Quiver (Revenge Book 1)

by Burns, Trevion

  “I am madly in love with you.” He seized her hips with splayed fingers, his voice strangled with the same vulnerability staining his eyes. “And these are my hips.” His greedy fingers traveled behind her, cupping her. “This is my ass.” They climbed her back, circling around to her breasts, which he took under a gentle hold. “These are my breasts.” Up to her face, where the pads of his fingers stroked her mouth. “This is my bottom lip. My top lip. My nose. My eyes.” He buried his hand in her hair. “These are my curls.” He tangled his fingers in them and pulled her in.

  Veda tried to fight every muscle in her heart that screamed yes as he leaned close. She tried to heed every muscle in her mind that screamed no. She tried to stop her heels from kicking off the floor and taking her to her toes, to stop her chest from pushing up against his, to stop her fingers from taking his jaw under her grip. Her leopard-print nails sank into his cheeks, and even as she told herself to push him away, she drew him in and their lips met.

  They gasped together, and the kiss was instantly intense. Her arms were around his neck and they were tilting their heads, letting their panting tongues sweep together.

  The embrace went on until the smack of their lips and the heat flying from their flared nostrils had filled the stairwell, echoing as it bounced off the walls.

  Her pussy squeezed for more, and when he ripped apart the drawstring at the waistband of her scrubs, it took everything Veda had to take his shoulders and push him away.

  “No.”

  He zeroed back in. “I will end this engagement tonight, even if it means turning my life upside down.” He took her jaw in his hands, pressing his forehead to hers with desperate eyes. “I will end it tonight, Veda. But I need to know… I need to know….”

  Veda knew what he couldn’t say. She knew what he needed.

  And she knew she couldn’t give it to him.

  The vial in the pocket of her scrubs suddenly felt like it weighed a thousand tons, reminding her of what she needed to do that night. What she’d been on the way to do before he’d pulled her into that stairwell and muddied up her mind.

  She now understood that she couldn’t give him the chance at all.

  She couldn’t give him the chance to kiss her, touch her, or even talk to her.

  She couldn’t give him the chance to be this close because she couldn’t trust her own body.

  She tried to say the words she knew she had to say, but her throat choked them back like they’d serve as poison the moment they hit her tongue, killing her instantly. It took a few tries, but she finally managed to croak, “This is why we had limits. We never argued like this when we had limits, did we? This is exactly why the danger zone was to be avoided at all costs. But you insisted on….” She took chunks of his shirt into her fists at the horrified look that filled his eyes. “On trouncing all over it—” The words broke. With a strangled breath, she bent down, snuck under his arm, and went for the door.

  “No, Veda—” He caught hold of her upper arm, stopping her, raising his voice as he tightened his hold. “Veda, I’m talking to you.”

  She stumbled back, met his eyes, and then lowered her gaze to the fierce hold he had on her arm.

  “I want to go back downstairs.” Veda tried to pry her arm from Todd’s painfully tight grip, wondering when the room had started spinning. Her vision blurred, her drink dropped from her hand, and she only distantly heard it crash to the floor as she clapped a hand over her burning forehead, slurring, “I don’t want to go in there.”

  “Don’t grab me,” she said, her teeth clenching as she realized this had never happened before. She’d never flashed back to that night while in Gage’s presence. Not once. “Don’t grab me like that.”

  Whatever he saw in her eyes made him release her with a look of deep regret, breathing out, “I’m sorry.”

  Veda didn’t know why, but even then, even after he’d freed her, she couldn’t make herself leave. She couldn’t make herself walk away. When a silent tear raced from the corner of his eye, blazing down his cheek and plummeting to the concrete floor, her heart split in two.

  “I want more,” he whispered, and the words sent another tear racing after the first.

  Veda didn’t always know what she wanted, but she knew she never wanted this. She never wanted to see him hurt.

  When a tear fell over her own cheek, she didn’t bother wiping it away.

  He motioned to her, his lips curling down. “You want limits. You don’t want to be with me. But you’re crying? Why are you doing this? Why are you fighting so hard? Against something that’s so… so damn good?” It was as if his words added fuel to the fire burning inside him, making the flames fill his eyes and raise his voice. “Why did it take two months before you finally let me kiss you? Why can’t I look in your eyes when I’m inside you without feeling like I’m deflowering a virgin? Why does the slightest whiff of real intimacy make you close up around my dick like a hydraulic press? Why can’t you…?” He couldn’t finish.

  “Gage….” She slapped the moisture off her face with the back of her hand, his words having sent her heart shooting to her throat, forcing her to take a moment to collect herself. “Gage, I’m… broken.” Her stomach seemed to cave in on itself the moment she said the words. “I’m broken. I’ll never be able to give you what you deserve. You deserve a girl who… who can love you the same way you love her.”

  “I don’t want another girl, Veda. I want you. I just want you. Why can’t you…?” His voice wavered, and he looked away when his eyes grew moist again. He sucked in a breath before shooting daggers back at her. “Why can’t you trust that?”

  Her chest convulsed as she tried to fight the tears collecting in her eyes.

  Whatever he saw in them forced him to step forward, his own eyes panicked as he held her chin in his palms. “We’ll fix it.” He pushed his thumbs into her cheeks so furiously it caused dimples. “We’ll figure out what’s broken, and we’ll piece it back together.”

  “You can’t piece me back together.”

  “Have you even tried?”

  She moved his hands from her face. “You think I haven’t tried? You think I enjoy standing here, watching you look at me like some… like some experiment? Some charity case?”

  Gage frowned, shaking his head.

  “You can’t put something back together when the most important pieces have already exploded to dust. You can’t fix something that’s already been obliterated. With nothing tangible left.”

  “You’re not nothing.” His face grew serious. “You’re not nothing to me.”

  She backed away.

  He jolted and seemed on the verge of following, but something stopped him, causing his shoulders to sink.

  She put her hand on the handle of the door. “Go home. Marry Scarlett. Live the life you were meant to live before I showed up and made a mess of it all. I’ll only hurt you, Gage. I’ll only ruin you.” She sniffled. “It’s all I know how to do.”

  Gage watched her for a long moment, and then he turned away, giving her his backside with his hand over his mouth.

  She understood.

  He couldn’t watch her walk away.

  So she left as quickly as she could, not just to spare him any more pain, but to spare herself too. She hurried out into the hallway and didn’t look back.

  She couldn’t look back.

  She knew if she did, she’d give it all up.

  Coco’s retribution.

  Her own retribution.

  The retribution of the countless other women whose lives he’d surely ruined. Women who would never step forward out of fear, shame, or perhaps even guilt.

  Veda was done being afraid. She was done being ashamed. She was done feeling guilty about something that wasn’t her fault. Something that had never been her fault.

  “He says I deserved it.”

  Unlike Coco, Veda wasn’t a teenager anymore. She was a grown-ass woman who knew what was real.

  She was a grown-ass woman w
ho knew Todd Lockwood had to die. He had to die tonight.

  And the nine other animals who’d stolen her soul had to die too. If Veda had to end them all herself, she would.

  And she’d do it with a song in her heart.

  13

  After being stupid enough to allow herself to carry on a friends-with-benefits relationship with Gage, and subsequently losing complete sight of who she was and what she was about, Veda had been convinced that the months she’d spent following Todd Lockwood had been a complete waste.

  But as she stood at the fireplace in his prominent mansion, which sat just a few houses down from the man she’d broken up with earlier that evening, she knew it hadn’t all been for nothing. Months of trailing Todd had brought her to that very night, that very moment, that very second.

  And at that very second, she knew she would’ve never made it into his house so easily if she hadn’t learned that he kept a spare key hidden under the planter next to the front door. If he didn’t have a habit of leaving all of his windows wide open, she’d never know that, once he arrived home, he always went straight upstairs to his master bathroom. That he always took a shower before he touched anything in his home. That there was a crook in that bathroom, between the door and the sink, where she would fit perfectly.

  She knew him better than she knew herself.

  She knew she could scrutinize the picture frames that lined his white stone fireplace with great patience because he wasn’t set to be home for another fifteen minutes. She could take her time drinking in every image, each one telling a different lie about who he really was. Photos of his friends, his family, some just of him holding awards from various accomplishments made throughout his life. He even had a photo of a young Coco, second to last on the mantle, smiling a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  Veda now knew why Coco’s smile struggled. She realized Coco’s age in that photo wasn’t far off from the age she’d claimed Todd had first snuck into her room. Her stomach went sick at the thought.

  Even if Veda were capable of feeling guilt or empathy, she couldn’t deny that there was simply no hope for Todd Lockwood. He’d hurt Veda, just like he’d hurt Coco, just like he’d hurt that girl from the beach, Sarah Adams, all those months ago.

  He would never stop.

  How many had there been?

  As far as Veda was concerned, if Todd hadn’t stopped, neither had the other nine who’d been with him that night. God only knew how many other Vedas, Cocos, and Sarahs were out there, scared into silence. Shamed into silence.

  Veda adjusted the black Under Armour mask that concealed her entire face. She struggled to get a good grip with the black leather gloves blocking her touch sensors, but she managed. At first the mesh barrier that hid her eyes had made it difficult to see, almost unbearably aggravating, but she’d gotten used to it.

  As she came to the last photo on the mantle, the anger she felt for Coco vanished in an instant, replaced with blind revulsion. Just like that, she was taken to a place she didn’t want to be but couldn’t escape. A place that had forced her to end a relationship with the only man who’d ever truly loved her. A place that’d turned her into a woman who could only exist to punish, never to love.

  She reached up and took hold of the picture frame. Her gloved hand shook as she lifted it from the mantle, bringing it closer.

  All nine of them, along with a dozen other young men who made up Shadow Rock High’s varsity and junior varsity basketball team, were huddled into a tight circle, mugging for the camera. Veda knew one of those shit-eating grins belonged to her number ten, and she found herself drinking in all their faces hungrily, memorizing them because she wouldn’t sleep until she knew every single name.

  Every single name that had to die.

  The tip of her thumb stroked the smirk on Todd’s face. He donned a red T-shirt that looked an awful lot like the one he’d been wearing that night. In fact, they were all wearing the same clothes.

  Realization hit, and a chill zoomed down her spine.

  The photo had been taken that night.

  Heart thumping twice as hard, Veda let her thumb travel over each of the boys’ smiling faces before moving to the exuberant faces of their fellow party-goers, littering the house in the background. She touched each face with her thumb, memorizing those as well, just in case her number ten hadn’t been a player on the basketball team but a random she’d never expect. The glass squeaked under her leather glove as she drew a path up the winding staircase at the rear of the photo. The same staircase Todd had hauled her up against her will when she’d been too inebriated to fight.

  She gasped when her eyes landed on a young boy sitting at the top of the stairs, peeking around the corner, brown eyes big like a curious puppy that hadn’t been invited to the festivities.

  She’d know those brown eyes anywhere.

  And she knew instantly she was looking at a young Gage Blackwater.

  Of course he’d been at the party that night; it’d been held at his house. She remembered their conversation in the elevator, when Gage had told her Todd was once like a big brother to him. How Todd was still like a son to his parents. He’d probably manipulated a young Gage into throwing that party at his home, taking advantage of the fact that his parents had been on vacation. In the picture, however, Gage was hiding. Apparently he hadn’t been invited to a party held in his own home.

  Veda couldn’t help but wonder if Gage knew the dark side of his ‘friends.’ The dark side Coco had alluded to existing in his family? Did Gage have a dark side too? If he did, he’d done a hell of a job hiding it.

  She didn’t know what she felt pounding through her body and shortening her breath, but she did know that she had no interest in venturing the deep dips and valleys her mind was attempting to take her to.

  Headlights blazed through the sheer white curtains of the living room window, along with the roar of what she knew to be an Aston Martin engine.

  She shoved the picture frame into the black messenger bag on her hip as quickly as possible, racing for the stairs just as the growling engine outside was killed.

  Then silence.

  The jingling of keys outside the door.

  Skipping the steps two at a time, Veda couldn’t help but notice that her heart was no longer pounding out of control.

  For the first time in years, her heart was at peace.

  Todd Lockwood was home, and he had no idea the fate that awaited him.

  —

  She could hear herself breathing. Even as she tried to control it, only allowing the air to escape through her nostrils, it still sounded so loud to Veda that she was convinced Todd could hear it from where he was stomping up his stairs. She pressed herself deeper into the quiet nook in his pitch-black master bathroom. Though she found it no surprise that his bathroom smelled strongly of bleach and disinfectant, it was irritating her and beginning to burn her nose. With every breath she took it seemed the strong scent got trapped under the polyester mask even more, making her feel suffocated. Moments later, it even began to burn her eyes, making them water.

  Or perhaps her eyes were watering with tears of joy.

  Yes, that had to be it. Joy because this son of a bitch’s days were numbered.

  She clutched the syringe in her hand when his bedroom door squeaked open, a dim yellow glow illuminating the bathroom after he flicked on the bedroom light. The stomp of his feet moved across the wood floors, and Veda counted each step he took closer to the bathroom. The rustle of his clothes grew louder, closer, as he removed them and dropped them on the floor on his journey.

  Her mouth watered in anticipation when he cast his massive shadow on the tile floors of the bathroom.

  The bathroom mirror reflected his dark silhouette as it filled the doorframe. She held her breath when he flicked on the light and she saw herself in that mirror too, cloaked in black from head to toe.

  Todd entered the bathroom with his eyes lowered. He dipped his fingers into the waistband of his
boxers—the only remaining article of clothing he wore—stopping just long enough to bend over and push them down his legs.

  Veda stepped out of the nook, knowing it was now or never, allowing only the faintest gasp to escape her lips as she pushed the needle into his neck.

  His gasp was anything but faint, and Veda didn’t even allow enough time for the shocked sound to finish leaving his lips before she’d pressed down on the lever, releasing just enough sodium thiopental into his jugular to depress his respiratory activity.

  Still bent at the waist, Todd turned his head toward her, locking onto the black mesh eyes of her mask, his own blue eyes wide with horror. He tried to speak, and Veda nearly laughed. A for effort, she supposed. It took thirty seconds for the drug to reach his brain and knock him out, but only a few seconds to paralyze his vocal chords. The sound of his own croaking voice seemed to panic Todd more; his eyes, rapidly growing bloodshot, exploded to twice their size. He tried to reach for her but, bless his heart, fifteen seconds had already elapsed, and he only managed to brush the tips of his trembling fingers against her thigh before his knees gave out.

  “Nighty-night,” Veda whispered, the same way she would to a small child, as he hit the floor. “You unimaginable piece of absolute fucking shit.”

  God, did she hate him. She couldn’t fathom how it was even possible to hate a human being as much as she hated him. Falling to her knees next to his body, sucking air into her lungs with such ferocity the mask caught between her teeth, she studied his sleeping face. Seizing his wrist, she monitored his pulse, allowing herself a moment to note the baby face she’d never noticed he had. After taking mental record of his heart rhythm, she brought the syringe’s needle back to the vein in his neck.

  She’d already given him 75 mg, the typical induction dose administered to her patients prior to surgery. If she stopped now, he’d be awake in twelve hours.

  But she had no plans on stopping now.

  If she tripled that dosage—as easy as another firm push on the syringe lever—the drug would enter his fat stores and put him in a medically induced coma. If she tripled it again, he’d have the same amount of poison rushing through his veins as a death row prisoner enduring a lethal injection.