CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Colton — 18 years old
Maddox and I are chilling on the couch, watching a murder mystery documentary when we hear a loud crash from the apartment next to us. It’s followed by an anguished scream. We both move at the same time, lurching off the couch and rushing to the door.
He makes it to the girls’ apartment first. My chest tightens, my heart galloping in alarm. It’s fucking late into the night. Did someone break into their apartment? Are they hurt?
When I get there, the door is wide open. Maddox stands at the doorway, blocking my view. If he’s just standing there, that means the girls are not in any danger. That’s reassuring, but the frantic speed of my pulse doesn’t slow down.
I move to the right, sidestepping around Maddox to peek inside. The place is trashed. It looks like a storm passed through, destroying everything in its wake.
In the middle of the apartment, Lila is sitting on the floor. Holding a curled-up Riley in her arms. I can’t see her face, but Riley’s whole body shakes with the force of her broken wails. She chokes on her sob, sounding like a trapped, wounded animal.
Her anguish is so palpable, I can almost taste the bitterness of it on my tongue.
What the fuck happened to her?
I take a step forward, but Lila shakes her head, causing me to halt. “Not now,” she mouths, her face etched with concern and protectiveness. She quietly motions for us to leave.
“Let’s go,” Maddox says, clasping my shoulder. “Lila’s got her.”
He leaves first, but shock glues my feet to the floor. I can’t move, I can’t tear my eyes away from a completely shattered Riley. The wounded cries spilling from her lips resonate through me, echoing between my ears. My breath whooshes out of my lungs in a painful rush.
What could possibly make her cry like this?
Did someone die? But then I quickly come to the realization that Riley doesn’t care about anyone else that much to cry like this if they died. I don’t know everything, but I’ve gotten the gist of it from listening to Lila and Maddox’s conversations. Riley’s relationship with her parents is sour. She resents them. Actually, maybe that’s an understatement. Because she wouldn’t cry this much if they died. She probably would be celebrating her freedom.
Riley Johnson is merely a pawn to her father…and I’ve always known that. Men like Thomas? They don’t care about family and they are never affectionate. They only care about their selfish ambitions and disgusting motives. Cue, my own damn father.
I guess in some ways, Riley and I are cut from the same cloth. We were born in the corrupted world of high-society, only to be shackled by its ambiguous rules and left to deal with the aftermath of our decaying souls.
The only two people who truly matter to Riley are Lila, and she’s already here, and the other one is Grayson.
But he can’t be dead. Lila’s concern on her face says something else entirely.
This means…
He fucking broke her heart.
Lila looks up again, frowning. She motions for me to leave again, and this time…I drag myself away from the door. An ache pierces my chest at the sight and sound of Riley’s visible pain, and I can’t understand why.
Scowling at my own thoughts and the twinge of pain in my chest, I close the door. Shutting them in, allowing the Little Wallflower to grieve in private. That’s possibly the only damn favor I will ever do her. I might be a spiteful asshole all the time, but I’m not totally heartless.
I go back to my apartment to find Maddox isn’t on the couch anymore, and the door to his bedroom is closed. Walking to my own room, I don’t bother turning on the lights. I shrug off my shirt and get rid of my sweatpants before crawling into bed.
Lying on my back, I cross my arms behind my head and stare up at the dark ceiling. Sleep evades me, as it always does. My mind lingers, and tonight…it chooses to focus on Riley.
We’ve been somewhat civil with each other the last couple of months.We’re neighbors, so we see each other everyday. It’s inevitable. But we’ve barely spoken more than twenty words to each other in the last six months.
Riley avoids me completely. She doesn’t even look at my face when we’re in the same room. And it irks me terribly. The more she ignores me, the more I want to keep pushing until she breaks. I crave it—her carefully concealed rage. It’s the only damn thing that’s real about her. Everyone wears a mask around me, but Riley? I see her. She shows me the real her.
Everything ugly and delicate. Everything that is beautiful and broken.
She’s complicated, and I’ve always enjoyed solving riddles.
But I promised Maddox that I’d keep my distance. As much as that goes against my nature, I left my sweet nemesis alone.
I’ve been set on antagonizing everyone for the sake of fun and entertainment. I guess that’s what people do when they are bitter and bored with life.
Riley just happened to be a sad casualty of mine, but then again…she was too fucking easy to pick on. Getting on her nerves and watching her pretty facade crumble gave me the best high of my life. Better than any fancy drugs.
Her rage and her tears were intoxicating.
I could easily become addicted to them— to her.
It’s been Maddox and me for the longest time. The two of us against the world. We understand each other. But then Lila swooped in and turned Maddox’s whole damn life upside down with her sass and her feisty attitude. He is protective of her and she became one of us. And that makes Riley one of us too.
So I have to be civil. Can no longer bully my nemesis.
My mind flashes back to the scene I just witnessed. A stone fist squeezes my lungs, leaving a dull ache behind. I rub a hand over my chest, trying to ease some of the pressure. But her cries… fuck.
Her wounded and tortured cries still echo in my ears.
I’ve never seen the Little Wallflower this broken before.
And for some reason…it fucking bothers me.
***
Two weeks later
My phone pings with a message from Lila. Did Riley eat yet?
I send her a quick text back, while making my way to their apartment. The elevator broke again and I had to take the stairs… I’m bringing her lunch right now.
Thank you, she replies. I pocket my phone without responding.
I don’t knock on the door, because I know Riley won’t respond. So, I just use the spare key Lila left me and unlock the door and walk inside. The apartment is dark. All the curtains are lowered, blocking any ray of sunlight from coming inside.
“I have lunch,” I call out as a way to announce my presence. “It’s a turkey sandwich. Got it from that place you like. I even had them add that honey mustard you prefer.”
No response.
With a sigh, I plate her sandwich and find my way to her bedroom. The door is ajar, and I peek inside. Riley is huddled in her bed, under multiple layers of blankets.
“I’m not hungry.” Her weak voice cracks. “And I’m too tired to fight you. Not today, Bennett.”
I push inside, ignoring her feeble attempt to drive me away. “You didn’t eat dinner last night either.”
Since her breakup, Riley has been undergoing a complete emotional breakdown. She goes to class, then comes back only to lock herself in her room. In absolute darkness. She walks around listlessly and barely eats. Lila has been with her, constantly watching over her friend protectively. But two days ago, she got a phone call that her grandmother was hospitalized.
So she and Maddox went back to Manhattan.
And Lila left me responsible for taking care of a dejected Riley.
“Leave, Colton,” she pleads, her words barely audible.
“Sorry, can’t do that.” I leave the plate on her nightstand, before sitting on the edge of her bed. I try to drag the cashmere blanket off her face, but Riley holds on tight. I hear a tiny frustrated growl, and can’t help but smirk. It’s barely a kitten growl and does she really think she has the strength to fight me? I weigh slightly over 200 pounds and Riley is 100 pounds, max. If we’re going to play tug-of-war with her blanket, she’s going to lose. Unless I let her win.
“You have to bear with me for a few more days until Lila comes back,” I tell her grumpily.
“I don’t need a damn babysitter.”
She’s being a brat now. I roll my eyes. “I’m no babysitter, Little Wallflower.”
Riley peeks out from under her blanket. Her hair is disheveled, the loose strands falling over her face, obscuring my view of her. “Then what are you doing?”
That’s a good question. Because I…don’t know. Well, shit.
“Why are you here?” she asks tiredly, her eyes red and swollen.
“Because Lila asked me to be here.”
Her chest rattles with a shaky breath. “Go home.”
“I can’t,” I grumble. “Because if I leave, Lila will be mad. And if she gets mad, Maddox will beat my ass.”
Her pale face tightens in a grimace. “I don’t want you here out of pity, Bennett,” she says tiredly. “If you’re even capable of that.”
Suddenly, I feel irked.
I lean forward, taking her by surprise. Her mouth parts with a silent gasp when my hands settle on either side of her head. Caging her in. Like the broken-winged sparrow I captured once.
Thud. The last time we were this close, it was the night of my party. When Grayson punched me. Thud. She swallows, her delicate throat bobbing.
I’m suddenly filled with the urge to nibble on the skin of her throat, to taste her. To tease. To see what my bitemarks look like on her pale skin. Goddamn it, Riley Johnson is trouble.
“Is this what pity looks like to you?” My head lowers, bringing our faces closer. My breath fans over her pink lips. Lips that I remember tasted of clementines. “My heart is too bitter for pity, Johnson. I’m not about to go soft on you just because your precious boyfriend broke your heart. Oh wait, sorry. I mean, ex -boyfriend.”
Her eyes grow dark.“Shut up,” Riley spits out, her chin wobbling.
I don’t. Because I see it in her gaze now. The burning fire and the unmasked fury. There you are, Riley. I see you.
“You know what your problem is?” I chuckle dryly. “You were too lonely and desperate to be loved, so you held onto the first guy who was nice to you. He was gentle and you thought— there’s the perfect man for me . Now you’re nursing your broken heart, all depressed and oh poor, Riley. I don’t pity gullible girls.”
Her hands land on my chest and she shoves me with all her strength. It’s not enough to push me away, but I pull back, anyway.
She jerks up into a sitting position. “You have no right to judge me and my love,” Riley hisses, her cheeks flushing with anger.
“Oh, I’m not judging.” I flash her a brittle smile. “I’m just telling you how it is. You’re willfully blind. But that ain’t my problem.”
Riley points at the door, her finger shaking. “Get out.”
“I will, after you eat your food.” I cross my arms over my chest, waiting stubbornly.
Her chest heaves, and when she realizes I’m not budging, Riley makes a sound of indignation in the back of her throat. Something close to the snarl of a fragile cub. She reaches for the plate I made her and takes a big angry bite of her sandwich.
She chews aggressively, her eyes on me. Beautiful, dark, and frustrated.
Riley finishes the sandwich in just a few bites, and then shoves the plate at me. “Done, now leave!” she says through a mouthful.
I simply point at the water bottle on her nightstand. “Water.”
“Ugh!” She snatches the bottle and takes two sips.
Finally satisfied, I rise to my feet, straightening to my full height. There we go, job done.
Wait—
I shove my hand into my pocket, taking out the mint candy I have kept there. I leave it on Riley’s nightstand, and then walk away.
See, I can be civil.
Lila has nothing to worry about.