Victorious Vice (Bellamy Brothers #6)

39. Raven

39

RAVEN

“ A nything?” Vinnie asks the men at the monitors as I hold onto him for dear life.

“Something’s coming in.” One of the guys adjusts his headset. “It’s… Repeat that please?”

Pause .

“You sure?” Another pause, and he turns to Vinnie. “Report is coming in that Bellamy’s gunshot wound to his head was…self-inflicted.”

My heart plummets to my stomach. My pulse was fluttering so fast, but now it feels like it’s not beating at all.

Surely I didn’t hear those words. My father would never harm himself. Never shoot himself. He’d never leave Mom. Or me. Or my brothers and sister.

“Confirm that, please,” Vinnie says.

“I need confirmation,” the man wearing the headset says.

Pause .

The man pushes his headset into his ears for a moment before turning to us. “Confirming. The trajectory shows that the bullet’s entry point was consistent with self-harm. Bellamy…shot himself.”

A wave of nausea rolls over me, and I grip Vinnie tighter, as if he can shield me from the harsh reality. The room spins around me. I want it to stop. I need it to stop.

Vinnie wraps his arm firmly around me, a steadying force in my whirlwind of despair. “Reconfirm,” he demands, his voice steady despite the tumultuous news.

“We’ve received images from local security cams. Forensics have already processed them,” the guy at the monitors says. His face is pale beneath the fluorescent lights. “It’s definite.”

The words ring hollow in my ears, playing over and over like a broken record.

Self-inflicted. Self-inflicted.

“No.” The denial rips from my throat before I can stop it. “No!”

“Easy, Raven,” Vinnie says. “We need more information.”

“Prognosis looks pretty good,” the man with the headset continues. “He just grazed his skull. Missed major arteries. He’s unconscious but stable.”

Unconscious but stable—those words don’t offer the comfort they’re meant to. Instead, they bring a new wave of fear that crashes over me, threatening to pull me under its icy depths.

My father. The most grounded, rational man I know tried to kill himself. And if he wasn’t successful this first time, who knows if he’ll try to do it again?

Why would he do a thing like this?

He couldn’t. He simply couldn’t. There must be another explanation.

“I’m sorry, Raven,” Vinnie says. “It seems you weren’t in any danger after all.”

I pull back and punch Vinnie in the upper arm. “How can you say that? I’m in danger of losing my father.”

“He’s stable,” the man repeats.

“Stable. My father’s a great shot.”

“Not everyone is a great shot when they’re aiming the weapon at their own head,” the man replies.

Vinnie shoots the guy a glare. “Can you work on your bedside manner a little bit? Christ.”

He then leads me out of the communication room.

“I’m so sorry,” he says. “I thought this was related to the pendant, to the messages you’ve been receiving. I just assumed someone shot him.”

“Someone did!” I scream. “My father would never try to harm himself. There was so much blood, Vinnie. So much blood.”

“I know, Raven, I know.” Vinnie leads me to a quiet corner. His grip on my arm is firm, but not unkind. He knows I need the support right now, both physically and emotionally.

We find a vacant room with an untouched sofa and an old coffee table scattered with outdated magazines. He guides me to sit on the soft leather couch, whispering comforting words that I barely hear over the sound of my own thunderous heartbeat.

“I don’t believe it.” I shake my head. “He was a rock, Vinnie. Always there for me. When I was sick, he fought for me when I was too weak to fight for myself.”

Vinnie kneels in front of me, his hands holding mine. “I know.”

But in his eyes, I see the uncertainty that matches my own.

I grab his face, pull him to me. “Kiss me, Vinnie. Please. Kiss me.”

Without a word, he complies. His kiss is gentle, a soft press against my trembling lips. It’s not a passionate kiss born out of desire, but one of comfort and assurance. He pulls back too quickly, his gaze locked onto mine.

“Raven,” he says softly, “We will figure this out.”

He’s holding onto hope for both of us. But the world feels like it has crumbled around me. A part of me wants to believe him, but the stronger part—the part that saw the life ebbing out of my father—refuses to.

“Can I go see him? Can I go to him?” My voice sounds small and distant even to my own ears.

Vinnie hesitates for a moment. “I need to make sure it’s safe.”

“You just said it has nothing to do with?—”

He touches his fingers to my lips. “I said no one else shot him, Raven. But if he felt desperate enough to try to end his own life, something big is going on. Something he doesn’t want your mother, or you, to know about.”

I rub at the sides of my head. I can’t think of this right now.

“Take me away from this, Vinnie. I need you.”

He kisses me again. This time hard, raw.

A moment later, he’s on top of me, grinding his erection into me. “God, Raven,” he grits out. “The thought of losing you. I can’t… I just can’t.”

He kisses me again, one hand cupping my breast, the other sliding beneath my waistband.

“Are you sure?” he whispers.

This must be what he felt like when his mother was in the hospital, before she died. When we fucked hard in the hospital cleaning closet.

I have no idea where we are. Who can hear us. But I don’t care.

“Yes,” I say to him. “Yes, please. Love me, Vinnie. Love me.”

He pulls me close, his mouth descending on mine again, hungrily, anxiously. His hands are all over me, slipping under my clothes, tracing the contours of my body. I’m desperate to consume him and be consumed by him in return.

The cool air hits my skin as he pulls my shirt over my head. He kisses my neck as I gasp and dig my nails into his back through the fabric of his shirt. The familiar feel of him drives away the pain, if only for a moment.

His hands are on me again, sliding over the expanse of my bare skin. Fingers gently brushing against curves and valleys. A soft moan escapes my lips as he reaches under my bra, thumbing my nipple until it hardens.

I can hardly breathe, every single touch electric and raw. I arch into him, wanting more, needing more. His breath is ragged against my skin.

Vinnie tugs at my bra until the clasp unhooks, freeing my breasts. He skims over my bare flesh, making me quiver. He lowers his mouth to my left breast and teases the nipple with his tongue. His hot breath makes me squirm beneath him.

“Vinnie!” I gasp out his name like it’s a prayer.

I need him in ways I can’t articulate. The taste of his lips on mine is like my favorite wine, intoxicating and dizzying in equal measures.

He trails down my sides to the waistband of my jeans and unbuttons them.. The world outside fades away as he lays me on the sofa, slides my jeans and underwear down my legs. I kick them off and pull Vinnie back to me. I crave him, his touch, his scent. He’s all that keeps me sane in this moment.

He slides his hands down my body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he reaches between my legs. His touch is light, almost reverent, but it’s enough to make me gasp in pleasure.

“Vinnie,” I whisper again, my voice shaky with need.

“Shhh,” he murmurs against my ear. “I’ve got you.”

He slips his fingers between my folds. I buck my hips against his hand as a moan escapes my lips. He groans in return.

I reach for the buckle on his belt. His pants follow, and within another moment he’s inside me, thrusting, thrusting, thrusting…

Our bodies move in perfect rhythm, his thrusts matching my gasps, creating a symphony of unsaid words and pent-up desires.

“Raven…” He breathes my name into the crook of my neck.

I dig into his back and pull him closer. His hips grind into mine again and again. Each stroke of his hard length inside me is a brand, marking me as his.

His lips find mine again—rough, passionate, needy. They taste like desperation and promise.

A moment later, he stiffens and buries himself deeper within me with a low grunt. Heat floods me as he spills into me while I cling onto him tightly, my body convulsing around him.

And for just this moment, I have everything I need.