Chapter 10
Ten
Raven
The click of my door latch.
It’s not a sound I ever want to hear, and I’m instantly awake.
It takes a moment to realize it’s not someone breaking in, it’s someone leaving. The bed is empty, Declan’s gone. The sheet is still warm where he lay.
He’s left me, naked and sticky with the residue of our sex, and didn’t even say goodbye.
If I’m surprised, it’s only in how long he stayed.
What time is it?
I reach for my phone. Five fucking thirty.
That’s a man sneaking out before he’s caught if ever there was one.
I didn’t feel dirty when he made me do those things, but I do now.
I didn’t feel rejected when it must’ve been obvious to him I lacked experience.
I do now.
Bastard.
Utter. Fucking. Bastard.
I pull the duvet up under my chin, seeking comfort I know I won’t find, but it smells of him, of us, of his cologne. I shove it away again, and blink back tears of humiliation.
Except it’s not just humiliation, it’s loss. The specific loss of his weight beside me, his arm across my waist, the sound of his breathing.
All gone.
Why did I think this would be any different?
Why haven’t I learned?
The worst bit is I liked it. And not just the orgasms and the intimacy, the way he felt inside me, but his dominance, the way he smashed past all my defenses and got inside my head. The way he read me like I was an open book, and made me do things I wouldn’t ever have considered doing.
Of course I wouldn’t be anything more than a notch on a bedpost to a man like him. Some silly girl, years younger, just a warm place to push his cock for one night, and gone.
And me, thinking we had a connection.
My fists thump into the mattress.
I’m such a damn fool.
And now I want nothing more than a shower, to wash him from my body.
My apartment is empty, his clothes gone, but his scent still lingers. I have air freshener in the cupboard under the sink, and half a can later, I can hardly breathe. Much better.
I stand under the hot shower, washing my hair and every inch of my body, thinking of where he touched me. Trying not to replay last night and the things he did. I did. He told me to do.
The way he pinned me down. The feel of his tongue.
The way my body responded, and is responding again, even now.
No.
Fuck, no.
Goddamn tears in my eyes, and I hate crying.
Why don’t I learn?
I knew this would happen. Deep down, I knew it would. I still let him get close. And damn, if ‘close’ wasn’t what he got. Not just inside me, but under my skin, too. In ways no one else has ever achieved.
So yay. Not just discarded and abandoned again, but fucked up too.
I let out a shuddering breath and turn the shower on full-cold. That wakes me up, and a minute later, I step out gasping, skin covered in goosebumps.
My apartment feels smaller, somehow, and I try to see it through his eyes. The couch, where he fucked me with his tongue. The TV, the cramped kitchen. The door to my bedroom, the wall he pinned me against.
And suddenly, I don’t want to be here anymore. Not in my apartment, not even in the goddamn city. I don’t even want to take a ride; it wouldn’t be safe anyway. I’d probably look at that edge, and wonder how it would feel as my tires crossed it, the valley dropping away steeply beneath me.
No. That is not you.
But where can I go?
As soon as I’ve asked the question, the answer comes to me: I can go home.
I told my brother I would, I just didn’t say when. But now seems like a damn fine time. The job is done, and I don’t want to be here. And even if I don’t want to see my folks, at least they’re family. Psychologically safe, in their psychologically unsafe way.
Besides, I do want to see Dad, especially since he’s unwell. It’s Mom who’s the problem. Always been the problem.
The reality is the opposite: I’ve always been her problem. She’s never wanted me, the girl who doesn’t conform, never good enough for her. Too rebellious, too spirited, too many questions, too goddamn independent for my devoted mother.
It’s still a better option than hanging around here. How pathetic is that?
Decision made, I get my laptop out. Flights to Utah are frequent, and there’s one leaving from LAX at ten. Time enough to drop in on Kurt as I pass, let him know I’ll be gone. I’m sure he can spare me a week.
It’s four hundred dollars for an open return trip, which is a decent chunk of my savings. Another reason to visit Kurt: I could use some cash.
Seven-thirty, and I’m out the door with a backpack of clothes, ignoring the empty space where that bastard parked his Fireblade. With any luck, Kurt won’t use him next time, and I’ll never have to see him again. If he does want to use him, that’s fine too—it doesn’t mean I have to be there.
I ride over to the Arts District and the new unit, dressed in normal clothes for once.
Jeans and a leather jacket that isn’t a biking one, no armor on its shoulder or elbows.
Something I can wear on the plane until I change into the conservative summer dress in my bag that my parents will expect their daughter to wear.
Along with another pair of jeans and a few tops, because I might chicken out.
I park up outside the unit and hit the buzzer. There’s a delay before the door clicks open, and I walk in and head up the stairs. Tasha’s here as she always is, working on her laptop.
“Hey, girl. I was just about to make a coffee. Want one?” She rattles that off without looking up, then she does, and her face shows shock, then hardens. “What’s happened?”
Do I look that bad?
“Nothing, far as I know. Just came by to see Kurt.”
“He’s not here. He’s riding up to San Fran for a couple of days on… business.”
Fencing the proceeds of the bank job, in other words.
“Crap. Well, I’m also taking some time off. Going to be gone for a bit.”
Tasha’s eyebrows go up. “Where to?”
“Home.” I give a poignant smile. “My dad’s not well, and I’ve left it too long.”
Her stare seems to go straight through me. “Kurt said you left with Declan last night.”
“Uh… no. Left by myself.” Technically true. He followed me.
“Right…” she says, unconvinced. “So the whole ‘just been fucked and sad about it’ look is… what… a disappointing evening with a vibrator?”
It takes two seconds for her words to sink in, then the blush that hits I can’t hope to control. My face heats, my body tightens, while tears fill my eyes. I can’t look at her.
“Oh, baby,” she says, getting up from the sofa and coming to take me into her arms. “What the hell happened?”
I’m saved from trying to answer by the door below opening, and Dario runs up the stairs.
I’ve never been more glad to see him, because there’s no way I’m going to open up in front of him.
I step out of Tasha’s hug, just as he walks into the room, glancing between us like he can sense the atmosphere.
“Morning?”
“Yes, it is,” Tasha says dryly.
He looks at her, back at me, frowns. “Do I need to go back out?”
“You’re fine.” I wave him to the other couch. “Tasha was about to make coffee.”
“Yeah, I was. Give me a hand, Raven?”
“Yeah, give her a hand, Raven,” Dario echoes. “Double espresso. I’m gonna sit on the sofa and not listen to whatever you two are talking about.” He flops down and pulls out his phone, studiously ignoring us.
I follow Tasha into the small but well-equipped kitchen, where she turns to me expectantly. “There’s nothing to tell,” I mutter. “I’m just taking a few days away, okay?”
“And you last took a trip back home… never?”
I wince. It has been a while. “‘Never’ isn’t true,” I protest. “I went three years ago.”
“Yeah,” she says with an exaggerated nod, like I just lost an argument I didn’t know we were having. “Right after bum number two.”
Fuck.
I hadn’t even thought of that, but she’s correct.
“This is different,” I say lamely. “My dad’s—”
“Let’s go with that excuse,” she agrees easily enough, pulling cups out of the cupboard. “Tell me one thing?”
“What?” I say cautiously.
She sets them down on the counter, then meets my eyes. “Do I need to kill Declan?”
Yes. No. Maybe.
“Uh…”
Tasha purses her lips. “What do you want me to say if he turns up?”
Turn up? He’s long gone. “He won’t turn up.”
“If he does?”
I cross my arms, not even wanting to consider it. “He can do what the fuck he likes. If he comes here… then it’s business, isn’t it? Give him a job. But tell Kurt I’m not working with him anymore.”
“Uh-huh.” She tilts her head, regarding me. “So why are you here? Now, I mean?”
Yeah, good point. “To let Kurt know I’ll be gone, but I’ll drop him a message.” A pause. “I was hoping I could have an early payment…”
“There’s money,” Tasha says lightly. “I’ll get you some. It’ll be a few weeks until he shifts all the stuff, but he won’t mind if I advance you a few grand. Five enough?”
“I don’t need that much. It’s just a few days. One will be fine.”
“Easy.”
Caleb picks me up from the airport in his Mustang.
“Just that?” he asks as I climb in, eyeing my backpack.
“Happy Fourth. Nice to see you too, been ages, yes, good flight, I’m really well, thanks for asking.” I fasten my seat belt and give him a look.
He returns it impassively. “Are you staying for more than today?”
“Haven’t decided yet. Are you going to be an asswipe, Asswipe? Might not make it that long.”
He breaks into a grin, reaches over, and tousles my hair, making me jerk back. “It’s good to see you, Snotnose. You’re looking well.” His head tilts. “Though your mouth is all turned down. Is that a Dad thing, or is something else bugging you?”
Surprisingly insightful of my older brother. “Just the thought of hanging out with you.”
“I know you love me, so that’s not true.” He nudges the shift into first, pulling out into the traffic. Caleb doesn’t ride bikes, but he does drive a manual. That earns some points in my mind. “Last time you came home, it was guy trouble. Is it that, or the bank job you were nowhere near?”
Fuck. Not him too.
And how has he gone straight to the two points bugging me the most?