Beg For You (Rocktown Ink #1)

by Sherilee Gray

  Mr. GQ looked me over and frowned as well. “Can I help you?”

  Something unwanted started clawing inside my gut instantly, something ugly. “I’m looking for Cassy. This her place?”

  The guy gave me another once-over. “There’s no one here that goes by that name.”

  Relief hammered me hard enough to knock me on my ass. She must have gone to the main house. Maybe they rented this one out? “Sorry, wrong place.” I turned to walk away.

  “There’s definitely no one here named Cassy. But Cassandra Deighton lives here,” he said, voice smug.

  I stopped and turned back, that clawing feeling intensifying. “She here?”

  The other man’s blue eyes turned cold. “My fiancée is in the shower right now.”

  “Fiancée?” I couldn’t stop the word from exploding past my lips.

  The guy’s back straightened. “Who the hell are you and what do you want with Cassandra?”

  She was getting married?

  Married.

  Which meant this wasn’t new, that she had to have been seeing this asshole for a while. It also meant she’d been with him while she was fucking around with me.

  My brain felt like it was short-circuiting. None of this felt right. But this fucker, her fiancé, was standing right the fuck in front of me.

  I felt like the wind had been punched out of my lungs with a crowbar.

  The Cassy I thought she’d been showing me was nothing but a goddamn lie?

  Jesus, I’d felt shit for using her, and what do you know, she really had been using me right back.

  Cassandra Deighton was exactly who I thought she was when she walked into my shop all those weeks ago. She’d played a part, played me. She’d taken her walk on the wild side, had fucked the monster. Had gotten off on the ink, the scarred face, my fucked-up mind—had used me for a last fling before she married the Ken doll still staring at me from her front door, and it had backfired on her big time.

  “I’m no one.” I shook my head. “And I don’t want a damn thing from Cassandra Deighton.” I turned and strode back the way I’d come.

  I didn’t know who the fuck she was. And I sure as hell wasn’t interested in finding out, not anymore. But even as I thought those words, I knew I was lying to myself. Even now. I glanced down, almost expecting to see blood spurting from my chest. Shit, I felt like I was bleeding out.

  This whole fucking thing had backfired on me as well.

  Because I’d gone and fallen in love with her.

  With a goddamn lie.

  Two weeks had passed since I went to Cassandra’s place and made a fool of myself. I’d been trying so fucking hard to put her behind me, which wasn’t easy with Dane waving a picture of her under my nose. I yanked the newspaper from his hand, balled it, and fired it into the trash.

  “You need to stop that wedding,” Dane said. “At least talk to her.”

  I shoved up out of my seat. “Why would I do that?”

  Dane’s hands went to the counter. “I saw you together, the way you looked at her.”

  “It was an act…little brother—”

  “The way she looked at you,” he said over me. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed when you talk about her your speech starts giving you shit. We both know exactly why that is.”

  I growled as he yanked the paper back out of the trash and laid it on the counter in front of me. “Look at her. She looks fucking miserable.”

  I glanced down at the picture. Cassy was wearing a white dress suit, her fiancée on one side and her father on the other, in a formal announcement for family and friends.

  “She’s smiling,” I forced out past dry lips. “Doesn’t look too cut up…to me.”

  “That smile is false as hell. I’ve seen her smile, and I know you sure as hell have. Whatever is going on there, she doesn’t want it—”

  “Stop.” I shook my head. “Christ, why won’t you let go of this?”

  “You care about her, I know you do,” Dane said.

  “What I do or don’t feel means jack shit.” My hand shot out and slammed down on the newspaper. “She was seeing someone else the whole fucking time. I was a distraction, a final fling before she married Mr. Perfect. That’s it, that’s all it was.” I scrubbed my hands over my face then met my brother’s eyes. “She screwed me over just like her father did, just like her brother before that. She fooled me, I’ll grant you that. But all she succeeded in doing was making it easier for me.”

  “To do what?” Dane said, voice tight.

  “Revenge, little brother. What else?”

  My brother shook his head. “You’re making a mistake—”

  “We done?”

  Dane cursed and strode to the door.

  He yanked it open and turned back to me before he walked out. “Hurting her, it won’t change anything. It sure as fuck won’t stop the pain you’re feeling.” He stormed out and slammed the door after him, no doubt headed across the street to rat me out to Bull.

  My hand lifted to my chest, rubbing at the ache that had started up behind my ribs. I stared back down at Cassy, at her smug fucking fiancé and her asshole father.

  My gaze moved over her beautiful face, her lips that I’d tasted, remembering the way her skin felt under my fingers. The way her hair looked down and messy after I’d fucked her instead of the perfect bun she’d worn for the picture, not a hair out of place.

  Cold.

  The ice queen had put back on her crown.

  It had always been there, though, hadn’t it? She’d just hidden it from me to get what she wanted.

  You did the same thing to her.

  Yeah, I was a hypocrite and I owned it. But for me, somewhere along the way, the lines had become blurred. Revenge had stopped being important. Had been forgotten completely.

  It had felt real. What we’d had together had felt so fucking real.

  Which showed just how blind, how pathetic I was.

  I hated myself for it, but I wanted her still, and I got an awful feeling that I’d always want her. I didn’t know what to do with that.

  Dane was right. Nothing I did could change the past—it might make me feel better, though.

  But as I snatched the paper off the table, balled it up and flung it back in the trash, I wasn’t so sure about that either.

  Cassy

  I stared over at the main house, watching as car after car pulled up outside. Guests were arriving for what should have been a celebration—mine and Spencer’s engagement party. Instead, I felt dead inside, numb.

  Like I was getting ready for a funeral.

  My funeral.

  I’d felt that way since I ran from Cal’s apartment several weeks ago. Like I was about to step up to a noose. A vision of my father tightening the rope around my neck and kicking a stool out from under me flashed through my head.

  Jesus.

  I was going to throw up.

  Spinning away from the window, I ran to the bathroom and barely made it. What I’d managed to force down at lunch came up, and I pressed my hand to my churning stomach. My mind and body were rebelling against what was about to happen in every way it could. But instead of running like I was desperate to, I wiped my mouth, cleaned my teeth, and straightened my hair. It was too late to back out now. My father needed me, and this time I was going to come through for him. I wasn’t going to let him down again.

  My stomach roiled, but this time for a different reason.

  I’d done some snooping in my father’s office when I knew he was out, went through his personal correspondence, and dug up everything I could find from back then.

  I knew exactly what my father had done, how he’d torn Cal’s family apart.

  I hated, despised what he’d done to Dane, to Cal’s family. It was vicious and cruel, and so wrong, but I had to believe his actions were driven by grief, by the helplessness he’d felt back then. I had to.

  That didn’t excuse him—far from it—and I’d never forgive him for it. But none of it w
ould have happened if I’d told him about Chris from the start.

  All of this, all of it, was my fault and it was up to me to fix it.

  A flash of dark eyes, a scarred face, and a mouth that I could spend days, months…years kissing, invaded my mind like it had every day for the last few weeks.

  Just the memory of his voice lifted goose bumps across my skin. The ghost of his hands moving over me. The roughness of his palms, the heat, the demand in every touch had lit me up like nothing else ever had.

  For a short time, I’d been truly alive. Free.

  Those weeks I’d spent with Joel Calero had been the best of my entire life, and that was so damn pathetic I could barely look at myself in the mirror.

  The man I was in love with didn’t love me. He’d been using me to pay my father back for what he’d done to his family. And honestly, after what I’d found out, I didn’t blame him for hating us the way he did. For wanting to hurt us, for wanting revenge against the family that destroyed his.

  But it didn’t stop the pain or the feelings of betrayal, because despite everything, I’d fallen desperately in love with him.

  I loved him so much I didn’t know how I was still standing without him. How I was still functioning knowing he never actually felt anything for me, most likely hated me.

  Someone knocked on the door. “I’ll be down in a minute,” I called from the bathroom.

  How was I going to get through tonight?

  Stop it. You can’t change this, and you can’t change how Cal feels about you.

  I did my best to shove him from my mind, which I failed at miserably, and quickly fixed my makeup. I gave my reflection one last glance, making sure everything was in place, that everything was as perfect as I could get it—as was expected—then strode back into my childhood bedroom, where I’d been getting ready…

  And stumbled to a stop. “What are you…how did you get in here?”

  Dane held up his hands. “Don’t freak out, Cassy.” A muscle in his jaw jumped. “I’ve got something I need to say, then I’ll get out of here. Okay?”

  Hearing him call me Cassy felt good. Too good. But I couldn’t drop my guard. Dane had just as much of a reason to hate me as Cal. More. “My name is Cassandra. And if you’re here to tell me what monsters my family and I are”—I almost choked on my words, the steel in my spine melting away—“it’s okay, because I completely agree with you.”

  His brown eyes were locked on me, like he could see through me, and guilt made my stomach tighten. I hated what Dane had been through because of my father.

  I crossed my arms to hide my shaking hands. “Dane, I…I know this won’t mean much coming from me, but I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry for what happened to you and Bull…and Cal.” Saying his name out loud felt like a jagged rock sliding up my throat. “I had no idea what my father had done until recently. You were a child, and my father took his grief out on you, on your whole family. I can never make up for what you lost, but…”

  But what?

  I didn’t know what else to say. What could I say to make up for a boy being torn from his family and placed in foster care for years for doing nothing but being Cal’s brother?

  Dane still hadn’t said anything, and I took a proper look at him. He was still, his expression shuttered, his jaw tight. He seemed to shake himself. “That’s not why I’m here,” he finally said.

  I didn’t want to talk about Cal. I couldn’t, and if he wasn’t here to curse me and my father to hell, then I had an awful feeling that’s exactly why he was standing in my room. I tried to move to the door, but he sidestepped and blocked the way.

  “Dane, please…”

  “You’re acting’s for shit. You can’t even play your part for more than a few damn minutes, can you? What you try to put across, that’s not you. I’ll bet that’s never been you, has it? It’s all an act.” He crossed his heavily tattooed arms. “I’ve seen it, and I know Cal has.”

  “I don’t want to talk about him—”

  “He loves you, you know.”

  I jolted, like he’d dumped a bucket of ice water over my head. All the oxygen was sucked from my lungs and my skin prickled with goose bumps.

  “Since you walked out, he’s been a mess.”

  I backed up. “No. He was using me. It wasn’t real. None of it was real.”

  “Not at first, no.” He shoved his fingers through his messy blue hair. “At first, he saw you as a way to get back at your father for what happened to us. But he gave that up almost immediately because he realized you were nothing like your old man.” Dane shrugged. “Yeah, he was wrong and it was a twisted fucking idea, but when it comes to Bull and me…and what happened, he…he can’t see past his pain, past our pain, the helplessness we felt back then, and he doesn’t think clearly.” His stare grew more intense. “But he loves you, Cassy. He’s in love with you. And if you love him, too, you can’t marry this guy.”

  Could it be true? Did Cal have feelings for me? Real feelings? Emotion welled up inside me. God, I wanted to believe it. I wanted it to be true.

  A sob burst past my lips. “I have to.”

  “You don’t have to do a damned thing.”

  “Oh God, it’s all a lie,” I rushed out.

  “No, it’s not. Cal is a stubborn ass, but he—”

  “No.” I shook my head and backed up several more steps until I hit the wall, needing the support. “Tonight, this…” I motioned to my dress and lifted my hand where the gaudy, over-the-top diamond Spencer had delivered to me this morning for tonight weighed down my finger. “The engagement, it’s a sham. It’s not real. I’m marrying Spencer to save my father’s ranch, his business, to protect my gran so she doesn’t lose her home.”

  Dane’s brows lowered. “What?”

  “It’s complicated. I…I owe my father—”

  “Do you want to marry this guy?” Dane asked.

  “No,” I whispered.

  “You need to talk to Cal. He’s hurt, and angry. He has it in his head that you were after one last fling, a bit of rough with someone from the wrong side of the tracks before you settled down with Mr. Perfect. He’s refusing to see what’s right in front of his damn face. He’s going to do something, Cassy. I don’t know what, but you need to tell him this isn’t real before he does.”

  “What’s he going to do?”

  Dane shook his head. “I don’t know, but right now, the way he’s hurting, he’s capable of almost anything.”

  If I didn’t go through with the wedding, my father would be ruined. It would break my grandmother. I felt like I was being torn in two.

  “I’ll try and talk to him,” I said, my heart breaking into a million pieces all over again.

  Dane left, and I stood there in shock.

  What could I say to make Cal understand? And how could I go through with this if he loved me, too?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Cal

  I tugged at the tie strangling me, losing it as soon as I got into the Deighton main house. I’d gotten in without too much trouble. In the end, I’d walked in behind another group, pretending that I belonged there.

  Not sure anyone was buying it. When you were scarred and inked up it wasn’t exactly easy to blend in, especially with these people.

  A waiter carrying a tray of champagne walked by and I took one as he passed. Might as well drink the fucker’s booze while I was there.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket and I ignored it. Dane had been calling and texting nonstop, and I was sure Bull had joined in at this point. But I wasn’t ready to talk to either of them yet.

  Bull usually stayed out of my business, but when it came to what happened to Dane, to all of us back then, I knew he wouldn’t just sit back. And Dane had become my fucking good conscience perched on my shoulder, telling me what a fucking idiot I was being.

  Christ, I shouldn’t be there, but I needed to see Cassy for myself. Despite what I said to Dane, I could never do anything to hurt her. Fuck, I loved her. And da
mmit, I refused to believe everything we’d shared had been a lie, no matter how I’d tried to convince myself otherwise.

  I needed to see Cassy with this asshole to know she was truly happy, that this was really what she wanted. Dane had gotten in my head, and I’d spent more time than was healthy staring at that engagement notice, at the strained smile on her face. It looked false as hell, not like the smiles she’d given me.

  Something just wasn’t right.

  I tipped my glass up to take a sip. I hated champagne…

  The glass paused halfway to my lips, my heart kicking into high gear, my gut clenching so tight it bordered on full-on cramp.

  With her hand lightly on the staircase banister, Cassy descended the same steps I’d seen her disappear up the day I’d come here all those years ago after the accident, right before her father had kicked me out.

  She looked flawless, breathtaking. No longer a princess—my princess—she was the ice queen tonight, and she belonged to someone else.

  Yeah, that hurt. Fuck, did that hurt.

  Her fiancé was walking toward her, a smug fucking smile on his face. I wanted to grab him around the throat and repeatedly smash his head against that banister Cassy had just released until he passed out. Her hand lifted and the fucker took it in his, pressing his lips to her smooth skin.

  Fuck.

  I slammed the champagne and grabbed another glass from a tray.

  You’ve been trying to see things that aren’t there.

  Maybe, but I needed to hear it from her. I’d hurt her, lied to her. Cassy sure as hell didn’t owe me anything, but if I didn’t talk to her, if I didn’t believe she was truly happy, even if that was without me, I’d lose my mind.

  I moved toward them, wanting—no, needing to get closer. Her head shot up like she’d sensed me, like she knew I was there. Her eyes locked on mine and widened.

  Yeah, Princess, you can’t get rid of me that easily.

  I didn’t approach, but she’d seen me. I’d get my chance to talk to her.

  Something moved behind her eyes, something that had my gut clenching again and my palms sweating. Christ, seeing her with someone else was killing me.