Deliver Us (The Sinful Duet Book 2)

by Skyla Madi

  Deliver Us

  The Sinful Duet, Book 2

  S K Y L A M A D I

  Deliver Us

  Copyright © 2019 by Skyla Madi

  All rights reserved.

  First Print Edition: January 2019

  Limitless Publishing, LLC

  Kailua, HI 96734

  www.limitlesspublishing.com

  Formatting: Limitless Publishing

  ISBN-13: 978-

  ISBN-10:

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  C A L E B

  Weeks ago

  I hate New York, that’s the truth, but I’ll follow Cassia to the gates of hell if I have to.

  I sit under the large, open window, my back against the brick wall of my new apartment, breathing in the fumes of New York, clenching the neck of a bottle of beer in my hand. My apartment is flooded with people, and my head throbs with every pounding beat of this stupid fucking song.

  I told myself I’d never move to the city, cities make me anxious, but here I am.

  It was hard leaving Paradise Valley and the comfort of my sister, Penelope, who I thought was gone forever, but every day I’ve spent without Cassia has been torture. I can’t rest. Can’t think straight. When everyone else in the town is asleep in their beds, I sit awake in my bathroom, running the tip of my finger along the edge of a covered razor, contemplating relieving some of the pressure her absence triggers in me. I promised her I wouldn’t cut again, but when I made that promise, I didn’t anticipate living without her.

  I shouldn’t complain. My life is good. I have my sister back, my father isn’t as mad at me anymore, and with Agnes’s encouragement, I’ve taken up painting to express myself instead of my usual method. But they don’t see what I see in my head. They don’t feel what I feel. I didn’t realize how good a buffer Cassia was until she left. When she was around, it was easy to focus all my attention on her. I couldn’t fight it. Her beauty demanded it. Without her, I can’t escape the mental trauma of seeing my mother’s lifeless body, of slipping in her blood.

  “Hey!”

  I lift my head, pulled by a husky, female voice, and stare up at the wild, green-eyed girl in front of me. She flicks her tongue over her lip piercing and tightens her long, black ponytail.

  “Wanna fuck?”

  I simper. It’s always too easy. Cassia is the only girl in my life I’ve had to work harder for, the only girl I’ve wanted to work hard for, and what I got when I finally had her was worth every second I went without sex.

  I shake my head and down a mouthful of beer. “Nah.”

  Frowning, the girl—probably a little older than me—flicks her ridiculous black tulle skirt and storms away, letting me fall back into my train of thought, a hard place to escape when I’m five beers and two shots of whiskey in.

  My whole life I blamed myself for letting the red-haired man steal Penelope from my arms, for accepting Mom’s rosary beads right before she slit her wrists. She did it all to avoid telling my father she cheated on him and birthed another man’s baby—a fucking criminal biker’s baby—and passed Penelope off as Dad’s. Mom left me in agony, and Cassia was the balm that soothed me.

  Fixed me.

  And I just…I let her go.

  My father thinks Cassia was a meaningless fling to punish him, a sinful waste of time that ruined his relationship with Marcus and Linda Claire. I’d deny it, but I don’t have Cassia on my arm to prove I’m head over heels in love with her, so I ignore it. No point fighting for something that’s no longer.

  I don’t speak to anyone about Cassia—except Agnes. Agnes understands me. She’s the reason I haven’t cut my flesh to purge the sad thoughts of Cassia that plague me. She said it breaks her heart and, fuck, Agnes has the biggest heart of all. Cares more about me than herself, she does. She’s the reason I left Paradise Valley for New York City to bring the love of my life back in the first place. Agnes is sick. Real sick. It’s her wish I marry the girl of my dreams before she passes and, God knows, I’m going to try my damn hardest to do it for her.

  The music pauses as the song is changed, and in the split second of silence, I hear a dull thud outside my window, and it pulls me from my thoughts. My heart races and my palms grow clammy at the thought of Cassia being out there, being so close to me for the first time in a long time.

  It took me well over a year to get a place in the same apartment building as Cass. I was happy to get any apartment on this floor, but to score the one right next door to her is incredible.

  It’s almost as if someone is looking out for me, or so I’d think if I believed in any kind of higher power.

  I push myself to my feet and peer out the window. My heart stops dead in my chest at the sight of her on all fours, snatching a beer can out of her potted plant. I swallow hard, but my mouth is dry. Her long, wavy blonde hair gradients into a light pink and cascades over her shoulders, touching the metal grating below. Her shirt rises, showcasing her milky skin, and my top lip twitches as the memory of what her flesh feels like, what it tastes like, assaults my brain. Before I can register it, I’ve climbed out my window and I’m standing on the same landing she is. From this angle, I notice black ink on her hip, a string of words I can’t decipher from this distance. Cassia got a tattoo?

  “That’s new,” I say before I can stop myself, and I bite back the urge to ask her if she’s got a clit piercing to match.

  Cassia’s entire body tightens, and thrill ignites in my blood at the fact she recognizes my voice.

  She tosses the empty can over the railing and lifts herself to her feet. The freezing air stabs through my sweater and jeans with every whip of wind, but I endure it without complaint just to look at her. With slow, shaking hands, she tugs her shirt down, and I see her shoulders broaden as she sucks in an inhale and finally turns around.

  When her eyes meet mine, it takes everything I have in me not to fall to my knees and beg for her forgiveness, but as tears well in her angry eyes, I know it’s not going to be that easy. She hates me…and it rips at my fucking heart.

  She parts her gorgeous plump lips. “I…I…”

  I swallow my disappointment as she purses them again, raking her gaze over me from head to toe. I’m immediately unnerved by her judgmental stare. She looks at me like…like I’m disgusting.

  “When you move to New York, you gotta get a tattoo, right?” I ask, desperate to crack the ice building between us.

  She reaches out with a slender han
d and grips the railing. I knew she’d be upset with me when she saw me again. I knew it’d take a while for her to warm up to me. I just need to streamline the process by being the same sarcastic, snarky asshole she fell in love with. That has to work.

  “How…?”

  “I live next door,” I point out, grinning. “What a coincidence.”

  She’s not happy about it. Not one bit. I feel my grin fade into a smaller smile. I want to be sincere, but sarcastic, crude arrogance is my crutch when speaking vulnerably scares me. I slide my teeth together, swallowing my crass humor.

  “It’s good to see you, Cass.”

  She grits her teeth, and my body tightens as she launches forward and slaps the beer from my hand. I watch it fall and hit the landing, the glass chipping on impact. Beer shoots against my shoes before the bottle rolls off the edge. I press my tongue against the roof of my mouth to quell the frustration swirling inside me. My heart thunders in my ears, and I lift my gaze to hers. Below us, the glass smashes against the concrete.

  “You sent me a text,” she hisses through clenched teeth. “A fucking text message!”

  The pain in her voice punches me in the gut, and my eyes twitch against a frown. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her, but my dead sister came back. My world was turned upside down. I couldn’t leave. I step closer to Cassia. Her fat lower lip quivers, and she tenses, cautious of my approach. She smells clean and soapy, the light scent of a strawberry shampoo hanging in the air. I want to kiss her, to feel her under my hands for the first time in too fucking long. I ball my hands at my side, fighting the urge to pull her in to me.

  “I know and I’m so—”

  “Sia?”

  I freeze at the male voice coming from inside her apartment. Sia? A head pokes out of her window, and I drag my eyes to it—to him. Jealousy flares, shooting icicles of hatred and anger into my bones. Who the fuck is he? Why is he in her apartment?

  “There you are.” His dark brown eyes settle on me, and I cut my eyes at him as he curiously tilts his head. “Who’s this?”

  “This is, uh, this is Caleb. He’s our new neighbor.”

  I flinch and force my attention to her. Our new neighbor? Really? A strange pain bursts through my chest and my ribcage, sending sharp shards of dejection spiraling into the pit of my stomach. Then she has the nerve to scowl at me, like me being here is wrong…

  …like I’m the last person in the world she wants to see.

  I don’t realize he’s climbed out the window to stand beside Cassia until he wraps one arm around her slender shoulder and sticks a hand in my direction. They’re together? She’s with him?

  “Nice to meet you, Caleb. I’m Nick.”

  I look at his hand, then give him an overt once over. How old is this guy? Thirty? Forty? I’m taller than him, but he’s wider—more fat than muscle—and I’m better looking. Much better looking.

  I hate him.

  I laugh, and Cassia sucks air between her teeth. Though all my attention is on Nick, I can feel her glare burning holes in my skin.

  “Nick?”

  Frowning, Dick pulls his hand back. “Yeah…Nick. Hey, listen, you mind turning the music down a little? We’re about to put on a movie, and I hate using subtitles.”

  I glance at his hand as he rubs at Cassia’s bicep, hugging her tight under his arm to keep her warm. I clench and unclench my fists at my side. I want to punch him for touching her. I want to pick him up and throw him the fuck over the edge, but I keep my hands to myself and my mouth shut. The last thing I need is for Cassia to hate me even more.

  “You want me to turn my music down?”

  “Yeah.”

  Dick smiles at me, and it pries its way under my skin. There’s something about him I don’t like. Something that rubs me the wrong way.

  “Not a chance.” I pin Cassia with a glare. If she thinks having Dick on her side is going to scare me off, she’s out of her head. I’ll gladly pull her out from underneath him without a second thought, without a hint of guilt. She’s mine. “Enjoy your movie, Sia.”

  It takes everything I have in me to turn away from them, knowing they’re going to go inside and watch a movie together. Probably get intimate with each other too. I storm toward my window and slip inside, slamming it shut behind me. She’s way too pretty for him, way too free spirited and…and mine!

  I stalk through the throng of sweaty people and grab another beer out of a cooler overflowing with ice. I twist the lid off and slam half of it back in two large gulps, desperate to take my mind off her and the probability of him putting his hands on her tonight.

  A distinct laugh draws my attention, and I peer across the kitchen to the girl with the long, black ponytail. She chats away with her friend, tapping her long, manicured fingers against her shoulder. I look away, unable to stomach the thought of touching her…but then I think of Cassia and who she’s been with. Nick. I bare my teeth with a grimace.

  “You.” I point at the girl with the long black ponytail, and she looks at me, her dark eyes flaring, a small smile playing on her thin lips. “Come here.”

  Waltzing away from her friends, she saunters toward me, swaying her wide hips. She stops a few inches from me and peers up at me through her long, fake lashes.

  “Still wanna fuck?” I ask her, hating that my voice sounds angry and hurt.

  Smirking, she leans forward and presses her palm against my crotch, against my soft dick. It doesn’t twitch under her touch or harden. It doesn’t do anything, and that pisses me off even more. With her other hand, she takes my beer, finishes it off, and places the empty bottle on the counter.

  I snatch the girl’s hand from my junk and drag her through the throng of people, storming hastily toward my bedroom. I throw the door open with a growl in my chest, happy to find it empty, and tug her inside. Whipping around, I shove her against the door by her shoulders, and it slams shut as she crashes against it with a wicked chuckle. I press my body to hers, and she tilts her chin, her mouth seeking mine.

  I glance at her lips. They’re the wrong shape. The wrong shade. I pull away from her. “You don’t get to kiss me.”

  Her mouth quirks at one corner, her black eyes dancing with excitement. “Suit yourself.”

  I crane my neck, lowering my mouth to her neck. She turns her head, giving me better access to her smooth flesh, and I pause. I wait for excitement to rush me, for blood to pool where it should be pooling.

  It doesn’t.

  I wait another heartbeat, and nothing changes.

  “What is it?” she whispers breathlessly, and I pull away from her.

  “Give me a second.”

  I turn away and stomp into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. Gritting my teeth, I lean over the white porcelain basin and stare down the drain before lifting my gaze to the mirror. My skin is flushed, my eyes tired from the alcohol. A clammy sweat has formed on my forehead, and thin locks of my spiky blond hair sticks to it.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I whisper to myself.

  Why the hell did I quit my job and leave my sister? Why the hell am I in New York? Why the hell can’t I get hard over the hot girl in my room when Cassia is next door doing God knows what with Nick the Dick?

  Images of his mouth on hers assault me. I groan loudly and turn on the cold-water tap. I squeeze my eyes shut, but it doesn’t stop images of him pressing kisses lower and lower until he devours her between her legs. My stomach rolls with disgust—with envy—and I cup the water in my hands and splash it on my face.

  “I can’t do this,” I utter, gripping the basin. “Shit.”

  I dry off my face and exit the bathroom. The girl I brought into my room is sitting on my bed by my pillows, her shirt discarded on the floor, but her small breasts are covered by a black lace bra.

  “Who is this?” she asks, brushing her thumb over a photograph.

  I hold my breath. Who goes through other people’s bedside tables without permission? I saunter closer and snatch the picture
from her fingers. I cut my eyes at her, and she glares up at me, her lips pouted, waiting for an explanation I don’t owe her. I peer at the photo, and the guilt of what I was about to do slams into my chest.

  “Get out,” I mutter, not taking my eyes off the photo.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, really.”

  “Pathetic,” she spits with an angry scowl.

  I step back as she pushes herself to her feet and grabs her shirt off the floor before she stalks off, slamming my bedroom door after her. Outside, I hear something smash but don’t bother investigating. I’m trapped by the photo.

  Me and Cass.

  She has a serious pout on her lips, and I’m smiling at her, enamored by her as always. Drew took the photo on his phone at my party the night Fiona overdosed. Sent it to me on Facebook a few weeks later and I had a few of them printed out for safekeeping.

  “Fuck!” I snap, slamming the photograph against my bedside table.

  I throw myself onto my bed and sling my arm over my face, squeezing my eyes shut. Of course she’s moved on. It’s been well over a year since we spoke last. What was I expecting? She’s gorgeous, young, and fit. She has an innocent face and a killer rack, but most importantly, she’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever met. Kind and compassionate. A real fucking sweetheart.

  I loved her.

  I love her.

  And I’ll do anything to get her back.

  Chapter Two

  C A L E B

  Present

  “Haha! Yes!” Nick booms, fist pumping the air.

  Exhaling, I drop his video game controller against the couch as a giant K.O. pulses on the screen. His musclebound dickhead of a character, wearing a white karategi, bounces on the balls of his feet over my sexy, huge-thighed, fighter chick’s unconscious body. This game is stupid. And boring. I only agreed to come over because I thought Cassia would be home. Turns out, she’s at work and I’m wasting my damn time here with this douchebag.