Let Me: New Adult Dark Romance (Vengeful Book 1) Page 4

  They release me, back away from me with their hands up.

  “Hey man, we were just—” one starts to say.

  “We didn’t know she was yours,” the other says.

  “She isn’t.” Caden’s fist connects with the bald man’s face and he goes down, hard. I’m still against the wall, breathing hard, my head aching, and I watch as Caden takes the other man and slams him against the wall opposite me, over and over and over, the man’s head connecting with the brick, blood gushing on his face. Then Caden lets him go, and he falls, too.

  Neither of them move, and I can’t say I’m sorry for it.

  Caden’s back is still to me and he’s looking down at the man at his feet. I see his fists clench and I still can’t move. The muscles of his back flex as he finally makes to turn toward me, his eyes catching mine in the darkness. I see spots of red on his shirt.

  “What the fuck, Riley?” he spits at me, as if this is my fault. He closes the space between us, puts his hands on either side of me, caging me in.

  I can smell him.

  He smells like soap and something else that’s heady and masculine and just him. His scent was always intoxicating. Even before that night, before Jack died. I could still smell him in the Virani’s house, when he passed by me. In the club that night when he pulled Jack off of me.

  “Why the fuck would you come down here in the middle of the goddamn night by yourself?” he growls at me, and I press further against the wall, the brick digging into my back, through my dress.

  “You think this is my fault?” I ask, surprised and pleased my voice isn’t shaking. But my head hurts with the words, from where they slammed it against the wall. “You think I wanted that?” I look beyond him, indicating the men on the ground.

  His light eyes, like ice, are unreadable. Maybe he does think I wanted it. We haven’t spoken, until today, in nearly three years. I know he spent all three of those years thinking I was a slut in the worst way.

  I can’t exactly say he’s wrong. I’m dirty and tainted and wrong.

  “You were pissed because Adam was—”

  “Don’t talk to me about Adam,” I say through clenched teeth, my palms pressed flat against the wall behind me, my head held high, eyes on his above me. “Benji fucking sent that picture, didn’t he?”

  Caden lets out a low laugh and I smell his breath. Peppermint and vodka. “Shouldn’t you be saying Thank you?” he hisses.

  “Fuck you, Caden.” My eyes are filled with tears and even though I almost never cry, the past few hours seem to have changed that for me.

  Caden’s lips tug into a smile. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?” he whispers, leaning closer, his brow against mine. “Have you dreamed of me inside of you, after all these years?”

  This is a trap. Nothing I say will help this situation. If I answer honestly, if I tell him that Adam doesn’t mean shit to me, that Benji wasn’t hurting me by sending me that text and instead he was helping me, if I tell Caden any of that, it’ll go nowhere.

  Because Caden hates me.

  His brother is gone.

  It’s my fault.

  “You’re crying, Riley?” He brushes his thumb roughly against my cheek, and he doesn’t move it, not for a long moment, his eyes searching mine. Then he runs his hand through the long strands of my hair, and tugs, gently.

  I feel my knees go weak beneath me.

  This is what I deserve.

  This is what I want.

  I need something like this to make me feel clean again.

  He smiles at me, a cold smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, as if he knows what I’m thinking. He puts his hand back on the wall at my side.

  After a moment, he pushes himself off the wall, standing between the two men he hurt.

  Eyes still on me, he says, “Let’s go.” Then he turns and walks down the alley without looking to see if I’ll follow.

  Because of course I’ll follow.

  Seven

  Present

  Of course I followed her from the club. She had watched me leave her, and then turned back to her piece of shit boyfriend. It hadn’t taken much for Benji to get him there, get him drunk. Because he had been our friend, too. Until Jack died, and he swooped in to claim her, which had been fine by me, because God knows I wouldn’t have.

  Couldn’t have.

  Sometimes I wonder if it was Adam, in the video. I can’t rule it out completely, although the man seemed bigger than Adam. God knows I’ve watched it so many times by now, I’ve memorized far too much of it. Far more than I want to have burned into my skull. Sometimes I want to vomit when I think about it. Sometimes I want to punch someone. Sometimes I want to burn it out of my memory.

  But sometimes I never want to forget, so I never forget what she really is.

  Even still, when I watched her leave, alone, and in that tight dress—black had always been her favorite color—I had pushed the girl off my lap. The one that had been deftly unbuttoning my pants, grabbing at my cock. Which was hard, but not for her.

  Even as I hated to admit it.

  Being behind her, watching her watch Adam, watching her not give a fuck that he was being annihilated by two women that weren’t her, that was what had turned me on. So, I watched her leave. Then went after her.

  I’m under no illusion that I’m her savior. If I could bring her down to her knees, I would. But having her raped in an alleyway…I grit my teeth now as she walks behind me, her boots clicking on the pavement. If anyone else had hurt her, I would have killed them. As it is, I might have already, but I don’t give a fuck. Benji will take care of it.

  I remember her hair in my hand, remember her looking up at me with defiance, just a moment ago. You think I wanted this? I didn’t know anymore. I didn’t know what she wanted, if anything. Maybe she just wanted to watch everyone around her suffer. Maybe she had wanted an excuse for me to step in, to talk to her.

  Maybe she wanted to go back to the condo my dad paid for and think about her newfound freedom, now that I knew she would be done with Adam. Thank God. She didn’t deserve much, but he certainly didn’t deserve her.

  “Are you sure?” Benji had asked me when I told him to get Adam there.

  Benji was utter darkness. Benji had no limits.

  I had frowned at him, shook my head. “You’re acting like you care now?” I had hissed.

  He hadn’t backed down, his dark eyes watching mine. “Caden, man, I don’t give a fuck what you say. I know you still—”

  “Don’t finish that.”

  He must have seen something in my face because he didn’t argue. Backing down isn’t really Benji’s style, but still, he’d only nodded, then convinced Adam to come down. The fucker was already drunk, and clearly had no idea Riley was in Toronto, which was interesting in itself. But I couldn’t be interested. I wanted her to mean nothing to me. Less than nothing.

  Approaching the condo now, I hear her footsteps slow behind me.

  She doesn’t know that I know about this place. Or rather, she didn’t know.

  But now she does.

  I turn around to look at her. Even in those heeled boots, she’s still so small. Not fragile, no. She’s tough. She had to be tough to stick it out with my brother as long as she had. She had to be tough to lie to both of our fucking faces. To stab a knife in both of our backs. She had to be tough to show up at the funeral like she wasn’t a goddamn whore. The funeral was the last time I saw her until today.

  Just looking at her now, thinking about it…my hands ball into fists.

  I’d never hurt her. Not physically. Not like that. But it doesn’t mean I don’t think about it. But I can hurt her in other ways.

  She looks up at the condo, then back at me, a frown on her full lips.

  “How do you—”

  “How do I know?” I beat her to it, sneering at her. She closes the space between us and it’s fucking hard to breathe so I take a step back. “How do I know my dad is keeping you here?” I laugh, and it tastes b
itter in my mouth. “I know more than you think I do, Riley. You can’t keep me in the dark about my own goddamn father.”

  I know his assets. I know his properties. Benji filled me in on just who was staying at this one.

  She wraps her arms around her chest and for just a moment, I want to pull her to me. To put my lips on her brow, to feel her wrap her skinny little arms around me, like she needs me. Like she wants me.

  I shake my head, trying to think. To make some fucking sense.

  “It’s not what you think,” she says, her voice defiant. She was always defiant, even in her meekness. It’s why my dad liked her so much. Just like my mom, she always spoke her mind, even if her voice shook. It’s why she wasn’t afraid of that line most sane people wouldn’t cross, the one between brothers.

  But I was no better.

  Not really.

  Maybe I was just as fucked up as she was.

  And it wasn’t that line that had hurt the most.

  “What is it then, Riley? You’re going to tell me you’re not fucking my dad? Because if you’re not, well,” I glance over my shoulder, up at the condo at my back, “I think you’re full of shit.” But she can’t be. She wouldn’t…would she?

  She shakes her head, takes a step toward me and my breath hitches, but she doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, her cheeks are pink, and she frowns, her brows pulled together.

  “Listen, Caden—”

  “No. No. This isn’t your city anymore. Your mom isn’t here. Your university isn’t here. There is nothing here for you. Adam is a fucking dick—” I see her brows go up and I realize I stumbled. I realize I made her think, that maybe, I care. I shake my head, moving on. “My dad is married to my mom, and you’re not going to break that up. There’s way too much money between them. You might’ve gotten Jack to…” I swallow. I can’t say it.

  She frowns, her gaze softens, and she reaches an arm out for me. I step back, just out of reach, because if she touches me, I don’t know what will happen between us.

  “There is nothing here for you. Go the fuck back home. Don’t come back. No one wants you here.”

  A couple passes us on the sidewalk in front of the condo and they glare at me, but I don’t give a damn. I mean what I’m saying. I never want to see her again. My life will be infinitely better if I don’t see her again.

  “This isn’t your city, either,” she says quietly.

  I take a step toward her. “What did you say?”

  Her eyes flick up to mine, green and beautiful and full of the anger that must be in mine. “You don’t live here, do you? This isn’t your life. And if you think your dad is fucking me, why did you come to the party at all?”

  I laugh and step closer to her, until we’re so close, I could take her hair, twist it in my hands, yank her neck back. But I don’t. I don’t know how far I’d go after that. “I didn’t know you were going to be there. And that was my house. His house, you fucking—” I stop myself, putting a hand over my mouth. I lower it and shake my head. “Just get the fuck out of here.”

  “Fucking what, Caden? Go ahead. What do you want to call me? You’ve spent these three years saying it enough in your fucked-up head, what is it you want to say to me?” She reaches for me, balling my shirt in her fist.

  I blink at her small hand, clenched with anger, and it takes me a moment to comprehend what she’s doing. She’s actually holding my shirt in her fist. She’s breathing hard, her lips slightly parted, and she isn’t scared. She’s pissed off.

  I own my own company. A multi-million-dollar company in the suburbs, outside of Toronto. I’ve been recognized as one of the leaders in innovation, one of the youngest to emerge in recent years. I’ve had people fall at my feet all my life, but now they’re doing it because of something I’ve built.

  Never have I ever had someone to do to me what she’s doing. I’m lean, but tall, and people are intimidated by height. But Riley Larson isn’t intimidated by anything, apparently.

  “Get your hands off of me,” I say quietly.

  She yanks me forward and I put out my hands to keep from colliding with her. I grab her arms, and we stand that way, in a stand-off in the middle of Toronto before my dad’s condo, breathing fire at each other, unspeaking for a second.

  “I’m not fucking your father, you piece of shit,” she seethes, breaking our silence. “And I didn’t need your help in that alley—”

  At this, I can’t help but grab her hand, pull it off of me, easily, and twist her arm until she winces. I let go immediately, but I think I’ve made my point.

  “You didn’t need my help, Riley?” I ask sarcastically. “You got yourself covered? You can defend yourself? You didn’t need Benji to send you that picture either, to see that Adam is an asshole? And you didn’t need me back there, in the alleyway, in between those two horny thugs? You’ve taken care of yourself all your life, all on your own?”

  She shoves me, surprisingly sending me stumbling back a few steps. “I’ve taken care of myself and found my own way more often than you ever have, Caden Virani.” She walks past me, but I reach out and grab her arm, jerking her back.

  “Why?” My voice is hoarse, and I hate that. I swallow, stare at her, unblinking, waiting for something. Waiting for her to say something that’ll make this all better. That’ll take this all away. That’ll give her back to me. Make her my angel again. I knew she was never a good girl, but I never wanted a good girl. I also didn’t want one who would stab me and my brother in the back and fuck my dad while she was it. He doesn’t give his money to women for nothing.

  She shakes her head. “Get off me. I don’t owe you anything.” And then she pulls away and I let her go, let her walk into that building and disappear into my dad’s condo. I want to follow her, and it’s that one thing that makes me hate myself.

  This is her fault.

  My brother is dead because of her.

  But it’s my fault, too. Because I couldn’t resist her. I can’t now, and I couldn’t then, either.

  Eight

  May, 3 Years Ago

  I hear them yelling as soon as I walk into the house. Mom and Dad are out, as they usually are. Separately, of course, because even though they might stay married, it’s only because it’s more expensive for them to get a divorce.

  Matthew greets me in the hallway as I close the door softly behind me. I hear Jack shouting about her talking to some dude after class. I can’t hear her defense, because her voice is softer, but I hope to God she’s putting him in his place.

  He’s become unbearable. He was always the jealous type, but as they’ve gone out longer, it’s gotten worse. Riley is beautiful, but she’s also wrapped up in him. I don’t know how he can’t see that. I sure fucking can.

  “How long have they been at it?” I ask Matthew, trying to keep my tone casual. I’ve been coming here every weekend this month, and I don’t even know why. I like to see my mom, but I knew she would be out this weekend. She told me she was going on a girl’s trip out of the city.

  Matthew clears his throat, his posture ramrod straight, white hair slicked back, white gloved hands clasped in front of him. “A while,” he finally says.

  I clench my jaw so hard my teeth grind together. And then I hear something shatter.

  Without thinking, without waiting, I run up the stairs, using my hands to pull me up faster, legs pumping until I pivot down the hall, headed for Jack’s room. I hear Riley screaming, and I feel myself relax a little because that means she’s okay, but she’s not okay. Not really.

  I twist the knob on Jack’s door and find it’s locked.

  “Open the fucking door!” I call out, and Riley goes quiet.

  “Fuck off,” Jack says. The little shit.

  “I will break this fucking door down if you don’t open it right goddamn now.”

  Silence for a minute and I prepare to ram my shoulder into the wooden door, but then I hear footsteps and the click of the lock. The little prick doesn’t bother to open it for me.
>
  I see glass shattered on the marble floors of his bedroom, see a photo of Riley and Jack sitting in my parents’ backyard, taken last summer when they first started dating. When Jack must have seen a poor, neglected girl that he could easily manipulate. The picture frame is shattered, and Riley is standing against the far wall, past the king-sized bed and mounted TV and game console. She’s got her arms crossed and her eyes are red.

  “What the fuck is going on here?” I ask, looking at Jack, who is pacing before the glass on the floor. This shouldn’t be my problem. Riley Larson should not be my problem. But she’s here all the time. I’m here all the time. I can’t help but feel something for her, can’t help but see my brother is a complete dick.

  “Fuck off,” Jack says again. He’s so angry that the words come out through clenched teeth and the veins on his forearms are nearly popping out of his skin.

  “Who did this?” I gesture to the shattered frame on the floor, but I look to Riley for an answer.

  She doesn’t look scared. She just looks pissed off. But she refuses to answer me. She looks down at the floor. I know she’s stronger than this. She’s got to be stronger than this.

  Say something, I think. Fucking say something.

  She doesn’t speak.

  Jack stops his pacing. “Do you want to fuck her, too?” he goads me, getting in my face. But he’s a few inches shorter than me, and I shove him off, calmly, which pisses him off all the more. He shoves me, but I plant my feet, bend my knees, and I don’t move against his push.

  “You’ll have to try harder than that, little brother.” I look to Riley again, who is still looking down. Abruptly, she sinks to the floor, tucking her legs underneath her. “What happened?” I ask her again.

  “Get the fuck out of here!” Jack screams at me. “You’re always acting like you’re her savior. I know you want to fuck her, bro, but you’re never going to. No one is. No one but me, you got that? And do you really want my sloppy seconds?”

  I see Riley look up, shock and hurt etched on her face.