The Moth and the Flame (When Rivals Play Book 2)

by B. B. Reid

  “Who?”

  “Samantha!”

  Rolling his eyes, he stepped inside the room, grabbed the remote, and much too casually reclined on my bed.

  “Wren?”

  “That’s over,” he muttered. He never even took his gaze from the TV as he channel-surfed.

  “Well, you didn’t have to stop on my account.”

  “Actually, I did,” he quipped with a curl of his lips.

  “You can fuck anyone, Wren. Just not my neighbors.”

  “You sure about that?”

  My heart skipped a beat. “What?”

  His focus zeroed in on me, and for several seconds he just stared. “You heard me.”

  Turning away, I rummaged through my dresser in search of more barriers. In my heart, I knew that if Wren touched me, not even a bulletproof vest would be enough protection.

  “When you eventually got bored with her, she’d be a thing of your past, but she’d still be my neighbor.”

  “So that was the only reason you cared?”

  “What other reason would there be?”

  I held my breath waiting for his reply, but he was quiet for so long I gave in before he did. Sucking in air, I grabbed the first shirt and pair of shorts I touched and bolted for the door. Unfortunately, he decided to give chase and caught me with a hand around my throat before I could cross the threshold. His hold wasn’t harsh or threatening, but then Wren never needed either to have me right where he wanted. Forcing my back against the door, he moved in, stopping just short of his body pressing against mine. I’m pretty sure all hell would have broken loose if it had. His eyes seemed to be glowing when our gazes locked.

  “You’re too young.”

  “I know that.” And I did. The problem was that I didn’t care as much. “I also know that I won’t be sixteen forever.” The moment the words left my lips, I was shocked by them, awed by them. I’d never meant to utter them.

  “Jesus Christ, Lou!” Wren pushed away from me and shoved his fingers through his hair. “This is never going to happen. We’re friends. Just friends. That was the deal.”

  My gaze fell to my feet. “I-I think you should go.”

  My heart tore in two when I heard his sigh of relief. “Fine.”

  “And I don’t think you should come back.” I was staring at the floor when I said that, so I didn’t see his reaction, but I felt it. His shock, his anger, his confusion…it was all the things I felt but more. This wasn’t our first fight or even our worse, but it was the one that hurt the most. He wasn’t even the one to blame. It was my jealousy that caused this.

  I should have just let him fuck her.

  It wasn’t as if I truly believed he’d fall for her or anything. I just couldn’t bear the thought of knowing she could have him in ways that I couldn’t.

  “What the hell are you talking about, Lou?”

  “Don’t come back, Wren. I swear you better not come back.”

  “Or what?” he challenged. He’d taken a threatening step forward, and when I met his gaze, I could see that he wasn’t going to back down. It shouldn’t have surprised me. Wren had always given me what I wanted except space.

  “Or nothing. I just won’t talk to you.”

  He chuckled with disbelief and a little genuine humor. “Silent treatment? You’re threatening me with the silent treatment?”

  I twisted my lips with a shrug. What could I really do? Wren had my foster parents under his thumb, and whenever I ran away, he always managed to find me and bring me back. Short of killing him, I was stuck with him.

  Unless I could convince him.

  “Come back…and I’ll fuck Miles.”

  “What?” Time stood utterly still as we both waited for the other’s submission. “What the fuck did you just say, Louchana?”

  I was about to speak when I heard the unmistakable sound of the front door opening and closing.

  The Hendersons had returned from Bible study, and I knew it meant I had won this round—for now.

  “You better go,” I taunted and nodded toward his only exit.

  Wren looked at the window, and then with a smirk, made an about-face. Before I could stop him, he was jogging down the stairs. I could hear the Hendersons startled surprise when he cheerfully greeted them. A moment later, the front door opened and closed.

  “Lou?” Mr. Henderson called up the stairs.

  My voice shook when I answered him. “Yes?”

  “Could you come down here, please?”

  I started down the stairs until I remembered that I only wore a towel. Shit! After hurriedly dressing, I rushed downstairs to receive my punishment.

  I was grounded for a month.

  While the Hendersons tolerated Wren, they had strict rules about entertaining him alone in their home. I wouldn’t be seeing anyone for a long time, not Wren and certainly not Miles.

  Well played, asshole.

  After spending nearly half an hour assuring them that nothing inappropriate happened, I excused myself upstairs and wearily slid into bed.

  It didn’t take long for the tears to come, and once I started, I couldn’t stop. I never thought I could hate and love someone equally, but with Wren Harlan, anything was possible.

  My next sob was caught in my throat when I heard the window being shoved open. My back was to it, but I didn’t need to see. It could only be Wren. I hurriedly wiped away my tears even though I knew he couldn’t see them.

  Thankfully, the carpet muffled the sound of his feet touching the floor. I had a feeling the Hendersons would ground me for life or worse—send me back to the group home—if they caught Wren in my room twice in one night. I listened as he removed his jacket and then his shoes and shirt before my bed dipped under his weight. I then sucked in a breath when I felt strong arms slide around my waist and pull me against a wall that was hard, hot, and familiar.

  Trying my best to sound unaffected, I released the air I was holding and said, “I told you not to come back.”

  His arms tightened around me as if he were afraid I’d run. “I never left.”

  Too tired but mostly too relieved to fight, I sighed and snuggled deeper inside his arms. “Stalker.”

  His chest shook from laughing, and I felt myself smiling.

  “Lou?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I can’t lose you, too.”

  My heart nearly burst from my chest at the vulnerability in his voice. “You won’t. Best friends for life.”

  The next morning, I delivered the news that I was grounded and kicked him out of my room. He then recited an address—Miles’s address—before gently kissing my forehead and climbing from my window.

  As I watched him go with a frown, I wondered if he meant what I thought he meant. Just as I began to think I was wrong, he stopped and shot me a meaningful look over his shoulder.

  Message received.

  It should have troubled me, but all I felt was the ache in my belly easing, knowing that he returned my jealousy.

  In the window’s reflection, I saw a smile that didn’t leave my face the entire time I got ready for school. But then I stepped outside and found Samantha waiting.

  And right there on the Hendersons’ stoop, she shared every little detail of their dirty deeds.

  When I confronted Wren, he had nothing to say.

  He never even bothered to deny it.

  Present

  “A MARRIED COUPLE LIVES ALONE in the home, and my source says they’re old as shit. It will be like taking candy from a baby,” the informant boasted. Harry was our latest mole in Thirteen’s operations after the last one was discovered and sent back to us in pieces. At the moment, Harry was attempting to sell us on a heist that sounded too good to be true, and from the looks of the men hanging onto his every word, he was succeeding. I should have been more invested, but I couldn’t stop replaying the argument with Lou earlier today.

  I knew one day I’d regret the decision I made a year ago, but I knew my little Valentine better than she
knew herself. Lou wasn’t the kind of girl who crushed. She was the kind who fell. Letting her believe I fucked Samantha kept that from happening, and if I were honest, the moment Lou batted her lashes my way, there had been no hope for Samantha.

  Or any other girl.

  “How much coke are we talking?” Shane asked with an eager glint in his eye. Other than me, he was the only one who had our leader’s ear. Nathaniel Fox was as paranoid as he was cruel, and for the former, he had every reason to be.

  Fox was cast out of Thirteen for allegedly murdering their former leader, and conspiring with Crow, Exiled’ cofounder, to succeed him. The formation of Exiled cemented the accusation. With a hefty bounty on his head, Fox had zero chance of surviving, not without help and an army to hide behind him, so with the help of Crow, he initiated a rivalry that spanned nearly three decades. No one could be sure of what was true because much like the present, our past was shrouded by too many secrets.

  Fox himself was a mystery to those who served him. Few of us had seen him and even fewer who knew where he kept himself hidden. After Crow’s death, Fox retreated into the mountains, truly living in exile. He wasn’t too far away that he couldn’t manage his operations—delegating played a key role—but he was far enough to remain hidden from his enemies. Nothing lasted forever though. We now controlled New York, but it had taken us three decades, and a lot of blood spilled to make it happen. Thirteen had the entire East Coast on lock, and by taking control of New York, we had become a thorn firmly embedded in their side. But it wasn’t enough. We needed to behead the beast.

  “Twenty kilos.”

  Eddie, who kind of looked like a much younger Michael Peña, whistled. “That’s half a million dollars. Boss is going to shit a brick. Literally.”

  He laughed at his joke and Siko—who got his name for resembling the actor, Joseph Sikora—joined in until I silenced them both with one look. Siko and Eddie were reasonably new to the crew but had both impressed Shane with their ability to procure information and eliminate threats without blinking an eye. However, if it weren’t for the fact that they had supplied the mole, they wouldn’t have been allowed in the room.

  “How sure are you of this information?” I grilled even though I knew any argument I made at this point would be ineffectual. Exiled cultivated greed and recklessness and often paid the price, and Fox…he didn’t care how many men he sacrificed as long as he reaped the rewards.

  “Cross my heart,” Harry said as he did so, “and hope to die.”

  “If you’re wrong, that can be arranged,” Shane casually threatened as he chewed on his toothpick.

  Harry tried to hide his nervousness as the atmosphere in the room became grim. The wheels in my head were turning faster now as my gut burned. Something was off, and if I couldn’t prevent the train from leaving the station, I’d make damn sure I was there to derail it if it went south.

  “I wouldn’t let you down, boss.”

  Shane turned to me without giving Harry’s claim any credence. “We can’t risk a sloppy job. You interested?”

  I nodded though it seemed superfluous to offer consent. Even if I hadn’t insisted on being there, I wasn’t foolish enough to believe Shane was actually giving me a choice. I had authority and respect within Exiled, more than the rest, but even my leash extended only so far.

  “Good. I don’t want to give Thirteen a chance to distribute the product or risk them getting spooked and relocating the coke, so once boss gives the okay, we move in.” He stood from the table, and in typical Shane fashion, he left the room without acknowledging or offering any goodbyes.

  Harry waited all of five seconds before scurrying from the room back to whatever hole he’d come from.

  Siko and Eddie were excitedly discussing how they’d spend their cut of the money. No doubt a job this size would guarantee a generous commission. I had a hard time suppressing my irritation when I ordered them back to work.

  After they had left, I moved through the shotgun house making sure everything was running smoothly. This particular spot was the hub for our counterfeiting operation. We printed and sold fake money to anyone desperate, greedy, or stupid enough to buy it and made a pretty nice profit, but it wasn’t even close to our largest moneymaker.

  Fox’s stables covertly sprinkled throughout the city brought in twice as much—not to mention the drugs and guns we callously flooded into the streets. More recently, Fox had sunk his teeth into gambling along with its reluctant ringmaster, Mickey Johnson. Mickey had his hand in everything that could be bet on, making an impressive name and profit from his efforts. And now Fox demanded a piece of the pie, finally elevating his extortion of local businesses cloistered in our city to most of the East Coast. It was only a matter of time before he set his sights even further. After all, Fox’s ambitions were designed to not only threaten Thirteen’s but engulf them. So far, we’d succeeded in pushing most of Thirteen out of New York, but our rival had long since graduated from being a simple street gang. The terrified whispers were beginning to utter mafia, and if Fox hoped to keep up with the seven decades of terror Thirteen wrought, he couldn’t afford to show mercy.

  Not that he ever considered it.

  One of my brothers texted me about a party another member was throwing, but as usual, I turned them down and crashed at the stable, much to the girls’ pleasure. In the beginning, I couldn’t get enough of Exiled parties—the girls, the booze, the drugs. I never indulged in the latter, but I had more than I could handle of the former. Back then, I hadn’t had all the power and the responsibilities that came along with it, but after I fucked up my initiation, Fox was determined to make me prove my worth. Five years later, I was still paying for the ounce of mercy I’d shown.

  The setting sun made it hard to read Lou’s expression when she stepped outside the next day, but I could tell by her body language that she was still pissed.

  “I wasn’t expecting to see you for a while,” she mumbled when she finally stood in front of me with her arms crossed. She wore white denim shorts that were frayed at the end and hugged her thighs. I could only imagine how her ass looked in them and swallowed back a groan. The black ribbed tank top she wore was cut so dangerously low her breasts were close to spilling out, and even more frustrating was that it was cropped, showing off her belly button. My jaw clenched when I thought about the time she’d considered piercing it. I had begged her not to. I never explained why I was against it, and she never asked. For a few days, I tortured myself wondering if she knew until I finally stopped myself from thinking about it.

  Even now, my mouth watered at the thought, and I forced myself to swallow.

  “But you were hoping I’d come,” I said with confidence, making her eyes narrow. She didn’t reply and, instead, walked around me, heading for my car. I smiled at her back and followed her.

  She didn’t speak the entire forty-minute drive, but when I parked, she sighed, knowing she’d have to talk to me as she looked around in confusion. “Why are we here?”

  “I thought I’d hang out with my best friend. Is that okay with you?” Before she could answer, I turned toward the scattered screams and hustle-bustle lying ahead, knowing she’d follow. Since it was the Friday before school started, the beach and boardwalk at Coney Island were full of people trying to catch the last rays of their summer fun.

  Lou still had her arms crossed and her mouth in a flat line as she looked around with disinterest. I chuckled knowing it wouldn’t be easy thawing her.

  I stopped at the first food stand we came across and turned to her. “Hungry?”

  She shrugged while refusing to meet my gaze, and I held back a grin. Spotting a ridiculously long, beef hot dog, an idea formed, so I ordered one. We spent about five minutes maneuvering through the crowd until we found an empty bench near the beach. I straddled the bench , and she did the same, but then I pulled her close until her bare knees touched mine, and handed her the hot dog.

  Her eyes widened as she looked from me to the hot do
g and back again. “I can’t eat all of this!”

  “I’ll help you.”

  Her gaze turned wary, but when I made no sudden moves, she sighed and began nibbling the end closest to her mouth. I waited until her third or fourth bite before I chomped down on the end facing me. She paused, and her gaze widened again as she stared at me over the hot dog.

  She hurriedly swallowed the portion she’d been chewing before asking, “What are you doing?”

  “Eating my half,” I answered with the obvious.

  “We can just split it in half.”

  “It will make too big of a mess,” I pointed out. Which was why I requested for it to be fully loaded.

  “Well, can’t you just wait until I’m done?”

  “I could, but I’m hungry now.” And for more than just food.

  She tried to hand over the hot dog. “Then take it. I can wait.”

  I breathed out through my nose and pinned her with my gaze. When I spoke, my tone made it clear that I wasn’t fucking around. “Eat, Louchana.”

  Her nostrils flared, and when I pinched her hip, not realizing my hand was still there, she took another bite. Our gazes never strayed the entire time we shared the hot dog, and I was relieved my plan had worked. I didn’t want her running from me, taking parts of herself away. Just this once, I allowed myself to get lost within her eyes, and I could tell she did the same.

  We were nearing the center when I spotted an exhausted-looking elderly couple looking around for a place to sit. Seeing an opportunity to get even closer to her, I quickly flagged them down and shouted, “This seat’s open!”

  Lou frowned when she glanced behind her. There was only room for maybe one of them, so without warning, I grabbed Lou and sat her in my lap. Problem solved.

  The couple shot me grateful glances before taking Lou’s vacated seat.

  “What are you doing?” she said in a panic. I would have thought she was uncomfortable with her new seat if she hadn’t grabbed my shoulders and immediately wrapped her legs around me as if I were dangling her off a cliff. I guess in a way I was.