Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
JESSICA
“Hold it steady,” Kane says from the passenger seat.
My hands tighten on the wheel, but I don’t let myself look at him. The engine screams beneath us and the track blurs at the edges as the finish line rushes closer. I think I’m in with a shot to beat my record this time.
I’m almost giddy with excitement.
“Wait. Don’t ease off yet,” Kane says.
Every nerve in my body tells me we’re driving too fast, but I keep my foot down. The speed is insane.
My eyes threatened to pop out of my skull the last time I looked at the speedometer. It’s no wonder my brother loves to race.
Seconds later, the car tears over the line and Kane squeezes my thigh, which only fuels the rush in my veins.
“The adrenaline is pretty wild, right?” Kane asks as I circle back around to the starting line.
We’ve snuck away to Dark Lanes again.
Kane is teaching me to race. He’s actually a good teacher, even if it’s distracting at times when he puts his hand on my thigh or finds some other excuse to touch me.
Sometimes, it’s as if he can’t help himself. Not that I’m complaining.
“Yeah, wild is one word for it,” I answer as I put the car in park, but the words die in my throat when Kane strokes my hair behind my ear and lingers with his touch.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he whispers in awe.
My throat tightens, and despite sneaking away from his father’s men to steal moments whenever we can, I still feel nervous when he looks at me like he is now.
“Kane…” I don’t even know what to say. I just know my heart is kicking hard, and he’s gently stroking his thumb over my cheekbone as if I’m somehow special to him. I want to believe it, but I’m scared to let myself be that vulnerable with Kane.
Rain patters on the roof as rivulets race down the windshield. The air carries that fresh rain scent mixed with Kane’s cologne.
“Finish your sentence,” he says gently.
We lock eyes and he traces the backs of his fingers down the curve of my neck, a touch that’s feather-light but burns through me with each gentle brush of skin on mine. I’m in love with him, and honestly, it’s terrifying.
I clear my throat. “Do you ever feel like this is the calm before the storm?”
Kane’s touch lingers on my skin, and I blush as I say, “Sometimes I think we’re a house of cards.”
“You’re scared,” he replies.
More so than he’ll ever realize.
I lean in to kiss his palm. “You’re not?”
“I won’t let anyone hurt you.” The conviction in his voice does dangerous things to my heart.
“You’re deflecting.”
“Baby…” He cups my chin. “You don’t have to be scared.”
I want to believe him. God, I want to believe him more than anything, but it’s not that simple. Nothing ever is.
“My mom is dying,” I point out, “and what about your father’s men? We can’t hide forever. All of this… everything will come crashing down sooner or later.”
“You’re right.” He reaches for my hand. “It will.”
My lips twitch. “You’re not helping.”
I thought maybe he would say something reassuring instead of just agreeing, but a small part of me appreciates his honesty. Kane kisses my knuckles, and I hold my breath as relentless rain pounds harder on the roof.
“I don’t want to make false promises,” he murmurs, turning my hand and pressing a kiss to the inside of my wrist. His warm breath dances across my pulse point, and my heart quickens.
“Maybe I want you to lie to me,” I say quietly.
His eyes glitter in the dark. “No, you don’t.” Another soft, lingering kiss, and he says, “No more lies between us.”
In a quick move, he exits the car and jogs around to my side, opening the door.
When he ducks back in to turn on some music, I press against the seat to make room for him, his dark hair wet from the rain.
Part of me is surprised when ‘Levitate’ by Sleep Token plays through the speakers, but another part, the part that trembles when Kane relaxes and looks at me, really isn’t surprised that he’s played a song I listened to in the shower the other day while he was shaving in the bathroom mirror.
“Come on,” he says with an infectious grin. “Let’s make the most of the rain.”
Unbuckling my belt, he holds out his hand for me to take. “Dance with me.”
He wants to dance? Here?
Surprised, I glance from his outstretched palm to his face.
He waits patiently for me to place my hand in his.
When I finally do, he pulls me into the pouring rain and presses me against his hard body.
Water soaks through our clothes, but it isn’t cold.
Not even close. I wouldn’t notice anyway, not with the way Kane is looking at me, and certainly not with the steady pound of his heart against my chest.
He spins me under the downpour, then reels me back in, and we sway to the lyrics that faintly bleed through the rain against the blacktop.
The yellow headlights cast shadows across his face, while rain clings to the tips of his hair like dew drops.
He’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.
My fingers tremble against his muscular arms, his shirt slick beneath my hands.
“Have I told you lately that you make the ground fall away beneath my feet every time you look at me?” His forehead rests against mine.
A second later, his mouth finds mine, rain-slick and hungry with desire.
The moment he tastes me, he dips me toward the pavement, and laughter bursts from my lips as I cling to his wet shoulders.
“Don’t drop me, Kane.”
“I’ll never drop you.” He grins and spins us again until my laughter turns breathless. Then he picks me up by the waist, guiding my legs around his waist. “If we fall, we fall together.”
He sets me down on the hood of his Bugatti and claims my mouth with his.
My head is still spinning.
We’re at the top of the rollercoaster, seconds away from the drop that will either ruin us or leave us hooked on the fall.
Hell, who are we kidding? We’ve been on this ride before, and let me tell you, it’s a rush like nothing else.
His wet shirt clings to his skin, and we peel it off before tossing it aside.
My underwear is next, lace catching on damp skin as he strips us both bare.
Then he spreads me wide with his hands at my knees, and a rush of excitement zips down my spine as he pulls me closer.
God, I’m so ready for him.
“Hold on to me, little thief,” he says, and then takes me right there at the finish line of Dark Lanes.
“Where the hell have you been?” Chris asks with a scowl the moment I walk into the house.
Here we go again.
“Out.”
“Out where?”
“Out with friends.”
Chris follows me into the kitchen. “What friends?”
“Why is it any of your business?” I ask, pulling open the fridge. My hair and clothes are still wet. I need a shower.
Chris slams it shut. “What friends?”
“Rain, okay? I was out with Rain. Happy?”
“Rain? Really?”
I try to open the fridge again. He refuses to move, his hand pressed against it.
“That’s funny, because Rain called me asking for you.”
Damn it, Rain. I forgot my phone at home. Such a stupid rookie mistake. But it wasn’t exactly a priority for me to check my notifications while I was out with Kane. Not when we were busy doing other… things.
Chris starts to say something else, but I’m only half listening, still tingling from the mind-blowing orgasm I had on his hood. It was hot as hell to be out in the open. I didn’t think I’d be into stuff like that, but the idea of someone seeing us did things to me.
And although this is probably the worst time to be thinking about Kane pounding me on his car, in the rain, while we were wet and naked, I can’t help myself. I want to do it again.
The words die on Chris’s lips, and a dark shadow flickers across his face as he shifts my wet hair aside, tilting my neck for a better view. His touch is rough, and I wince at the sting of pain.
“I should have fucking known you’d crawl back to him.”
I look away, but he slams his palm against the fridge behind me, causing me to jump and almost whimper.
I’ve seen my brother angry plenty of times, but this is the first time I feel a frisson of fear.
He’d never hurt me, I know that, but the same can’t be said for Kane.
I don’t trust my brother not to go after him on some weird quest for revenge.
Chris grabs my throat, as if he can’t help himself, and no matter how much I tell myself that he won’t hurt me, I see so much of Dad in him when he gets like this.
His chin dips toward his chest, and after a few shaky breaths, he looks at his hand on my throat.
Shame and regret battle with anger.
“Chris?” Summer asks, her voice trembling. She stands in the doorway, shifting uncertainly on her feet and holding her empty water bottle.
Chris flexes his fingers on my throat, and I briefly wonder if he’ll do this while she’s in the room. It’s not the first time we’ve had a screaming match; in fact, it’s becoming a somewhat daily occurrence. But then he lets go, as if burned.
There’s more he wants to say, but he knows he’s gone too far. Instead, he cracks his neck and says, “You give me no other choice.”
What? No other choice?
“Chris?” I ask, a little panicked, as he leaves the kitchen, pushing our sister out of the way. “Chris!”
What did he mean by that? Gave him no choice? What is he going to do?
I run after him, but he’s already gone, turning the ignition and driving away past the silver car farther down the road.
Dammit. He’s going to act recklessly. I know he will. He never thinks things through.
My phone is on the counter when I get back to the kitchen, and I pace while I dial Jackson’s number, biting my nails nervously. This shouldn’t be happening. Jackson is the only one who can talk some sense into him.
He answers on the fourth ring, his deep voice amused. “If it ain’t my favorite girl. What’s up?”
Before I can respond, there’s a muffled noise in the background.
Jackson covers the receiver with his hand. I hear him speak to someone, but I can’t make out what they’re saying.
Then he’s back on the line, chuckling under his breath. “Sorry about that. What’s up, princess?”
I almost ask him if this is a bad time, but then I remember that my brother is angry, and God only knows what he’s capable of.
“Chris may or may not be on his way to you,” I say with a sigh. This is all my fault. I should have been more careful.
There’s a flurry of movement and suspicious noises in the background—whisper-hissing followed by muffled laughter. Jackson shuffles around. Clothes rustle in the line.
“Jackson?” I ask as Summer leans against the doorway with a solemn expression.
“I’m here,” he rasps, belt clanking.
Yeah. He’s definitely got some poor girl over.
“Did you hear me?”
“Your brother might be coming here.”
“He’s angry.”
“When is he not angry? Look, I’ll talk to him, but it might help to have a bit of a heads-up. What did you do this time?”
I rub my face. “It doesn’t matter. He’s just angry, and you know he’s not thinking straight with everything that’s going on with Mom. Don’t let him do anything reckless.”
“Let me guess? Kane Ravencourt?”
“He told you?”
Of course he did. Jackson is one of his closest friends.
They don’t keep secrets from each other.
He could have told Malice, and he probably did, but he’s not the kind of guy you go to for advice.
Besides, Malice probably would have walked out anyway.
I’ve seen him do that to people who talk his ear off.
“Want my advice?” he says instead of answering my question.
“Not really.”
“Well, you’re gonna get it anyway.” A door opens and closes. “Chris is never gonna let you see Kane. The guy is an entitled prick anyway, and I’m not sure I should stop your brother from beating the living crap out of him. I might even help out.”
“Jackson,” I snap, turning away from my sister. “This isn’t a joke.”
“No, it’s not. And if you believe your brother listens to anything I say where you’re concerned, you don’t know him as well as you think.”
He hangs up, and I almost crush the phone in my hand. It’s not Kane I’m worried about, though.
Not really.
“I’m worried about Chris,” Summer says as she walks closer, echoing my thoughts. “I thought he was going to hurt you.”
“He won’t hurt us,” I say.
He wouldn’t… he loves us. We’re his family.
“I’m not so sure anymore. He’s not himself lately.”
“Are any of us?” I lower myself into the nearest chair, and Summer empties the bucket collecting rainwater into the sink.
“I think he needs to talk to someone,” she says after she’s done.
“What do you mean? Like a therapist?”
She sits beside me. “He won’t talk to us. He’s too proud.”
“We can’t afford a therapist, Summer. You know that.”
“Maybe not now, but after Mom is…”
Gone. Why is it so hard to breathe all of a sudden?
A suffocating weight presses down on my chest.
Just then, the front door swings open unexpectedly, and Dad crashes into the doorframe, muttering to himself.
He sees us at the table and hiccups.
“Hi g-girls.”
We watch him stumble toward the couch and flop down. Seconds later, he’s snoring like he’s sawing logs.
Seriously? We haven’t seen him in days, and now he’s turning up drunk?
Rage burns like a blazing fire across my skin, but it shifts the moment Summer rests her head on my shoulder.
It’s impossible to stay mad when she’s leaning on me for emotional support. Whatever I feel, whatever shit I’m dealing with, has to take a back seat. My sister is more important.
“Wanna do a sleepover at the hospice?” she asks softly. Dad’s deep snores are loud enough to rattle the walls.
Not only does he come home drunk, but he also drools on Mom’s favorite scatter cushion. It’s lucky my sister emptied the bucket, or I might have dumped it on him.
Yeah… I need to get out of here before I lose it and throttle the old man.
“I’d love that,” I say, resting my chin on the top of her head. Who knows how many of these moments we have left? It’s not many. “Let’s go see Mom.”