DARE SERIES COLLECTION

by Tessier, Shantel

I WALK AWAY from the SUV, not really knowing what I’m doing but needing a moment. Needing a fucking minute to think without her voice in my head. Her words choke me. She’s still there. Ever since Monday night when I pinned her down in the cemetery and told her to fight me. Her words did more damage than her body could have ever done to me.

  And what she told me about her mom and her boyfriend? Those words play over and over. Her words make me angry. Remembering those tears makes me hard.

  It’s no secret I love a fight. But to fight over a girl? Never happened before except when we threw her that party at my house. I fought Bryan because he put his hands on her. And then he went and dared his friend to fuck her.

  I beat his ass. Just as Deke beat Christopher’s. But everyone knows why Deke did what he did. He’s falling for Becky. It’s getting serious. He is completely fucking obsessed with her. I’m just fucking Austin because I can. I’m just using her because it’s convenient and pisses her father off. I’m going to make that motherfucker pay in every way I can think of. And Austin ups the ante. Mine to control. Mine to fuck. And mine to use.

  You say that, but she is in your head.

  I’m starting to care. Even I can’t lie to myself about that. Because if I didn’t, I would have already called Bruce and told him to fuck our deal. But I can’t send her back. I won’t send her back. She’s mine. She belongs here with me.

  I hear the door open to the Range Rover behind me, but I ignore it. The road starts to curve, and as I round it, I come to a stop once I realize where I’m at.

  Skid marks cut through the double yellow lines and three, white wooden crosses stand over in the ditch. Each name written vertically—Maddox, Landen, and Eli.

  And just like that, I’m pulled back to that night six months ago.

  “Please … Cole. Aimee needs you …”

  “She has you,” I say, falling beside him in the ditch once again. They’re dead. Maddox still lies in the street, and I found Landen over behind the car. They’re both dead! I can’t lose him too.

  His hands grip my bloody shirt. “You have to help her. Save her.” Tears roll down his face, and I can’t hold mine back.

  There’s a knot in my throat, and I nod my head quickly.

  “Promise … me.”

  “I promise.”

  I stare at the three crosses, my breath caught in my throat. And my chest is tight. I imagine mine being next to his. Where it deserves to be. I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t save Aimee. And I sure as hell couldn’t save my mother.

  I’m fucking useless!

  “Cole?”

  I close my eyes when I hear her call my name.

  Fuck! I fist my cracked knuckles. She’s another reminder that I fuck up everything I touch. I once told her that I love to destroy pretty, innocent things. And that was the truth. To me, things are more beautiful broken. Anyone can love something that is pure and whole—perfect. But destroy something, then stand back and see how many people give it the time of day. Or how many will take the time to help it heal. No one will. I know from experience. I’ve seen it. I’ve lived it. I want to do that to her. I don’t want anyone to want her when I’m finished with her. I want to ruin Austin Lowes. More than she already is.

  “What are you …?” Her voice trails off, and I feel her come to stand next to me. Her arm brushing mine.

  I don’t open my eyes. I don’t dare look at her.

  “Let’s go,” I manage to grind out and spin around, once again keeping my back to her. I make my way to the SUV and climb in. I look in the back seat and see Deke sitting up against the window with Becky’s head in his lap. She’s passed out asleep. His eyes go from mine to the windshield, and he swallows. He knows where we are. He helped me place those crosses there. The door opens, and Austin gets in without saying a word. I put the SUV in drive and pull back onto the road.

  AUSTIN

  If you had asked me three weeks ago what I thought of Cole Reynolds, I would have told you that I thought he was the devil himself! I hated him with every part of me.

  If you asked me now, I would say that from what I have seen, he was dealt a shitty hand. His mother died. He raises his little sister. And he lost three best friends from a mistake he made.

  I could feel his sadness when I stood beside him and stared at the three crosses. It took me a second for my drunk eyes to understand what I was looking at, but when it hit me, it took my breath away. He stood there and stared at the road like it was happening all over again. I felt his pain, and it was crippling.

  I wanted to ask him about it. To know what happened. What he saw. Is that what made him so angry with the world? Did he try to save them and just not succeed? Becky said that the EMT found Cole sitting in the ditch with Eli in his arms. What were their last words? Did they get any? Did he die on impact? How did the other three die but Cole not? I’m sure that’s a question he asks himself all the time. I know I would.

  Cole gets my attention as he pulls up to a gated community. He presses a device on the visor, and the gate opens. He pulls in and passes house after house that looks bigger than my father’s mansion. They sit back off the two-lane road, hidden behind rows of trees. He slows down and pulls into a driveway.

  “Just stop here,” Deke says from the back seat.

  Cole doesn’t question him. He brings the SUV to a stop, and Deke speaks. “Just bring me the car tomorrow.”

  I turn around to watch him pull a sleeping Becky in his arms, and then he gets out and starts to walk down the long driveway with her in his arms.

  Cole places his hand on my seat and looks back over his shoulder, ignoring the backup camera as he backs out. And then takes off down the street.

  I bury my face in my hands and cover up a yawn. I’m tired. I’m drunk, and I’m so pissed at myself because a part of me feels like I shouldn’t be mad at Cole. That was the second time he’s taken up for me and beat someone’s ass when they disrespected me. But another part of me wants to say It’s your fucking fault. You put me in those positions.

  But that wouldn’t do us any good.

  I lean my head back against the head rest and close my eyes. I feel his eyes on me, but I refuse to open them. He hasn’t spoken to me, and I have so much to say to him that if I even open my mouth to try, I’ll probably regret it. But then again, I’ve never been one to bite my tongue.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  COLE

  WE ENTER THE clubhouse, and I walk past her over to the stairs. I take them two at a time and turn on the light once I hit the landing. A big wooden log bed sits in the middle of the area. And that’s it. No TV, no dressers, no nightstands. There’s a door to my right leading to the full bath.

  She comes to the top of the stairs and looks around as I drop her bag. She hasn’t spoken since we stood in the middle of the road, but I know she wants to.

  And now that my anger has died down, I hate that I told her to go fuck Bryan. The words tasted like shit. The thought of him sleeping with her makes my stomach knot.

  “Cole—”

  “Stop,” I interrupt her.

  Her eyes narrow on me. I step to her. “Just stop talking,” I say, placing my hand in her hair. Her heavy eyes close, and she lets out a sigh. She’s drunk. And probably still pissed at me. Possibly tired. But I don’t fucking care.

  I want her!

  I lean down and press my lips to hers. She opens without thought, tilting her head back. I push my hips into hers, and she moans in my mouth. I’m so hard for her all the fucking time. It’s pathetic.

  I reach for her sweater and pull it up over her head. “Can we take a shower?” she asks.

  I’m about to say fuck a shower, but her eyes go to the blood on my hands, and I realize I just got it in her hair. “Sure.” I don’t want any part of Bryan on her. Even though I would love to paint her body red.

  We walk into the bathroom, and she looks around as I start the shower. I remove my shirt and then kick off my tennis shoes. I’m removing my jeans and boxers
when she comes up to me. I pause as she places her hands on my bare chest.

  My heart starts to pound at the softness in her touch. No one has ever touched me like she does. Like it means something. As if she could save me from myself. I’ve always been the guy who got in and got out. The girls I brought home, didn’t stay the night, and the older women I fucked, I left their house as soon as I was done. But I can’t seem to leave her. I reach up and push her hair behind her ear, exposing all the piercings. I run my thumb over them.

  She releases a long breath. “I don’t wanna fight.”

  Her words surprise me. “I don’t either,” I say, and I’m just as surprised with myself that they are the truth. I love a fight. Doesn’t matter if they are physical or mental. I love fucking with someone.

  “Can we just forget about what happened?” she asks, biting on her bottom lip nervously.

  I can’t just forget that Bryan dared his friend to fuck her. What if someone else does that? What if someone else tries to take what belongs to me? Or worse? Forces her? I know I’m a sick bastard. I know that I prefer a fight over a civil conversation, but there are others in this city just like me. Some older and some younger. “Yeah,” I tell her because I don’t want to worry her. I’ll continue to protect her no matter what the cost. Because I’m the only one who can destroy Austin Lowes.

  Right.

  She pulls away from me and goes to finish getting undressed. I turn and get into the shower, and she follows me. I stand under the sprayer, and she watches the blood run into the drain.

  I grab her arm and pull her to me. “Don’t think about it,” I tell her.

  She wraps her arms around my neck. “Then take my mind off it.”

  I capture her lips with mine and spin us around, her back hitting the wall. She gasps into my mouth at the coldness, and I deepen the kiss.

  My right hand goes to her thigh, and I grip it in my hand and lift it up, wrapping it around my hip.

  She pulls her lips away and tilts her head back. Her eyes are closed, and her wet lips are parted. I take my hard cock in my hand and slide it into her without wasting another second, and she whimpers. Fuck, I love hearing that sound when I’m inside her.

  She’s already wet for me. Just like I’m hard for her.

  She opens her heavy eyes, and she moans as I begin to move in and out of her. Slowly teasing her.

  I grab her other leg and pull it off the shower floor and push her more into the wall. She clings to me.

  “Cole,” she pants, and I pick up my pace. “Oh, God! Cole …”

  I lower my head and capture her lips with mine again, knowing that she’s mine. I get to have her. However I want, whenever I want.

  _______________

  I open my eyes to see Austin sleeping beside me. The sun shines through the one window up here and I roll over, picking my phone up off the floor to check the time. It reads a quarter past nine.

  Lying back down, I run a hand down my face. We didn’t get much sleep. We didn’t get back to the clubhouse until after two a.m. and then we spent almost an hour in the shower. And then another two awake in bed.

  Like always, I couldn’t get enough. She couldn’t seem to either, and I’m not complaining.

  “You okay?”

  I look over to my left and find a set of dark green eyes on me. I smile at her, pushing her hair back from her face. I yank the covers back and grab her arm, yanking her up to straddle me. “I am now.”

  She throws her head back laughing, and I soak it in. I’ve never heard her laugh like that. I’ve only ever seen anger from her. Or sadness. I’ve never tried to make her laugh or smile.

  I should make her do it more often.

  She straddles me, naked and beautiful. Her dark hair is down over her shoulder lying on my chest. It’s finally dry from the shower we had hours ago, and the alcohol she consumed seems to have worn off.

  Her eyes scan my chest, and her fingers graze my scar. She’s never asked about it before. “What happened?”

  “Broke my collarbone.”

  She tilts her head to the side. “How?”

  My eyes look into hers while she stares at it. “Car wreck. Seat belt tightened and snapped it on impact.”

  Her hand freezes on the scar, and her eyes meet mine. She stares at me so intently that my pulse quickens.

  “You lied.”

  My eyes narrow at the accusation in her voice. “Excuse me?”

  “You lied,” she repeats.

  “About what?” I demand.

  “You weren’t driving.”

  I tense at her words. She searches my eyes and sighs heavily, her breath brushing her hair from my chest. “Who were you covering for?”

  “Enough!”

  “No, Cole. Why did you lie?” she demands.

  I grip her hips, my fingertips digging into her skin, and shove her off me. I stand, running a hand through my hair and walking toward the bathroom.

  “You couldn’t have been driving,” she whispers. “It’s your right shoulder. Not your left. You lied …”

  I close my eyes. It took her two seconds to realize what no one else ever did. I was in a sling for months. My right arm was. Not my left. No one ever questioned it.

  “Why would you lie, Cole?”

  “Don’t, Austin.”

  “No!” she shouts. “Fucking tell me why you would lie about something like that,” she demands. “People think you killed three of your friends.”

  “I fucking know what they think!” I shout, turning to face her. “Who the hell do you think told them that?” I snap.

  “Why?” She’s on her knees in the middle of my bed. Her long dark hair over one shoulder, covering one of her breasts from me, and she’s breathing heavy. Her eyes soft and my chest tightens.

  “Get out!”

  “It was Eli … That’s why you …”

  “I said get the fuck out, Austin,” I snap, interrupting her.

  “No.”

  I fist my hands, and her eyes drop to them.

  “Becky said everyone was ejected. But you had your seat belt on …” She shakes her head confused. “I don’t understand …”

  I storm over to the bed and shove her onto her back, pinning her small wrists to the mattress. “You don’t need to understand what I did, or why I did it. It’s no one’s Goddamn business, Austin.”

  She looks up at me, eyes soft. I’m fucking panting, and my heart races. I hate being exposed. So open. Guarded people are safe. But she keeps stabbing me. Making me bleed. Her eyes search my face, and I see tears in them. My jaw clenches.

  “Cole,” she whispers. “I’m sorry.”

  My chest tightens to the point I can’t breathe.

  “I’m sorry that no one sees you like I do. I’m sorry that no one understands your rage. Or your hate.”

  “Stop …” I choke on the word. She’s twisting the knife. Cutting me more.

  She wraps her legs around my hips. “I’m sorry that you lost three friends. And that you are left with a burden that is not yours to bear.” Her tears spill out and down the sides of her face.

  AUSTIN

  He lied!

  He let this town believe he killed three teenage boys who were all his friends when he wasn’t at fault.

  “Were you even drinking?” I ask.

  I can feel his body physically shaking against mine. He’s angry with me. Angry I figured out a secret.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says instead. “You weren’t there.”

  “I didn’t have to be there to know that you weren’t responsible for their deaths.”

  “Stop, Austin!” he yells in my face.

  “Do the guys know?” I ask as another tear runs down the side of my face.

  He doesn’t answer.

  “Becky also told me that Kellan blames you. Why didn’t you tell him the truth?”

  My heart breaks for him. Not only did he lose his friends, but he also took responsibility when it wasn’t
his.

  He lets go of my wrists and crawls off me, forcing my legs apart. He sits on the side of the bed, his back toward me and bows his head.

  I swallow and sit up. “I know that you felt you did the right thing, but Cole …”

  He jumps up and spins around to face me. My words cut off at the look on his face. I’ve never seen it so murderous. “Don’t you dare sit there and pretend like you know why I did what I did,” he snaps as he leans over and picks his jeans up off the floor. He yanks them up and buttons them. Then he takes off down the stairs.

  I sit here, waiting to hear the door open and close, but it doesn’t come. I get off the bed and take the sheet with me, wrapping it around my shoulders. I walk down the stairs to find him standing in the middle of the room. His hands fisted in front of him as he punches the punching bag that hangs from the rafters.

  “Tell me,” I say softly. “Help me understand.”

  He ignores me. His breathing grows louder as he pounds away on it. His cuts from last night have already busted open from the force.

  I drop my head to look at my hands knotted in the sheet, holding it in place. I lick my wet lips and taste my tears. “I was ten the first time my mom’s boyfriend touched me.” He stops at my words. Like I wanted him to. “At the time, I didn’t understand what he was doing.” I swallow the knot in my throat. “I was sitting on the couch. He sat down next to me and placed his hand on my inner thigh.” I look up at him through my lashes. His back is toward me, and his head is down. “I didn’t know what to do. It felt uncomfortable. Wrong. But he was telling me that I was pretty. No one had ever told me that before.” The muscles in his back tighten. “Then his fingers started digging into my skin painfully. I told him he was hurting me. I tried to push him away, but his grip kept tightening. He said that I’d learn to love pain. It was a way he would show me that he cared about me.” He slowly turns around to face me, and I look him in the eyes. Not backing down like I wanted to when we stood by the pool. “Loved me.” He swallows, and his Adam’s apple bobs.

  “That’s when my mother walked in. She saw us, and she ran over to me, grabbed my arm, and yanked me from the couch. She sent me to my room for the rest of the day.” His chest rises and falls from breathing heavy. His jaw is sharp, and nostrils flared. “She said that he belonged to her. That my father had already left her because of me. She wouldn’t let her bitch of a daughter take another one from her.” A tear silently falls down my cheek, but it’s for him, not for me. I came to terms with my life a long time ago.