by K. V. Rose
“Yep,” he says again. We walk for a while, then take an elevator to the top floor of the parking deck, until finally he pulls out his keys and unlocks a white Range Rover across from us.
He opens my door, nodding for me to get in.
“So chivalrous,” I tease him.
He looks at me a second then his hand wraps around my throat and he pulls me close to him, his brow against mine. My breath catches as his eyes stare into mine.
“Not quite, Princess,” he answers, and then his tongue enters my mouth, parting my lips. After a second, I kiss him back, leaning in closer, wanting more of him.
But he tears away, winking at me and shutting the door.
Bastard.
“Where are we going?” I ask when he hops in the driver’s side. I put my purse on the floor between my feet.
He carefully drives down the ramp then merges onto the highway. I’m shocked to see bumper-to-bumper traffic so early in the morning, but he doesn’t seem fazed. He still hasn’t answered my question and I reach over the console, putting my hand on his.
I feel him stiffen under me and a blush comes to my cheeks. Maybe that was…stupid? Sure, we might be hooking up and yeah, he flew me to Toronto for the day, but that doesn’t really mean anything. He hasn’t asked to meet my parents once, he hasn’t told me what he does for work, and I know next to nothing about him, aside from the fact he has a substance problem.
He seems to have relaxed on this idea that some dude is trying to hurt Riley, but he hasn’t let her on campus alone, so maybe not. And he refused to leave me alone, which somehow makes me feel…good?
I start to pull my hand away, feeling embarrassed, but then his fingers wrap around mine, and something loosens in my chest, but I keep staring straight ahead.
“I’ve got to take care of something,” he finally says, his tone guarded.
“What?”
“Business.”
I groan. “You just told me fuck all,” I protest.
He squeezes my fingers gently. “I know.” He sounds almost as if he regrets that. “When I’m done, we’ll go eat.” He glances over at me. “You ever been to Toronto?”
I shake my head, letting his cryptic answer go for now. He’s taking me with him after all, I’ll see for myself what he has to take care of.
He smiles. “It’s like NYC. But better.”
I like the sound of that.
Seventeen
Watching Ava watch the skyline of Toronto makes me feel pretty damn proud of this magical city, even if where we’re walking right now is anything but magic. She has no idea where we’re going and even if I wanted to tell her—which I don’t—I couldn’t. In essence, it’s just a members-only winery with a passcode. She’ll be going in with me, which will be clue enough to anyone that might be here at eight in the morning that they should keep their voices low, but I can’t really tell her anything even if she’ll see it with her own eyes.
I loop my arm through hers and we walk down an alley and I can’t help but think of when I cornered Riley in one not that long ago, and the two homeless men Caden decked that I dragged away, so when they woke up, they would be far, far away from where he knocked them out at.
I don’t regret cornering Riley. I think the shit we did to her made her stronger. Made her so she’ll never be like Bianca was, which is a fucked-up thing to think, but it is what it is. But if Caden ever cornered Ava…I’d fuck him up.
I punch in the code outside of the nondescript door at the back of the alley.
“What is this?” Ava whispers beside me. I don’t know why she’s whispering but it’s kind of cute.
“Just business,” I answer her.
The door clicks and I pull the handle and push her inside, making sure the door latches closed behind us before we walk down the dim hall. She shuffles beside me, twisting her head this way and that, taking everything in. There’s not much to see here, just red walls and tile floors. At the end of the hall, I reach into my pocket, pull out a key, and unlock the glass door.
Once we’re in, I unthread my arm from Ava’s and walk across the room. It looks kind of like a living room and it kind of is. There’s an unlit fireplace, a few couches around a coffee table, and even a television which isn’t on. No one, thankfully, is in here. I push open a door and enter a mail room, Ava trailing cautiously behind me. I pull another key from my pocket and open one of the boxes, pulling out a single white envelope.
I open it, purposefully turning so I’m facing Ava, so she can’t see what’s on the printed page inside the envelope.
It’s just a name, a date, and an address. She wouldn’t understand it even if she saw it, but I’m not protecting the information from her. I’m protecting her from the information. There are cameras everywhere in here.
It’s something I’m really damn good at.
Watching when no one else is. Sometimes it fucks me over, but I can’t seem to stop.
I lock the mailbox back, crumple up the paper, and slide it in my pocket. Felix will be happy, we’ll get paid, and someone will die.
It’s usually how my life works.
“Ready?” I ask Ava, who’s watching me carefully.
She’s wearing a silver sweater, sheer tights on under her skirt. I want to rip it all off, shove her against this wall, but I clench my fists, holding back.
Cameras.
She nods. “What was on the paper?” she asks as I lock up and lead us out of here.
I laugh. “You think I’m really going to tell you?” I challenge her as I take her hand when we hit the alley again.
She shrugs. “Maybe.”
“No chance, Princess.”
She huffs but doesn’t say anything, and we end up inside a brunch spot called Zaxs, and in minutes, she’s got a mimosa in front of her and I’ve got water. It’s already crowded even though it’s a damn Tuesday, but we’ve got a table in a private room, although the door is open so I still feel like we’re part of the crowd, and I can still see and hear the people dining through the door.
After the waitress takes our order—one of everything, because why the fuck not? —I excuse myself because I’ve gotta piss. I drank far too many bottles of water on the plane here. Besides that, the letter in my pocket needs to be disposed of properly.
As I head to the bathroom, someone calls my name at my back. But I think it must be me hearing things over the noise of this restaurant, because that voice...she wouldn’t dare.
I take another step toward the restroom.
And then Bianca says my name again.
Instinct forces me to turn around, because for years, I was there when she called me. And she was there when I needed her.
Until she wasn’t.
When my gaze meets hers, I want to turn and run.
Because Ava is here.
Because of what I know Bianca is capable of doing to me. Because when we were both broken—her from a mother that never wanted her and me from parents that made sure I knew they were never really mine—we put each other back together again.
But she walks toward me, and she’s wearing dark jeans and a red, silk blouse that makes her brown skin look perfect.
It is perfect.
Her hair is up, wisps of black strands around her face, and those dark eyes are glued to mine. She looks skinnier than the last time I saw her, the swell of her hips smaller. I wonder if she’s still modeling. Or still using.
Her face isn’t broken. Her neck doesn’t have bruises.
“Benji,” she says a little breathlessly, in that throaty voice I could never get enough of. We weren’t faithful in the usual sense. Our appetites were too big for that. But when she was moaning my name, I didn’t give a damn.
Even still, it’s not Ava’s Southern accent and it doesn’t do to me what it once did.
I swallow. “Bianca.” What else am I supposed to say?
She’s a few inches from me in this dim hallway and I glance beyond her, wondering what Ava is doing right now, t
hankful I got us the private room. Grateful she won’t see me here, like this.
“It’s been so long,” Bianca breathes.
Yeah. It sure as hell has. Three years.
“Yeah.” I slip my hands in my pockets, one hand touching the note I crumpled up.
Her eyes roam over my forearms where my sleeves are pushed up, to the tattoos there, then up my chest, finally resting on my eyes again. She takes another step. I can smell her. Some perfume that smells like candy that she always wore, when she was mine. When I was hers.
Before she fucked me up.
“I’m sorry I never—”
I laugh darkly, cutting off her words. “Never visited me in the prison you put me in?”
Her eyes narrow and she cocks her head, her hoop earrings swinging as she does.
“That’s not fair.”
Did she really just say that? This time, I take a step toward her, backing her against the wall. But I don’t dare touch her.
“Really, Bianca?” I ask her quietly. “You wanna have a discussion with me about fairness?” My heart slams in my chest, anger making my blood pressure rise. I don’t let myself think about what I saw. The cameras. Her. Any of it. But even though I’m blocking out the past, she’s here. Right now.
The present.
She runs her tongue along her bottom lip. She likes this, me in her face. Her back against the wall.
I close my eyes against the memories of her that are fighting to come in. My hands on her skin. Her legs wrapped around my waist. Her in that bathtub…
No.
My eyes open when I hear her laugh. “I was in a bad place, Benji. And you were too busy—”
I slam my fist against the wall beside her head. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
She glares at me. “You know you were. You neglected me, Benji.”
Bullshit. Everything I did had been for her, but she knows that. I don’t bother giving her the satisfaction of saying it out loud. She swallows and I’m breathing hard.
“But things are different now, B. I’m clean. We could,” she chews on her bottom lip, “we could try again.”
She reaches a hand out to my chest, trailing a finger down before she yanks my shirt and pulls me closer.
I can barely breathe.
She stands on her tiptoes and presses her mouth against my neck. “You’re mine, Benji Silva. You’ll always be mine.” She kisses my neck again. “Seeing you here… God, I’m so sorry for what I did to us. I’m so sorry for what you had to go through.” Her tongue flicks against my skin. “But I will never forget what you did for me. No one will ever compare to you, Benji. And I know you wouldn’t do that again. You wouldn’t hurt someone so badly, not for any other girl in this world. You’re mine, Benji, and I’m yours.” Her hand trails lower, over my soft cock. “I’ve always been yours.”
I close my eyes again, the memory of her in that bathtub, broken and bruised, assaulting my brain. Of before, when we were fucking insane in love. When we clung to each other.
But another memory crowds in. The videos of her, with him, fucking in our house.
When I open my eyes again, I yank her hand off of my cock and shove her back against the wall, my hand on her collarbone, scrunching up the silk of her shirt.
“Don’t you ever fucking touch me again, Bianca. Because you’re wrong. There is someone else I’d hurt for. Someone I’d kill for. Hell, I’d probably do it for anyone, if they paid me enough.” I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Except for you, B. It never will be you again. So next time you see me, look the other way.” I let her go and step back. “You are nothing to me. Fucking nothing.”
And then, out of the corner of my eye, I see Ava watching us.
Bianca sees her too, and we both turn to look at her. Before I can get my mouth to fucking work properly again, Ava’s lip trembles and then she turns on her heel and walks away, and I’ve got a sinking feeling she isn’t walking back to our table.
Eighteen
I should have known.
I saw his hands on her, her mouth on his neck. Saw him breathe her in, his eyes closed tight as if he could barely resist her.
And I can’t even blame him.
She was fucking gorgeous. If she isn’t actually a model, she sure as fuck could be.
I hear him calling my name at my back, but I don’t dare turn around. Instead, I dig my phone out of my purse as I walk away from the swanky brunch place that doesn’t come close to existing in Briar. I find Tess’s number and I’m about to press ‘Call’, when someone yanks the phone from my hand.
I open my mouth to scream at Benji, by my side, when he clamps his hand over my mouth and pushes me into the side street beside us, away from the crowd streaming down the sidewalk. He presses my back against the wall, just like he had with that woman. Maybe that’s his go-to.
I try to shove him off of me, clawing and pushing at his chest, but he doesn’t budge. He’s breathing hard, staring down at me, one hand beside my head, the other putting my phone in his back pocket.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks me, his voice low.
“Get off me,” I snap, still beating at his chest, even though I know it’s fucking fruitless. Benji is like a brick wall.
I drop my hands to my sides. “Get off me,” I say again, “or I’m going to scream.”
His eyes flick down to my mouth and then back up. “Go ahead,” he taunts me. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”
My eyes narrow. “Are you threatening me?”
He breathes out a low, dark laugh. “No, Princess. I’m telling you what’s going to happen.”
I push myself further against the brick wall at my back, knowing it’s picking at my sweater and not giving a damn. The anger coursing through my veins makes me want to scream and I don’t even know why. We’re not exclusive. We’re not even dating, not really. We’re…friends? Fuck buddies? I don’t know what we are, but whatever it is, it isn’t anything for me to be this angry over.
Even still…
“Why don’t you go back to your girlfriend, Benji?” I taunt him, my arms across my chest as if that’ll protect me from whatever this conversation is going to bring.
He arches a brow. “Is that what you want?”
He doesn’t even deny it. I feel like I’m going to be sick. I open my mouth then snap it closed. What the fuck am I supposed to say right now?
“You want me to go find her? Go shove her against the wall again, fuck her instead, Princess?” He moves his hand from beside my head and steps back, giving me room. “If that’s what you want…”
“Fuck you,” I scream at him, but I don’t move. I want to know what the fuck is going on. “You piece of shit,” I spit. “I have to babysit your ass last night, you force me to fly here, meet with her, and you have the fucking balls to talk to me like this!” I step forward, pushing my finger into his chest. He just watches me, impassive, which pisses me off even more. “Why did you bring me here? Why are you so goddamn weird? What the fuck is going on with Riley and Caden and why do you watch her like a fucking hawk? Why did you spend the night with me that night, and what threat has you so on edge?”
He arches a brow. “I’m on edge?” he taunts me, dipping his chin, his hazel eyes gleaming in the sun streaming in through the alley.
“Don’t you turn this around on me.” But even as I say the words, some of the fight goes out of me. I just want to go home. I want to be with Mom. I don’t even know why I agreed to come here at all. I don’t know why I bothered to help Benji last night. I didn’t tell my Dad I was leaving the damn country, I only told Tess, and if something were to happen to Mom while I’m here…
I run my hands through my hair. This was stupid.
“Hey, hey,” Benji says quietly, his hands resting on my shoulders. I look up at him and he cocks his head. “Talk to me. What’re you thinking right now?”
I throw up my hands. Is this guy serious? “I just told you what I was thinking,” I say thr
ough clenched teeth. “Why did you bring me here?”
His fingers curl around my shoulders and he doesn’t look away from me, but he doesn’t speak either, not for a long moment. Finally, he lets me go, slides his hands into his pockets and smiles at me. It doesn’t meet his eyes.
“You really wanna know about me, Ava?” he asks me. His words are emotionless. I don’t know if he’s taunting me or actually asking me. “You think you want to know who I am? What I do? Why I’m always on Riley’s ass?”
“Yeah,” I say, annoyed. “I really do.” I’ve known him for a couple of months now and I have no idea what his life is like outside of going to clubs, living across from Riley, mixing substances, and being overprotective as shit, just like Caden is. If I was honest with myself, I could admit that I’m jealous. Of seeing the two of them follow Riley around like her own personal entourage. Caden is madly in love with her and I’m not so sure Benji isn’t too.
“Your mom,” Benji starts, watching me carefully, “is she on a feeding tube?”
He knows she’s in bed and she won’t ever leave. It’s not exactly a hard thing to guess at, but what it matters right now, I don’t know.
I swallow down the lump in my throat and nod, unsure of what to say.
He watches me a second longer, unspeaking. Then he turns and starts to walk away.
“Let’s go,” he says when he doesn’t hear me following him. Reluctantly, I do, wondering if I’m going to regret wanting to get to know the real Benji.
He drives us out of the city, turning down a road that seems to be full of nothing but dead grass. There are no houses, no stores, nothing for a ten-minute stretch in which we don’t speak. We haven’t spoken at all since we got in the Range Rover.
Finally, I see a brick building up ahead. It’s pretty big and reminds me of an apartment complex, but there’s only the one building. There’s an expansive parking lot behind it, and Benji pulls in. I try to read the sign out front, but the letters are faded.
“What is this?” I ask quietly, taking it in. I see two people in what looks like scrubs out front the main entrance, smoking, as we drive to the parking lot.
