore threesomes, okay, man?” His jaw tightens as he takes me in. “I know I told her I’d do whatever she wanted, and I fucking meant it, but I don’t want your dick anywhere near her again.”
I roll my eyes. “Man, if she wanted to fuck me again, she’d have already done it. She’s been right across the hall from me every single night—”
I don’t see it coming when he slams me up against the windows, but it’s okay because when it comes to fighting, we’re pretty equally matched.
I bring my arms up under his and break his hold on me, then spin him around, grabbing his shirt in my fist.
“Chill,” I say, my face inches from his. “Riley is my friend. That’s it. You need to fucking relax. What you saw this morning was two people being good friends to me, that’s it.”
His hand goes to my throat, but he doesn’t try to choke me. After a moment, we both let go of each other and he runs a hand through his dark blonde hair.
“Any sign of Rolland?” he asks me, smoothing down his shirt and turning to gaze back out the window. I know he’s jumpy because of his dad. I know he wants him dead as much I do. Probably more.
“No, but I’ll find him,” I assure him.
“When.”
I sigh. “Look, man, I know you’re worried but—”
“Worried?” The word comes out choked as he turns to glare at me again. I tense, waiting for him to do something stupid, but he doesn’t. “I’m not worried, Benji.” I watch him swallow. “I’m fucking terrified.”
And then I see her again.
Bianca in the tub, bruises on her neck, her swollen face, tears streaming down her cheeks. I left the Xanax in Briar, trying to do what Ava asked of me, but my fingers curl into fists anyway, on impulse, as if I might reach for the bottle.
But I blink the memory away. Fuck Bianca. Fuck that.
“I know,” I tell him, nodding. “I know. But I’ll take care of it, okay?” I clap my hand on his shoulder and watch him nearly deflate. “She’s going to be okay.”
He looks down at the floor, then nods. “Thanks, man,” he says quietly. We both go back to looking out the window.
I can’t hear the girls downstairs but I know they’re fine. No one knows where Caden moved, and I know he made sure to keep it that way.
“What’s going on with you and Ava?” Caden asks after a moment.
I blow out a breath. “Nothing,” I answer, because it’s pretty damn close to the truth.
“You’ve always been a bad liar, man,” Caden counters without laughing.
I let that accusation hang in the air for a minute before I scrub my hand over my jaw and step closer to the window. “I took her to see Thames.”
I can almost feel Caden tense at my side.
“Why would you do that?” he asks me, his voice dark.
I shrug. “So she knows what she’s getting into.”
“But is she getting into it?”
He always knows exactly the questions I don’t want him to ask. And then he always asks them.
What else are friends for?
“No. She’s not.” I press my forehead against the cool glass. “She’s the daughter of a small, Conservative town’s mayor. Her mom is dying. Her mom has a fucking feeding tube, and she’s dying from cancer. She’s got a whole fucking future ahead of her, even if she hasn’t figured out what she wants to do with it yet.” I straighten and turn to face Caden, who is staring at me. “I don’t have any of that, man. We both know that.”
His brows pull together. “What do you mean? Of course you do—”
“Man, you don’t know the half of the shit I’ve done.” I clamp my teeth together, trying to push back everything that keeps threatening to surface. Everything that’s been building since I found out what Rolland did to Riley. Since he left Toronto. Since I met Ava. Since he threatened her, too.
“I’m a fucking felon,” I point out, forcing myself not to drop Caden’s gaze. I always thought I could face everything I did without flinching. I always thought I’d never regret anything, and I don’t, not really. But I just wish…things were a little different for me right now. “I won’t risk your career by getting into specifics, but I can’t fuck up her life like that. Besides that, she doesn’t want me to. There’s nothing between us. We’re barely friends.”
Caden hooks his hand beneath an elbow, other hand on his chin as he stares at me, and I’ve got the unsettling feeling he can see right through me. He’s always been able to. It goes both ways.
“You keep telling yourself that,” he says softly. “Just like I kept telling myself I hated Riley.” A shadow crosses his face with those words, and I know he really regrets that. “But you like her. And you’ve been pushing women away for too fucking long. She’s still here, isn’t she? Even after you showed her Thames? She’s still downstairs with my girl. She could’ve run off. She could’ve stayed in your stupid SUV. But she’s here.” He shrugs. “I don’t know what might happen between you two. Maybe nothing. But maybe…” He puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Maybe something.”
“He threatened her,” I admit to him. If we’re all confessing our feelings and shit, I might as well own up to some more of my mistakes.
The hand on my shoulder falls away and I watch Caden tense up. “What.” It’s a demand, not a question.
“He threatened Ava,” I clarify. “The both of them, actually.” I pull my phone from my pocket. “He text me from a burner phone. He knew we were at Crate.”
For a second, I wonder if he’s going to try to punch me. I see the vein in his neck straining under his skin. But he swallows and waits, waiting for me to say something else. Something that’ll calm his ass down.
But I’ve got nothing.
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me that?” he bites out.
“I’m going to find him,” I reassure him, because that much is true. “And he’s going to disappear.” I glance down for a second before meeting his gaze again. “I just hope your mom is ready for that. Because whatever we feel for those girls down there…Maria once felt something like that for your dad.”
He turns away from me, swearing under his breath. I see his back muscles flex as he crosses his arms, still not looking at me.
“M
y dad is a fucking monster.” He shakes his head and I watch him let out a breath. “We aren’t, Benji. I don’t give a fuck what you say. We aren’t like that.”
I don’t bother disagreeing with him. But we both know I am just like that.
Twenty
Friday night comes too quickly. Mom is still hanging on. Dad seems to be losing his mind, walking around our house pulling on his hair. He’s got responsibilities for the town piling up and refuses to acknowledge them. When Mom is awake, he’s glued to her side, and I wonder if she’s worried about him, too scared to let him go.
But he needs to let go.
Because the moments she’s awake are getting fewer and further between, and a nurse is here around the clock now, even though Dad takes care of her in every way he can.
I haven’t spoken to Benji since he took me home, after we landed in the afternoon from Toronto. He actually picked up the phone and learned how to type on it because he’s sent me two texts, both single words.
Hey
Ava…
And that’s all I got. I’ve made it a point to go to Dumont’s class early and leave late, so I don’t see him or Riley. Riley has text me a few times herself, and I’ve responded, but avoided her attempts to hang out.
Tess is busy this weekend, away on a fall trip to Virginia with her mom and her boyfriend of the week. Which means there’s no real reason I can’t see Dumont tonight. Especially since I can’t bear to be in the house with Dad how he is and Mom barely more than a ghost.
I hate myself for being a fucking coward. But when Dumont asks me to go with him to downtown Raleigh, I go, wondering if I’ll regret it. Wondering which time I avoid Mom is the time she leaves for good.
I tell Dad I’m headed out with friends—which isn’t exactly a lie and besides that, he doesn’t even acknowledge that I spoke, so I don’t feel too guilty when I pull up to Dumont’s house. He lives in a cookie cutter subdivision with a white house with blue shutters and he drives a blue Tesla. He’s already out the door when I get out of my car and he grins at me across from the roof of his.
“Ready?” he asks me.
I can’t help but to think that Benji really knows how to open doors for a woman while Dumont, older though he is, doesn’t really seem to think about it. Fuck, usually I don’t either. I don’t even begrudge him the fact, it’s just…interesting.
Interesting that Benji is still in my brain.
I don’t talk much on the way to Raleigh, but Dumont doesn’t seem to care. His fingers are laced in mine and he’s got some classical music playing through the speakers, and he talks about how he’s up for tenure soon, which is great for him, but I can’t really muster up the excitement to care.
I know that’s wrong.
I know I should be happy for him, even if we aren’t meant to be or anything stupid like that. But Dumont has never really been a friend. He’s just been…someone to fuck.
He glances over at me as he exits off the highway.
“Wanna drink or dance?” he asks me with a smile. And then I think about the fact that Benji doesn’t dance, and this makes me happy. At least Dumont, 38-year-old English professor that he is, is willing to give it a try.
“Both,” I answer, and he squeezes my hand.
He parallel parks expertly on the street across from Cat Liquor Bar, and we cross at the lights, despite my attempt to jaywalk.
“That’s how people get run over, Ava,” he scolds me mildly as we turn down the street. We take a flight of stairs down to the bar. When he gets to the doorman, he flashes a keychain on his car keys, and the man lets him pass but IDs me before I’m allowed in.
Dumont rolls his eyes which makes me laugh. He’s wearing a silver blazer, dark, slim pants, and his hair is gelled back, his glasses lined with black. He looks every inch the hot professor that he is, and I take his hand as we descend another set of stairs to the dim bar.
There’s no dance floor here, but I assume this night will be a long one. I told Dumont I didn’t have to be home ‘til morning. I have my phone on vibrate in case Dad calls, but I try not to think about that.
About Mom.
To assuage my guilt, I start off with two shots of vodka, which Dumont, surprising me, seems happy about. He sips a beer, and when I knock back a third shot, I get up from the slouchy black couch we’re sitting together on in a corner.
“Gotta pee,” I murmur.
He laughs and waves me away. I scoot between him and the coffee table, bumping my shins against it. I’m wearing a midnight blue dress that grazes my ankles, one Mom picked out for me when I was debating between two at Saks, back when she actually could go shopping with me, and black ankle boots she handed down to me. I’ve got my phone in hand, my ID in my phone case, and nothing else. Dumont always pays, even though we both know I could, too.
I let him.
I’m not fussing over a bill.
I toss the phone case on the couch beside him on second thought.
I head to the bathroom, on the far side of the couch, and have to walk down a small tunnel to get there. It’s dark down here, and the music from the open plan bar is loud even here, I’m the One by HELLYEAH.
I push open the women’s restroom door, walking into the single stall, then someone pushes me from behind, making me nearly trip.
I whirl around, but the door swings shut and whoever it is flicks the light off before I can get a good look at them.
I open my mouth to scream, and a hand clamps over it, a warm body pressed against my back.
I drive my elbow back into their chest but then I hear a dark, husky laugh.
One I know very well.
A chill slides down my spine and I still in Benji’s arms.
What the fuck is he doing here?
“Hello, Princess,” he whispers against my ear, one hand around my waist, the other still clamped over my mouth. “You’ve been ignoring me.”
I don’t move.
His tongue trails down my neck and despite myself, despite my heart slamming in my chest from fear and confusion, it takes all of my self-control not to lean back into him. I can feel his hard cock against my back, and I wish I couldn’t.
Because it only makes me want him more.
He digs his teeth, gently, into my shoulder, moving down the sleeve of my dress.
I can’t stop the soft moan that escapes my lips, into his hand. He smiles against my skin.
“That’s my girl,” he whispers.
I swallow, and his hand moves away from my mouth.
“I’m not your girl,” I tell him, but don’t dare move. “What’re you—”
His fingers dig into my waist, cutting me off, and then he spins me around, planting me against the bathroom wall.
I can barely make him out in front of me in the darkness, but I feel his eyes on me. I hear his breathing, steady and sure.
“You ignoring me to fuck someone else, Princess?” he asks me quietly, his breath against my mouth. He smells so fucking good. “I like to watch, you know. You could let me see you.” His lips brush against mine. “Let me see you let someone else in.”
I turn my face away. “We’re not together,” I manage to say, my words hoarse.
He laughs again, and I feel it on my cheek. He grips my chin in his hand and yanks my head back to face him, even though I’m pretty sure he can’t see me any better than I can see him.
“Why aren’t you back in Toronto?” I ask him, his hand still on my chin, the other presumably beside my head on the wall. “Why aren’t you fucking your girl back home?” I take a shaky breath. “You went to prison for her. Fucked up your life. Why aren’t you with her now?”
The palm of his hand slides down my chin, down my throat, over my collarbone, coming to rest on my breast. He squeezes one, then the other, then dips his fingers into my bra, running the pad of his thumb over both of my nipples.
I wonder if he can feel my heart about to explode out of my chest.
He circles one nipple with his th
umb, then pinches it. Hard.
I gasp, stumbling into him, my hands planted on his chest. I feel his hard muscles beneath his shirt, and I can’t let go of him.
Not yet.
“You want me to be with her?” he goads me, his mouth against my ear. He cups my breast between us. “You want me to do this to her, Ava?”
Another moan comes from my lips and I feel my cheeks burn. I have to get out of here. Dumont is waiting for me…
“I don’t know you,” I whisper against his chest, and his hand on my breast stills. Slowly, he wraps his arms around me, tugging me closer to him. He’s so fucking warm and strong and he smells too damn good. “I don’t know you,” I say again, as if to remind myself, too. “I don’t know you, and you don’t know me and this…”
“What’s this?”
“It’s nothing,” I mumble against him. Dumont will come looking for me soon if I don’t leave here. “It’s nothing.”
His arms tighten around me, making my breath catch. “Nothing?” he repeats.
I nod against him.
Then he lets me go, taking a step back. I falter in the darkness, reaching for something, anything. But my hands close on thin air.
“If that’s what you want,” he says roughly, “then I’ll go.” Silence between us. And then, “But Princess,” he sighs, “I don’t think you even fucking know yourself.”
I wait in the dark, holding my breath. But before I can think of what to say, the door opens and he walks out, letting it slam behind him.
Damn him.
Twenty-One
I think I know where Rolland is.
Or rather, Felix thinks he knows where he’s been staying.
I’m waiting for Caden to fly in from Toronto while I sit in Riley’s apartment, my ankle crossed over my knee on her couch. She’s in the shower, and she has no idea I’m in here so I keep listening for her to get out, so I can warn her without scaring the shit out of her.
I tried to call Ava, but she didn’t answer. I’m not at all surprised. I haven’t spoken to her in the week since I followed her and her fucking professor downtown and found her in the bathroom. I haven’t seen her in class, and unlike last week, when she was just avoiding me, I don’t think she’s been.