18. Riley
Chapter 18
Riley
W hat in the actual fuck is happening right now?
I’m confused as shit as Creed pulls into the garage with a very angry exotic dancer yelling at him from the backseat. The whole ride, I sat in confused silence, staring a hole into the side of Creed’s head, unsure of what the fuck was going through his head or why he kidnapped a club dancer.
Meanwhile, the tiny but mighty firecracker in the back was verbally tearing him limb from limb the whole way home. I mean, I would, too, if I were her. I was honestly too scared to look back at her for fear of putting myself in the line of fire just by simply existing next to Creed.
I mean, I could’ve made him take her back to the club or even threatened to call the cops just to get him to let her go, but I stayed silent.
Why? Because of something that happened before Bear and I took T from the room after shit hit the fan. Both she and Creed had looks on their faces like they’d seen ghosts when the lights came back on. After I helped stuff Tony’s unconscious ass into Bear’s backseat, he’d muttered a quiet “I can’t fucking believe this shit,” and drove off, leaving me thoroughly lost and stuck waiting for Creed to leave the building.
I knew something was up when I got his text asking me to pick him up from the back exit, but I didn’t expect him to come practically running out the door with this girl slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
We’re back home now and after what felt like an endless car ride where Creed’s emotions reached a silent boiling point, he’s already stomped off into the house like he had a fire lit under his ass without so much as an explanation. Living with him for a few years now, I’ve learned that when he gets in his head and starts to overthink, he hyperfixates,obsesses, and never relents unless he has an outlet.
He’d only ever had one bad manic episode the entire time I knew him, and that was right around two years ago. He’s still Creed, but he’s different. A little unhinged and the leash on his emotions is much looser than it used to be.
I wish he felt comfortable enough to come to me when he’s struggling like he clearly is tonight. I think he does it to protect me, but he can’t protect everyone all the time. Creed’s always been a very private person when it comes to his past and doesn’t talk about it, other than occasionally mentioning a friend named Asher who he helped get clean and sober, who’s now apparently working for some new club in northern California. But now I can’t help but wonder if his current little manic episode has something to do with the girl now fuming in the back seat. The heat from her anger is so fucking palpable it’s a wonder the car hasn’t caught fire.
Ready to be done with the bullshit of the night, I rub my hands over my tired eyes before I exit the car and lean the seat forward, offering my hand to the girl in the back. I can’t see her from where I’m standing but I hear a soft huff, clearly over all the bullshit as well for tonight, before she hesitantly puts her hand in mine. The flame red hair of her wig greets me when she leans forward, followed by the smooth, creamy skin of her thigh as she steps out of the car.
The very same thighs that were straddled over my lap hours ago. She mumbles a half-assed “thanks” before her eyes meet mine. The moment our gazes clash, it’s like the air has been sucked from my lungs. She’s got the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. A light, piercing green, surrounded by a dark emerald outer ring. Even with her smudged makeup and face painting, she’s absolutely stunning. I knew this even watching her dance from a distance while she was on stage earlier tonight. The room where she danced just for me was too dark to take her in fully, but now, seeing her up close, she’s breathtaking.
“Hi,” The word tumbles out of my mouth like a total dumbass, my hand still gripping hers lightly even though she’s been out of the car long enough for me to let go. “Uh, I’m… Riley.”
The side of her mouth quirks up at my lame-ass and poorly timed introduction, but she drops my hand and crosses her arms. I have to force my eyes to remain on her face as the motion causes her robe to gape open, revealing the crests of her breasts. “Nice to meet you, Riley.” She quips, “Wanna tell me why the fuck I’m here and not back at my place?”
I feel the blood drain from my face and sweat form on the back of my neck, feeling anxious as hell. “Oh my god. I—I am so fucking sorry. Creed really is a good guy, I swear. He’s never done anything like this and he didn’t explain to me why he did this, unfortunately.” She narrows her eyes at me questioningly, but I’m quick to add, “B-but I can call you an Uber or I can even grab my keys and get you where you actually want to go. I swear it.” The word vomit never ends and I want to slap myself for being such a passive fuckhead in this situation. As much as I support Creed in our friendship, I’m pretty sure kidnapping exotic dancers is so far on the other line of immoral things I’d never do in my lifetime that it’s nonexistent.
I need to make this right. Fuck, what the hell was Creed thinking?
Stupid fucker.
Her gaze actually softens a fraction when she senses me starting to panic at our predicament. “Hey, no need to panic, alright? It’s okay.” She runs a hand through her bright red hair. “I mean, it’s not okay what he did, but Creed and I…we actually go way back.”
“Way back,” I parrot slowly, confused if she’s referring to a previous bit of fun she had with Creed, or if she’s maybe even talking about his childhood.
She nods, as if that’s answer enough. “Should we go find Creed? Figure out what the actual hell is going through that thick skull of his? I’ll explain better once we find him and make sure he’s okay.”
Shouldn’t I be the one doing the placating? Or I don’t fucking know… Creed, maybe? At the mention of Creed’s mental state, her entire demeanor shifts from pissed off and fuming, to one of calm. Maybe she really does know Creed more intimately. But still, why the hell would he drag her out of that club and bring her back here like he did?
“This way.” I nod towards the door that leads into the house and usher her in. This girl… I don’t even know her name. We enter the kitchen and I gesture to the stool behind the bar-height countertop at the island. “I’m guessing your real name isn’t Stardust or Star Girl…” she chuckles at my statement as she hoists her short frame up onto the seat.
“No, it’s not. It’s a name I gave myself to keep anonymity at the club.” She says. Her voice is so raspy, like she just spent days screaming at the top of her lungs and lost her voice as a result. But it’s cute. It works for her.
Everything about her works.
I grab three water bottles from the fridge and slide one over to her. “So, are you gonna make me guess what your real name is?” I joke, a smile ghosting my lips at the way her green eyes light up with mischief at the thought.
She shrugs one shoulder, the robe falling away and exposing the smooth, pale, freckled skin there. “Maybe.”
I narrow my eyes at her playfully, pursing my lips in thought. I run a hand through my already messy hair, trying to think of a list of names. “Well, you don’t look like a Tiffany, or a Stephanie, or a Heather…or any typical girly-ass name…No,” I shake my head. “You look like you’ve got a name that’s uniquely you.”
Her eyes widen at my statement, telling me that I’m right. But before I can guess any more names, a loud bang comes from the floor above us. Both of our eyes travel up to the sound and it happens again. I look back to Not-Tiffany and I see nothing but concern on her face.
I clear my throat, bringing her attention back to me. I nod my head to the accordion doors next to the refrigerator. “That’s the pantry, there’s a shit-ton of food and snacks in there and in the fridge. Help yourself to anything you want.” I push off the island and circle around to the entryway that leads to the rest of the house. “I’ll go see what Creed’s up to and we’ll figure this out. Okay?”
She nods, falling quiet again. I don’t like the uncertainty and sadness now rolling off of her, so I add, “Prepare yourself. I’m going to throw names at you until I get it right. You’ll be sick of me by the end of the night.” I throw a wink at her before leaving the room. The quiet tinkling sound of her laugh leaves me feeling a little better as I look for my dumbass housemate.
I take the stairs two at a time when I hear the same thumping sound again. I don’t bother knocking before pushing the door open. I don’t see him immediately but I notice the light to his closet is on and the door is wide open.
I hear a low curse, followed by another thump. I walk into the closet and pause at the sight before me. Creed sits with this back against the dresser with a shoebox sitting in his lap that’s full of colorful pieces of paper. The most painful part of seeing him like this are the unshed tears clinging to Creed’s red-rimmed bright blue eyes when he lifts his crestfallen gaze to mine.
“Creed?” I take a step toward him in the closet, confused as fuck, but also worried because I’ve never seen him so disheveled. “What’s going on?”
He shakes his head vehemently. “I can’t. I won’t do it again, Ri.”
“Won’t do what again? ”
“Leave her .” His voice sounds so pained and it threatens to cleave my heart in two.
He’s finally broken.
As much as it hurts to shatter, I think Creed needed this so he can work on putting himself back together, and I’ll be right here, helping him through it just like he’s helped to pick up my own broken pieces from the moment he met me.
Creed heaves a sharp exhale as he looks down at all the papers in the box. I look down, too, noticing various forms of feminine handwriting scribbled across them.
My eyes catch on an envelope sitting on top. In big blocky kid-like letters with hearts drawn around the name I see; To: Creed St. James, along with an old California address scribbled beneath his name. The upper right corner has a stamp with that familiar red lightning bolt, and in the left corner, a name scrawled— Collins Weston .
Pieces start to click together in my brain as I look back to Creed’s face. When his eyes meet mine again, I know I’m right. “The girl downstairs…is this her?” I gesture to the letters in his lap that he’s clinging to tightly.
I’ve seen him reading these letters throughout the year, but I honestly just assumed he was really dedicated to reading fan mail or something. Now I see they were all from the same person.
He nods wordlessly. “Okay,” I exhale. “Well, the last hour of my life makes a fuck-ton more sense. Jesus, Creed, I thought my best friend was going to serve time for kidnapping some random exotic dancer from a club.” I tease, and by the twitch of his lips, I think it’s helped yank him out of his funk. A little, at least.
“Look, she’s currently downstairs feeling as confused as I am.” I push to stand and offer him my hand. He takes it and turns to set the box on top of the dresser behind him. “I’m sure we’ve all got about a thousand questions for each other, so why don’t you change into clothes that don’t stink like the club and I’ll grab something more comfortable for her than her current…outfit, and we’ll fi gure this shit out while stuffing our faces because I’m fucking starving.”
“Okay, yeah,” he nods, running a tattooed hand over his face, his expression looking more tired than usual. “I’ll meet you down there.”
I leave him to it and go to my room, changing into joggers and a tee in record time, before grabbing a similar set for her— Collins —from the bottom of my closet where I kept a pair of sweats that shrank in the wash. They’ll probably still be huge on her, but they’ll fit better than anything else Creed or I have.
I walk back into the kitchen to see Collins now sitting on the counter next to the fridge, one leg folded beneath the other that hangs down over the edge, eating my favorite bunny tracks ice cream straight out of the tub with a giant spoon. Her eyes lock onto mine and she slowly pulls the spoon from her full lips. I’m heavily regretting my decision to put on these sweats because that small action has my dick threatening to out me for finding her eating ice cream a sexy task.
We just stare at each other for a long moment, probably longer than what’s socially acceptable, but she just takes another unintentionally seductive bite and I swallow, my throat bobbing at the sight.
Oh, fuck. Why is that so fucking hot?
She raises an eyebrow at me in question because, shit , I’m just standing here staring at her. I look away quickly, swiping my water bottle from earlier and taking a swig. Now that my mouth doesn’t feel so damn dry, I clear my throat and step around the island to hold out the stack of clothes I brought down to her. “Here, I grabbed these for you. Figured you might want clothes that are more, um, comfortable.” I feel my face heat when I remember exactly what she’s wearing beneath that silky robe of hers. “Creed should be down any minute, so if you want to go change and clean up before then, the spare bathroom is just through that entryway, first door on the right down the hall.”
She sets the ice cream down and takes the clothes from me. “Thank you.” She sighs. “This outfit is well on its way to cutting off circulation in places I didn’t even think were possible.” She says as she hops off the counter. I’d been too worked up and stressed out earlier to notice just how short she is. The top of her head barely reaches my shoulder.
She leaves the kitchen without another word and I stand there in silence, watching the sway of her hips as she disappears through the doorway. I mentally slap myself and start rummaging through the pantry, loading my arms with all kinds of snacks when I hear the heavier footsteps of Creed enter the kitchen. I turn to see he’s showered and wearing black joggers with a t-shirt slung over his shoulder.
“I’m fucking starving. You hungry for anything in particular, Ri?”
“Anything easy because we have a lot to talk about and I’m too tired to cook for your ass.” I answer.
He chuckles then nods in agreement as he makes his way to the fridge, pulling pizza rolls out of the freezer and dumping nearly the entire bag into the air fryer. He gets it started and turns around, throwing his shirt over his head, covering himself.
“You gonna be okay, man?” I ask when I notice his rigid posture and unfocused stare. “We can just eat and talk in the morning if you’re not in the right mindset.”
“ No ,” he snaps, but then he squeezes his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry. Yes, I’ll be fine. Tonight’s just… been a-fuckin’-lot. A goddamned roller coaster.”
I study him for a moment before nodding in acquiescence. “Alright.”
We didn’t have a chance to move all the food and snacks to the living room before another set of bare feet on the tile has our attention shifting to the entryway of the kitchen once more. Collins walks back in and I freeze, the air in my lungs seizes and my body is suddenly rooted to the spot as I take in the woman standing before me, because?—
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
She’s got to be the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. The red wig is gone and in its place is a head full of blonde hair so light it looks to be nearly white, the pale color damn near looks like freshly fallen snow, so beautiful resting against her porcelain skin that I’m inclined to think that it’s a natural color and not bleached. It’s hanging in loose, messy waves around her shoulders. Her face has been washed free of all makeup and paint, leaving behind flawless skin and a smattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose and some along her forehead, mirroring my own but I’ll argue until the day I die that hers are absolutely cuter than mine. The light green of her irises stands out even more against her dark lashes without the makeup. Maybe it’s because of how much rounder her eyes look without all of that makeup distracting from one of her most stunning features.
She’s also wearing a sparkly hoop through her septum. She’s also got the most prominent lips I’ve ever seen. A full bottom lip and the upper has a cute pointed cupid’s bow with the perfect pout. I fight a shiver when I remember the feel of her lips brushing my ear as she talked me through the dance she gave me earlier tonight.
The sweats I gave her have been rolled at the ankles but still brush the ground because Collins is a petite little shorty.
She’s fucking perfect.
Collins Weston is a wet dream come true. And the fucking cherry of the cake? She’s wearing my goddamned clothes and that does something to me. It shouldn’t, I freaking know it shouldn’t, but it does.
“Feel a little better, Stardust ?” Creed asks her, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest. I find it odd that he’s still using her stage name, but she doesn’t seem affected by it, so I make a mental note to ask Creed about it later.
“Yeah,” is all she says, her eyes lingering on Creed. She opens her mouth like she wants to say something else to him, but she snaps it shut before turning to me, a small smile curling her lips as she tucks an ivory strand behind her ear. “Thank you for these.” She tugs at the shirt and I have to work really fucking hard to not look down at the bare, uncovered nipples I caught a flash of beneath the fabric when it settled back against her chest. “I feel a little more human now.” Her smile widens a bit.
Look, I respect women. I respect their boundaries. Their bodies, and their privacy.
But I’m also a dude who gets hard at the sight of a great set of tits.
And Collins? She’s got the best.
“No problem.” I look between her and Creed, the tension in the room growing so thick you could cut it with a knife. “Well, I don’t know about you two, but I’m fucking starving and utterly confused as to how the hell we ended up here tonight. So why don’t we sit down and figure some shit out, yeah?”
“Yeah, I’ll meet you in the living room once I plate these real quick.”
I nod at him before turning my attention back to Collins. She doesn’t know I know her name now, so to ease the atmosphere surrounding her, I return to the little game I promised her I’d play. “Come on, Arabella, follow me.” I wink at her.
She scrunches her nose in the most adorable way at the name I spat, before leading her through the entryway and into the living area. “Really? Do I look like an Arabella to you?” she quips, a raspy laugh following her question.
I plop down on the L -shaped couch as she takes the oversized recliner next to it. I narrow my eyes, pretending to study her. “Nah, you look like you’ve got a cooler name than that. More unique.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yup.” I say, popping the ‘p’.
“And what might that be?”
“Memphis.”
“Memphis?”
“Dallas?”
“What?”
“Kissimmee. ”
“Wha—are you just naming random cities now?” she laughs and it’s music to my ears. I don’t even know this girl, but what I do know right now is that I want to make her do that again.
Unfortunately, I don’t get to pretend guess anymore though because Creed comes in with his arms loaded with the pizza rolls and a shit ton of other snacks that I completely forgot about when Collins reemerged, including the ice cream that Collins was unknowingly seducing me with earlier. He lays them all out on the coffee table in front of us. “Dig in, guys.”
Quietly we all load our plates, taking a few bites before Collins speaks first, pulling no punches. “Creed, want to tell me why the hell you kidnapped me tonight?”
“Wait, wait, wait,” I interject, raising my hands, mentally pumping the breaks on the steep nosedive her question just took. “First, can I ask how you two know each other?” I already have some idea based on my brief interaction with Creed earlier, but I’m gonna need more than that. They both just stare at me, then each other as if silently debating who was going to tell the story. I look at Collins, but she bites her lip before staring down at the pizza rolls like they’re more interesting than what’s happening right now.
So I turn my head to the only other person in the room. “Creed?”
He takes a long gulp of water before his tongue skirts out along his bottom lip, chasing the wetness lingering there. He purses his lips and exhales as he leans back into the couch. “I’ve known Collins since the day she was born. Do you remember my friend, Asher, that I talk to on occasion?”
“Good to know he’s alive and talking to someone . Fucking asshole.” I hear Collins mutter under her breath so quietly I don’t think Creed hears it from across the room.
“She’s his little sister.” He finishes. “We were both nine when she was born, but he and I practically raised her from the time we were teens until we graduated high school.”
I file away the fact that he said that he helped to raise her along with Asher. I want to ask about their childhood and why they did what he said they did, but that’s not important to what we’re discussing right now, I don’t think.
“Okay,” I say slowly, “So how does that lead up to what happened tonight? Didn’t you keep in contact over the years?” I ask, remembering Creed looking absolutely devastated when he said he won’t leave her again . Obviously I’ve never met her before tonight so I figure he hasn’t seen her in a good long while.
Collins speaks up this time, twirling a small strand of her snowy hair between her fingertips. “My parents were shit, and Creed and Ash were very…protective of me when I was little. They never left me alone if they could help it.”
An odd feeling settles over me as I watch her gaze go a little vacant, suddenly becoming lost in a memory. “Creed stepped up without question to become another pillar in my life alongside Asher. My parents sucked at being parents, but that’s a story for another day.” She chuckles, but there’s no humor behind it. She takes a bite of ice cream and nods at Creed. “They’re the ones who took me to the urgent care when I would get hurt playing outside, even though there was nothing a band aid couldn’t fix. But they really doubled down on protecting me after they came home from camp and I was so sick with no voice to tell them what was wrong. I was diagnosed with severe laryngitis and it had gone untreated for so long and I coughed so much that I’d developed vocal fold polyps.”
I’d heard about those before. Polyps can destroy someone’s vocal cords, affecting the control over clarity, tone, pitch, or vibrato of their voice.
My attention never leaves Collins’ as she looks at Creed with a moment of adoration before looking at me to continue her story. “The boys hounded the doctors and insisted I have the surgery, despite not having insurance, but because of that same reason, I couldn’t do the physical therapy. Those two worked their asses off that summer to make sure that my hospital bill was paid.” A small, perfect smile graces her full lips. “They mowed every lawn, pulled weeds, washed cars and houses, walked dogs, cleaned up trash… th ey did it all and I don’t think our dumpy old neighborhood ever looked as good as it did that summer.”
“It was worth it.” I heard Creed whisper, like he was only talking to himself.
“So that’s how I sound like I do. It also left me with the inability to yell or scream for help if I needed it. That’s why they started taking me everywhere with them. Even wild high school parties.” She sends a teasing glare Creed’s way and he actually winces at the words thrown at him, rubbing the back of his neck, looking more guilty than amused.
“Yeah, those were more Asher’s doing. Probably not the greatest idea.”
“Probably not?”
“Definitely not.”
“Okay,” I interrupt, “So I know now that you two grew up close. What happened?” I turn to Creed. “You’ve kept your private life fairly private, and I’ve heard you mention Asher before, but I don’t recall you ever mentioning her.” I nod toward Collins.
Out of the corner of my eye I see Collins swallow before looking away, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. Creed’s face is now fully portraying every ugly emotion he’s feeling over what I just said.
They both sit there quietly for a moment before a quiet sob bursts from Collins. Before I can blink, Creed is across the room, kneeling before her and cupping her face in his hands.
I can’t see his face now, but I hear him speak quietly. “Hey, Stardust , look at me, please.”
She shakes her head in his grip but instead of letting her go, he swipes at her tears with his thumbs. I just sit there, quietly observing but also wondering if I need to leave to give them some privacy to work their shit out before finishing their history. It’s clear they know each other and are no threat to one another. Not anymore at least.
Pushing to stand, I grab the plate of snacks and head for the stairs. Both of them turn to look at me, confused. “I’m going to head to bed. Tonight has been…a lot for everyone. Now that I know you tw o know each other and Creed hasn’t lost his fucking mind, we can talk about this in the morning, yeah? I think you two need to work some things out and we can go from there.”
Both nod wordlessly, so I offer a brief wave before trudging up toward my room, calling out over my shoulder before rounding the corner, “Oh, and it was nice to meet you, Collins.”
Her shocked gasp could be heard all the way from my room, making me chuckle before kicking my door shut behind me.