by C. M. Owens
"Boy, that girl is going to be the best thing that ever happened to you. You'd better wise up and see it before it's too late. There are many things in life you never get a second chance at. Believe me when I say I know. Now go. Take that girl home and be the man I taught you to be."
He claps my back as though he just spoke words of wisdom. I'm still trying to figure out what the hell happened in the short time I left them alone.
Raya has the trunk popped, eyeing it uncomfortably while hugging the bottle of wine when I make it outside. I take large strides to make it to her, clutching the crate much too hard.
"I've got it," I say, my tone more clipped than I mean for it to be.
I take the time to wrap it up tightly in the bubble-wrap, and then I bury it perfectly in the straw. She watches me, but I can't look at her right now. My mind is still reeling and needing answers.
"I can't believe he gave you the '93 Merlot. What did you say to him?" I ask, biting back the anger that is close to surfacing.
"I didn't tell him anything. I don't want the wine, though. You should keep it. After all, it would mean more to you than to me."
I ignore her wounded tone and focus on her words. She doesn't even appreciate it, so why did he just shove it at her?
"I've already got one. This one and mine are the only two left," I say absently, fighting hard not to say anything else for fear of what might come out of my mouth.
"Please keep it," she says in a near whimper, obviously sensing my anger.
"If he wants you to have it, then you should keep it. It's his wine to do with as he pleases."
I slam the trunk and walk away, needing to get us home so I can call Dad. There's only one reason Granddad would part with that wine. I don't understand why he gave it to a girl he knew for less than an hour, but that's the least of my concerns.
I don't say anything all the way back, and Raya stares out the window, keeping her hands balled up in her lap. The silence is almost suffocating, but my mind weighs too much to force it to think of casual conversation. Speed limit signs frown at me as I break all their rules, desperate to get home.
The second we pull into the garage, I leap out of the car and make it almost all the way to the door as Raya goes to pull the wine from the trunk. My phone is in my hand before I head to the outside patio, needing privacy for the call.
"Just got off the phone with your grandfather. I suspected I'd hear from you," Dad says, seeing no need in a simple hello.
"Did he tell you he gave Raya the '93 Merlot?" I ask, taking a deep, calming breath.
"He did. Says Raya is the girl you're going to marry. It apparently took him all of five seconds to see it. I'm surprised it took him that long."
Psychos. I'm surrounded by crazy people.
"He gave her the '93 Merlot," I say slowly, hoping this time it clicks and he agrees how crazy it all is.
Instead, my father is silent. Never is he silent.
"He's not doing good, is he?" I ask, sitting down as his silence carries on.
Dad clears his throat as though emotion has knotted up and is battling against him. My own dread starts to manifest as a sick feeling crawls over me, wrapping me up with the same cling as a tacky spider web.
"His doctor called while you were there. The cancer is spreading instead of dying. Could be another year, maybe two. Or it could be six months. If he goes to his treatments the way he's supposed to, his odds improve."
The first tear falls from my eye when my worst fears are confirmed. Before I know it, I've jumped up and flipped the patio table with one hand. Ignoring the rest of the tears that fall, I try to catch my breath, doubling over as a wave of sickness washes over me.
"He gave her the wine before he got the call. I think he knew it was coming," Dad adds quietly.
My hands tremble as I sag back down to my chair, ending the call so my father can't hear me weep.
Chapter Thirteen
She hasn't come out of her room since we got back, and I really can't blame her. I took out all my anger on her. I'm such an idiot.
Over the past few hours, I've destroyed some of my patio furniture, cried for the first time since I was a kid, and stared at photos that remind me how short life is. Glaring at my door like it's a brick wall isn't helping me right now. I want Raya.
It's hard to admit when you're an ass, but Raya didn't deserve the way I treated her. Now that I've had a minute to calm down, I feel worse. She should punch me. At least twice.
When I make it to her door, I take a breath, praying this goes better than I think it will.
She doesn't answer when I knock, so I push through, frowning when I see her curled up as small as she can get, looking fragile and so damn sweet. Maybe she deserves to hit me three times.
I make my way over to her, dreading the fact that she's more than likely going to push me away. Summoning up my courage, I decide to go with a strong offense, and start kissing her neck.
A small moan rewards me, so my lips come up and move to be on her cheek. "I'm sorry," I say softly, feeling her stir. "Come to bed with me."
She barely opens her tired eyes and glances at the clock. I'm not sure if she groans or if that's a muttered curse, but she turns away from me.
"Just go to bed. We'll talk in the morning," she mumbles, her voice rasp.
I smile when I don't hear any real anger in her tone. Irritation? Yes. I can deal with her being irritated. But things won't be okay in this room. We won't move past anything if I let her stay in here. Right now is my only chance to get her out of here and put her back in my room—the room that has become ours.
"Tell me I can take you to my bed, and I'll shut up," I say, smiling when she sniffs.
"There's nothing wrong with my bed. I want to sleep in here. We'll talk in the morning. When there's light out."
I don't play fair. She's not getting away from me that easily.
After I climb into her bed, I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her to me, resting the back of her body flush against my front. Then, like the cunning devil I am, I start kissing her neck, using all her weaknesses against her.
"I said I'm sorry," I murmur, nuzzling her affectionately, and then planting another kiss against her neck.
With a harsh exhale, she turns to face me, and with the barely-there glow of the streetlight through her window, I see the hurt in her eyes. I really screwed up.
I brace for the worst, knowing that I deserve it. Her eyes search mine for something. If it's regret, I'm sure she sees mounds of it, because I'd give anything to rewind time right now.
"I didn't ask for the wine. In fact, I damn near begged him to keep it. He was insistent. I don't know why you're pissed at me. I told you to keep the frigging bottle. I don't want it." Her voice is quiet, but I can hear the strain caused by her raw emotions.
I'm a jerk. That's all there is to it.
She turns over, but I pull her back to my body. I even go as far as to wrap my leg around her. It doesn't feel like I can get close enough.
"I know, Raya. That's why I'm apologizing," I murmur, preparing myself to be honest. She deserves honesty. "I was a jerk. It... it just caught me off guard. You should definitely keep it. It's obvious Granddad noticed how special you are, too. He has... cancer, and when he gave that to you, I wasn't mad at you... It just made me realize he knows he doesn't have a lot of time left. It just... it really struck a nerve, because I'm not ready to lose him."
I can't do it. I can't tell her I love her. But I finally realize that I want her to have that stupid bottle of wine, because Granddad was right to see something in her. She's something I can't lose, even if this is all scaring the hell out of me.
I fight back the tears I thought I was finished shedding just as she turns over and wraps her arms around me. It feels so good to have her arms around me, and I hold her closer.
She's consoling me with her touch. After all the shit I said and did, she's trying to console me.
"Come to bed with me. I hate sleepin
g upstairs," I say, giving her another kiss on the cheek.
I can't stand being in this room. This is where all the casual hookups come during my parties. It's tainted, and it's nowhere nearly good enough for her. I shouldn't have ever let her come in here to begin with.
"Okay," she says softly, no hesitance in her tone.
I take her hand after pulling her off the bed, feeling soothed by her simple touch. A slew of contradicting emotions stir within me as we near the bedroom. As soon as she's safely tucked in my room, I pull her in front of me and bring my lips down on hers while backing her up, needing to be as close to her as I can get.
When we reach the bed, I lean in to her until we both drop down to the mattress, making sure to keep my body placed between her legs. I kiss her neck, savoring her taste like it's the cure for me right now.
In my life, I've never thought I needed something. And then I met Raya.
Time doesn't exist right now. There's no rush to undress, and we take our time, devouring each other in places the eye can't see, until we're bare and holding each other. My fingers thread through her silky strands as I try to make her feel what I'm feeling, kissing her deeper than I thought possible. A simple kiss has never meant so much in my life, but it feels as though tomorrow hangs in the balance. I need to hear her say it again.
And she does her best to drive the pain away. Her hands explore my body with a soft, sensual touch meant for men greater than me. She gazes at me with more love than I deserve. And she holds me to her, giving me security I didn't know I needed.
I pull her to be on top of me, letting her straddle me and giving her sole control. Our kiss never breaks, until she sits up. I expect her to reach for the condoms I have in the nightstand, but she doesn't. Instead, she does something I didn't expect.
With a painfully slow motion, she slides down on me, letting me feel her heat without anything separating us. I've never slept with anyone without that extra layer of protection, but I'm pretty sure I'm ruined now.
Everything is different, better—almost too good. Tightly sheathed inside her, I moan, feeling it turn into a near growl as she starts rocking, owning me right now. Needing to pull her even closer, I grab her hips and start sliding her against me each time she comes down.
But I need her lips, so I sit up, putting us face to face as she continues to control the rhythm. When her lips brush mine, they're softer, swollen, and perfect. Her movements aren't hurried or frantic, but this is more passionate than anything I've ever felt before.
"I love you," she whispers against my lips.
The power she has over me can scare me some other time. Right now, I'm lost in the peace those words bring me. I pull her closer, slipping my tongue into her mouth, as sweat begins to gather on both of us.
When her nails dig into my shoulders, I start worrying I'm not going to last long enough for her to come. Her hips come down harder with every fall, making my balls tighten in anticipation.
Then it happens almost simultaneously, as she says my name in a praising whisper meant for gods, and her name flows through my lips involuntarily. There's no question about how I feel for her.
We both collapse to the bed, and within minutes, she's asleep in my arms. I kiss her sweetly across her shoulders, waiting until I know for certain she can't hear me.
"I love you, too, Raya."
"Mr. Colton, your table will be ready at seven. You'll have the terrace to yourself," the happy-to-oblige man says over the phone.
I've tried at least a hundred times to stop smiling, but I can't. Dad called me today to tell me Granddad went to get his treatment, meaning he's still trying to give us as much time as possible, and Raya somehow made everything seem better last night. I'm tired of fighting it, or fearing it, or what the hell ever. I want to be with Raya, and I want to give her everything, starting with one hell of a date.
"Thanks," I say before hanging up, my eyes moving to the new dress on my bed. Raya is going to look stunning in this.
I want to text her again, just to tell her she needs to come straight home, but I can't do it. I've probably already made myself look pathetic, but... ah, fuck it. I don't care if I look pathetic.
As soon as I pull out my phone, the doorbell rings. That's obviously not Raya. It had so better not be that friend of her father's.
Speaking of her father, maybe after I finally tell her how I feel, she'll trust me enough to let me in and tell me what's going on there.
I jerk the door open, and immediately regret not looking through the window. Son of a bitch. Courtney Hughes.
"What do you want?" I ask, scowling at the girl who has a wicked gleam in her eyes.
She's up to something.
"I came to speak to you. I figured you wouldn't answer my calls, so—"
"You're right. I wouldn't have. Raya is on her way home, and we have plans, so you should go," I interrupt, closing the door, but the bitch stops it with her high heel.
I debate whether or not I should slam the door on her foot, but reluctantly pull back as she pushes her way through.
"Your manners are always astounding," she says as she walks by me, pissing me off.
"What the hell are you doing?" I growl, following behind her as her monstrous purse weighs her down.
"Saving your ungrateful ass."
My steps slow as I try to decipher those words. I've got nothing.
"How are you saving my ungrateful ass?"
I follow her into the living room as she drops to the couch, and she pulls out several large manila envelopes. She looks at me as she starts dumping out their contents, and my stomach clenches when I see a picture of Raya leaving the... prison? Why the hell would she be at a prison?
I pick it up, studying it as my mind searches for answers. This is recent. Those are my father's clothes on her body.
"What is this?" I ask, glancing down at several other pages that have more words than I care to read.
Courtney hands me one, and I warily accept it, absently sitting down on the couch.
"This is your girlfriend's big, bad secret. Her father's name is Ray Drivel. He's a conman, Kade. A big time conman. This guy would put anyone you've ever heard of to shame. He stole millions before he was caught, and daddy's girl is very devoted to him."
I get sick, but this doesn't make sense. Why wouldn't Raya tell me this?
"How did you find this out?" I ask, growing sicker with every flip of the page.
This guy did some twisted shit, but he was only put in prison for one of them, due to lack of evidence for everything else. He knows more rich people than I do, and he scammed them all.
"I asked questions. The way you should have when a poor girl magically ended up in your house."
I turn to glare at her, ready to knock her smug ass off my couch. She sighs as she puts her hand on my shoulder, but I shrug her off.
"Her dad is a conman, but that doesn't mean Raya condones this," I snap.
I know that's where she's going with this, but she's crazy if she thinks I'm leaving Raya over something her father did. His crimes aren't hers.
"Doesn't she?" she asks, looking as though she pities me.
Then she grabs several photos from the side. Pictures of the visitor's logs from the past several months. They're from the prison. Raya's name is signed in almost every month, and she stays for the full length of the visiting hours.
"The guy at the desk says she's been coming since the day he got locked up. They play cards and shit. They never argue as far as he knows. She talks to him on a regular basis, too. They're close."
Raya's words come back to me. The day she was talking about her father, she alluded to the fact they're close. She also said it was complicated. Complicated isn't exactly what I would call this. Crazy? That's a good word. What sane person goes to see a man who has no morals and enjoys seeing rich people go broke just because he feels superior to them?
"If you did this to make me—"
"I didn't," Courtney interrupts, most likely l
ying her ass off. "I did this because I'm worried about you. Raya's just like him. She's good at conning people. All the people in her town—"
"You went to her hometown?" I ask, scooting away from the psycho stalker beside me.
She rolls her eyes as though I'm being ridiculous. Yeah, I'm the one not acting appropriately. Crazy world.
"I had to. After I did some digging and realized that Capperton was just a name she ended up with, considering her father was using it as an alias at the time, I needed details. Everyone there was eager to talk. They said Raya is just as skilled at the game as he is. She hustles. I know that. Lyle even said she worked the pool table like a professional."
My teeth grind just thinking back to that night, and she sighs.
"Don't you see? She was working her angle with you, but I know how incredibly hard you are to get to. My brother offered her an easy target, considering he was drooling over her and lapping up everything she said. She had him by the balls in less than five minutes. You saw it. Just so happens that it worked out better for her that you had a jealous streak. In the end, she got exactly what she wanted."
My chest tightens, but I shake my head, swallowing back bile.
"She... That's not... Raya didn't do that to make me jealous, and she wasn't trying to get to Lyle. She just—"
"What? Went on a date with a guy she didn't know? A rich guy who was practically begging to lick her feet? Hmm. Yeah, that sounds perfectly innocent. And then she plays a game of seduction and intrigue. You saw the way she was bending over and acting."
"You have to bend over a pool table to make shots like she was making," I counter, desperately grabbing on to anything that makes sense of all this. She wouldn't. She couldn't.
"And you don't find it coincidental that she manages to end up in the house with you when she was supposedly flat broke?"
That pisses me off. "It wasn't her fault that those idiots crashed into her house. I was there. Raya was lucky to survive."
Courtney shakes her head, acting as though I'm some poor fool in need of salvation.