Wrecked: A Novel (Charming Knights Book 1)

by Shana Vanterpool

  “Nothing changed for me.” He stared straight, driving with his jaw stiffened. “It’s always been the same for me. Every night, every morning. Every time.”

  I would not feel bad. I hadn’t invaded his privacy in the absolute worst way for years. “Fine, then it changed for me.”

  “Look, Hallie. I don’t know what you’re pissed about, and frankly, I don’t care. I wanted to spend the night with you, not your grumpy alter ego.”

  My anger exhaled in a rush of hot air. I could hardly sit still. And I knew it wasn’t entirely Wreck I was upset with. I was upset with my father ten times more. Upset with every choice I hadn’t made. “Sometimes I want to leave everything behind. Just walk away with nothing.”

  There was a long stretch of silence before he spoke, his voice gruff and emotional. “You’d never do that to me. You’d never fucking do that to me. Do you hear me?” He didn’t scream it. Didn’t growl. His order was cold, daring—terrified. He sounded like our father’s. “We’re products of their influence. We’ll never be more than what they want us to be. At least not to everyone else.”

  “Our first day as a couple is probably the worst day too. How dare you order me.” I pointed at him threateningly. “After last night, how dare you ever try to force me into your box.” Tears won out. I was so hurt I couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Let me out. I’ll walk home.” I tried the handle, finding it locked.

  “You’d never make it home in those heels.” When I unlocked my door and opened it at the red light, he reached over and grabbed my arm, pulling me back inside across his lap and pulling the door closed. He fought me but ended up securing me on his lap anyway. I stared straight, refusing to look at him with angry tears in my eyes. “I can’t do anything right for you. Look at me. Please,” he begged, trying to turn my chin.

  I stiffened my jaw; if I looked into his eyes right now I’d give in. I couldn’t keep doing that.

  “Hallie,” he sighed. “You want me to take you home?”

  Having him give up so easily made me cry harder, become angrier. “Let me go.” I didn’t know what I wanted, because it didn’t really matter.

  He crushed me to his chest, power hugging me so tightly I felt like our bodies melted together into one angry hurt confused mess of a person. “I got a room tonight at the Charm Loft. Presidential loft suite. Top floor. Best view in the city. Just you and me? And this dress on the floor.” His hand curled around my thigh, trailing his thumb along my inner thigh where my dress had ridden up.

  He was hinting at sex? Why? What changed his mind now when his resolve had been so completely set on keeping his walls up? Last night changed me, not him.

  “Sex isn’t going to make me happy.”

  He snorted softly in my ear, pressing a kiss to my earlobe as people honked behind us. His lips trailed down to my throat. I felt my anger dissipating and I fought to maintain it. “You sure? You never even got completely naked last night, and you looked damn happy to me.”

  “I was,” I admitted, leaning my head back so he could have my throat. He kissed me the way he sucked on my nipples, reverently, deeply. When his lips were on me it was the only time he was completely honest with me. “I love the way I feel around you. In control at the same time I lose it. Naked, bare. Unafraid to feel good. Why do you keep making me regret that?” I covered my face in my hands and screamed.

  “What did I do?” His hands pried mine off.

  “You keep too many secrets.” I finally met his eyes. His gorgeous royal blue’s, teeming with a myriad of emotions. He was as lust-filled as me, and as sad, I thought, as I’d always been. “I’m standing right beside you, Cage. I need to know everything. I don’t keep anything from you. How would you like it if I did?” I couldn’t, not with a camera in my room, but he had to know how unfair it was.

  His gaze tightened. He didn’t know what I knew, only that I obviously knew something. “What did I do, Hals? Tell me.” When I didn’t, he rested his forehead against mine, locking our worlds together. “If I keep things from you, I don’t do it for any other reason than to protect you, or to protect myself. I know things that could hurt us badly, and I know things you probably wouldn’t like to hear. Things I wouldn’t even know how to articulate. Wouldn’t know where to start.”

  “Think about letting me in, please. You’re the only person I want inside of me.”

  He didn’t miss the double meaning in my words, judging by the dark look that glittered in his gaze. “Can we go to dinner now? We already missed our reservations.”

  “Only if you don’t mind me asking tough questions over fried green tomatoes.”

  “Not all answers are going to make you glad to hear them.” There was a hard warning in his gaze I chose to heed.

  “I’ll ask only if I need to know. Okay? A secret for a secret.”

  “Go sit back down.” He gently nudged my lower back, waiting for me to resettle in my seat before continuing to drive.

  I dug my clutch off the floor where I dropped it and retouched my makeup, staring into my own pained gaze and trying to understand why it didn’t scare me as much as it should. I knew it probably had to do with Wreck, that we could fight and scream, but he’d eventually let me behind his walls. He loved me, and love, I was learning, was the biggest cage of them all.

  Paulette’s was a 5-star southern inspired restaurant. I loved watching women wearing pearls wiping barbecue sauce from their chins. Men wearing Tom Ford suits licking gravy from their fingers. The moment we stepped inside, and the smell of expensive perfume and smoked hickory hit me, my stomach growled.

  The hostess showed us to our reserved table and set down our menus. “Evening, Mr. Wreckmond.” She nodded at him and then at me. “Miss Goodford. Paulette has her best chef on call tonight as you requested, Mr. Wreckmond. Are you familiar with our VIP ordering system?” She touched the tablet built into the table.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “If you need anything at all, press the call button. Have a wonderful dinner.” She gave us both wide reverent smiles we attempted to mirror.

  The moment she was gone, our smiles dropped. I picked up my menu and read it over while licking the pink stain from my lips out of hunger. “Are we allowed to order drinks?” When he didn’t answer, I lowered my menu to find his unimpressed gaze. “Right, I guess we are. I want a long island iced tea.”

  “Have you had one of Paulette’s before? They’re not for good sweet girls who weigh 138.5 pounds. They’re for women like our mother. Empty women who need to forget their insides. If it’s up to me, you’ll never become a Charmant housewife, Hals. Order something that’s good enough for you. Like the little star drink I asked the bartender to create personally for you.” He tapped on the tablet, sending in an order for two.

  Hmm. He was being a boyfriend tonight. Albeit a highhanded one. “How do you know my exact weight?” His camera couldn’t show him that.

  He looked away. “I think it’s rather upsetting that you don’t know mine.”

  I propped my chin on my hand. “You’re wrong. I’m pushing 140 these days.”

  He smiled privately, still not looking at me. “No, you’re not.”

  “Fine, I’m not.” I continued to stare at his handsome secret-filled face. “No one really cares about how we feel, Cage. Not our parents, not anyone in the future. Everything we know and want remains inside, where it matters to us. But I think you care about what’s inside of me, and I care what’s inside of you. Stop holding me at a distance. It’s starting to break my heart.”

  His gaze flashed to mine. He didn’t want to break my heart. It was there, on the edge of his stoic gaze. He wanted to love me.

  “Secret for a secret?”

  Our drinks arrived then. Our waitress set down two large crystal glasses filled with a pink and blue liquid. It swirled in a way that looked like stars trapped within a galaxy. It was so pretty, I could only stare. Two black straws poked out the top of the ice-cold liquid. I pulled it over and took a drink, cl
osing my eyes in bliss. It tasted like raspberries, alcohol, and lemonade.

  “Careful. There’s two shots each of vodka and tequila in there.”

  I ignored his warning, taking a longer drink of our world in a glass. Beautiful insides trapped inside of an artificial barrier.

  “What’s your secret?” he asked, twirling his straw around to mix the colors.

  I picked something tame, because he would. “I came to all your practices this past week. I was sitting on the baseball bleachers across the field. I couldn’t go a day without seeing you.”

  He nodded slowly at his glass, reaching up to loosen his tie and unbutton the top two buttons on his charcoal shirt. “I didn’t know.”

  “I know. I’m a horrible person who cares little for your emotions.” I glared, taking another drink. “What’s your secret?”

  “You remember prom last year?”

  I frowned. “I didn’t go. No one asked me.”

  “I was terrified someone would ask you.” His voice lowered. “I couldn’t sleep for months waiting for you to get invited. So, I had Storm put a warning out there that if anyone did ask you, they’d regret it in the worst way. On Monday after prom, I hated myself. You looked so sad when everyone was talking about prom and you were just standing in front of your locker empty and alone. I should have asked you, Hallie, instead of being a pussy.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. I met Tristan a month after junior year. I forgot all about prom. I was starting to realize how much of my own life I forgot; it sent a sad wave over me I couldn’t shake. There had been no reason to hold on to those memories… they were all empty. “I wasn’t sad I didn’t go. I didn’t really want to go.”

  “Yes, you did.” His gleaming gaze met mine. “You even had a dress picked out.”

  I shrugged his words away. “Just a pointless dance. Did you go?”

  “Yes.”

  “With who? Trudy?”

  His silence answered for him. I had never, in my entire life, been jealous. It was an ugly pointless reaction. But I was ugly and pointless tonight. I was so hurt it was ten times worse than letting Tristan go. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to get him back, but that was in fact ugly, and I wanted to leave him where he sat, but that would only hurt my stupid heart.

  “Look at me.”

  I shook my head. I reread the same line on my menu five times. “Why that secret?”

  “We all came to dinner here before prom. It stirred up the memory, I guess. All I could think about was you sitting at home all by yourself. Like you always did.”

  I rotated the tablet and put my order in. One of everything. I ate when I felt empty. Right now, I was hollow. He examined my order carefully once I sat back. He either wanted one of everything too, or didn’t want anything, because he didn’t add anything to my list except for a bourbon over ice.

  Maybe he was right. So far, his secrets ached. But I couldn’t stop. “I used to think you were pretty. First grade, when Mrs. Tyler had you read your project out loud, I remember thinking you were prettier than all the other boys in our class. It was the first time I realized boys weren’t icky, annoying creatures. Of course, I instantly forgot it the next day when you didn’t stick up for me when Frank Grotto wouldn’t let me play tag.”

  He sat back, crossing his legs. He looked as miserable as I felt. “Okay, Hallie. So, you’re not the only one here who’s let opportunities pass us by. I should have done so much more. And you should have realized that Frank Grotto was a confused boy who was terrified of women, and kept on thinking I was pretty. Maybe I wouldn’t have suffered through the same realization about you all on my own.”

  Frank Grotto graduated last year, and Grotto was set to showcase in the Milan fashion week. I never bought a single item he created, even if his 20’s styled dresses made my hands itchy to touch them. Piling on thoughts of Frank was far easier in that moment than to put myself in Wreck’s shoes and imagine him thinking of me the way I’d once thought of him.

  The waitress set down his bourbon and two of the appetizers I ordered, making her retreat silent and quick.

  “My turn?” he checked, bringing the glass to his lips and sipping the amber liquid. “I’ve never found anyone attractive but you.”

  My drink went down the wrong way and I spluttered, grabbing hectically for a cloth napkin to keep myself from spitting all over him. He wasn’t being fair whatsoever. Keeping secrets, staking claim to my heart, and then saying things like that to keep my heart content with her new Wreck-shaped prison. “That’s not possible.”

  “It’s entirely possible.” He didn’t appear to look like he was stroking my ego. He looked like that tortured him endlessly; his eyes bled. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to be inside of another woman and want her to be you? To kiss someone and feel nothing but skin and spit? When we kiss…” He shook his head slightly, eyes closing. “I feel everything. When it’s you, Hallie, it’s real.”

  Sex tonight then. I forced myself to remain seated. But it was so hard. When his eyes fawned open, I saw the torturous side of his feelings for me. In a way, I almost understood why he watched me. Wanting what caused you pain, wanting what had your happiness—those were incredibly large expectations to set for yourself and me. I could easily become him. Watching, wanting, and obsessing over everything he did or didn’t do. I was already sneaking into his place and reasoning with his ability to confirm facts he shouldn’t know.

  “Cage, I’m sorry.”

  Our eyes clashed, interlocking together in a crash of metal and mayhem.

  He didn’t know I knew. Didn’t know I knew he loved me. Didn’t know I knew his love had turned into a misdemeanor. Didn’t know I knew that his love was turning into mine.

  “Your turn, Hallie.”

  I cleared my throat and wrenched my gaze free of his downfall. “I’m glad our fathers interfered. Because deep down they might win in dollar signs, but you and I, Wreck, are going to win right here.” I patted my chest, right over my heart, where this destructive love was forming.

  His walls went up. His hand brought the bourbon to his lips and he drained it, instantly ordering another one.

  I thought my secret broke him.

  To give him a chance to breathe, I unwrapped my silverware and pulled a plate over, examining the bacon wrapped shrimp rubbed with a whiskey barbecue sauce over cheese grits in barely felt awe. I brought one to my lips and bit down, moaning at the taste. It was so unpretentious, it made my toes curl. Bacon, shrimp, and cheese. Even Charmant couldn’t mess up that combination.

  “Try this.” I created the perfect bite for him, full of shrimp and grits, and reached my fork across the table. He raised a brow but did what I asked, wrapping his lips around the fork and chewing. His face didn’t react whatsoever. “Good, right?”

  He shrugged. “You want so much from everything. And they never give it to you, do they, my little star? People, food, me—you yearn for anything that makes you feel alive even for a second.”

  “It’s just shrimp, Wreck.” I moved on to the second appetizer, pork sliders, and shoved them into my mouth, proving him right when I moved on to the next plate. When four waiters brought the rest of our food over, and had to push a second table over, I felt starving for anything that may fill all the merciless empty places inside of me. Wreck joined in, shoving food into his mouth I wasn’t sure he even tasted. He didn’t moan once. Didn’t look like he felt anything for any of it; his eyes only lit up when they caught mine.

  I could barely fit in my dress when my fork fell from my fingers. The sad part was I’d cleaned a combined five plates and four and a half others. Wreck finished the rest, along with four more bourbons. His eyes were heavy-lidded and empty.

  I’d never seen him drunk.

  And I already didn’t like it.

  “I’ll drive,” I ordered, reaching into his pocket as he stood to put on his suit jacket; the smell of spice and bourbon swirled around him. “Can you walk?”

  He s
norted, appearing steady. “I’m not drunk, Hals. I’m partially rubbery.” He shook his arm and smiled darkly.

  I rolled my eyes and led us both out to his Mercedes. I hadn’t noticed how the front end was marred. I traced the mark before getting into the driver’s seat.

  “I brought you a bag,” he said, when he saw me sucking it in as I tried to drive and breathe without puking up what I’d just ate. “No bra or panties though. Since you stole my underwear last night.” He propped his feet on his dash, looking like a model in a dark pose.

  “I don’t need a bra and it’ll be a lot easier for you to get to my lady parts without the panties, so good thinking, boyfriend.”

  “Hmm,” he grunted. “Say that again.”

  “Lady parts?”

  “No.”

  “Good thinking? I don’t want to encourage you.” I smiled at him fleetingly as I spotted Charm Loft in the Charmant skyline.

  “Hals,” he warned.

  “You’re my boyfriend, Cage Wreckmond. Is that what you wanted to hear?” Risking a glance, I found that his eyes were pure dripping bad boy in a suit and tie, rich brown hair mussed, cheeks flushed with bourbon, large hands gripping his strong thighs—he was desire reincarnate.

  “One more time.”

  “Wreckmond Cage, boyfriend my you’re. Look at those backward skills.”

  “You sound like a cute Yoda.” He chuckled to himself.

  I scrunched my nose, unsure if I should be flattered or offended. “You like Star Wars?”

  “No. Mom tried the manny thing for a minute when I was a kid. Dante lasted long enough to instill a bit of cult franchise in me. He’d make me ask for things like Yoda. ‘Juice apple, please.’ I told him to, ‘off fuck, you must.’”

  I snorted with laughter. “Illa was always sort of there. It was love at first sight.” At least I had her. Wreck didn’t have anyone.

  Riches and legacies sometimes masked poverty and scars.