24. Dante
That evening,when someone drops off the clothes I arranged to get for Riley, I head up to her room with the bags in hand. I knock at the same time I turn the knob and open the door, and Riley startles a little as she turns to face me.
I hold up the bags. “It’s just me. I come bearing gifts.”
She’s still wearing just the towel, and she looks relieved as her gaze scans over all the shit I’m holding. “New clothes?”
“Yup.” I glance around, a frown tugging at my lips as I take note of the rest of her stuff. Her former stuff. I see why she needed new shit to wear. The room looks like a hurricane ripped through it. Everything we brought over from her apartment has been shredded to ribbons.
So that’s what happened between her and Logan last night. Damn.
“Here you go. Look through it all and make sure you’ve got what you need,” I say, handing over the new clothes and then leaving her for a second to go grab a trash bag.
Riley’s set all the shopping bags on the bed when I get back, but it looks like she hasn’t opened them yet. She’s got her back to me, standing at the window looking out at fuck knows what. She doesn’t turn around when I come into the room this time, and I leave her be for a second while I start picking up pieces of tattered material off the floor and shoving them into the bag.
Logan really did a number on them. The colors are gorgeous, the fabric feels nice, but I can’t even tell which scraps were part of what from the way he sliced them up so fine. This level of carnage must’ve taken him a while. I have no fucking clue what set him off, but that sense of concern I felt when he was so withdrawn this morning comes back tenfold.
Except this time, it’s weirdly mixed up with some feelings for Riley too.
She’s still got her back to me, and I frown as I grab another handful of her former clothing and shove it into the bag.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” I ask as I methodically clear it away.
“No,” she says, still staring out the window.
I nod even though she can’t see me, accepting her answer.
No, respecting it.
Everything about this girl pulls me in a little more. Sure, part of me is curious about what went down between her and Logan. It was obviously intense. But a bigger part of me is impressed that she’s not letting it break her. She hasn’t begged us to let her go or tried to flee in the night. She’s seen the darkness in all of us by now, and she hasn’t run from it.
“What do you think West Point is doing to Chloe?” she asks out of the blue.
I pause, hand outstretched toward a shiny piece of black fabric. I’ve got no fucking clue why those weasels snatched her sister in the first place, much less what they’ve been up to in the time that they’ve had her, but I can think of dozens of possible answers that might be true.
None would be kind, though. True or not, thinking too hard about that shit when Riley can’t do anything about it—not at the moment, at least—isn’t something I have any interest in putting her through.
“You can ask her when we get her back,” I say, then bite my tongue before I say the second part out loud. Or avenge her if we don’t.
That’s another thought Riley doesn’t need on her mind right now… especially because I know damn well how unsatisfying revenge really is in the end. Necessary, of course, and I’ll make sure she gets vengeance for her sister if it comes down to it. But even though I made my dad’s killer pay dearly for what he took from me, the memory of the man’s screams over the long days it took to end him is never gonna be enough to make up for the way it gutted me not to have been able to save my dad in the first place.
I shove that memory aside, focusing on Riley again. She’s still looking out the window, and I have a feeling she’s still thinking about her sister. Worrying about her.
I should probably just leave it alone and let silence fall between us, but I don’t. Instead, I say, “Tell me about Chloe. What’s she like?”
“Did Maddoc show you her picture?” she asks, finally turning around to face me.
“Nope.” I grab another handful of scraps. “She look like you?”
“More like our father,” she says, grimacing. But she does what I asked, telling me a few stories about her sister as I finish cleaning up the shredded clothes. She sits on the bed after a while, the towel still wrapped around her, and by the time I’m done, she looks a little more relaxed.
“She sounds like a good kid,” I say. “And smart too. You did a good job raising her, and that’ll serve her well.”
“Thanks, Dante,” Riley says with a tentative smile as I bag the last of the shredded clothes. “You really are the nicest of them, aren’t you?”
I chuckle, shaking my head, and toss the bag out into the hall. “Best not to judge a book by its cover, princess. None of us are the nice one.”
“How long have you known Maddoc and Logan?” she asks, fiddling with the edge of the towel. It barely covers her ass the way she’s sitting on the bed, and she looks sexy as fuck with nothing but that fluffy piece of fabric hiding her athletic curves.
“It’s been a few years,” I say.
Riley smirks. “That’s really all you’re going to give me?”
I chuckle at the way she called me out, clearly noticing that I glossed over the details on purpose. The less anyone knows about you, the less ammunition they have to use against you, so it’s just old habit at this point—which is why it makes no fucking sense at all that a part of me wants to tell her the whole story of how I came into Maddoc’s orbit.
I don’t, of course. That would be fucking stupid. But I decide to give her something else that I know will be of interest to her.
“You catch that conversation we were having in the kitchen this morning?” I ask.
She instantly leans forward, looking alert. “I heard something about West Point when I walked in. Was it about Chloe?”
“We were going over some new information,” I tell her. “Seems that those fucking weasels have been putting pressure on some of our contractors to stop doing business with us.”
“Contractors?”
“Businesses and individuals who aren’t in the organization, but who we do business with.”
She nods. “So they’re trying to weaken you. It really is a war, isn’t it?”
“It is,” I say grimly. Then I grin. “But hey, having something concrete like this to move on gives us a real beef with West Point, and that’s only gonna mean good things when it comes to helping you.”
“It is? How?”
Shit, the hope that lights up her face is… well, it’s fucking beautiful is what it is.
“It’ll light a fire under Maddoc’s ass,” I say. “He’s already got a score to settle with McKenna, and getting your sister out can be a part of that.” I grin, gesturing to the bags of new clothes. “Now come on. Let’s get you dressed.”
She bites her lip, then nods. I smile as she clambers off the bed and starts pulling clothes out. I was pretty fucking specific with my instructions on what to grab for her, and the kid I tapped to pick it all up did good. Every piece is gonna suit her, I can already tell.
Although, like I told her this morning, the towel she’s in isn’t a bad look either.
I reach down to subtly adjust my cock as she picks up a soft-looking sweater. She touches it gently, smiling. “Chloe gave me a mood ring this color.”
“Mood ring?”
She touches the glittering black skull in the side of her nose. “That’s what Chloe calls my nose rings.”
“Huh.” I nudge her aside and rustle around through the bags, then pull out the dress I had Dylan pick up for the club tonight, along with the new nose ring he found.
The skull she’s got in is hot, but this one is bold and blood red. My favorite color and fucking perfect for the way Riley takes on every challenge.
“Here.” I hand both to her. “You’ll want to wear these tonight, not that sweater.”
She looks at them in confusion. “Tonight? Why? What’s happening tonight?”
Before I can answer, Madd steps into the room. His eyes narrow as he catches sight of us standing so close together. I know he doesn’t like the fact that I’ve taken an interest in her, but I’m pretty sure it’s not because he’s jealous. It’s because she’s gotten under his skin too, and he has no fucking idea what to do about it.
“Everything good here?” he asks me, giving me a piercing look.
“Yup, all good.” I drop my hands, letting Riley have the dress and the ring. “Riley was about to get dressed.”
“Hurry up,” he says, his voice clipped and his temper obviously short. “We leave in twenty.”
“Leave?” Riley looks between the two of us. “Where are we going? Is someone going to tell me what the fuck is going on, or are you both just gonna act like I’m not even here? You’re pretty good at that, aren’t you, Maddoc?”
Madd’s jaw clenches. Riley is still wrapped in the towel, and when he flicks his gaze toward her, something loaded passes between them.
Damn. What the fuck have I been missing out on?
First Logan this morning, and now Maddoc. I don’t know what the cause of the tension between them is, but I can feel it in the air like a fucking haze. Or maybe I’m wrong. Maybe he’s just wound up about confronting McKenna tonight, and he’s taking it out on Riley.
But somehow, I think there’s more to it than that.
“Club Prestige,” he tells Riley after a long moment. “Don’t make us late.”
Then he strides out without another word.
“We’re going clubbing?” Riley scrunches up her nose as she stares after him. “How is that supposed to help me get Chloe back?”
“Because West Point owns the club,” I say, arching a brow at her. “So get that dress on and meet us downstairs so we can go, yeah?”
Her jaw drops at that revelation, and she nods once, her demeanor changing instantly now that she knows this has something to do with West Point and Austin McKenna. She slips out of the room and heads to the bathroom, and I gather up the bag of discarded clothes I put in the hall earlier, doing a final sweep of her room before closing the door. I start to head toward the stairs, but before I get more than a few steps, Riley’s voice calls out from the bathroom.
“Hey, Dante. Can you help me for a second?”
“Sure, princess. What’s up?”
I drop the bag of fabric and push the bathroom door open, my eyes meeting hers in the mirror. She’s got the ring I picked out for her in her nose and the dress I chose on her body, and something hot and possessive rears up inside me at the sight. I wasn’t lying when I told her I liked seeing her in my clothes, and this feels sort of like the same thing.
She looks gorgeous.
“What do you need?” I ask, dragging my gaze back up to meet her eyes.
“I can’t reach the zipper. Can you…?”
She trails off, turning around to show me the back of the dress.
“Yeah, I’ve got you.” I step inside, pushing the thick waves of her hair aside and running a finger down the curve of her spine.
She shivers, and my cock thickens.
The tight little dress hangs open in the back, exposing all that creamy skin with nothing to block my view. No bra strap. She doesn’t need one, not with the way the dress is cut.
The zipper pull is stuck at the bottom, just over the swell of her ass.
“This what you need help with, princess?” I ask, my voice coming out husky.
She nods. “It’s stuck.”
Her skin feels smooth and satiny, and arousal burns through me when goosebumps dot her flesh as I trace the top of her thong. “It’s caught in the lace here.”
“Can you…?”
“Yeah.” I step closer, wrapping one hand around her hip as I free the zipper and start to slide it up her back. “This looks good on you,” I murmur as the two halves slowly come together, encasing her in blood-red silk.
“It… feels good,” she whispers, her body shivering slightly under my hands.
Fuck yeah, it does. My fingers brush against her skin, and I slow the pace to a crawl, dragging it out.
It feels more than good. It feels strangely intimate, even more so than sex, in a way.
Riley’s breath hitches. “Dante?”
“Yeah,” I repeat thickly, not even sure what her question was.
Hell, I’m not sure about anything with this girl.She’s not like anyone I’ve ever known, such a strange mix of strength and vulnerability. Beautiful, but with a bite to her. Irresistible.
When I’m done with the zipper, I drag my fingers higher, pushing her head to the side and baring her neck as I smooth those gorgeous waves of purple and blue hair over her shoulder. Then I drop my head and kiss the side of her neck.
Riley tenses up when my lips touch her skin, but then she makes the most delicious little sound and sways back, leaning into me. I wrap my arms around her, tugging her tighter against my body.
“You drive me fucking crazy,” I murmur, nuzzling behind her ear and drawing in a deep breath. She smells as good as she looks.
“I’m pretty sure I’m the one going crazy,” she whispers back with a disbelieving laugh, like she can’t figure out what’s going on.
That makes two of us.
Her body may be relaxed and pliant in my arms, but her voice is strained, and I can’t blame her. She’s in a fucked-up situation that’s gotta be just as stressful as it is confusing.
This right here, though? This is simple.
This is just… good.
I drag my nose along her neck, humming with pleasure as desire heats my veins and my cock strains the denim of my jeans, pushing against her ass.
“Crazy,” she repeats softly, tipping her head to give me better access as her eyes flutter closed.
My lips brush against her skin again, and I bite back a groan. I’m not the one to tell her she’s not going crazy—living in this house with us is probably proof that she’s right about that—but at least she’s in good company.
We’re all a little mad here.