Reining Devotion: A Chaotic Rein novel

by Jenner, Haley

  Palm pressed into my spine, he lifts me from the couch, sliding backward. His ass to the carpet, my legs remain stuck to his sides, letting us feel his potent want thickening against my core.

  His kiss, unbreaking, only intensifies as the seconds tick by. There’s an agony in the way he kisses me. An endeavor on his lips. A silent prayer sealed in the fusion of our mouths.

  Love me, he asks. He begs. He pleads.

  Harder, he urges.

  Completely, he burns.

  Who am I to deny him?

  Tearing my lips from his, I let the promise in my eyes bore into his.

  “Are you sure?” I ask, pressing my forehead to his. “About this. About us. You’ve just discovered you’re a dad. You have teenage twins, Rocco. Do you need this complication?”

  Inhaling heavily, he shakes his head, our skin still touching. “It’s the one thing in my life I am sure about. You. The best part of each day is you, beauty. You settle me,” he concedes. “You’ve become the best part of me.”

  “Rocco,” I whisper.

  “With you, I no longer have to hide the hideous parts of who I am,” he admits, almost hesitantly. Definitely quietly. Maybe even a little uncertainly. “You make me believe you love those parts too... all the ugly,” he clarifies.

  I want to cry. I want to grab his hand and force it into my chest so he can feel what he does to me. “I don’t love your ugly parts,” I whisper.

  His eyes flash in understanding, in a defeat that weakens his valor.

  “I don’t love your ugly parts because they don’t exist, Rocco. Every unseemly thing you’ve done has been done through love. That’s not ugly, baby. It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful. To me, you’re everything and I do love every part of you. But there’s no ugly, not to me.”

  It’s taken me almost too long to recognize that. I pinned him as an unhinged psychopath, refusing to see his purpose. Rocco Shay, unbeknownst to everyone, might very well be the most devoted human being I’ve ever known. Lawlessly, sure. A chaotic devotion that drives him. He’s driven by love so fiercely it’s read as hate.

  Talk about poetic. This striking man has been reared by the most hateful of souls, judged by the rest of us and for what, loving too hard?

  My hands frame his face, pulling him back to look into his eyes. “I’d bleed for you too. I poured so much effort into hating you, that you bulldozed your way into my heart without me noticing. Without either of us noticing.” We smile. “But more than that, you showed me how to love myself. You gave something I thought was lost. You let me be free.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Rocco

  I hold hands.

  Who would’ve thought?

  But driving to her father’s house, ready to face the scorn of the two people I’ve dedicated my life to finding, Camryn’s hand resting comfortably in mine, I feel centered.

  So, yeah… I hold fucking hands.

  As if reading my thoughts, she squeezes my palm. “How are you feeling?”

  Taking my eyes off the road for a second, I glance in her direction. “I don’t know,” I tell her honestly. “I don’t know how to navigate this shitty situation. I just want them to accept that I’m their dad, but they have every right not to.”

  “You’re scared,” she deducts.

  Scared. “Fuck, beauty. I’m petrified.”

  “That’s good,” she tells me. “Love is scary. You love them. You want it to work out.”

  Lifting her hand to my mouth, I press my lips to her knuckles.

  Love isn’t just scary, it’s a catastrophe waiting to happen. A constant test the universe enjoys throwing at you, measuring your commitment to the feeling, waiting for you to fuck up. If my life has taught me anything, it’s that. My mother. My kids. Mira. Shit, even Kane. The most important people in my life and the love I have for them has been pushed to its limits. Time and time again. Problem is, more often than not, I fail.

  We walk into Rein’s home hand-in-hand. My feet a step ahead of hers, daring someone to comment. Maybe I should’ve checked with her whether she was ready to divulge our new status to her family, but I don’t want to give her the option to back away from me. I told her that.

  All. In.

  I’ve given her everything. I’m not interested in taking steps backward.

  Blake sits at the breakfast bar, Dominic cooking her bacon and eggs as she chatters away eagerly. Her face lights up as she speaks, her hands moving in quick, excited movements to emphasize her story.

  She reminds me of Lila. The soft chuckle that trails off as she laughs. The wide, infectious smile that stretches over the entirety of her face; crinkling her eyes, carving small dimples into her cheeks, showing her slightly crooked teeth.

  It gives me pause.

  I have a daughter.

  One my mother will never meet.

  A miniature version of her, that she would’ve adored on sight.

  The smell of their breakfast drifts through the house, making my stomach rumble. It’s loud enough for them to hear, alerting them to our presence.

  Blake’s voice cuts off almost immediately, eyes darting to me in uncertainty, her smile disappearing almost immediately, replaced with a thin line of caution.

  I hate that she was completely comfortable alone in Dominic’s company. A stranger. One that owes her nothing. But I stand a few feet away, her father, and she shuts down.

  “Hi,” she tests, after an awkward beat of silence.

  “Mornin’,” I respond. “Sleep okay?”

  “Dad,” Camryn interrupts. “Let’s, uh, check on that thing you wanted to show me.”

  My eyes close on a sigh. “Smooth, Cami.”

  “Yes.” Dominic places his spatula down stiffly. “That thing, good idea.”

  Blake and I watch them disappear, their quick-moving feet only a tad more awkward than their made-up escape.

  “They’re, uh, graceful.”

  I smile. “Wanna walk out back?”

  Jumping from the stool, she nods. “Sure.”

  “Where’s your brother?”

  “Sleeping.” Her face softens at his mention, the love shared between the two of them enough to chip away at a small cluster of my guilt for leaving them without family for too long. In reality, they weren’t alone, and from experience, it makes the world of fucking difference.

  “He has nightmares,” she tells me openly. “They can be pretty bad. He crashes out pretty heavily after particularly awful nights.”

  “Nightmares are somethin’ I have a lot of experience with.”

  Neck twisted to scan my profile, she nods in understanding. “I see that.”

  We sigh at the same time.

  “I ain’t really sure how to navigate this whole situation,” I say.

  “The situation being me and Jesse?” she tests hotly.

  “The situation being a dad with two teenagers who have been conditioned to hate me.”

  “We don’t hate you,” she whispers, her hand brushing across the foliage of a plant as we move past it. “We’ve just spent sixteen years only having one another to lean on. You may be our father biologically, Rocco, but right now, you’re just a stranger.”

  That reality burns my throat.

  “Can you tell me about you?” I ask.

  There’s a dismissal in the way she shrugs. “There’s not much to tell. I’m a happy loner. My brother is my best friend. I like to think of myself as a good human being. In saying that, I’ve stolen and lied and cheated just to survive.”

  Her feet stop at the base of a large tree in the back yard, her neck tipping back to take it in, in its entirety. “I have this obsession with sitcoms. The canned laughter and idiotic jokes. They make me laugh.” She smiles at me when she says that. A beautiful grin that reminds me so much of my mother, it lightens my heart in the same way it causes it pain. “It used to make me feel as though the world can’t be that bad of a place if people like me could see the humor in a joke, in the same way, someone rid
ing in their very own private plane.”

  Circling the base of the tree, I follow. “I fell out of a tree like this once. I was hiding from Marcus. I broke my arm and Mom was too out of it to take me to the hospital. Jesse and I had to find our own way there,” she muses.

  “How old were you?”

  Looking at me over her shoulder, she pauses, considering not telling me. “Eight.”

  “Jesus.” I scratch at my beard.

  She laughs. “It was an adventure. They obviously called child services, but not before they’d put my arm in a cast. We hightailed it out of there when they weren’t looking before they could take us away from one another.”

  She recites the memory with a fondness that stabs at my conscience. This is a fucking happy memory.

  “Don’t look so murderous,” she sighs, her big eyes rolling to exaggerate her distaste at my self-pity. “I survived. I’m alive. I’m happy-ish.”

  “Blake—” I start, but she cuts me off.

  “I’m not gonna lie to you, Rocco. I want to know you. But my brother is more important than my need for a family that may or may not work out.”

  I stare at her, unblinking, unsure what she’s trying to say.

  “If he wants to leave and never see you again...” she offers apologetically.

  “You’ll never see me again.”

  Refusing to look at me, she nods her head. “I like knowing you exist though.”

  “Tell me how to make it work,” I beg quietly. “Tell me how I get him to want to know me too.”

  “This house is ridiculous. Do you live in a house this big?”

  Hands stuffed in my pocket, I shake my head. “I can take the two of you to show you? I have a picture of Lila. My mother.” I sound pathetic, a street dog waiting for scraps. But if scraps are all they want to give me right now, I’ll fucking take them.

  The eagerness in her eyes flashes openly, firing my hope. “The one I look like?”

  “Blake!”

  Spinning on her heel, she waves at her brother enthusiastically. “Morning, sunshine.”

  Stalking toward us, he frowns against the sun.

  “You show him you give a shit,” she whispers. “Jesse is the best person I know, but he trusts no one. Not really even me. We’ve been screwed over our entire lives. That’s where his expectation now sits. You change that, he’ll stay.”

  Fuck. No pressure.

  “Mornin’,” I murmur and he echoes the sentiment with a quick jerk of his chin.

  Playing with his hair, Blake turns her back to me. “Rocco invited us to check out his home,” she tells him quietly. “Show us some photos of our family.”

  Jesse’s eyes never waver from mine, the intensity unwelcome on a teenage boy.

  “Sure,” he finally agrees.

  I expected an argument. A decisive and unmovable no.

  “You’re the best,” Blake sings.

  * * *

  They walk into my loft with hesitant steps. Feeling as unwelcome as I am uncomfortable.

  “It’s so, uh… homely,” Blake jokes impassively.

  “Parker moved out a few months back.”

  “Took all the character with him, I see,” she retorts.

  “Blake,” Jesse reprimands miserably.

  “What?” she quips. “It’s like a show home. I feel my mere presence is unsanitary.”

  Obviously a first good impression. Failure, a million. Rocco, zero.

  “I like order. Cleanliness. It makes me feel…”

  “In control,” Jesse offers distractedly, eyeing my gym setup earnestly.

  I should’ve let Camryn come with me. She offered and I told her it was something I needed to do alone. Now I’m regretting it. I have zero idea what to talk to them about, or how to put them at ease.

  “You look fit.” I look Jesse up and down.

  He’s tall, even at sixteen, he doesn’t stand much shorter than me and Parker. The kid’s got broad shoulders, but he’s too skinny; bones sticking out where there should be muscle.

  “Nice try.” He barks out a laugh. Not exactly humored, but not entirely sarcastic either. “I’m a weed.”

  “So was Park at your age,” I assure him. “Some good food, a few sessions training your muscles and you’ll see some positive growth.”

  “You a personal trainer?” he asks. “For work?”

  Walking from the gym, he assumes I’ll follow, which I do. “Nah. Parker and I own a club.”

  “And you work with Dominic?” he tests.

  My shoulders lift non-committedly.

  They’re not stupid, they know Dominic’s line of work. Which means, them knowing I work for him lets them know I’m not exactly a stand-up citizen.

  “Is this her?” Blake interrupts. “Lila.”

  Glancing up, the photo of Parker, mom and I held in her hands, she looks to me for confirmation. “That’s Lila,” I cough out. “My mom… your grandmother.”

  “She’s beautiful,” she sighs.

  “She looks like you.”

  I feel her smile touch my face, but my eyes are on the photo.

  Fuck, what I’d give for my mother to have met them. For her to look at them and know I created something worthwhile.

  “What was she like?”

  Scratching at my beard, I look away, unable to look them in the eye and talk about Lila at the same time. “She was the best person I’ve ever known. She was kind and funny and giving.”

  “Why’d he kill her?” Jesse interrupts. “Marcus? Why did he kill her?”

  This was the last thing I wanted to talk to them about. I didn’t want to spend the first, and possibly, my last bit of time with my kids talking about death and the implosion of my family.

  But they deserved the truth.

  “Marcus was havin’ an affair with Sarah Rein.”

  They shift uneasily.

  “You’ve met her,” I surmise.

  “Unfortunately,” Jesse mutters.

  I look to Blake for her confirmation, but she looks away, unfazed by my curious gaze.

  “He knocked her up and my mother found out,” I continue when she gives me nothing. “Sarah was feedin’ dodgy intel to Marcus about Rein’s business. Marcus freaked about Kane—my dad—findin’ out, so he and Sarah killed her.”

  Confusion settles across their faces.

  “Why didn’t Kane retaliate?” Blake places the frame neatly back on my mantel.

  I gesture for them to sit down, only doing the same after they’ve settled. “He didn’t know. He thought Dominic was responsible. Spent the three years before he died plotting his revenge.”

  “And Parker just married Codi?”

  I nod. “I took on Dad’s revenge. I wanted to hurt Dominic. My plan to do so involved hurtin’ Codi.” I feel sick. “Parker fell in love with her instead, everything went AWOL and we found out the real story. My aunt Mira died in the fallout, Dominic killed Marcus and the world kept turnin’.”

  They watch me with wide eyes.

  “I’m telling you this because I want you to know from the get-go, I’ve done some seriously shitty things in my life. Unforgivable things. I’m not the greatest role model. I’m not sure I ever will be. But, I promise you I’ll try. I want you both in my life. Obviously, as my kids, us building the relationship we should’ve always had. But, if that’s too much to ask of you, in whatever capacity you will consider. You haven’t ever had anyone in your corner, fighting for you. I understand that.” I implore them to believe me. “You need to know, you have me right beside you now. And Parker, and Cami, Codi, and Dominic. You have a family, whether you’re interested in it or not.”

  Standing abruptly, Jesse rolls his shoulders. “Can I use your bathroom?”

  I scared him. Or he thinks I’m full of hot air, spilling shit that I think he wants to hear.

  “My ensuite is down the hall, my bedroom is on the right.”

  He leaves the room without another word.

  “Nice speech.”

&
nbsp; I move my gaze to my daughter, body settled comfortably into my couch, arms crossed against her chest, one leg crossed across the other, kicking out; back and forth.

  “Wasn’t a speech.”

  “Mmm,” she dismisses me. “Do you have any food? I’m starving.”

  “Thought we could go out for lunch?”

  “Sounds good to me.” She stands, ambling into my kitchen lazily to open my cupboards.

  Shaking my head, I move down the small hall toward my bedroom.

  Jesse, head bent down, hand rifling through my side table with fervor, doesn’t hear me approach.

  “Anyone ever tell you it’s rude to snoop?”

  Standing quickly, he turns, slamming the drawer shut as he goes. “Just trying to get a better read on who you are.”

  He’s not in the slightest bit apologetic and I respect the hell outta him for it. If it was anyone else going through my shit, I’d lose my head. I’d be fucking furious for my privacy being invaded in that way. But truth is, the situation reversed, I’d be doing the exact same thing.

  “Sit.” I gesture to my bed.

  He drops his gaze to the comforter, then back up. “I’d rather stand.”

  “Please,” I exhale.

  Shifting forward, he sits along the edge, his reluctance making his movement jerky.

  “Kid,” I start. “I don’t want us to fuck this up before we’ve even had a chance. I get at this point, you owe me nothin’.”

  Palm pressing against a closed fist, he cracks his knuckles, refusing to look at me.

  “But I owe you patience and understanding and a whole lot fuckin’ more. What I won’t stand for is you comin’ into my home and sneakin’ around. You wanna know somethin’, Jesse, just ask me. If you need somethin’, it’s yours, you don’t need to steal from me.”

  Teeth grabbing hold of his bottom lip, he rolls it back and forth.

  “Blake wants to start staying here,” he says. “Instead of Dominic’s,” he clarifies unnecessarily. “I want you to say no.”

  “I can’t do that,” I deny him. “I could, but I won’t. If you belong anywhere, it’s with me, you’re a Shay, Jesse, not a fucking Rein.”