10. Riley
The way Logancuts off our conversation and leaves so abruptly is so… so… ugh.
It’s just so him. It’s fucking maddening, is what it is. Especially because he did that thing again. Almost opening up to me for a second. Showing me that there’s more to him than the cold-blooded killer facade he wears every day. He’s not like anyone else I’ve ever met, and every time I start to feel like I know what to expect from him, he proves me wrong. He’s a total mystery to me, and talking to him feels like playing Russian roulette. I never know which chamber will hold the bullet.
And still, I can”t deny that I’m drawn to him. Everything I learn about him is hard won, but each new facet just makes me more curious to find out more.
That’s not going to happen tonight, though. Or ever, I guess, since this partnership between me and the Reapers ends the moment we find my sister.
Both parts of that thought leave a sour taste in my mouth for different reasons, so I do my best to shove the whole thing out of my mind and settle down to actually do what they all seem to want me to: get some fucking sleep.
It’s not easy. I close my eyes and slow my breathing, but my brain doesn’t get the memo, my thoughts racing almost out of control. Now that I don’t have the distraction Dante and then Logan provided, I’m left reeling from everything I learned tonight. I need to sift through it all, make sense of it, come up with a plan. But I also really, really want to just sink into oblivion and not have to deal with all these changes to the world I thought I was living in. The one where Chloe was my one constant, and I thought I had the Reapers figured out too.
They never did answer me about which one of them planned on marrying her to take control of her inheritance, but honestly, I don’t know why I even bothered to ask. It won’t be Logan. I can’t even fathom it. And Dante… okay, I can picture that, and the image bothers me more than it should.
But it wouldn’t be Dante. I smother a silent laugh, rolling over and punching the pillow into a more comfortable shape. All three men clearly have control issues—and I’m just fucked-up enough that contemplating that fact has my body responding in ways that remind me of the relief I didn’t give myself after Logan barged in and interrupted me—but the truth is, if someone’s going to control the wealth that the Reapers need to come out on top in this stupid gang war of theirs, there’s no way in hell Maddoc would ever let it be anyone but him.
So, fine. Maddoc then. He wants to marry my sister.
Something ugly and dark rushes through me. It’s anger on Chloe’s behalf, helpless rage at Maddoc’s high-handed plans to use her for his own ends, and… something else too. Something that spreads like spilled ink in my chest, blotting out all those moments that I’m still trying to tell myself didn’t mean anything between us.
Fuck being hurt, though. And fuck any jealousy too. Neither of those feelings is going to do either me or Chloe a damn bit of good, and Maddoc—none of the Reapers—fucking deserve them.
Besides, it won’t even be an issue. I won’t let Maddoc, Austin McKenna, or any other man use my sister. I may agree with Maddoc that the best way to find her is to work together, and I’m a hell of a lot more comfortable now that I’m not cuffed to the bed, but the moment we find Chloe, the deal is over.
If anyone should understand that, it’s Maddoc.
I’m exhausted by the way my thoughts keep circling back to him. Thankfully, my exhaustion eventually pulls me into a deep sleep… but that does fuck all for me when I immediately start dreaming about him.
“I hate you,” I murmur, letting my head fall back as Maddoc drives his cock into me. I’m not sure where we are. Not sure it even matters. But then I realize of course it does, and everything snaps into place.
We’re in the kitchen again, but this time it’s as pristine and orderly as it was after Logan set it to rights. There’s no sign of the struggle we got into the night I shot him. Nothing is broken yet. There’s no blood, no bullet wounds, nothing but swiftly rising pleasure that threatens to overwhelm me.
I can’t let it.
“I fucking hate you,” I pant, not sure if I’m reminding him or myself.
Maddoc doesn’t react. If anything, he fucks me even harder. And goddammit, just like when it happened for real, I like it too much.
I have to end it.
I reach for the gun he left on the counter, knowing exactly how to make that happen, except this time, it’s not there.
Maddoc grips my throat, his hips grinding against me as he smiles down at me with heat in his eyes. “What do you want, Riley?”
I try to ignore how good he feels inside me. “Your gun.”
He laughs, the sound slow and sensual. “Why? I know you won’t kill me.”
“I can’t. Not without that fucking gun.”
He drags his hand from my throat down the center of my chest. Passing over the scar. Trailing down over my stomach.
He rubs my clit, his thrusts slowing as need, white-hot and urgent, slowly builds inside me. “That’s not why.”
I want to look away, deny that I know what he means, but the dream doesn’t allow for it. My eyes stay locked onto his as I shake my head, then arch against him with a gasp when he drives in to the hilt.
“That’s it,” he says, his hands taking possession of every part of me as he fucks me even deeper. “You can’t deny me. You can’t deny this.”
I want to.
I try.
But he feels so fucking good, his cock giving me exactly what I’ve needed so badly all night, and since a part of me knows it’s not real, it’s all too easy to give in. To lose myself in the rhythm and heat of his thrusts, in the seductively dirty promises he makes as he pushes me higher and higher.
“You feel so fucking good. Like you were made for my cock. The only one—”
“Fuck you,” I rasp, a sharp pain lancing through the rising pleasure.
Because that’s a lie. I’m not the only one.
He wants to marry my fucking sister.
Maddoc’s eyes blaze, and before I know what hits me, he pulls out and flips me over so I’m facing away from him. Facing the same counter he fucked me on for real.
“Fuck you,” I repeat, bracing my hands against it and pushing backward as all the feelings I tried to suppress while falling asleep rise up inside me again.
It’s an unstoppable tide that I can’t escape, not even here. Not even now.
It pisses me off. I just want to come. I want to enjoy this.
And I want to hate him and end it too.
But Maddoc is fucking Maddoc, so of course he doesn’t give me a choice. He crowds up against me, the heat of his body melting everything else away, and for one sweet-as-sin, shamefully perfect moment, nothing else matters.
“Yes,” I whisper, letting it happen. “Fuck, yes.”
His hard, wet cock digs into me from behind and he tangles his hand in my hair, then yanks my head back, taking my mouth in a vicious kiss.
“It’s you, butterfly,” he growls once he releases me.“It’s only you.”
I don’t know what that means, but it’s exactly what I needed to hear.
“Please,” I gasp. Then, “fuck,” when he slams me down on the counter, bending me over it and holding me there as he shoves back into me.
It’s rough and dirty and fucking perfect.
“That’s right. Gonna fuck you until you stop fighting it. Take it just like that, baby. Let me give you what you need.”
Yes, god. Fuck. More.
I’m so close, but I can’t seem to get there. He promised to give me what I need, but I don’t even know what the fuck that is. Then he slaps my ass hard enough to sting, and I scream, pleasure mixing with pain and blotting everything else out of my mind.
I sag against the counter, surrendering. It doesn’t matter if I know or not. Maddoc’s in charge, just like he fucking likes it… and maybe that is what I need.
The moment I have that thought, I realize we’re not alone… and I also realize I was wrong. Because this is what I need more than anything. I need his two best friends here too. A part of this, like they’ve always been.
Dante and Logan are watching, and suddenly I’m right there, teetering on the edge of an orgasm.
When Maddoc slams that thick cock of his into me again, I scream, coming so hard I—
I wake myself up.
“God, fuck, shit,” I whisper, panting in the dark as my body throbs in the aftermath of pleasure. I’m wet between my legs and the sheets are tangled around me, and the afterimage burned into my brain from that dream almost has me coming all over again.
I fist my hands in the sheets, trying to get control of my breathing and deny the intensity of what just happened, but before I manage either of those things, the door to my room slams open.
Maddoc bursts in, throwing on the overhead light and sending my heart right up into my throat.
“What the fuck?” I gasp, scrambling upright as reality careens into the aftermath of that dream, throwing me into a surreal moment of confusion. “What are you doing?”
His steps slow, his gaze finally settling on me after searching the room. “You’re alone.”
My heart starts to pound. “Of course I’m fucking alone.”
“I heard you scream,” Maddoc says, scowling as his eyes rove through the corners of my room again. “I thought…”
He doesn’t finish, just stares at me with an intensity that has my pussy flooding with heat again.
He thought I was in danger.
He came for me.
I look away, too confused to even start to know how to react to that.
Anger. Anger would be good. Safest, at least. But all I can hear is his voice in my dream, laughing seductively when I told him I wanted to kill him. Knowing I didn’t mean it.
“Riley?”
I glare at him.
It has no effect.
“Why did you scream?”
My cheeks flush with heat, and I hate him harder than I ever have before. He stares back at me like he fucking gets off on it, the intensity of his gaze slowly going from concern to something… hotter.
“Fuck you,” I mutter. “It was just a nightmare.”
The asshole smirks. “Was it?”
“Yes,” I snap, my whole body thrumming with tension as something builds between us.
Then he sighs and the tension breaks. “Since you’re up, we need you downstairs,” he says, jerking his chin toward the door. “Come on. We’re working on a search plan for the day.”
“I’ll be right down,” I say stiffly, clutching the covers to my chest as I realize they’re pooled at my waist, exposing me to him.
“Hurry,” he says with a curt nod, his face shuttered and cold again.
He turns and leaves, and I shower quickly, keeping the water as cold as I can stand. I have to. I refuse to think about the fact that I just had a sex dream about not just Maddoc, but Logan and Dante being there too.
It only happened because I’m so stressed out. Obviously, I needed the fucking release, and they were just what my brain conveniently pulled up to get me there.
It’s the story I stick with as I quickly wash up and dress, and by the time I head downstairs, I’ve pushed it out of my head completely. In fact, I feel almost… good.
The guys are all in the kitchen, and I don’t let myself think about what happened here—not in real life, and not last night in my dream—when I sit down where Logan directs me and let him feed me another one of his home-cooked breakfasts.
Just like every other time he’s fed me, it’s fucking amazing, and I have to bite my tongue not to say so. I’m definitely hungry, though… and dammit, even though I don’t admit how good it is, I can’t help noticing the ghost of a smile he gets as he watches me enjoy it.
Thankfully, Maddoc gets down to business, and my priorities click back into place.
“You guys really haven’t found any sign of her?” I ask, worried more than I care to admit if that’s true. Now that I’ve agreed to help them and know what’s at stake, Chloe staying under the radar has gone from reassuring to frightening the fuck out of me.
Chloedoesn’t know what’s at stake, and she’s been gone for a few days now. I honestly have no idea where she might have gone. Worse, it’s all too easy to imagine her accidentally reaching out to the wrong person and walking right back into a trap.
Dante drums his fingers over the map they’ve laid out on the counter. “Who would she turn to for help, princess?”
“I don’t know. Frank fucked her over, and we don’t have any family.”
“Friends?” Maddoc asks.
I shake my head. “She has them, but…” I shrug helplessly.
Can I list off some names for them? Sure, a few. But Chloe is too much like me. She doesn’t trust easily, and even the few people she was closer with wouldn’t be anyone she’d trust while she’s on the run like this.
“She’ll try to make it on her own,” Logan states, staring at me in that eerie way he has. “She won’t want to rely on anyone else. Not until she can reconnect with you.”
“That’s right,” I whisper, my throat tightening up. I don’t have time for that shit though, so I clear it and straighten up on the stool, leaning forward. I push my plate aside and look at the map. “She won’t risk coming back here, but she knows I’ll… that I would have… that I’d do whatever it takes to get away from you and find her.”
“Of course,” Dante murmurs, something too warm for comfort glowing in his green eyes when I glance up at him.
I look back at the map, tapping a spot a few miles away from the Reapers house. “This plaza, the one with the fountain? We used to go there sometimes. She wouldn’t hang around there for long. It’s too public. But she’ll probably check in there periodically to see if I show up.”
“That’s on the edge of West Point’s territory,” Maddoc says, frowning. “We’ve got eyes there, but I’ll make sure they’re around the clock. Where else?”
I point out a few more places that she might expect to meet up with me, then a couple of others where I could see her trying to hole up and stay out of sight. And every fucking one of them ends up being somewhere that Maddoc’s already had someone check.
“Maybe they need to check again,” I snap, my worry and frustration spilling over.
“And maybe you won’t be as much help as we thought,” he cracks back, his eyes boring into me.
I bristle, about to bite his head off, when Dante shifts closer to me. He rests his hand on my thigh below the counter in a silent show of support, and I…
Fuck. I hate him for it. It soothes something in me, helps settle my frayed emotions, and that’s obviously what he wants. We’ve already established that neither of us can trust each other, so all he’s trying to do is manipulate me into giving them what they want.
I shift away and Dante lets his hand drop, and I finally give in and voice the thought that I’ve been avoiding. “Maybe we should check in with Frank. He’s a piece of shit, but Chloe’s always been quicker to forgive than she should be.”
“She shouldn’t forgive him for selling her to McKenna,” Logan states in that flat, emotionless way he has. “Not ever.”
“You really think Chloe would reach out to your father?” Maddoc asks, frowning thoughtfully.
I grimace, but I can’t deny that it’s possible. “He’s the only family we have, and he may not be worthy of the title, but Chloe never stopped hoping it meant something. She won’t be stupid enough to actually trust him again—”
“Good,” Dante says sharply.
I glare at him. I agree, but I don’t need his show of support. “—but if she’s desperate, she might,” I finish.
“That really would be fucking stupid,” Maddoc says dryly. “Especially with Sutton’s ties to McKenna.”
I turn my glare on him. “Fuck off. It’s not like Chloe has a lot of options. Besides, don’t we all do stupid shit when we’re desperate?”
Case in point, the last time I got truly desperate, I turned to the motherfucking Reapers for help.
Maddoc smirks. Oh, he understands my glare perfectly. Message sent and received.
“Let’s pay a visit to Frank Sutton,” he says, getting to his feet.
It’s the last thing I want to do, but on the bright side, at least it kills off the last, lingering trace of that dream.
And on the brighter side, maybe—just maybe—it will get us one step closer to finding Chloe.