Untouchable: (Unstoppable - Book 1) (The Unstoppable Series)

by Danielle Hill

  “Fucking look at me,” I ground out.

  Wary eyes lifted to mine. “I didn't touch her, man. She was fucking wasted when I saw her. Nothing to do with us. Her friend showed up right after and stayed with her the whole time, tried to get her to leave. I didn’t fucking touch her.”

  Eyes narrowed to slits, I hauled him closer, until my mouth was at his ear. “Bull. Shit. Your slimy hands were all over her when I walked over here. You ever put your hands on my girl again, I’ll rip your fucking arm off. First and last warning. This time, I’ll settle for breaking a few fingers.”

  “What?” he sputtered. Then his head reared back as my heel smashed down onto his hand. He slammed his eyes shut and a cry of agony erupted from his open mouth.

  As we walked off the makeshift battlefield, an image of Riley being carried away from me, crying and screaming, seared itself into my brain, right alongside the image of that asshole's arm around her. That one came with the realization that, if I was serious about letting her go, I’d have to figure out a way to be okay with her being with some other guy. The thought tore a hole straight through my fucking chest. On what fucking planet would I ever be okay with that? Based on my reaction tonight, it sure as shit wasn’t this one.

  And I had zero ideas about what the fuck that meant for me. For us.

  Thirty-One

  Riley

  My body tensed at the sound of tires grinding over asphalt. I twisted my head to peer through the window. Trepidation hung over me like a black cloud. Reno’s furious, blood-stained face emerged from the passenger side door and my heart clenched. Swivelling back to front, my eyes touched briefly on Liss' concerned ones before I let them drop to my lap. They zoned in on my clasped hands, on the mud caked fingers rubbing over each other anxiously.

  I’d fucked up.

  I’d drank way too much, got talking to a Dalton guy, and saw an opportunity to escape reality for a minute. I’d just wanted a break, from the grief, the sadness, from the constant struggle and hurting, all the things that seemed to be weighing down on me, growing heavier by the day. I’d wanted carefree, easy. I’d wanted to stop feeling like I was butting my head against a brick wall. By the time Craig Mateland had slowed to a crawl and stuck his head out of the driver’s side window, whistling low between pursed lips as I made my way to Liss' place on wobbly legs, I’d already had a nice buzz going on. Thanks to the half bottle of my mom’s cheap vodka I’d downed while getting dressed. On an empty stomach.

  I could try to blame my shitty choices on impaired judgement. But there before me was a guy who had zero problems. Every single thing about him highlighted that fact. His fancy car and preppy clothes, carefree extra white smile and easy laugh. Light, fluffy, flirty. It had drawn me in like a firefly to something bright and shiny. I’d wanted that. For one night. Not him… that. I’d wanted to forget all the crap. He’d offered a ride and reached across to push open the passenger door. Next thing I knew, I’d sank my ass down onto the plush leather of the seat and we’d sped down the highway to the West side of Richmond. Alarm bells had sounded, a whiny little voice had piped up with a warning, trying to ruin my fun. I’d blanked them both, ignored it all. I knew what was goddamn best for me. People kept making decisions about my life without asking me what I wanted. So, I’d taken matters into my own hands.

  God knew how many drinks later, edging toward fall down drunk, I’d found my mind consumed by one thing: Reno. My attempt to escape had backfired spectacularly. Thoughts of him had plagued me like a demon. My mind had replayed the way his eyes always darted past mine instead of looking into them now. The way he avoided touching me, sitting too close or even talking to me. How he didn’t smile at me anymore. It had just gone... poof. His smirk. God, even the smirk, the one that used to drive me insane, had vanished. I’d pay anything to see the smirk now. I missed it; I missed him. So damn much my heart felt like it was shrinking, slowly draining of vitality and shrivelling up like a prune inside me.

  And then Liss had started blowing up my phone, wondering where the hell I was. I guess I’d answered. And then I guess she’d called Reno, or Leon, or someone. Then, somehow, Reno had appeared, like a figment of my imagination, as if my brain had conjured him up. My tiny deflated heart had inflated so rapidly it had swelled against my rib cage, banging frantically as it soared into overdrive. God, my reaction to seeing him there, like a mirage in the desert. I was fucking elated. Happy enough to burst.

  Then I’d remembered. He didn’t want me anymore. He didn’t want me bulldozing my way into his life, helping him through his grief, supporting him. He wanted me gone. So, there I fucking was. Except, so was he. And Leon. And then...

  My eyes squeezed shut against the memory, my dirty fingertips going to my temples and pressing hard, but I saw it all. Reno’s body going down, multiple guys beating on him with their fists and feet. Biting my lip until I tasted blood, I battled to dispel the images from my head as my pulse thundered under my skin. I couldn’t unsee it. I couldn’t stop seeing it. I already knew he was okay, but he could have been seriously hurt. And Leon, Mack, and Danny. That was on me. My poor choices, my selfishness, my goddamned self-pity.

  God! What the fuck had I hoped to achieve?

  The door to Leon’s trailer squeaked on its hinges. Dropping my hands from the sides of my head without looking up, I inhaled uneasily, my throat rough and swollen. The result of a combination of raw emotion and twenty minutes of screaming at Jason to find out if Reno was okay on the drive back.

  “Nice to see you’re all in one piece.” That was Liss. Standing by the counter diagonally opposite my position on the couch.

  Leon moved through the door, then Reno. I could hear the others outside, what sounded like a short boom of laughter erupted, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. They all sounded fine. That didn’t assuage my guilt.

  “Aww see, I knew you cared. It’s just so damn hard to tell when you keep it buried right down under that stinking attitude of yours.”

  Liss scoffed. “Let me rephrase then, nice to see you’re all in one piece... except for you, Leon. You could stand to take a few hard hits to the head, couldn’t hurt anything up there, might even fix some stuff. And you know,” she mused, finger tapping her chin, her gaze narrowed accusingly, “the rest of these guys look like they actually took part, got their hands dirty, yet you’re looking remarkably unscathed. What did you do... hide behind them?”

  Leon tutted. “You know I could walk onto Daltons’ field blindfolded with one arm tied behind my back, and still hand every one of those fucking boat-shoe-wearing motherfuckers their asses.”

  “Wow. Do you hear yourself when you say this shit? Does it sound different in your head? Like what is it you’re hearing in that tiny little brain? Does it sound all gangsta or something? Because that shit really doesn’t suit you.”

  Leon’s head tilted, hands on his hips. “Underestimate me at your peril, Alissa.”

  “My peril? What even is that?”

  “It means—”

  “I know what it means, dipshit. I meant, who says shit like that? You know what, actually? I don’t care.”

  “You say that, but when there’s trouble, who do you call?”

  “Ghostbusters?” Liss deadpanned.

  I felt a smile pull at my lips, then immediately wiped it off my face.

  “Oh, she’s a fucking comedian now. I ain’t buying it, sweetheart. You needed muscle?” I saw him flex exaggeratedly out of the corner of my eye. “You called me. But hey, no worries, I’ll keep my gangsta ass out of it next time you wander onto enemy territory drunk off your ass, tryna get yourself fucking gang raped or some shit—”

  Leon broke off abruptly and his eyes darted to me. I flinched, feeling the impact of his words. He'd aimed it at Liss, but we all knew why she’d wound up on Baker's field, and it wasn’t because she was the idiot in the room. Silence descended like a lead weight.

  “I didn’t mean it like that, Ri.”

  I nodded. But
it was what they were all thinking. What we were all thinking. And now I could feel everyone’s eyes fixed on me, like a bunch of those little red dots, piercing my skin like lasers. I wanted to apologize, but I felt so embarrassed and remorseful, I could barely find it in me to raise my head. When the combined weight of their stares and the awkward silence became unbearable, my dry lips parted to speak. Someone beat me to it.

  “Give us a minute.”

  Reno’s voice had the unique ability to simultaneously soothe and stimulate me in equal measures. I couldn’t explain it. There were the times it thrilled me, aroused me, excited me, then there were the times it pissed me off, irritated and angered me. But no matter what, just hearing the deep timbre of it, that husky and familiar baritone, knowing that he was there, flushed my body with a comforting warmth regardless of what was coming out of his mouth. And now, even knowing how badly I’d screwed up, knowing how supremely pissed he was, knowing I owed him an explanation I didn’t really understand or want to voice out loud, I felt that comfort rush through me as his words carried through the compact space.

  “That okay with you, Ri?” Liss asked.

  Glancing up through my lashes, I nodded my head. With a sigh, she came to stand by me, unfolded her arms and wrapped them around my shoulders.

  “Listen,” she spoke quietly, “you feel like shit. I know that, but cut yourself some slack.” Her grip tightened when I pulled away, her head easing back so our eyes met for a beat before hers flicked across to where Reno and Leon hovered just inside the door. When her gaze came back to me, her voice rose, and I knew it was for their benefit. “You got wasted, made a crappy decision, and you know it. But big deal. We’ve all been there. And it’s not like you asked me to get myself involved, or Deontay Wilder over there to come running in throwing fists. We did what we did because we care, and you’d do the same if the situation was reversed. So, yeah, you screwed up, but don’t crucify yourself, Ri... or let anyone else.”

  Her words were for me, but her blue gaze traveled back to the door, carrying a none too subtle warning. With that she marched to the door, Leon hot on her heels. The bickering picked up before they’d stepped outside, her harshly whispered reprimand just loud enough to hear—Christ, you’re a fucking moron—before the door closed.

  If the silence was awkward before, it was almost unbearable now. Moments passed, neither of us speaking or moving. I didn’t know if he was waiting for me, if I was waiting for him, or if neither of us knew where the hell to begin. Swallowing hard, I peered up at him. He resembled carved granite, tense body, clenched jaw, hands like stones by his sides. His crumpled clothes were mud-stained and streaks of dried blood painted his skin. I noticed a bruise forming on his jaw.

  “Ren,” I rasped, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know Liss would call you. I never would have—”

  His head snapped to mine, and I quit talking instantly, taken aback by the intensity darkening his eyes until they were nearly black. He literally bristled with rage. The boy was livid.

  “Did they do anything to you?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I hadn’t been there long before Liss arrived. I was drunk, and stupid...” I answered, my voice trailing off as his gaze somehow darkened even further.

  He bit out a curse, dropping his hands to his hips. His body pulsed with anger as he stared right into me. “What the fuck were you thinking?” he demanded, voice hard.

  I lowered my gaze and whispered quietly, “I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking.” I’d been trying to avoid thinking.

  He exhaled roughly. “Was this about last week? Were you planning to fuck one of them to get back at me?”

  Almost immediately the words left his mouth, the guilt and humiliation receded, replaced by a hot wave of anger.

  My chin lifted. “Why would I bother? Why would I even think it would matter to you? You don’t care about me, right? You want me to stay out of your life.” I broke off, agitated, rising from the sofa to stand against the kitchen counter, my arms lifting at my sides. “Why did you even go there, huh? What do you care if I fuck every single one of the—”

  He didn’t let me finish. His furious face was inches from mine before I could blink. His big body loomed over me, pressing my lower back into the counter. “They could have fucking raped you, Riley. Do you fucking understand that?” he grated.

  He looked to be on the verge of losing his shit. He didn’t scare me. I knew he’d never hurt me... physically, at least. Leon’s trailer might suffer some damage if I didn’t get him to calm down, though. Yet... I had finally provoked a reaction. Maybe I wanted him to explode.

  I swallowed roughly, my clammy fingers slipping on the smooth surface behind me as my heart threatened to escape its confines. I didn’t know where the words came from, but I kept my head up and held his stare. “Only if I wasn’t willing, right?”

  His head flung back like I’d struck him, his expression bordering on homicidal as his breaths heaved in and out. He was barely holding himself in check. Through gritted teeth, his jaw ticking like crazy, he said, “So that’s what you wanted tonight? That's why you went there... to fuck one of them?”

  His anger had been front and center, eclipsing everything else, from the moment he’d stepped through the doorway. But I recognized the emotion blazing in his eyes right then. Jealousy. My brows pinched as understanding dawned. He wasn’t mad I’d dragged him in to a fight; he was mad I might have had sex with someone else. He’d basically demanded I stay out of his life, but the thought I might move on pissed him off? Shaking my head, I narrowed my gaze on him.

  “You don’t want me anymore... but you don’t want anyone else to have me? Is that how this works?”

  His head tipped up and his jaw pulled taut. “I never said that.”

  Mirroring his position, I asked, “Which part?”

  His conflicted gaze held mine. Whatever was going on in his head, it was clear he was being pulled in two different directions. Breaking away, he let out a string of curses, dropping his head and planting his clasped hands atop it as he took a measured step back from me. My lungs hastily expelled the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, and my fingers slid from the counter. The fight drained from me.

  I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, if anything at all. I didn’t know if I had deliberately antagonized him, or if I’d simply lost control of my emotions. All I knew was a wasteland yawned between us. All of this space that was quickly filling with things we had and hadn’t said to each other. Obstacles piling up that I couldn’t see how to navigate my way through. The hope I’d been holding onto was fading. I couldn’t get through to him if he was throwing up walls faster than I could tear them down.

  My eyes burned, my chest ached. Head low, I murmured dejectedly, “Look, I’m sorry. This wasn’t to get at you; I never meant for you to get involved.” My voice caught, a single tear escaped, and I hastily swiped a hand over my cheek to brush all evidence of it away. I stepped around him. “I have to go.”

  His arm shot out before I could make good on my words, his hand wrapping firmly around my wrist.

  “The first part.” It was as if someone had ripped the gritted admission from him against his will.

  I halted, my gaze trained on my bare toes. My discarded shoes lay in a heap somewhere over by the couch. “What?”

  “I’ve never once said I didn’t want you.”

  His touch burned. His words burned. His eyes, which I could feel boring into the side of my head, burned a hole right through me. He fucking set me on fire. I wasn’t sure he’d hear me, I could hardly hear myself over the sound of hot blood coursing through my ears. “And the second part?”

  His fingers tightened painfully. I heard his slow intake of breath as he deliberately relaxed his fingers on my wrist, flexing them while his thumb shifted to draw circles lazily against my skin, like he was trying to distract himself from the thoughts my words had induced.

  Taking a breath of my own, I forged on, my voice a breathy whisper, �
�You want someone else to have me?”

  He stilled completely. My eyes traveled the length of his body as I turned to look at him, my fragile heart thundering in my chest as my gaze stopped just short of his shadowed jawline, fear and doubt halting my progress.

  His voice was so husky and low, it was almost unrecognizable. “What do you want me to say, Riley?”

  I lifted my gaze. Our eyes collided and locked. “Just the truth,” I breathed, begged.

  He lowered his head. “Riley…”

  My lids slid shut, heart sinking. He was going to deflect. Again. Just like he couldn’t say he didn’t love me, but he wouldn’t say he did. He was fighting a war, and somehow, I’d become the enemy. Pulling from his grip roughly, I walked to the couch and bent to snag the straps of my shoes with my fingertips.

  “Fuuuck!” What sounded like a fist slammed into the wall. I could almost feel his turmoil.

  Suddenly he was right behind me, his harsh breaths blowing my hair.

  “No. Okay? That what you want to hear?” My heart stopped, my lungs seizing as I straightened, bringing his chest flush with my back. His heat seeped into me and goose bumps erupted over the surface of my skin. “There’s your fucking answer.”

  His breaths became ragged. “Do I want some other guy’s hands all over you, touching you, his mouth on you? No. I can’t fucking bear the thought of it. Do you have any goddamn idea how hard it was to see that fucker touching you tonight? Do you? You want to fuck someone else, Riley?”

  He heaved, his chest expanding heavily against my back.

  “You want to know how I feel about that? Some worthless fucking asshole sticking their dick inside you?” His voice bordered on enraged, driven by some unfiltered, untameable emotion he couldn’t keep under control. “Not happening, Riley. Never fucking happening. Not while I’m fucking breathing. You know why... because you’re fucking mine,” he growled, guttural and raw.