Let Me: New Adult Dark Romance (Vengeful Book 1) Read online

  You took her.

  The last time we saw each other was the funeral, and we didn’t speak then either.

  I have to squeeze my eyes shut, for half a second, to stop imagining Caden’s guilt. Benji’s threats scared me, but part of me also welcomed them. I like pain. And I deserve whatever is coming.

  Morgan shrugs. “When we used to go to the Viranis, he was always, you know, watching you. When he was home from law school.”

  The waitress sets down another rum and Diet, and I nod my thanks and drain it.

  “Really?” I ask, because Morgan is expecting me to speak.

  She nods quickly. “You never thought about…”

  I shake my head. “Never,” I lie.

  She frowns. “Oh. That’s too bad. You always did seem like you’d make a good couple. He works in Haven, you know? He’s a hotshot lawyer, owns some kind of company, which, of course, is no surprise.” She lets out a little giggle and cuts off another minuscule bite of steak. “You should see him before you leave.”

  I want to disappear.

  Twenty-Six

  June, 3 Years Ago

  I’m not drunk anymore. I should be, because before tonight I never drank. I stayed away, even when Jack offered it. When the Viranis said it was fine. When I saw Mom’s beer in the fridge; beer we couldn’t afford but she found a way anyhow, because she always found a way for whatever she needed.

  But for some reason, I’m stone-cold sober.

  I follow Caden into the elevator of some fancy hotel that I would never be able to afford in my wildest dreams. He offered to take me to his condo, but the traffic is terrible. I was itching to get out of that car. It was nice, nicer even than Jack’s, but I couldn’t stand it. Being so close to him and not touching him.

  And when he put his hand on my thigh, well…whatever resolve I’d mustered up to not sleep with him the moment I saw him in that bedroom doorway, it went out the window.

  I don’t even care that he found me on top of some random guy. I’m just glad he found me.

  I left Jack because I had to. Because there was no way I could keep seeing him and have that secret between us. I couldn’t go to his house and see his father and act like everything was fine. As it is, it isn’t fine.

  Rolland sent me the video. Of course, he’s not visible. Not his face, anyhow. He has no wedding band, not tell-tale markings on his hands or his arms. He was wearing long sleeves. It’s only me, from my nose down, so no one can see my eyes wide with fear. Only my breasts, my bare stomach, Rolland’s hands trailing down my body.

  I met with Rolland after school, the Monday after it happened. He wants nothing, for now, he says, but to keep an eye out for me. And he won’t show anyone. Won’t tell anyone.

  I’m not stupid. I know more demands are coming. I know, too, that I should have told someone. But who? My mother still has no idea I ran away because of one of her perverted boyfriends, who, thankfully, was gone when I went home the next morning, after the drug Rolland spiked my drink with made its way out of my system. My mom would never believe me. And I don’t have money. I can’t go to court.

  I think Jack would believe me. But what if he didn’t? In the video, everything appears consensual. Appears like I’m conscious, aware. My abdomen even shivers under Rolland’s touch.

  I clench my hands into fists as Caden and I get out of the elevator, on the seventh floor.

  He doesn’t look at me as we walk down the sleek, black hallway. There’s art on the walls, black and white photographs and paintings that are kind of abstract and probably supposed to have some deep meaning that I don’t get.

  The only one that really catches my eye is made of words.

  Fear feeds us, in letters made of black snakes.

  I feel that fear in the pit of my stomach as I follow Caden. Not from being here, with him. But from what I’m hiding. What I’ve done. My God, if Caden found out…he would hate me. Everyone would hate me.

  Jack already does. He lost it when I broke up with him. He’s been blowing up my phone non-stop. I left it at home, not giving a damn if Mom or her next boy toy swipe it from my nightstand. I deleted the video, the texts with Rolland. I couldn’t bear to see Jack’s face pop up again on my caller ID.

  I haven’t even talked to Tyler about it.

  He knows we broke up, but that’s all he knows for now.

  I can’t tell him what happened. I can’t tell anyone.

  “After you,” Caden says ahead of me, swiping the key card and opening the door for me after the little light turns green.

  I glance up at him, frozen for a moment.

  His eyes look like they’re carved from glaciers, framed by long dark lashes. A lock of his thick, dark blonde hair falls over one eye. His jaw is lean, his blazer open, and I can see, even through his crisp, white dress shirt that his body is lean, toned. I’ve seen him without a shirt on before, at his house. He’s stronger than his brother. Taller, too.

  His full lips twitch up into a smile. “Having second thoughts?” he asks me, his voice low.

  I shake my head and push past him, into the suite that’s ours for the night. I hear the door click closed behind me and I step further into the room, see the king-sized bed with far too many pillows and a black comforter. There are black dressers, a walk-in closet, a small living room off of the bedroom with a black leather couch. I see three TVs from this vantage point, and the window looks down on the glistening city, the black curtains open. The funky silver lamps beside the bed are flicked on.

  I walk over to the window, looking out at the night sky. The stars aren’t really visible here in the city with all the lights down below, and I kind of wish they were. I want to see them, and I don’t even know why. Maybe to remember they exist. To see a little natural light in the darkness.

  I hear Caden come up behind me.

  I can feel his body heat, but he doesn’t touch me. In the reflection from the glass, I see him behind me. He’s so much taller than I am, even more so than Jack was. I find it interesting he never played basketball.

  He wrestled instead. All that anger needed somewhere to go, I guess.

  He reaches around me, offering me a bottle of beer. The top is off. For a second, I think of Rolland.

  But this is Caden.

  I take the drink, and he doesn’t let go, my fingers overtop his.

  We stand like that for a moment, and I feel heat in my core, desire for something I’ve longed after for so long. Too long.

  It’s wrong.

  But I’m past that now. I don’t care.

  He brings the bottle to my lips, my hand still on his. I take a long pull, relishing in the taste. It’s not good, exactly, but I feel an excitement in the pit of my stomach, knowing what’s coming. The buzz. The drowning. The numbness. It’s why I went to the party. To get out of my head. To stop thinking.

  Of Caden’s father.

  For just a moment, as both Caden and I lower the drink, I want to tell him. I want to tell him what happened. To confess.

  But I don’t.

  Caden lets go and moves away from me. I close my eyes, wishing him back. I take several more pulls from the beer, eager to feel it in my system.

  I hear a faint click, and the light dims.

  Then there’s another one, and it goes out. Now, only the lights of the city stream into this room. I don’t see Caden in the reflection of the glass, but I hear him come up behind me again. This time, he doesn’t touch me.

  “What do you want, Riley?” he asks instead.

  My heart is thudding in my chest. I cross one arm under the elbow of the other, take another drink. The bottle is halfway done now.

  “Guess,” I challenge him.

  He laughs, and it’s husky. Sensual. “Most people want safety. Money. Love. Happiness. To be right.” He’s closer now. I can feel him behind me. Feel his lips against my ear when he says, “But not you. You don’t want to be right, do you?”

  Chills slide down my body. I get goosebumps on my
arm and I take another drink.

  “You want what’s wrong. You want the darkness. You want the things people tell you that you can’t have. That’s what you liked about being with my brother, isn’t it? The rich basketball player saw something in the poor girl, and he took it. You let him. But you weren’t going to conform, were you? You weren’t going to make it easy for him. All those fights I heard, all those arguments between the two of you…you didn’t need my help. You liked it. You liked the wrongness of it. And most of all…” His lips trail down my jaw, to the side of my neck. “You liked me. You liked seeing me between you. Not to save you.” He smiles against my skin. “No. You liked knowing that in that moment…we both wanted you. You liked thinking that we would fight over you. Brothers.” He scoffs. “Did you want us both, Riley? At the same time?”

  The bottle dangles from my fingers by my side. My legs feel weak beneath me. I don’t move.

  “Is that what you wanted?” He finally touches me, grazing his finger down my side. “You wanted both of us inside of you?”

  I shiver at his touch, as his hand trails down to my hip, then in front of me, between my legs. He squeezes.

  I lean my head back, against his shoulder. “No,” I whisper, still staring out the window. “No. I only wanted you.”

  He groans in my ear, takes the bottle from my hand and sets it on the TV stand, then pushes me against the window, my palms catching me, my breath coming out in a rush.

  He undoes the buttons to my jeans and pulls them down, then his hands cup my ass, then my hips, and he grinds against me. I feel him, what he feels for me. He moves his hands up, pulls off my shirt and I lift my arms up to help him. He lets it fall to the floor, his hands coming over my breasts, reaching into my bra.

  Then he spins me roughly around. In the darkness, I watch his eyes drink me in.

  And then we clash. We’re mouths and tongues and teeth, his hands cupping my face, mine pushing his blazer off, going for the buttons on his shirt. But my hands are trembling, and I finally just pull it apart, as hard as I can, and buttons go flying. He bites my lip, hard enough to draw blood, and I whimper into his mouth.

  I pull down his shirt and run my hands over the hard planes of his abs, up his chest, and down his back, my nails digging into him. He groans into my mouth and yanks me closer to him, his hands around my low back. I taste iron, and I want it all over him.

  Then he walks us backward, until we get to the bed.

  He sits down and spins me around, my back to him, before he pulls me onto his lap, his hands all over me, everywhere. He yanks my hair back, forcing my neck up, and his tongue is on my throat, teeth scraping against my skin. He bites that sensitive spot between my shoulder and my neck, and I let him, let him sink his teeth in.

  I grind against him, feel him swell beneath me.

  “You’re mine,” he says against my skin. “Mine.”

  I can only moan, my neck still pulled upward by his hold on my hair. I’ve only ever wanted to be his. I’ve only ever wanted this. I don’t want to be anywhere else, ever again. I want him. I don’t give a fuck about Rolland Virani. I’ll tell Caden. I’ll confess all of my sins after this night is over.

  And then his phone rings.

  It’s loud, vibrating underneath me.

  I choke out a laugh and he snarls, annoyed.

  He wraps one arm around my front, uses the other to pull his phone from his pocket, but then I feel him freeze beneath me.

  “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice hoarse. “It’s my dad. He never calls, and it’s almost two.” He says the words more to himself than to me, and I hear him answer the phone.

  Hear him say, “Hello?”

  My heart sinks.

  I feel like I’m going to throw up.

  I stand to my feet and turn around to face him. Even in the darkness, I can see his golden skin has gone pale. He swallows and then nods. Then, seeming to remember his father can’t see him on the other end of the phone, he says, “I’ll be right there.”

  Twenty-Seven

  Present

  Another night of no sleep.

  Benji texts me at three in the morning. He gave her plenty of time. She didn’t book a flight. Which means tonight, Riley is going to get what she deserves.

  I work out in the gym at four, swim laps outside afterward to calm down. The swelling in my nose has, thankfully, gone down.

  I drive to the office in the Infiniti, after I dismiss Angie for the day. And night. She’s going to her sister’s, and she seems to know I want the place to myself because she doesn’t ask questions or complain. I arranged for a driver to take her across town around noon.

  Vivian comes into my office after I’ve settled behind the desk. She closes the door softly behind her, her heels clicking on the floor as she comes to stand in front of the desk. She’s wearing a pencil skirt that shows off her slim, tan thighs, and she runs her manicured nails down her sheer stockings.

  “Can I help you?” I ask, keeping my eyes on hers.

  She frowns. “What’s wrong with you?”

  She has no idea that would take a good ten years to dissect.

  “Do you need something?” I take my eyes off of her, and open up my laptop, scrolling through the nearly-endless emails that I need to reply to. I got work done yesterday, but not a lot. Not as much as I would have if Riley hadn’t been in town. If I hadn’t been thinking about her and my fucking father.

  Or those last three words scrambled.

  I close my eyes.

  “Caden…” Vivian’s voice has gone soft, and she walks around my desk and I know she’s going to try to put herself in my lap.

  I stand up, take a step back.

  “I have work to do. If you don’t need me for anything work-related, please get out of my office.”

  I see her lip tremble, and it just pisses me off even more. She has a boyfriend. I’m not it. I don’t want to be it.

  I arch a brow, as if reiterating my demand. I’ll fire her is she doesn’t get the fuck out. Hell, I might even if she does.

  Finally, she turns away and walks back to my office door. I watch her leave, and exhale only when the door slams closed.

  Then I shove my chair into my desk, which is childish and stupid but fuck Riley Larson. As if she didn’t fuck the Virani family up enough, now she wants to be the sleaziest woman she could possibly be and fuck my dad for money.

  I wonder how long this has been going on. I can’t believe I didn’t know before this. I can’t believe I had no fucking clue. I thought she was gone, for good. Out of my life.

  She was never at those fucking summer parties before, but my dad is rarely home. It would take nothing for them to meet up anywhere else in the city.

  Fuck her and fuck him.

  When day becomes night, I’m ready.

  It’s easy enough to find her, of course. She’s still at The Villa, staying there, no doubt, on my father’s money. The fact that he put her here pisses me off to no end. He knew what he was doing. There are so many hotels in Toronto that it’s laughable he actually did this. Or maybe she did it. Maybe they both thought it would be a riot.

  I ask the receptionist to bring her down, because even though Benji told me which room she’s staying at, I don’t trust myself to be alone with her. Benji is back at my house, and he has the cameras ready. He’ll be there, in case I need him. Because even after all of this, I can’t face her alone. Even after stabbing a knife through my back and into my heart, I don’t trust myself not to succumb to her.

  She comes down in skinny jeans, black sneakers, and a black t-shirt. Her wavy brown hair is curlier than usual, her eyes bright…until she sees me. I’m standing at the end of the long counter, the receptionist at the opposite end.

  Her steps are slow, her shirt tucked into her jeans so I can see her tiny waist.

  She’s beautiful. Even if I hate her, she’s so damn beautiful. And tonight, I get to see just how beautiful she is underneath those clothes. Again.

 
“Caden?”

  When she whispers my name, a few feet from me, it takes everything in me to keep from shuddering. But then I imagine her with my dad inside of her and my fists clench. She notices, her green eyes darting to my hands.

  But I need her to come with me, so I unclench them and clear my throat.

  “Hi,” I say. “Would you like to have dinner with me?”

  Her brow furrows. “What?” she asks, her voice hoarse, her eyes darting around us. But the lobby is empty, save for the employees. “Why would you—”

  “Want to have dinner with you?” I cut her off, forcing myself to lie smoothly. “You’re not here often. Maybe we should talk things over? About Saturday night?” I make myself smile.

  Her eyes widen. She knows me. We know each other. Neither of us are the type to talk things over. She’s not good. Neither am I. We don’t do things like that. But still, I hold my breath, waiting.

  After a moment, she surprises me, and nods. “Okay,” she says, and bites her bottom lip. I force my eyes away from her mouth, back to her eyes. “Let me change and—”

  “No.” It comes out harsher than I mean it too, and it kind of makes me hate myself. Not that the words were harsh, but that I desperately don’t want her to change. I like her like this. In jeans and a t-shirt. Vivian always dresses up. Most women I’ve slept with wear short skirts and high heels. I prefer this. It suits her. It is her.

  She looks surprised. “Where did you want to go?”

  I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. “My house.”

  Her eyes widen. She’s never been there. Ever. I moved in after her. But after a moment, she nods. “Okay.”

  She grabs her purse from her room and is down in seconds. I’m happy she didn’t change.

  The drive is quick and quiet. I think about that other drive, before the call. The one we took all those years ago in the city. But this time, I don’t try to get her to talk. I don’t want her to talk.

  Needless to say, I don’t have dinner ready when we get home.