VIPER (Fallen Angel Book 2)

by Brooke Blaine

  “So this is it? It’s over?” I said.

  “You need more closure than this?”

  Fuck me, he was being an asshole. He always told me he was, and I never listened, because he’d never shown that side of himself with me, but I sure as hell was seeing it now. The last thing I’d expected when he invited me to his mom’s tonight was to get booted from Viper’s life—and his bed.

  “I wanna know one thing,” I said. “Is the reason you’re doing this because of the band? Because of what people would say about me if they knew about us?”

  “It doesn’t matter—”

  “It matters to me,” I yelled, shoving Viper in the chest, causing him to stumble back. “It fucking matters to me.”

  If he was surprised by my reaction, he didn’t show it. Instead, he righted himself and pulled another cigarette out of his packet. After he lit up, he took a long inhale and then blew the stream of smoke away from me. “It’s for the best. You’ll see.”

  I shook my head and ignored the sting behind my eyes. “That’s not a fucking answer.”

  “You know the answer,” Viper roared, his indifference fading away as he finally snapped. “Stop pretending like we’re something we’re not, and move the fuck on.”

  His words were a slap in my face. Designed to hurt me so I’d back off—just the way he obviously wanted it.

  “Look at me.” My voice came out tight and full of gravel, because I’d been grinding my molars together so hard my jaw ached. When Viper didn’t immediately comply, I raised my voice. “Look at me.”

  Hard, dark eyes met mine, and I couldn’t stop myself from taking a step toward him.

  I shoved my finger against his chest to punctuate my words. “You’re making a mistake.”

  Viper wrapped his hand around my wrist to stop me, his hold firm to the point of pain. “My choice to make.”

  Right. How could I forget? It was Viper’s choice. Viper’s choice to chase after me, Viper’s choice to fuck me for more than one night, and now it was Viper’s choice to end things. I got no say. After all, who was I? Nothing more than a fuck in his eyes.

  I ripped my arm away from his hold and walked backward away from him. Nothing else needed to be said right then, because if I didn’t leave now, I would end up punching the shit out of that handsome face. The one he used to lure objects of his lust to his bed. To lure me.

  He stared right back at me, unmoving, as I glared at him, my heart pounding in my chest and threatening to burst. When I couldn’t stand to look at him anymore, I turned around, balled my hands into the pockets of my jacket, and walked off to the train.

  I knew Viper wouldn’t follow. He hadn’t even come outside to see me; it’d just been happenstance that I’d been standing out there. God, what a fucking prick. But if truth be told, I was just as mad at myself for falling for the “casual fuck” bullshit as I was at him for spewing it in the first place.

  Did he honestly think ending things would be a good thing for the band? Did he really believe that? Because as far as I was concerned, Viper flipping his “asshole” switch wasn’t going to endear him to anyone, least of all me. Fuck, no wonder Trent left.

  But I was different. I wasn’t a quitter, and I wasn’t about to be thrown out on my ass like a piece of garbage either. I was the lead singer of Fallen Angel, and I deserved better than that.

  The train to my apartment dragged on forever, but the longer I sat, staring out the window into the black nothing, the more my anger began to dissipate. Taking its place was something much worse: disappointment. Something I was positive Viper wouldn’t be feeling at all.

  I leaned my head against the cool glass and closed my eyes, but when all I saw was the look of indifference on Viper’s face when I left, I opened them again.

  I thought I’d gotten through. I thought I’d cracked his shell. Hell, I was the one taking a risk here. Viper was the one out and proud, and my parents didn’t even know about me. It was a good thing I’d never told them. Jesus.

  When I finally reached my apartment, I unlocked the front door and braced myself for Imogen throwing herself out into the hallway at me. But when I saw the lights out at her place, I breathed a sigh of relief. I wouldn’t have to deal with her questions right now. I needed to be alone to wrap my head around everything that happened tonight and then figure out how to do what Viper had suggested—“move the fuck on.”

  I put the key in the lock, but I didn’t open the door. Shit, the last thing I wanted to do was sit on the couch or in the chair or on my bed, all places that would remind me of Viper.

  No, I thought, tucking my key back into my pocket and continuing the climb up the stairs until I reached the emergency exit. I need to be somewhere Viper hasn’t touched.

  I pushed open the door—the alarm on it had never worked since I’d lived there—and took the stairs up to the roof. No one else seemed to come up here, which meant I was free to bring my guitar up and play without any of my neighbors beating on the wall to shut me up. I didn’t feel much like playing tonight, though, which might’ve been the first time I’d ever felt so shitty and not reached for an instrument.

  The air was chillier up here, the building one of the taller ones around these parts. A concrete wall surrounded the perimeter, giving it an enclosed feel, but that was what I liked about coming up here. I could sit in my folding lawn chair, look up at the sky, and pretend I could see the stars despite the bright lights of the city.

  And that was what I did now.

  I laid the chair out flat so I could stretch out on it and folded my arms behind my head. The anger that’d boiled so quick and fast inside me outside the Neils’ house had simmered now, bringing only confusion and hurt to the forefront. I didn’t want to feel any of those things. Why couldn’t I be the kind of guy who didn’t care so much? The kind that could have a longstanding acquaintance with someone else without it turning into more?

  It all boiled down to one thing: I was guilty of caring too much, and Viper was guilty of not caring enough.

  Thirty-Nine

  Viper

  IF SOMEONE ASKED me how I ended up standing in front of Halo’s apartment three hours after I’d watched him walk away from me, I wouldn’t be able to tell them. But that was where I found myself, staring at the peeling paint on the left-hand corner of his apartment’s door, trying to find the nerve to knock.

  After our epic showdown in front of my mom’s house, I’d forced myself to go back inside and eat some of the cake I knew she’d spent the afternoon making, figuring there was no reason to make everyone in my life hate me by the end of the night. Mom had been wise enough not to delve deeper into the surly mood that had only intensified after going out for my “smoke,” and after I’d finally kissed her goodnight and headed down to the train station, I’d been tempted to stop at a liquor store and buy a bottle of cheap whiskey to drown out the words I could now hear on repeat in my head.

  My words. Halo’s words. All the ugly words that had been spewed between us in the heat of one of the most painful arguments I’d ever been a part of. Over the years, I’d become a master of not giving a shit. But from the moment the angel had pulled away from me at my mom’s dinner table, to his final you’re making a mistake, the cut had been made. I’d left it there to bleed, and now I was numb, in a state of shock over what the hell I’d just done to him, to me, to us, and I realized I didn’t need alcohol, because without him, I didn’t want to feel a fucking thing.

  Raising my hand, I knocked and waited. I had no idea what I was going to say when he opened the door—if he opened the door—but I’d obviously caught the train here for a reason.

  When there was no answer or movement from behind the door, I knocked again, louder this time, determined to see him or sleep on his welcome mat until he opened the damn door the next morning.

  God, my chest ached something fierce, and if I hadn’t ripped my heart out earlier and tossed it on the ground, I would’ve been worried I was having a heart attack as I sto
od there making a deal, with whoever might listen, that Halo open up his damn door.

  When five, ten, fifteen fucking minutes passed and the door remained firmly shut, I cursed and whacked the heel of my palm against it. Fuck. What did I expect? That after every shitty thing I’d said in an attempt to push Halo away from me, he’d suddenly open up his door and invite me inside? Hell, at this stage I didn’t even know why I was here. When we’d been going at it with one another, everything I’d been saying made sense, but now nothing made sense.

  I took a step back to turn around and sit my ass down on the ground, and as I did, some movement over in the fire exit caught my attention. Halo had just pulled open the door to the stairwell, and as his eyes locked with mine, he froze in place. He gripped the door, his feet locked, and his shocked expression changed to one full of disgust. Then he took a step back and let go of the door, and before it fell shut, he turned and bolted up the stairs.

  With no other thought than following him, seeing him, getting closer to him, I took off after Halo like the hounds of hell were chasing me. I shoved open the door, and as I burst into the stairwell and it thundered shut behind me, Halo stopped one flight up, his eyes clashing with mine from the landing above, his hands braced on the metal railing as he glared down at me. His breathing was heavy enough that I could hear it in the confined space even though we were a floor apart, and when my eyes shifted to the stairs and then back to his, my intention must’ve been clear, because the angel took off.

  Halo darted up the next set of steps as I climbed the first, going two at a time in a race to reach him, and with my eyes firmly on him, I had the advantage. I could see the distance between us, he couldn’t, and every time he glanced back to see where I was, he slowed, until we got to the final set and I closed in. He was almost home free and out the door, but just as his hand landed on the door handle, I reached for him and my fingers caught his wrist.

  The contact sent an electric jolt through me, and him too, judging by the way his head whipped around, and I took full advantage of the distraction. I tightened my fingers until I had a firm hold of him, and when I was finally opposite him, I tugged on his hand, drawing him to me.

  Halo clamped a hand down over my fingers and pried them off his wrist, but I turned my hand, caught hold of his, and pulled him toward me with so much force that he stumbled and put a hand up to brace himself. As his palm landed on my chest, right over my heart, I wondered if he could feel how hard it was pounding. I wondered if he knew it was for him and if he even cared. Then Halo angled his face up, his eyes flashing with fury as he dug his fingers into me as hard as he could and shoved me away from him. I was caught off guard; my grip on him loosened, and he yanked his arm free. Then he took a step back, his eyes trained on me with a fuck you look if ever I’d seen one, as he reached behind him for the door and shoved down on the handle.

  Halo turned, pushed the door open, and stormed outside, a clear dismissal, but I followed after him. I must’ve been possessed or some shit, because I was not about to let him get away from me. I needed to touch him, talk to him, and somehow make him understand that every fucked-up thing I’d said to him tonight was for the best. I’d done this for him.

  Halo stopped a couple of feet away from me, and as he stood there with his back to me, looking out at the city lights, the message was clear: go away. That wasn’t going to happen, though, and as I came up behind him, his shoulders tensed.

  The words were on the tip of my tongue, the ones I never said to anyone, ever: I’m sorry. Two words, only seven letters, and yet they were the hardest to say in the entire English language.

  Halo still had his back to me, though, so I moved up beside him, but even though I didn’t touch him, he jerked away as though I had. Before he could move again, I grasped at his arm and spun him so that his back was against the concrete. I needed his attention, not for him to try to disappear, so I pushed my hips against his, locking him in place.

  That move was one the angel would’ve liked had the past few hours never happened. But since I’d gone and fucked us to hell, Halo now strained against my hold, his chest rising and falling rapidly, like he couldn’t get enough air with me this close. He wouldn’t look at me. Almost nose to nose, and his eyes were everywhere except where I wanted them.

  I held his chin and waited until he looked at me. At first he refused, but I told myself to be patient, and it wasn’t long before those pale green eyes finally settled on mine. When they did, I opened my mouth to say those two words, those seven letters, but before they could come out, Halo pulled an arm free and clapped his hand over my lips.

  Stunned, I could only stare at him as he shook his head, unwilling to hear me out, to listen to my apology. I’d said more than he wanted to hear tonight, and if I thought I’d felt like the biggest fucking asshole on the planet before, it was nothing like the feeling that seared me then. Because while Halo’s eyes held all of the fury I’d expected to be directed my way, there was a more dominant emotion swirling in the fire: pain.

  I inhaled through my nose sharply and dropped my hold on his chin. The look he aimed my way cut deep. God… I’d hurt him. I knew I’d pissed him off, but I’d done a hell of a lot more than that, and as I stared into the depths of all that emotion, I almost wished I’d never gotten a glimpse.

  Halo held my gaze, baring it all for me. His palm continued to cover my mouth, his hold firm, but I could feel his fingers shaking slightly. From anger and disappointment? From the tension radiating through his body? From something else?

  Shit, the last thing I’d wanted was to get feelings tied up between us, but there was no denying that whatever this was, it wasn’t just a casual fuck, and I wasn’t sure it ever had been. But that didn’t matter—it still didn’t mean anything more could happen. That was just the way it had to be, and maybe I should’ve cut this off sooner, but it was better to let the angel go now than make things even more complicated.

  Like he could tell the way my thoughts had gone, Halo pushed me away suddenly, using the strength of his hand against my mouth and using the other one to shove at my chest. I wasn’t letting him go so easily, though, and batted his hand away, grabbing for his hips. I curled my fingers around his belt loops and pulled him back toward me, but he gripped hard on my biceps, holding me at arm’s length.

  I didn’t want to be at arm’s length. I wanted him to be in my arms, which was the goddamn problem. Because more than anything in that moment, I wanted to kiss those angry lips until he opened up for me. I wanted to tangle my fingers in his hair and tug his head back so I could run my tongue down his neck to the hollow at the base of his throat. And then I wanted his body under mine, arching up against me as we connected in the deepest way I knew how.

  But I didn’t just want those things. I needed them. I needed him.

  He still had a firm grip on my arms, but that didn’t matter, because I unhooked my fingers from his belt loops and brought my hands up between us, holding his face between my palms as I dove in for the kiss I craved. The move took Halo by surprise, because he froze, and the thought crossed my mind that I might’ve gone too far, that he might well punch me, but fuck it. It’d be worth it, and I deserved worse.

  When he finally realized what was happening, Halo ripped his mouth away from mine, his breathing coming hard as he looked at me with a mixture of confusion and outrage.

  But he didn’t throw a punch. He didn’t walk away. So I reached for him again, entwining my fingers in his hair as I crashed my lips back on his, but he was ready for me this time, and he pushed me away before I got a good taste of him.

  Halo took a couple of steps back and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, sending me a clear message that I didn’t buy for a second. Why? Because the arousal in his jeans told me different.

  I prowled forward as he backed up again, but because he kept his eyes on mine, he didn’t notice the wall behind him until his ass bumped up against it.

  He could’ve moved. He could’ve tol
d me to stay the fuck away. He could’ve thrown that punch I was still waiting for. Instead, he watched me walk toward him, and when he was close enough for me to touch, Halo surprised me by grabbing two handfuls of my shirt, balling his fists in the material. He didn’t push me away, but he didn’t pull me forward either. I could sense his hesitation, the war being waged in his mind, so I did the only thing I could do. I forced his hand by licking my lower lip, and when his eyes dropped to the movement, something in him snapped.

  Halo jerked me forward and attacked my mouth with surprising force, taking my lips in a brutal kiss that made my head spin.

  This battle of wills had just begun.

  Forty

  Halo

  ANGER. HURT. LUST. As the three emotions battled for supremacy, I twisted my hands in Viper’s shirt and scraped my teeth along his lower lip. The lip he’d taunted me with, knowing there’d be no way I could resist.

  I twisted my fingers around the material and for one second imagined it was his skin I was sinking my nails into, that he could feel the bite of pain I was so desperately trying to inflict in that moment because…how fucking dare he do this to me.

  How dare he come here after everything he’d said tonight and make me want him again. But he had, and I did. I wanted him so badly that I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out and taking hold of him, even though I knew this was it. That this was our goodbye. I could read the apology in his eyes: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for things to end this way. But that didn’t stop me from drawing him in.

  Closer… Closer… I wanted him so close that Viper would never be able to forget the way it felt to have me touch him, kiss him, consume him the way he did me, and then? Then I’d let him go. Just the way he wanted it.

  I shoved Viper back a step and pulled my mouth free, and as his chest heaved beneath my palm, I took in the wickedly hot visual he made standing there. The one that had made me fall for this bad boy in the first place.