Prevail (Triumph Book 3)

by S. J. McGran

  By the time, I pull into a parking spot at her apartment complex I’m in a near panic. I have no idea what to do next, where to go, what to say. I was so close to breaking down one of her walls, I’ll be damned if I just stand here while she rebuilds it.

  “Thanks for the ride. Have fun this weekend,” she says before I can come up with anything worth saying.

  Like the dumbass I am, I sit there, rooted to my seat as she makes her way down the path to her front door. I keep my eyes trained on her back begging her to turn around to run back to me. To kiss me like she was so close to doing back at Ryan’s. To open her damn eyes and give me a chance.

  In that moment, I realize exactly where I’ve gone wrong. All this time I’ve been waiting for her to come to me, to make the first move, to prove to me that she wants me. I should have been the one pursuing her all along. I promised her I’d fight and I haven’t even broken a sweat, haven’t put in a single ounce of effort.

  Well no more. I’m throwing down the fucking gauntlet. I’m staking my claim. I’ll beat my fucking chest and roar if I have to. That girl is going to open her fucking eyes and fall into my open arms if it’s the last thing I do.

  Shoving my truck door open I sprint up the walk toward Riley, toward my future. Toward the only damn thing I’ve ever really wanted in this shitty life I’ve lived.

  “Kit, stop.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Riley

  A warm spring breeze blows through the front door causing my hair to flutter with it, but all I feel is the icy fear as it moves through my veins. I hear Rico calling my name in the distance, but he sounds so far away, all I can focus on is the destruction in front of me.

  “Ri,” Rico’s deep voice stops immediately as he gets close enough to see what’s left of my living room. His strong hands wrap around my waist gently, but forcefully pushing me behind him. “What the fuck?”

  I should say something, I should feel something but I don’t. Can’t. My voice is trapped in my throat, my emotions buried beneath the numbness I’m so familiar with. There’s only one possible explanation for this… this mess. This invasion.

  William.

  My front door is wide open. The walls to the entryway are full of holes from what I can only assume were his fists. My couches have slashes in the cushions, the bookshelves are tipped over with their contents scattered in broken pieces around the room.

  It’s a fucking mess and I’m still looking at it all from the front step. I’ve yet dared to step over the threshold and take a closer look.

  Rico looks back at me his expression a mix between fear and fury. His jaw and fists are clenched tightly as he restrains himself just barely from letting out what he’s really feeling. I watch him work at calming himself down. His eyes soften, the worry he’s feeling evident in them. I know he’s trying to read me, trying to gauge my emotions. But, I can already tell he’s not going to get much. I’m numb, closed off.

  His arm reaches toward me but instinct, fear have taken hold of me and I flinch back. I barely register the pain on his face as he drops his arm to his side.

  “Stay here,” he growls at me. “I’m going to go make sure no one is here.”

  I manage to force a stiff nod. I want to tell him not to worry about it. William has long since been gone. He’s a fucking coward he wouldn’t stick around and take the chances of getting caught.

  He came to give me a message: He knows where I am.

  William operated on my self-doubt, on my meekness for so long. He knows destroying my home, the place I most likely feel safest in, is the easiest way to rattle me. He couldn’t get to me at my office—because of Rico—so this was the next best thing.

  I hate that he’s able to get to me still. I hate that he’s scared me enough to keep me from going into my own house. I hate that he still has power over me.

  Hot tears stream down my cheeks. I feel weak. I feel violated. When will this stop? When will he go away? When will I be able to move on with my life?

  Rico steps outside his face strained with anger and disgust. Seeing how upset I am he instantly wraps me in his arms. I take comfort in his hold. I don’t want to. I promised myself I would never rely on a man again, but in this moment I need him. I need his strength.

  I might be stronger than I was when I was with William, but I’m not Super Woman. I’m still fucking terrified at the lengths William is willing to go to torture me. I feel completely violated. Insecure. Unsafe.

  I need Rico right now. I need his support. His arms. His gentle words. I’m terrified that he’ll hurt me, too. I know he’d never hurt me the way William did—is—but Rico can still hurt me and probably will. Right now though, in this moment where I feel so alone, I need to believe that he’ll keep me safe. At least for tonight.

  His words brush the top of my head, “It was your ex, wasn’t it?” I just nod, leery of how he came to that conclusion. “Yeah, thought so. He didn’t touch Roxy’s shit. Your room is destroyed. Your, um…” He breaks off and I can feel the anger rolling off of him in waves. I brace myself for what he’s about to tell me, knowing whatever has him this upset is only going to be that much worse for me. “He cleaned out your underwear drawer, Riley.”

  Bile creeps up my throat, my stomach churning with disgust. Shoving out of Rico’s hold I twist and fall to my knees. My body’s only defense against the turmoil roiling in my blood is to purge it. I barely clear our feet, the concrete of the front porch before I empty my stomach into the bushes. His hands gently brush my hair out of my face and hold it back as I continue to heave. I want to tell him to go away, to leave me alone, to run the other way, but some part of me—a part I’ll examine later, much later—needs him here.

  When I’m finally done, I slump back on my heels. My chest rises and falls rapidly as I try to catch my breath. My mouth tastes horrible. My throat and eyes burn.

  Rico’s voice whispers against my ear, “I’ll be right back.” I just nod in answer.

  I don’t know how long he’s gone, or what he’s doing but when he comes back I’m still in the same position I was when he left me. Grabbing me by my arms he gently pulls me to my feet and turns me toward him. I keep my eyes on the ground almost afraid of what I’ll see in his eyes. I don’t want his pity.

  I see his hand come into my line of sight, and in it is a washcloth. He must have run inside to grab one. I lift my head and meet his eyes as he silently raises the damp washcloth to my forehead. When I see nothing but kindness and understanding in his chocolate brown orbs, I’m relieved. His touch is so soft and tender as he runs the cloth down my cheeks and across my lips it nearly breaks the dam of tears I’ve finally been able to stop.

  “You’re staying with me this weekend, Kit. No arguments.”

  “’Kay.” My voice is hoarse from being sick and from being quiet for so long. It’s the first word I’ve spoken since I walked in the door. I feel like I should have said something more significant, should have screamed when I saw the destruction, should have reacted somehow but I feel so numb, so hollow I can’t even come up with a better response.

  Rico’s soft lips press against my forehead, it’s not the first time he’s kissed me like this, but this kiss is so much more potent. The emotions from the day—from the almost kiss in the nursery, to coming home to this—pour out through his simple touch. I can feel his need to touch me, to make sure I’m okay, it’s almost as strong as my need for him to touch me and comfort me.

  “I called the cops already, so as soon as they are done we’ll pack a bag and get out of here, okay?” I nod again as I pull out of his grasp and take a seat on the front step.

  Rico sits down next to me and pulls me under his arm again almost as if he needs to keep touching me, keep me close as much as I need him to keep holding me. I pull my phone out of my purse that I am still tightly clutching in my hand to text Roxy. I let her know what’s going on and to stay away for a few days, at least until I get back on Monday.

  When the cops pull up a
brief wave of relief rolls through me. The night is finally almost over. I’m still in a daze as I answer their barrage of questions.

  Yes, I’m pretty sure it was William Stephens that did this.

  Yes, I have a restraining order against him.

  Yes, I’ve already reported the last time he broke his restraining order.

  No, I don’t know where he’s staying.

  No, I don’t still associate myself with any of his friends.

  No, I don’t know why he’s still doing this to me.

  No, I haven’t been inside yet, so I’m not sure what all is missing.

  Then, they made me walk through the house with them. I pointed out the things that were missing or destroyed that might not have been as obvious. When we stepped into my room, I let out a long breath. “Holy shit.”

  My bedroom looks much like the living room. Everything is flipped on its side, all my drawers have been dumped out. All of my picture frames have been smashed.

  All of my underwear are indeed missing and I almost laugh at that. What the fuck kind of sicko steals someone’s underwear?

  I tell the cops about the missing underwear, but it seems nothing else is missing. They look just as put out as I do. Rico looks pissed all over again, his hand gripping my waist tightly. I stand there numb as the cops poke around and make a few notes. Rico lets them know we are going out of town for the weekend, so if they need anything else they’ll need to get it tonight or when we come back on Monday. They assure us they’ll call if they need anything else and give us permission to pack up a few things to take with me.

  “I’m going to walk them out. Pack your bag, baby. Make sure you pack a dress for Jared’s wedding.” His lips twitch in a semi-smile as he tries to lighten the mood slightly. I just nod at him and shake the cop’s hands. He gives me a soft kiss on my forehead and he leaves me alone.

  I stand there immobile for a moment. I almost call Rico back to help me go pack my bag. I want to hide out in his truck and pretend nothing is wrong. But, I can’t. I have to do this. Somehow.

  Shaking my head, I try to concentrate on the task at hand. Packing. Getting the fuck out of this room. Heading to my closet I dig through the mess for my duffle bag. I sift through the clothes strewn on the floor to find something decent to wear. Grabbing a few shirts and a couple of dresses I shove them unceremoniously into my bag.

  At the thought of going out of town with Rico, going to Jared’s—a virtual stranger’s—wedding I let out a humorless laugh. They are going to think I’m insane when they find out why I’m there. They are going to tell Rico to run as fast as he can away from me, and I can’t really blame them.

  I don’t even know why he’s still around as is. After William punched him in the face, he should have run, but this will definitely scare him away. After this weekend, after he makes sure I’m relatively safe, that’s probably exactly what he’ll do. Disappear for good.

  “Kit?” His soft, raspy voice echoes through the room breaking me out of my thoughts. I’m sitting cross-legged on the floor my bag to my chest. I hadn’t even realized I wasn’t moving anymore. His face is etched with concern as he moves towards me cautiously. “Let me help you, baby.”

  I watch in a daze as he squats down in front of me taking my clothes and bag out of my hands. He removes the few items of clothing I’ve managed to grab and refolds them, before standing and grabbing jeans, sweats, socks and tennis shoes.

  “What shoes for the dress?”

  I bust out laughing at his question and seriously consider telling him to forget the weekend getaway. He needs to drive me to the nearest crazy house and leave me there. I’ve officially lost my damn mind.

  Finally regaining my composure I look up to find him leaning against the wall near the closet looking at me with a look of amusement. “Something funny to you, kitten?”

  My head bobs up and down. “The red wedges, please,” is all I say though. The situation might be funny to me, but I’m not entirely sure why or how to explain the jumble of thoughts bouncing through my mind.

  Rico grabs the shoes tossing them into the bag before reaching his hand out to me, pulling me to my feet. “Anything else you need?”

  “Um, I’ll need to stop and buy some new underwear,” I mumble quietly, dropping my eyes to the floor. How ridiculous that after everything that’s happened tonight I’m still embarrassed to talk about my undergarments?

  “Okay,” he says simply and I swear I could kiss him for not cracking a joke.

  With his hand on the small of my back, he guides me quickly forward out of the ruin. He shuts and locks the door behind him and continues pushing me toward his truck. I’m nearly desperate to get out of here, so I’m thankful for his impatience. All I want to do is shower away the filth I feel from being so violated, curl up into a warm bed, and sleep until I forget about everything that’s happened today.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Riley

  God, I feel like shit. My mouth tastes like, ugh, I don’t even know, but it tastes disgusting. My eyes burn as I try to blink them open. My back hurts from all the dry heaving I did last night. My head hurts from lack of sleep. Everything fucking hurts.

  Unwilling to wake up I curl into a ball and cocoon myself in the thick black blanket I’ve been using all night. Digging my face into the pillow I breathe in deeply through my nose. Rico’s musky, masculine scent assaults my senses.

  Damn, that’s a good smell. It’s this intoxicating mix of sawdust, dirt, man, and clean soap. It’s a scent completely unique to Rico and one I intend on savoring while I have the chance.

  I’m not even aware of the soft mewl I let out until Rico’s voice carries through the room, “Damn, baby. You’ve gotta stop making that sound around me.”

  Snapping my eyes open I roll in the direction his voice came from. He’s standing in the door dressed in jeans and a tight gray t-shirt. His longish hair is still damp from his morning shower. He looks as delicious as his smell.

  Ignoring the way my body takes interest in him, ignoring the heat of embarrassment on my cheeks at being caught by him, and ignoring the overall awkwardness of this whole situation I say the only thing I possibly can right now, “Hey.” I want to groan and hide under the covers at my lameness.

  Rico only chuckles lightly as he moves across the room, dropping to the edge of the bed he invades my space in a way only he can—a way that makes it known that he’s there, but in a way that is comforting and unassuming at the same time.

  “We have to leave in about an hour if you wanted to get up and get showered.” When I only nod he reaches his hand out to rub a gentle path down my bare arm. The change from playful to serious happens instantly. “How you holding up today, Riley?”

  “I’m okay,” I manage to rasp out through my sore throat. “Thanks for everything, Rico.”

  “Sure thing, baby.” He’s quiet for a moment, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. I’m watching him so closely I see the second he decides to let whatever it is go—his eyes go from dark and stormy, to a soft chocolate brown. With a slap on my ass, he pushes off the bed. “Get up and get ready, I’ll cook us breakfast.”

  ***

  Settling into the passenger seat of Rico’s truck I try to shake off the rigidity. It’s still unnerving having him this close. The tension between us, sexual and otherwise, is palpable. I want so badly to have the right to reach over and take his hand in mine, to lean my head against his shoulder and fall asleep on the hour-long ride. But, he’s not mine to do those things with. I don’t even know if Rico’s a friend or if we just have some completely messed up client-therapist relationship.

  I’m so damn confused.

  “Quit,” Rico’s deep voice breaks me out of my thoughts. “Quit thinking so much. I don’t know what you’re thinking about but quit. Just relax and have fun. We’ll figure everything out when we get back Sunday, okay?”

  Can I do that? Can I just forget about everything I have to fix when I get home; about everything I w
ant but can’t have with Rico? Can I just be for a few days?

  I don’t know, but I owe it to myself to at least try. Looking over at his handsome face I flash him a smile letting him know I’ll try. He chuckles lightly at me before wrapping my hand in his. I stare at our joined hands as they rest on his thigh and wait for the panic to set in.

  But, it never does. I sigh contentedly letting myself enjoy the feel of him holding me. The familiarity it brings. The comfort.

  This. This is everything. I want this. Now I just have to find a way to get over my fears, my doubts and make it happen.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Rico

  It takes everything in me to not bust out laughing at Riley’s expression when I tell her we’ll be sharing a room. She looks terrified, pissed, excited, and nervous all at once. It’s quite adorable… and hysterical.

  We’ve been at the lake house where Jared and Zhoe’s wedding is to take place for about an hour now. Riley just met the girls and was thoroughly embarrassed by Jared and Ryan. When she stormed away from the group I thought she was pissed, but she was just mortified by Jared’s offhanded comment about her being last night’s bachelor party entertainment.

  When I caught up to her, I asked her if she wanted to head into town, to the bed and breakfast we’re staying at to check in. To which she readily agreed, desperate to get away from my asshole friends for a bit.

  “I hope they aren’t full,” she says as we start walking toward our vehicle.

  “What are you talking about? I have a reservation.”

  She looks at me like I’m an idiot, “Right, you do, but I don’t have one.”

  “Baby, you’re staying with me.” They are for sure full since the bed and breakfast has only three rooms and the entire wedding party is staying there, but I’m also not letting her out of my sight. I have a hard time believing her crazy ex followed us all the way out here, but I’m not taking that chance. She’s staying with me. Period.