Yearn (Revenge Book 4)
Page 24
The hand that had been clutching the counter relaxed and Veda set her palm on top of it.
“It feels like a boy,” she whispered, laughing softly. “Like the sadistic death metal head we always believed he’d be… because death metal is the only thing that could make a girl as consistently nauseous as this kid has been making me over the past twelve weeks. The morning sickness has passed, thank God, but… but he’s definitely rocking out in there. For sure.”
She closed her eyes when tears suddenly stung them, forcing herself to take a deep breath.
“Again, I’m not telling you this to get you back or pressure you to change your mind… I’m just telling you because… because this metal head deserves a shot at a having a relationship with a good man. With a good father. And Gage? I know you’re going to be a great one.” The first tear jetted from her cheek, but she managed to hide her pain from her voice. “I’ll be here all night.” She sputtered. “It’s Veda, by the way…”
When she realized how idiotic her last sentence was, she hung up before she could embarrass herself any further, throwing the phone on the counter with a huff.
There were only two possibilities. Either he’d ignore the call completely, or come racing over. Either way, she knew she’d done the right thing.
Regardless how Gage responded, at least she could live with herself.
——
“It feels like a boy… Like the sadistic death metal head, we always believed he’d be…”
Gage’s eyes glistened under the white candles flickering all over the dim bedroom. His lips parted, trembled, eyes wider by the moment, filling to the brim with moisture as he drank in the closed bathroom door before him with his phone pressed to his ear. Each breath came a little harder, a little faster, until he was gasping, forced to lean forward on his knees and cover his mouth with his hand. Even though he wore only a pair of white boxers, the blood pumping through his veins made his skin heat up, making his body feel like it had been lit on fire.
The bathroom door swung open, and Stephanie stepped out, taking hold of the doorframe while smiling seductively at him.
Gage lifted his eyes to hers.
Pushing open her red silk robe, she revealed the see-through red lace nightie underneath. It hugged her shapely body like a glove, the subtle gaps in the lace hinting at her erect pink nipples and her shaved pussy.
Even as she did a little shimmy in the doorway, nibbling her bottom lip with a soft giggle, eyes filled with the kind of excitement that could only befall a woman who was mere moments from making love with a man for the first time, Gage couldn’t pull the phone from his ear.
He couldn’t pull himself from Veda’s voice, floating through the receiver.
“I’m not telling you this to get you back or pressure you to change your mind… I’m just telling you because… because this metal head deserves a shot at a having a relationship with a good man. With a good father… And Gage? I know you’re going to be a great one.”
He clenched his teeth.
“It’s Veda, by the way…”
The phone beeped, and Gage let it fall from his ear, plopping onto the bed next to him.
His horror-filled eyes hit the floor.
Mistaking the stunned expression on his face for revulsion, Stephanie froze in mid-sway in the doorway, her shoulders and arms collapsing.
“You hate it,” she accused.
Gage lifted his eyes up her long legs, the lace nightie that left nothing to the imagination, and the womanly neck he’d spent the bulk of the night suckling ferociously. A lump moved down his throat when he finally met her eyes.
Her blue orbs widened the moment their gazes locked as if she could see the words running through his mind before he even said them out loud.
“I can’t do this,” Gage whispered.
“Oh…” A blush heated her cheeks, and she yanked the flaps of her silk robe closed, hiding her body. When her eyes filled with tears, she lowered them.
“I’m sorry, Stephanie.” He looked down at his phone, and then back up at her. “But…”
Stephanie kept her eyes lowered, crossing one arm over her body while pushing her hair behind her ears with the other, shrinking into a shell of herself so rapidly she seemed seconds from curling into a ball on the floor.
“I—” he stumbled. “I have to go.”
Gage didn’t wait for a response. Some part of him knew that there wouldn’t be one. That he’d just hurt her so badly it was better to throw himself out before she did it for him. So he broke their gaze and stood from the bed. Racing to the door of her bedroom, he swept up every item of his clothing she’d peeled off throughout the night, before leaving the room.
Even as the desperation in his heart exploded to unbearable levels, he managed to wait until he was out of Stephanie’s sight before he broke into a run.
30
Gage hadn’t called or texted her back, but Veda still ordered a few of his favorite entrees from the Chinese take-out place down the street. She still transferred that take-out onto her own plates so she could pretend she’d prepared it herself. She still put those plates in her pre-heated oven so they’d be warm when—and if—he arrived.
Licking the succulent sauce off her fingers, never letting her eyes move from the phone on her kitchen counter for more than a fleeting moment, Veda set out a bottle of sparkling cider, along with two wine glasses, before carrying the take-out containers to the trash can. She cursed softly when she saw it was nearly overflowing, so full she was barely able to shove the cartons inside.
Knowing how much Gage hated an overflowing trashcan, and wanting everything to be perfect when—and if—he arrived, she removed the bag from the bin and tied it up. She snatched her phone—which she always kept on silent for work—from the counter on her way to the front door. It would only take a minute to take the trash out, and Gage hadn’t even called her back yet, so she didn’t worry about somehow missing him.
Her eyes perused the parking lot once she’d stepped outside—just to make sure his car wasn’t in sight. It wasn’t. And his engine was so loud she’d hear it growling in the distance if he was even within a mile.
The trash room was located in the same building as her apartment, just one door down. Her apartment complex was quiet as a mouse as she made her way to the door of the room, pulling it open and stepping inside. The door slammed shut behind her, as it always did, so hard it made the walls shake. So hard it could take off an arm if one wasn’t careful.
Her eyes searched the quiet vestibule, made up entirely of cement with a vile scent that could only be described as Trash de Toilette. Maintenance sprayed the room daily with some lemon scented air freshener, but it only highlighted the terrible smell even more.
A yellow light flickered overhead, leaving the room pitch black every other second before it sputtered back to life.
Across the empty vestibule was another door that led to the actual trashcans, and Veda cursed under her breath when she saw that door had been blocked off with yellow crime scene tape—maintenance’s way of informing residents that the room was full. She rolled her eyes, checked her phone, and then looked toward the staircase at the back of the room.
She had half a mind to leave that trash bag sitting on the floor. She didn’t want to miss Gage. Then, she recalled the notice her landlord had just sent out, admonishing residents about leaving trash outside the designated rooms and inviting rats and roaches. The notice had promised hefty fines if the litterbugs were caught on camera. She lifted her eyes to the camera filming her from the ceiling and decided to do the right thing and dump her trash in the room on the second level.
She needed the cardio anyway.
Making her way across the dim room, she began climbing the stairs, only making it halfway up when the sound of the door slamming closed on the first floor sent a shot of fear racing through her. She froze on the steps, looking down the dark flight of stairs. She waited for whoever had just come in to make the same disgus
ted sound she’d made when she’d found the trash room blocked.
Silence.
Just the flickering yellow light. No sign of life.
Frowning, Veda hurried up to the second level. But the trash room on that level had been blocked off with yellow tape as well.
“Really?” she whispered, continuing up the stairs.
When she made it to the third level, she was relieved to find that trash room hadn’t been blocked off, yanking the door open. The light on the third floor didn’t flicker but was dimmer than the bulb on the first. Regardless, Veda was able to find the trash chute with ease, tossing her bag inside.
She left the room and stepped back into the stairwell, hesitating at the edge of the staircase when her stomach rumbled. She couldn’t tell if it rumbled due to hunger, or the death metal head growing inside it, but as she covered her belly with her hand, a soft smile spread her lips.
“Rock on, little man,” she whispered, looking at her belly, waiting for the rumbles to die down.
She wondered if she’d imagined the door on the first-floor opening and closing a minute earlier. Maybe the person who’d come in behind her had taken the lazier route and just thrown their trash on the floor. She was beginning to wish she’d made the same choice.
The buzzing of her phone pulled her away from her thoughts, and Veda gasped at the sight of Gage’s name on the display.
She’d just missed his call.
Her phone buzzed again, informing her he’d left a message.
Her heart pounded with so much excitement that, as she unlocked her phone and opened her voicemail, she didn’t even notice the shadow looming in behind her until it had washed out the yellow glow of the stairway light.
Another gasp ripped up her throat, this one laced with white-hot fear, and just as she went to look over her shoulder, she was shoved violently from behind. A scream tore through her lips, burning her throat as she went flying forward.
Her head hit the concrete steps first—a crack filling the air—and as she barreled down, faster every second, a different part of her body slammed into the concrete, each a little harder than the last. Her shoulder, her knees, her stomach…
Her stomach.
A whimper split her lips as her body came to a violent stop on the second story landing, her head colliding with the concrete wall. Heaving past the shock in her thundering heart, she tried to stand, but her head spun, making her dizzy, leaving the dim, flickering yellow light beckoning her from the first floor hazy. Her heart assaulted her ribcage, and she fought to breathe past the debilitating fear surging through her veins. Past the pain in her stomach.
As she struggled to stand, the shadow loomed behind her once more. Every bone in her body screamed with pain, and she slapped her hand over her belly—where the pain was most intense.
She tried to stand again, managing to stagger to her feet, her knees wobbling violently, bracing a hand against the wall when she found herself intensely lightheaded. Wave after wave of dizziness assailed her, causing her to sway. Bile raced up her throat, and she dug her nails into her stomach when the pain intensified tremendously. Her vision ebbed and blurred, sending waves of blackness rolling in and out.
In the next instant, the blackness won over. The hand she’d been bracing against the wall went limp, and so did her kneecaps, sending her crumbling back down to the floor. The shadow behind her grew larger still, moving in so close that it drowned out the flickering yellow light on the first floor.
And Veda’s eyes fluttered slowly shut.
Epilogue
Gage didn’t get angry after the millionth knock. He didn’t get angry after the millionth doorbell ring. He didn’t get angry after the millionth unanswered phone call. He didn’t even get angry when he grew desperate enough to circle around to her bedroom window and knock on that as well, just in case she’d fallen asleep.
But as he lowered his confused eyes from Veda’s bedroom window, checked the clock on his phone, and realized he’d been standing there, knocking like an idiot, for over an hour, it hit him.
The heartbreak on Stephanie’s face when he’d walked out on her earlier that night.
The same heartbreak that had been eating him alive since the moment his engagement to Veda had ended.
The photo his mother had shown him—the photo of Veda and Linc—embracing behind the very apartment door that she’d invited him to, but now refused to answer.
It hit him all at once, and the anger finally came.
It sent the pads of his fingers slamming over his touch screen phone, his ears pounding violently as he put that phone to his ear for the million time that night.
“Hey guys, it’s Veda, leave me a message, and I’ll call you back.”
Gage barely let the beep finish before he was spitting into the receiver through clenched teeth, stomping back toward his car. “Veda. I’m here. You’re not.” He drew in a breath, heard it shaking wildly, and let the anger take over. “Clearly you enjoy knowing that you can play me like a fiddle. Clearly nothing brings you more pleasure than fucking with my heart. I promise you it will never happen again. I will never allow you to do this to me again. God damn it—you’re psychotic. God help that child. God help any child that ends up with you for a mother.” He sucked in a dollop of air through clenched teeth, feeling those words slice through him like a knife, hoping they sliced her the same way. “I abhor you. I loathe you, Veda. Until that baby comes… if there even is a baby—if it’s even mine—stay the hell away from me. Just…” He pulled the phone away from his face completely, realizing he was on the verge of a very real explosion. Disarming his car, he brought the phone back to his mouth, so close to his downturned lips brushed the plastic casing. “Stay the fuck away from me, Veda.”
Ending the call, he climbed into the driver’s seat of his Phantom, so overcome with fury he nearly sent the phone flying into the windshield.
Instead, he started the car and tore out of the lot, the rear wheels kicking up smoke as he raced away, promising himself he would never return to Veda Vandyke again.
——
The yellow light of the trash room flickered against Veda’s face, so calm and serene one would believe she’d fallen into a deep sleep. But the sting of blood racing from a gash on her forehead—a gash she’d endured from her grisly fall—told another story. The crimson trail raced down her brown forehead and along the bridge of her button nose, hanging on to the pointed tip before dripping down into a thick red puddle on the concrete floor.
The stairwell went silent, save for the slow, careful breathing drawn in through the flared nostrils of the only other person there. The slow, careful breathing drawn into the body that loomed above her, the knees that bent down next to her, and the arms that slithered beneath her unconscious body.
The arms that lifted her body from the concrete floor and carried her away.
Four down.
COMING SOON
The Revenge Series: Number Five
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Also by Trevion:
The Revenge Series:
Quiver: Number One
Tingle: Number Two
Purr: Number Three
Yearn: Number Four
Stereo Hearts Series:
Stereo
Encore
The Romanovsky Brother’s Series:
Taming Val
Claiming Roman
Loving Leo
Finding Gary
The Almeida Brother’s Trilogy:
Lila's Thunder
Thunder Rolls
Lightning Strikes
Stand Alone Novels:
Dead or Alive
th friends