Cruel Intoxication: A Dark Romance (Underground Kings Book 4)

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Cruel Intoxication: A Dark Romance (Underground Kings Book 4) Page 11

by Kelli Callahan


  “I got it,” Heaven says from behind me, picking it up and following us.

  When we get to the fitting room, I hang the forty pieces of clothing in the room on the silver rack. Heaven reaches around me and hangs a slinky … uh … oh wow.

  It’s a nightgown … that’s sheer.

  And the image of her naked underneath it is inappropriate. I squeeze my eyes shut and go to step out of the room when the wall jumps in my way. I smack my head against it, and Heaven snorts in laughter. I press my hand against my head and curse, hoping Jolie didn’t see me.

  “Are you okay?” she asks, laying her hand on my lower back.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” I open my eyes, and that damn fucking gown is there, mocking me. Why does she have that? All of her dresses are conservative. I’m thrown for a loop, and now I can’t stop imagining her naked.

  I can’t.

  Stop.

  “I’ll … uh … I’ll wait out here. That’s … that’s nice,” I point to the nightgown and walk out the door, shutting it behind me. I lean against it, relieved that I’m away from the sexy piece of clothing, even though it’s seared into my mind.

  Forever.

  For the first time in my life, the woman I have on my mind isn’t my wife.

  Everyone in the room is staring at me and smiling.

  “Dude, you got it bad,” Heaven states while giving me a slap on the shoulder.

  “I think it’s sweet,” Quinn says. “Our Owen deserves to be happy for once.”

  “I’m happy.” I’m a bit offended even though I don’t mean to be. I’ve been happy. Kind of.

  “You haven’t, but that’s okay.” Jaxon sits down on a black velvet couch that is directly in front of the fitting rooms, and he pulls Quinn down on his lap. “Happiness isn’t natural. It takes time to realize you can finally have it. It’s an emotion that’s built and made, not something you’re born with. Happiness can be taken away, as you know, but it can come back, Owen. It might be back for you,” he suggests, patting the seat closest to him, informing me to sit.

  “There’s nothing happy about her situation.” I place my hands on my thighs as I sit down like he silently asked. The velvet feels good against my arms, and the cushions are soft.

  “I know, but you know what, in this moment, there’s plenty for her to be happy about; just think about that,” Grayson inserts as he takes the seat at the end, Finley sitting on his lap.

  “Yeah, like that little nightgown she has in there.” Heaven whistles, and my knuckles pop as my fingers clench to create a fist. Is he thinking of her naked? “That’s surprising. I can’t believe she picked that. I bet—”

  “You better shut that fucking mouth, Heaven.”

  “Oh, big bad wolf is getting mad. Wonder why.”

  “Heaven, stop.” The order coming from Jaxon has Heaven zipping his lips.

  My fingers tap on my knee as we wait for her to walk out in the first outfit. God, I hope she doesn’t walk out in that nightgown. No, fucking way. I won’t be able to think straight with Heaven’s eyes on her, with anyone’s eyes on her.

  I need to go on a date.

  That’s what I need to do.

  I need to take a woman out who won’t be ready for a relationship for a very long time, and I don’t want to pressure Jolie into thinking she has to give me a chance. She has a long road ahead. It’s fine.

  We’ll be fine.

  I download a dating app on my phone while we wait and create a log in. It isn’t long before a few local women come up, but none of them hold my interest like Jolie.

  “Dude,” Heaven slaps my arm, and I glance up from my phone.

  Jolie is standing there in the white dress that reminds me of a wedding dress. The sheer white slip that I thought was a nightgown, she’s wearing underneath, creating a beautiful frame around the hems. Her skin, while there are a few bruises, is beautiful. She’s pale, probably not from seeing the sun for so long. Her flesh reminds me of freshly fallen snow after a blizzard, untouched. It looks so smooth, so innocent, so flawless, that the thought of touching something so perfect has you second guessing if you really want to walk through the snow.

  Who am I kidding?

  I’m not going to be fine.

  Thirteen

  Jolie

  Owen hasn’t talked to me much in the last few days.

  Granted, I’ve stayed in my room the majority of the time sleeping. Not because I’m mad at anyone, but I’ve been so tired. All I do is eat and sleep, but still I can’t help but wonder if he’s mad at me. Did I do something?

  I slip on my new yoga pants and t-shirt, then walk out of my bedroom to see what he’s up to. It’s been easier to acclimate in the house with the same people. Everyday I’m gaining confidence and weight. I’m not as afraid as I used to be, but I still have nightmares.

  When I do, I hear a voice in my mind saying I’m okay, and it sounds alike Owen. Why would he be with me at night if he ignores me during the day?

  Taking a right, I head toward the kitchen and living room to see who I can find. My heart is jumping, and my nerves are getting the best of me. Owen makes my palms sweat. That’s never happened to me before.

  The first day being away from him, I panicked. I cried myself to sleep because he was the only person I trust. I latched onto him. The next day, I was sad, I missed him, but he wasn’t here. Jaxon said he had to go out for something, but that’s it. He didn’t specify.

  But now he’s back, according to Quinn, and I want to know why he’s avoiding me. I’ve learned that while yes, I’m attached to Owen, it’s more than being rescued by him, like I initially thought.

  It’s more.

  Since he hasn’t been here, I’ve felt so sick, so unsafe, so confused, and I’ve missed him. I don’t think he has missed me at all. Maybe there was a part of me that thought he was interested because foolishly I took his kindness for something more than what it was.

  The kitchen is empty. There’s a plate full of muffins in the middle of the counter that Julia made. Heaven is asleep in the living room, TV on, but his head tilted back, snoring.

  I don’t know where to go when I randomly look out the sliding glass windows and see Owen sitting on the patio couch, staring off in the distance. I quicken my steps, then slow when I realize what I’m doing. I do my best not to look like a complete idiot.

  Or desperate.

  I bet that’s why he hasn’t wanted anything to do with me and he disappeared. I was pathetic, and who wants to be around someone like that? My hands grip the handle as I take a deep breath and prepare myself for the inevitable. I’m not sure how to handle rejection.

  The last year and half, while brutal, horrible, and a time I never want to relive, I wasn’t rejected. How could I feel rejected when I never wanted the guy but he wanted me? This is all new to me. I almost feel conditioned to not want Owen, but for him to want me.

  But that isn’t the case. I do want him, and him being gone over the last few days made me realize that.

  Opening the door, the cool air bursts across my face and the rippling of the water in the pool has the sun reflecting off the clear surface. The sky is still bright, the sun is high, the clouds are fluffy, and Owen is sitting in the shade with a vacant look on his face.

  “Hi,” I greet him as I close the door, giving us the privacy we need from Heaven’s nosey ears. He might be asleep, but once he hears us talk, he will wake up and pretend to be sleeping.

  Owen looks my way and stands, slamming his knee against the table. He groans, falling back and plopping on the couch again. “Hi,” he says while holding his breath and wrapping his hands around his knees.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Fine. You were unexpected is all.”

  I know the feeling.

  “Sorry. Quinn said you were finally back, and I wanted to see you.” I sit next to him on the red cushions and follow his gaze to the sea. “You didn’t … you didn’t tell me you were leaving. I got worried. I...” I blow out a b
reath, not quite sure how to tackle this situation. “You left.” I decide to leave it at that and let him form his own conclusions.

  “I did,” he says without apology. “I should have told you. I’m sorry, but I needed to get away. I needed to think, and I can’t think around you, Jolie.”

  “I’m not saying this to make you feel bad, but I was scared, Owen. I didn’t know how to be without you.”

  “Which is another reason why I up and left like that,” he says, staring down in his lap, ashamed. “I didn’t want to leave, but it wasn’t good for me to stay. You needed to see what life was like without me. I needed to give you space. I needed…” He lifts a muscular arm and runs his fingers through his hair.

  “What did you need? I needed my friend. You were the only person I truly knew here. I didn’t know what to do—”

  “You figured it out, which was what you needed.”

  “You don’t have any idea what I need. Not like I do.”

  “I know that you are used to me. You don’t know this life without me, Jolie. I saved you. I … you need to figure life out.”

  There are so many underlying meanings and statement in what he isn’t saying. I need him to say it.

  “Are you mad at me? Do you want me to leave? I’ll go,” I say, standing, fighting back the urge to cry.

  His fingers wrap around my wrist, and he tugs me down until my ass hits the chair again. He stares at me in disbelief and hurt. “No, no of course not. I want you to stay. You can be here as long as you want. I… Jolie, please,” he begs, but I don’t know what he’s begging for. His hands are still wrapped around my wrist, and the more he touches me, the more I fall for him.

  Him.

  Not the idea of him or the safety of him.

  The confusion is no longer there ever since he left. Yes, I had my doubts and my sadness. I got lost in my fear, but I wasn’t someone who was completely lost.

  Just a little estranged.

  “Please, what?”

  “Trust me?” he asks, rubbing his thumb over the inner skin of my wrist.

  “You’re the only one I trust,” I whisper as he turns over my hand and drags his finger across my palm. It’s true. Everyone in this house is great. They have treated me with nothing but respect, but trust? Every ounce I’m willing to give is Owen’s.

  “Hey, Officer Howard is here,” Heaven interrupts us by peeking his head outside the sliding glass door and shoving a cookie in his mouth.

  I snatch my hand away from Owen and narrow my eyes at him. “You said you weren’t going to call them.”

  He stands and reaches out for me, but I turn my body away, betrayed and hurt. Owen drops his hand to his side. “That’s not what I said. I said we would wait a couple days before calling the cops. You’ve got to talk to them. You’ve been missing for too long. Someone has to be looking for you.”

  “No one is looking for me!” God, what doesn’t he get? I wasn’t loved before. No one cares about me. I’m nothing, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to try to be something, even if it’s just for myself. I didn’t try to escape to run back to my previous life. I escaped because I realized I wanted more than a dead-end job and a trailer park.

  I escaped for me.

  No one else.

  “You still have to talk to the cops,” Owen says in a way that leaves no room for argument.

  “I’m just going … to go … in … here.” Heaven ducks his head inside the house and vanishes, leaving me and Owen to battle this issue out on our own.

  “Owen, please,” I beg him. “I don’t want to talk about what happened to me again. I can’t… I can’t say it again. I want to move on with my life. I can’t do that if I’m always going to be thinking about him.” Then an idea strikes me, hard like the back of my captor’s hand, and I take a step away from Owen. “Is this the only reason you’re back? Because of the appointment with a cop that you set up for me? Am I that much of a burden to you? Why don’t you just tell me that? Huh? Be up front with me.”

  “No, I’m back because—”

  We are interrupted when the door opens again. I’m about to curse at them when I see it’s a cop. He takes his hat off and gives Owen a nod. “Owen, how are you doing?” he asks, cordial. Next, his calculating gaze lands on me.

  Pity.

  Another reason why I didn’t want to talk to him. Owen steps beside me, to guard me or make me feel safe, I don’t know. What I do know is he wants me to do this, so I’ll do it without him. I’ve lived the last few days without him by my side; I can do this one thing.

  “You must be Jolie. I’m Officer Howard. It’s a pleasure.” Officer Howard reaches out his hand, and I don’t hesitate to shake it.

  “Hi,” I clip, short and not very sweet. “Owen, could you please leave?”

  “No.”

  “Owen,” I argue.

  “I said I’m not going anywhere. You have nothing to prove to me. Don’t be stubborn because you’re mad at me. I want to be here for you.”

  Yeah, like you’ve been there for me over the last few days?

  I keep my lips shut, not wanting to hurt him, and sit down.

  Officer Howard is skeptical as he sits across from us, the couch groaning from his weight. His weapon’s belt is leather and stretches as it rubs against the red cushions. The gun is heavy on his hip, and it’s hard not to stare at it. Something so dangerous, so deadly, but it’s harmless as long as no one pulls the trigger.

  Humans are the most dangerous creatures out there.

  Officer Howard pulls out his notebook and slides a blue pen out of his breast pocket, opposite of where his badge is placed. “Owen says he found you nude in the woods, Jolie. Is this true?”

  “You can skip all the questions, Officer. If you want to know the full story, why don’t you just ask me to start at the beginning?” My tone is less than pleasing. I rub my temples with my fingers and try to calm my annoyance, rage, and fear. I hate diving into this story. It makes me feel weak and useless. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so rude. It isn’t like me. I hate talking about it. It’s still so fresh.” The bravery I’ve felt over the last few days disappears, and my captor’s face flashes before my eyes.

  Brown hair.

  Brown eyes.

  Scar down his cheek.

  Yellow teeth and bad breath.

  I shiver, feeling the phantom touch of his fingers drifting down my back to spread the cheeks of my ass. Shutting my eyes, I let the sickness pass before looking at Officer Howard again. Tears brim my eyes, and on instinct, I reach to my left and grab Owen’s hand.

  My anchor.

  “I understand. There are no apologies necessary, Jolie. Before we get started, I do want to say this.” His eyes cut to Owen, and a grim expression marks his face. “There are no missing person reports for anyone named Jolie in the last two years.”

  “Told you,” I whisper to Owen, not disappointed or sad. I knew no one would be looking for me. My parents are selfish assholes. They only care about drinking or gambling. They don’t care to make sure rent is paid or the electricity stays on. If anything, Mom will pick up just enough cash by working the corner once a week. Dad doesn’t care. He just wants his beer, porn, and the ability to leave the trailer whenever he wants.

  Me?

  I was a consequence of a drunken night that neither of them could remember. The day I turned eighteen, I left that no good, piece of shit, run-down trailer, and never looked back.

  “I’m sorry. Wait a minute,” Owen says before we get on to the good stuff. “You mean to tell me, this woman, this beautiful, smart, amazing woman has no one looking for her?” Owen shakes his head. “I don’t believe that. I can’t. I refuse.”

  “I checked all fifty states, Owen.” Officer Howard taps the notepad with his pen, giving me another look that’s full of pity. He feels bad for me. He doesn’t need to.

  “It doesn’t make sense,” Owen utters. “Maybe her parents are behind this. It’s the only thing that fits. Who doesn�
�t want to find their daughter?”

  Uh. I never thought of that.

  Officer Howard scribbles something down, blue ink finally decorating the small blank page. “You don’t look too surprised to hear that.”

  I lift a shoulder. “I’m not, I guess.”

  “You don’t seem too bothered either,” Officer Howard decides to point out.

  “I mean, my parents are pretty crappy people. Anything they say and do never surprises me. Would I be hurt if they were behind this? Yes. Surprised? No.”

  Officer Howard rubs his eyebrows before putting pen to paper again. “Sounds like something we need to look into; don’t you agree?”

  “I guess. I’d prefer if we left it alone. I just want to move on with my life,” I say, and this time he’s the one who doesn’t seem too surprised to hear about it.

  “We can revisit that after we run through everything today. Tell me, Jolie. What’s your full name? Start from the beginning. I don’t want you to leave out any details.”

  “Any?” I ask, not wanting to tell him everything that happened. I don’t want someone else feeling bad for me. I have enough of that to go around for the rest of my life.

  “All of it. Even the unpleasant parts.”

  “My name is Jolie Anderson…” I state, stretching my neck by turning it left and right. A cool breeze rolls by and dries the beads of sweat on my neck. I give him the rundown of everything, being kidnapped from college, trapped in a cabin, nearly starved. I told him about the baby, the abuse, the everything.

  I don’t know how much time has passed since we started, but the sun is starting to set, and the stars are starting to peek out in the sky.

  “Is there anything else?” he asks, a heavy strain thick in the air.

  “Yeah, you are going to want to know that I killed him,” Owen says, off-handedly. “He attacked me on my campsite in the woods, trying to get to Jolie. I killed him. You might find his body soon.”

  “You might have wanted to lead with this information. You guys can’t just go around killing people. I should arrest you, Owen.”

  “For what? The man kidnapped her, abused her, and tracked her through the woods. Didn’t he deserve to meet his maker? Please,” Owen scoffs and puts his arm around my shoulders, tugging me close to him. The gesture is fast, natural, quick like a habit, and I don’t fight him on it. “He would’ve hurt her. I stopped him. He lives close to us, but it has to be off the edge of where the property line ends.”

 

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