Reining Devotion: A Chaotic Rein novel

by Jenner, Haley

  “Jonathan,” I surmise, so many emotions running through me in that singular beat of time, I can’t determine how I actually feel.

  “I assume so,” she offers. “I don’t know who he is. I hadn’t even met him. I texted Sarah last week telling her the deal was off.”

  “Jonathan was my ex, Blake.”

  I don’t tell her that he’s a villain of the highest order. One that feeds on pain and suffering.

  “You pissed Sarah off.”

  She lifts her shoulders in dismissal. “I started seeing my dad for who he was, who he could be for us. No amount of money in the world is worth losing him. I get that now.”

  I brush at a lock of her blonde hair, moving it away from the wet line of her cheek to tuck it behind her ear.

  “Jonathan sent me a text earlier this week asking to meet, but Jesse had taken my phone. He took the meet, told him to fuck off out of our lives.”

  “He knew?” I ask, their knives of deceit plundering deeper and deeper. “Jesse?”

  “Jesse doesn’t trust anyone, not even me,” she confesses sadly. “I guess he was right not to. He knew something was up with how quickly I wanted to attach myself to Rocco. He was watching me too closely.”

  Using the collar of her shirt, she wipes her nose.

  “He called me out and I don’t lie to my brother.”

  “What does Sarah want with Rocco?”

  “I don’t know, revenge for something?”

  It doesn’t make any sense. Is it self-preservation? Is her plan to hurt Rocco before he does her?

  “You were to hurt Dominic, I knew that much.”

  I bark out a sinister laugh. Mother of the year, that one, bargaining for her daughter’s death all to hurt the man she felt wronged by.

  “They’ve taken Jesse as insurance. They’re gonna force my hand and I’ll have to play it, Camryn, he’s my brother.”

  I don’t want her to tell me she’d sacrifice Rocco’s life for her brother’s. I don’t want those words to break for her lips, forever out in the wild.

  “Hey.” I grab her chin. “You don’t have to do anything.”

  Something a liken to peace settles inside of me. “Sarah Rein wants to hurt my father more than she wants to hurt your dad. Jonathan.” I swallow the acid his name brings me. “He wants me, Blake. Not Rocco. I can end this.”

  “What?” She backs away from me. “No.”

  I smile. “Yeah.”

  Because it’s true. This could end with me.

  The threat of Jonathan has never left me. He stands behind me always, a ghost readying himself to pounce. To claim what he deems his. I threatened him once upon a time to find my freedom. I took control and that would’ve haunted him in a way nothing else could. He’ll never rest until he has me back. Until I’ve walked into his castle, a willing prisoner. I think I always knew that. That’s where the nightmares stemmed from. The imminent fear of him.

  Rocco was my saving grace for a time. He taught me how to protect myself. More, he stood behind me, reinforcing the power I held with the strength within him. Together we were invincible. Only now, to protect him, I need to be seen.

  Sarah won’t rest until vengeance is hers. Dominic and Rocco went after her and in her eyes that kick-started a challenge she’ll never back down from. She doesn’t want to take his life. That gives her nothing, and she’s smarter than that. My demise will force my father to suffer for the rest of his days. Codi and I are his Achilles heel and she’s more than willing to slash it wide open.

  It’ll be an easy swap. One my mother and monster ex will jump on.

  Me for Jesse.

  A life lost and one saved.

  Rocco finally has something to live for. Something that has fired his will to love. His world is happy now and he deserves to live that. My beautiful, devoted soul has spent his life protecting others at the detriment of his own self-worth. It’s time he knew how worthy he was. It’s time someone laid down their life for him.

  For once in his life, Rocco Shay will be protected, I’m gonna make sure of it.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Camryn

  Jonathan was all too eager to agree to my terms. So eager, I managed to convince him to throw in the five hundred grand for the kids as he originally promised.

  The bus rattles beneath me, the suffocating smell of old tobacco soaked into the seats. I chose to stand, my legs restless enough to move me from handrail to handrail, up and down the vehicle in disquiet.

  A bus was the best mode of transport I could think of. The only one that wouldn’t sketch Rocco a handwritten map to where I’d be. It also gave Jonathan time to place Jesse somewhere free from harm, as per our agreement.

  Blake texted me a minute or so ago telling me he was home. That he was safe.

  My solo request of Blake was that she didn’t call Rocco. That she didn’t call him the moment I left and divulge everything.

  I don’t trust her to adhere to my demand. Not for a single second.

  She’s a young girl caught between the gratitude she feels for me sacrificing my own life to save her brother’s and the callous threat she would’ve found a way to make me do it had I not taken matters into my own hands. Not that I blame her. If Codi was ever in dire straits, I’d throw almost anyone under the metaphorical bus, including myself, to save her.

  I feel oddly at peace.

  For years I feared Jonathan Waith. A monster of the worst kind. He’d wake me in my sleep, haunt me through my days. The smell of his breath, the feel of his fingertips; they were memories I couldn’t erase.

  Until Rocco.

  Until the man I thought I hated became my road to peace, to freedom.

  Maybe I have to accept the fact that every experience in life is a teachable moment. You either learn from it, or you fail, ready to learn in another time and place.

  Maybe Rocco was never my happily ever after.

  Maybe he was a life lesson, or five.

  He taught me strength. Building me up into someone I was proud to be. I no longer feared my dreams. They fucking feared me.

  Come at me, motherfucker, I’d scream, and watch me destroy you.

  He taught me self love. I no longer saw my broken parts as flaws. They were my beauty. The facets of me that made me the woman I am. The woman I wanted to be.

  He taught me I was loveable. He sought my company over everyone else. He laughed at my jokes and listened to my fears. He smiled when I shared my dreams and encouraged them in the only way he could.

  He taught me how to live. He showed me that even hurting, I didn’t have to hide away in my own self-inflicted bubble of self-destruction. Even hurt and angry, I could find happiness. In fact, putting myself out there was the exact thing I needed to pull me out of my pain.

  He taught me I still had love within. I had it coursing through my veins like blood. For him. For the monster I was certain I despised. For the broken spirit not so different from myself.

  Maybe my end goal was to learn these lessons before I died. To finally let me Rest in Peace.

  * * *

  He’s so fucking cliché.

  An abandoned warehouse, really? Corroded metal and smashed windows.

  They say life flashes through your eyes before you die. Your whole life played out before you in a blaze of light. Your achievements, your failures… your memories played out in a click of a finger.

  I disagree.

  Mine hasn’t flashed. It’s sailed over the span of the last hour.

  Memories I’ve cherished, warming my heart in a way that has eaten away at the fear that was threatening to creep in.

  The love I’ve felt, brandished on my heart, ensuring I know I was loved completely.

  Regrets I refuse to feed.

  Should I have said goodbye?

  Should I have asked my dad for help?

  The answer is no. Easily. I have zero doubt.

  The more people involved, the greater the possibility of failure. An outcome that can’t be
entertained. Too many lives are at stake.

  Straightening my spine, I roll my shoulders backward, stepping toward the entrance.

  My feet rest on tarnished concrete, the smell of dereliction twisting my lips in distaste. The scrape of a chair echoes as he stands, their presence a blemish in an otherwise empty space.

  I thought I’d feel more when I saw her. That some form of feeling, or longing would spike into the deepest crevice of my heart. That I would miss my mom, or the promise of who she should’ve been.

  I can’t even say I hate her. The potent realization of nothing hits me when our eyes meet. She’s a stranger, one that provokes no concern or ill-toward or contempt.

  “This is a new level of pathetic.” She poisons the air with her voice. “Even for you.”

  “Where’s Jesse?” I turn my attention to the man who has played a starring role in my nightmares for the last few years. I know he is safe, but I need Jonathan to say it. To admit that he gave something away. That he’s not a master of the universe. That he had to stoop low enough to hurt a child to force my hand.

  “Safe,” he purrs, strolling toward me at a pace similar to a panther stalking its prey. “I had him dropped off outside your fuck buddy’s home with his briefcase full of cash, as promised.”

  He’s close enough that I can smell him. The bite of his aftershave enough to make me dry retch. Only, I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Instead, I force my breath to enter and leave my body through my mouth.

  “Kitty Kat,” he whispers. “I’ve missed you.” The barrel of his gun moves upward, caressing my face in a malevolent affection.

  A warning. I could kill you, he promises.

  “Unfortunately, I can’t say the same.”

  He chuckles. A soft smooth sound that would make most women weep. “Where did that little backbone come from?” he teases, stepping into my body.

  It takes everything I hold inside not to step back.

  I lift my chin to the side, avoiding the threat of his face touching mine.

  “Don’t worry,” he whispers into my now exposed ear. “I’ll break it again soon enough.”

  Wrong answer, asshole, I want to scream. It’s made of fucking steel now.

  He hasn’t changed in the years since I escaped his wrath. Your typical Wall Street jerk. Too pretty to be taken seriously by the big boys. Too weak to be accepted by the delinquent. A wannabe mobster living off his daddy’s money because everyone can see him for the flake he is.

  His dark hair has grown. Gone is the clean slick-back style, in its place a grown out mess of wavy locks that cuts across the line of his face like a Hollywood heartthrob. Skin a little too pale, lips a little too red. He’s uncomfortable to look at. Attractive, but minacious.

  “Are you going to kill me?” I ask.

  Tongue peeking out to wet his lips, he taps his gun against his thigh. “I don’t know.”

  “Of course he is,” Sarah interrupts. “Are you as stupid as you are weak?”

  He ignores her, never moving his eyes from mine.

  “Imagine how daddy will feel when his precious Ryn is stripped from his world.”

  I close my eyes against her threat, refusing to think of the pain my father and Codi will feel on my death.

  She laughs, a horrible sound that resembles a dying hyena. “This is just so much fun. I might have to take away that ungrateful sister of yours as well.”

  I step toward her. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

  “News-fucking-flash, Camryn,” she roars. “I’m in charge. I say who the fuck dies and when.”

  The deafening bang of Jonathan’s gun firing ricochets through the empty warehouse, bouncing off the walls loud enough to make me flinch. It sails past my head with a crack that makes my eyes water. I don’t hear it hit her, but I hear the solid thump of her body hit the dirty concrete floor with a finality she didn’t see coming.

  Rest in fucking Hell, Mother.

  Here lives Sarah Rein.

  Deceitful wife.

  Neglectful mother.

  Toxic human.

  “Thank fuck,” Jonathan groans. “You know how annoying that bitch was. Fuck. I almost shot her so many fucking times.”

  I don’t move my gaze from my mother as he speaks. I watch the blood around her head grow with every second that passes. A puddle of life that is no longer hers. It belongs to the concrete now. Forever stained as an imperfection in this world. A contamination to the world, in both life and death.

  I recoil as Jonathan’s fingers grip my chin, demanding my attention. “But if I killed her too soon,” he murmurs, “I may never have gotten you to come to me. Willingly, like a good little Kitty Kat.”

  I want to vomit.

  “Now.” His hand twists into my hair, pulling it roughly to expose the line of my neck. My grunt of pain makes him smile and my heart flutters in the beginnings of panic. Lifting his gun, he trails the barrel—still hot from the murder of my mother—from my chin down to the hollow notch of my jugular. Pushing hard enough to stop my breath, he leans forward, sucking in the choke of air I exhale. “You’ll need to be punished,” he threatens. “Leaving me the way you did.” He tsks. “You made me so mad,” he grits against my lips and I pray he can’t feel me shaking. “I wanted to kill you and your fucking sister, just for the inconvenience.”

  “Leave Codi out of this.” My voice sounds strangled, the barrel of his gun still leaving me with limited air.

  Anger flashes through his eyes and he grabs at my jaw, moving to shove his gun into my mouth. “Don’t make fucking demands of me, cunt. You should be on your fucking knees begging me to spare you for the shit you pulled.”

  “I’d rather you shoot me,” I mumble around the metal.

  He takes a step back, throwing his head back to laugh.

  “Don’t fucking tempt me. You think a few years away from me and you’re what? Strong. I broke you down with ease once, I’ll do it a-fucking-gain. Your little warrior act is cute, but best accept you’re back with me, Kitty Kat.”

  Sliding forward, he bends his neck, making sure I can see his eyes.

  “Now, get on your fucking knees.”

  “Go to hell.”

  “Oh, I’m sure I will. Just not today.” He steps into my body, leaning into me harshly. My neck tips back to keep him in focus. “Get. On. Your. Fucking. Knees.”

  I refuse to move.

  Palm to my chest, he shoves me. Hard.

  I stumble, but don’t fall.

  He moves forward again, hand gripping into my shirt to lift me off my feet. The muscles in his arm bulge in exertion.

  This time he throws me.

  Hands flailing, I land on my ass. I yelp out in pain, a gust of air jumping from my throat on impact.

  Crab walking backward, I scurry away.

  But he’s faster.

  On me in a flash, he lifts me by my hair.

  I wince.

  Tucking his gun into the waistband of his pants, he slaps me with as much might as he can manage. Pain slices across my face, eyes watering, my cheek stinging, a trickle of blood escaping the side of my mouth.

  His chest heaves with anger.

  Eyes always up.

  Jonathan releases my hair, letting me stand on my own two feet.

  Elbows in. Punch with your right hand first, but rotate your arm as you do.

  I lift my head, ignoring the pounding in my temple.

  My goal is peace.

  Closing his eyes to crack his neck, I take my chance. Knees bent, I jab my right arm forward with as much power as I can find, just like Rocco showed me.

  You’re forgetting your reinforcements. Me. At your back. Holding you up.

  My fist connects with his jaw with a loud and satisfying crack. He stumbles backward, shock twisting his face in hate. Hand lifting to his jaw, he drags against it roughly. Pulling it back, he takes in the smear of blood staining his skin.

  “You stupid fucking bitch.” He spits at the ground, a mixture of bloo
d and saliva landing beside his Dolce & Gabbana leather shoes.

  Pompous prick.

  I feign a level of confidence I by no means feel. Eyebrow lifting in challenge. “Only way you’ll touch me like that again is when I’m fucking dead.”

  He smiles, the blood from my right hook smeared across his teeth. “Your wish, Kitty Kat. My fucking command.”

  I could run. Sprint as fast as I fucking can. But I’m not stupid, that would only delay the inevitable.

  I’m not afraid of him. He’s a fucking coward who controls others through fear. If Rocco taught me anything, it was to take my control. If I die doing it, so be it. I’m not afraid of death. I’ve made peace with that reality. More than that, I’m fucking happy to give over to it if in the end it saves my family.

  Grabbing me by the throat, Jonathan pulls me in, kissing my lips. A kiss of death if I’ve ever experienced one.

  The idiot is so confident in his own power, he never imagined I’d be strong enough to exert my own.

  I take the opportunity of him being so close, biting his lip to draw blood. My knee lifts at the same time, slamming into his tiny fucking balls.

  He drops me, hand grabbing his crotch as he roars in pain.

  A second later his gun is pointed in my direction, fury like fire in his eyes.

  “Too scared to fight a girl?” I taunt, throwing gasoline on the flames of his ego.

  “That piece of shit Shay poisoned you.”

  I laugh in his face. “Rocco Shay breathed life into me. He woke the fucking fighter within me.”

  Licking the blood from his lip, a wretched grin spreads over his face. “Better hope he comes to your rescue, bitch.”

  “I don’t need a hero to save me. I’m my own fucking savior.”

  “Your savior is gonna let you die.”

  I shrug, a smile on my face. “At least I’ll do it with my fucking dignity intact. Unlike you, having to shoot me because you’re afraid I could kill you.”

  Pulling his arm out of aim, he looks at his gun before dropping it to the ground. Eyes on me, he kicks it as far away as possible.

  I watch it slide across the floor, coming to an abrupt stop at my mother’s lifeless body.