Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
River
I wasn’t joking when I said I needed to make sure she can’t run when we talk. I can’t say I’d blame her if she did try, I’ve done nothing to deserve even an ounce of decency from her.
Over the years, I’d convinced myself that I wasn’t allowed her, that she was off-limits, forbidden; but she’s not.
My mom and Richard are happy and secure in their relationship, and me being in love with Ava doesn’t affect them, at least that’s what I’m hoping.
Even if us being together does cause an issue, it won’t be enough to come between the two of them.
I can make Ava happy, and I’ll love her like no one else ever could.
I just need to convince her of that before I can show them.
We’re staying at a little vineyard in Temecula for two nights and I picked her up about a half hour ago. Apart from a brief “Hi,” she’s not said a word to me, but that’s not how this is going to go.
Guess I’m starting this conversation now, because I’m not sitting in silence for the next hour.
“The first thing you need to know, and it’s going to be hard to believe, is that I’ve never hated you. Not once.“ She startles as my voice breaks through the silence, and her head whips to face me, her eyes widening as my words register.
“You put laxatives in my drink,” she hisses through clenched teeth. “I barely made it to the toilet in time and had to leave my prom before it even began. And that’s just one example.”
“If I told you doing that hurt me as much as you, if not more, would you believe me?”
“No,” she scoffs.
“Well, it did. Seeing you like that and knowing I couldn’t hold you, couldn’t help you, that I had to keep my mask on. Pipsqueak, it gutted me.”
“Then why do it? And what mask? What are you talking about?”
“Okay, firstly, I did it because I couldn’t have you sleeping with that tool you were dating at the time. I can’t remember his name, I just know he wasn’t getting your virginity that night or any night after.”
“That wasn’t your choice to make!” she splutters. “And laxatives? Really? That was just cruel, River.”
“It’s all I had to hand. I panicked and it’s the first thing I saw that would end the night without you and him fucking.”
“That’s fucked up,” she grates.
“Maybe.” I shrug. “But it worked, and for that I can’t fully regret it.”
“What about everything else? And the mask, what do you mean?”
“I needed you to hate me, needed to push you away, because from the moment I walked through that front door five years ago to see you come bounding down the stairs, I fell. I fell so fucking hard and fast for you. But it was so wrong. You were my new stepsister, you were seventeen years old, and you were so off-limits it wasn’t even funny.
” I pull my eyes away from the road for a second and glance her way.
“Wanting you risked everything.” I turn back to the road but continue talking.
“My mom was finally happy; she wasn’t doing things alone anymore and I couldn’t put that at risk.
What do you think your father would have done if the second I walked through the door I claimed his daughter?
His only child? Not to mention the fact you were underage. ”
“I had no idea,” she breathes.
“I made sure you didn’t. I made you hate me, because if you showed me any affection, if I got anything from you other than hatred, my resolve would have shattered, and that wasn’t a possibility.”
“Why now?” She’s turned in her seat to face me, her leg tucked under her.
“That damn meal at the restaurant. You fucking flirted with me, every moment since then you’ve tested me.”
“I was just playing with you, trying to get a rise from you like you’ve always done to me.”
“Yeah, well it worked,” I sigh.
“Not in the way I thought it would, though,” she mumbles. “What’s changed? What makes this okay now?”
“You mean aside from the fact I can legally fuck you?” She just glares at me, and I can’t help the chuckle that leaves me despite the seriousness of this conversation.
“I’m done fighting with you. I’m done being the one to put that look of hurt on your face when it’s the last thing I want to see. I’m done pretending you’re not mine.”
“I’m not yours, River,” she asserts.
“You will be.” My words are serious. She needs to accept us, because there’s not a chance in hell I’m letting her go.
Ava
The vineyard is beautiful: small, exclusive and so pretty I’m not sure I’ll ever want to leave. That is, as long as River doesn’t do another one-eighty on me and turn back into an all-year-round Grinch.
His words from the car journey here are playing on my mind as I stand on the balcony while River takes a call.
I’m not sure how I feel about him calling me ‘his’.
Part of me doesn’t want to belong to anyone; I’m not a possession, I’m a modern working woman.
But then there’s a whole other part of me that heats at the idea of belonging to him, to be his to claim and fuck.
Just thinking about it now and I can feel my pulse race and my panties dampen.
I pop another grape into my mouth. The hosts left a beautiful bottle of wine in the room on arrival, along with a cheeseboard and grapes, which I’ve slowly been making my way through.
I turn my back on the view and lean against the balcony facing inwards, so I can see River pacing back and forth as he carries on his conversation.
He really is ridiculously good looking. His hand comes up to rake through his thick dark hair and his green eyes flash with irritation at whatever is being said on the other end of the line.
His gaze turns to me and his eyes soften, his body relaxing at the sight of me.
His eyes darken, however, when I lift a grape to my lips and suck it into my mouth, slowly and suggestively chewing.
I can’t hear him speak, but I can make out his lips saying the words, “I need to go. Get it sorted.” He hangs up the cell phone and throws it on the bed as he stalks towards me and opens the balcony doors.
He stops in the doorway, his shoulder propped against the frame as he stares at me.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous. I don’t think I’ll ever forget this moment; you standing here, your red hair on fire as the sun sets behind you.”
I feel my body warm at his words, but I still can’t fully accept them. Part of me still doesn’t believe this is real and that he’s not just playing a role in his ultimate betrayal.
“You still don’t believe me, do you?”
“Can you blame me?” I whisper the words, but he hears them.
“No, baby I can’t. But you also can’t tell me you haven’t thought about this over the years. Even with the hate, with everything we did to each other, it’s always been you and me.”
In some ways he’s right. It has always been him, and maybe that’s why my hate has always been so strong, because underneath it all I’ve always wanted him.