Coerced (Chastain Castle #3)

Landon

THE PLANE SHUDDERS VIOLENTLY, another wave of turbulence rocking all of its inhabitants. Susie clutches the armrest nestled between us with a disturbed sigh.

“It’ll be fine,” I reassure her, patting her hand with mine.

Her grip on the plastic doesn’t loosen as she shakes her head. “Or we die. Fuck. I don’t know why I’m doing this.”

“Because we love Julie?” I offer, stifling my laugh.

Susie finally smiles, giving me a weary look. “I guess I have him to blame then.”

I settle back into my seat, letting the bumps and jolts lull me into a state of dissociation.

We’re finally on our way to see Julian, who left us a few months ago to work for some well-off family in Oregon.

I haven’t been separated from him for this long in so many years that I doubt I ever truly have been.

Excitement is coursing through me so vividly that I have to shift in my seat, attempting to expel some of this energy.

In such a long period of time, he has to have missed me, right? I find it so hard to believe that he hasn’t been sitting around remembering the way it felt to be next to each other, touching each other, confiding in one another. During this time, has he come to his senses?

Before he left, Julian and I had been off and on seeing each other. Ever since that day when we were fifteen and Julian gave in to his urge to kiss me—with my assistance, but still his desire, thank you—we’ve been joined at the hip. Forever touching and talking.

Or, we were. The situation got a bit precarious when I opened my big mouth and told him I was in love with him. How was I supposed to keep it a secret when he was panting beneath me, spread out so prettily?!

And ever since then, though we still hooked up occasionally, Julian has been a bit… distant. Surely with all this time and space, he’s realized we’re meant to be, that he loves me. If my own emotions are anything to go by, he’s losing his mind, because I certainly am.

Mind you, I’m no saint. With an endless stream of income and startling good looks, I find myself surrounded by people who want in my pants or to party with me. So no, I’m no stranger to having a good time. But ever since I told him I loved him—and he rejected me—I’ve been a bit… abstinent?

Luckily, planning my reunion with Julian and dealing with Susie’s crazy personality have kept me busy enough to cope with the lack of sex.

Such as Susie losing her shit when I offered to cover the bills for our little condo in Cali, or while I was planning what my monologue was going to be once I saw Julian’s beautiful face.

That man is a catch. All dark and brooding when you first lay your eyes on him, then instantly vibrant and alive once he recognizes a familiar face. Plus, he’s resilient. Being raised the way he was has hardened him and made him empathetic.

We are the perfect pair: equally balanced in bed and loyal to a fault. If he hasn’t seen this by now, I don’t know what to make of it.

The plane touches down, rain clouds covering the dark sky above us.

“Finally,” Susie mutters, finally releasing her hold on the armrest.

“Told you we’d make it,” I joke.

All through deboarding, finding our rental car, and beginning the brief drive into Port Orford—the small port town Julian now occupies—I’m basically vibrating. I’m so close to him; I’m literally minutes from having him in my arms again. Right where he belongs.

“Listen,” Susie starts, her tone placating but stern.

“Enough,” I interrupt, unwilling to hear her spew about my leaving Julian alone for the hundredth time.

Susie is a big supporter of our not being together, and though it doesn’t make me resent her in any way, it does annoy me. She just doesn’t understand. But one day, she will. And so will Julie.

I’m so not used to being told no, to not getting my way.

I’m not saying I’ve used my gift of coercion to force someone to get into bed with me or to love me, but I’ve also never been faced with the choice.

Most people are more than willing to do both of those things with a simple smile thrown in their direction.

As if my body took notes from my gift the day I was born, I’ve just been kind of irresistible to the everyday population.

But in all other aspects of life? Such as getting out of traffic tickets, having my food made how I like it—even if the restaurant doesn’t offer substitutions—and convincing a grown man not to punch me as he catches me fucking his boyfriend?

My gift comes in handy.

Not that I’ve ever knowingly fucked a taken man; Andrew didn’t tell me he wasn’t single.

And then there’s Julie, who turned from me when I confessed. Who stopped writhing beneath me and tensed up, squeezing me like a vice as his eyes filled with tears. Julian reacted as if I had just told him his worst fear had come to life.

No one, and I mean no one, has ever taken my affection as a curse. As a punishment.

I’m determined to show him how wrong he is—how I am the love of his life, as he’s always been mine.

Between escaping my overbearing family by living in mine and Susie’s little condo and finally getting Julian back in mere minutes, I’m living the high life. Literally nothing could bring me down.

Well, nothing but the devastating sadness that lives inside of me. The therapist my parents assigned to me when I was seventeen, demanding we get to the root of my moping, said I have depression.

I think she was right. It’s a living, breathing thing inside of me that I’ve gotten pretty good at acclimating to. A heavy knot sits in my chest almost constantly, winding tighter and tighter as the day progresses and starting again the very next morning.

But now, instead of drowning in it as I did before, it’s become an extension of me. I’m used to feeling misery for no damn good reason—I can’t be perfect.

I think I was given this chemical imbalance to offset my gift and my natural charm. Something had to be wrong with me, right?

And as long as there is nothing for my depression to latch on to—some horrible incident or devastating event—then I’m okay with the sad ache I stomach every day.

As long as it doesn’t get that bad again, where I can’t move for days under the crushing weight of its negativity, I’m completely fine not taking meds or seeing a counselor every week.

I am totally and completely normal.

“We’re here. I just messaged Jules,” Susie suddenly speaks, interrupting my own lingering thoughts.

We’re in a neighborhood, having been directed by our map after getting an address from Julian, and the streets on either side of the road are packed with a handful of cars.

I can hear the music from inside the house to our left, lights flashing from beyond the windows. And as I’m trying to peer through one of those windows, the front door opens, and out steps Julian Walsh.

In his blue jeans with his brown hair ruffled, Julian breathes in the cold late December air like a living, walking wet dream. His eyes sparkle even from this distance as we get out of the car; a wide grin shapes his lips as Susie runs up the concrete pathway to throw herself into his arms.

I’ve seen this sight a million times, but it never gets old. I love the way people adore Julie; it’s almost impossible not to. As long as that like doesn’t turn into attraction, it makes my heart so happy to see him getting the affection he deserves.

“Julie!” Susie screeches, her voice bouncing off the pavement and launching itself against the streetlights.

“Hey, Susie. I missed you, too.” Julian laughs, wrapping his arms around the eager girl.

“Ugh, I thought I’d never see you again.”

Julian rolls his eyes. “You’re being dramatic as shit.”

“At least pretend you’ve been dying to see me!” she complains, her feet hitting the concrete as she slides off his body.

And I love it—the scene playing out before me—but I’m growing quite irritated that none of his attention has landed on me yet. What, I don’t exist?

“Can I get some of this reuniting love, too?” I ask, coming up behind Susie with a small smile covering my slight jealousy.

And Julian glows. The smile he was once sporting turns into a full-blown grin, his big, puppy-dog eyes turning awe-filled and sparkly.

Oh, yeah. He’s definitely missed me.

“Come here,” he tells me, and I don’t need to be told twice before I’ve shoved into his arms, rubbing my chest against his.

God, he feels so familiar. So safe and warm.

It drives me crazy that Julian is as built and sturdy as I am. It means I can’t break him—it means he’s real.

“Aww,” Susie coos from somewhere behind us. Aw is right.

I press my cheek to Julian’s, surprised to find his skin smooth and hairless as I breathe in the spicy scent of him.

“I’ve missed you,” I whisper into his ear, feeling the goosebumps rise on his skin.

And I know it could be from the chill of this gloomy state’s air, but I choose to believe otherwise.

“Yeah,” he breathes out. “You have no idea.”

Pulling back from him, I grin, taking in the slight, excited flush of his skin and his thick lashes. I’ve missed seeing him this close up. The only thing better than staring at his face is staring at his face as he comes.

I plan to see both tonight.

“Julian?” A gentle, feminine voice rings out, and Julian breaks my hold on him and turns to face the door.

She’s short and pretty, with long brown hair and big blue eyes. Definitely the kind of girl who used to turn Julian’s head back in Cali. His type with men and his type with women vary greatly.

I fucking hate her immediately.

“Hey, I’ll be right in,” Julian calls, and his voice wavers a bit. As if he’s nervous or embarrassed.

Or maybe, caught red-handed.

The woman at the door responds accordingly and slips back inside, leaving the three of us in momentary silence before Susie speaks.

“Sheesh, Julie. Who was that?” Susie moves to stand next to me, gaping at the closed front door.

And I stare at Julian, also insanely curious as to who the fuck that was and why he’s suddenly blushing and avoiding eye contact with me.

“Cassie. She’s a local,” he tells us.