Wraith: A Second Chance Dark Romance (Masters of Mayhem Book 1)

by Renee Rocco

  My head snaps up, and my breath hitches in my throat. I hear a whimper, and it takes me a second to realize the pathetic sound came from me.

  Wraith is sprawled on a chair, legs stretched out in front of him. Pants unbuttoned and gaped open. Shirt off, with every scar highlighted under the lamp’s glow. He’s watching me with a silent challenge in his scorching glare.

  Rissa, one pigtail askew, is on her knees between his legs. Her lipstick is gone, her eye makeup smudged. I have to rip my gaze away from her because if I don’t, I’m going to lose what fragile control I have left and shame myself by vomiting all over my new Doc Martens.

  “Yeah, no,” Wraith drawls. “Probably not a good idea.”

  “Well, that sucks,” Rissa huffs.

  “Less talking.” Wraith wraps Rissa’s wonked pigtail around his hand. “What happened, Jamie, get bored of Ferryman?”

  I fight the haze clouding my brain and lift my chin. With a flare of my nostrils, I clasp my hands in front of me and reach deep inside myself and make a desperate grab for the calm buried beneath layers of agony. “You’re a motherfucker.”

  I march out with my dignity intact, but a piece of my heart is dead on the floor where I was standing. I slam the door hard enough to rattle Sanctum’s foundation and beeline to the bar.

  “Hey, look who’s back.” Ferryman gives me a wide smile, and I notice he has a gold tooth. “You staying tonight?”

  “Still deciding,” I say tightly. Oh God, why does my heart hurt like someone doused it in gasoline and set it on fire?

  “Gotcha, but remember, honey, if you need me, you come get me. Even if I’m with someone. You come pull me off whoever I’m with, and I’ll take you home.”

  His decency is killing me. “Thank you, Ferryman. Seriously.”

  When Flask passes by, I ask him for a beer because if there’s ever a reason to drown oneself in the bottom of a bottle, I think seeing Rissa kneeling between Wraith’s legs qualifies.

  Flask pops open a Corona, and I take a drink. It’s not awful, like I expected a beer to taste. Then I spin and press my back against the bar to survey the room for the meanest, nastiest, most intimidating Unholy I can find, because if Wraith can have his cake, so can I. Because seriously, I’m twenty-four, this is Mayhem, and I’m a married virgin on the verge of widowhood.

  If anyone needs to get laid, it’s me.

  Ferryman is my first choice, but I dismiss him instantly because I second-guess the whole meanest, nastiest, most intimidating thing. Maybe that’s too deep end of the pool for my first swim. Let’s put a toe in the shallow end and see if the water is warm.

  There’s Havoc, and he is watching me. True, I’m a bit scared of him, but he’s gorgeous. Reminds me of a modern-day Viking, complete with a long, messy blonde mohawk and tattoos. He’s a bit too fierce for my tastes, but it’s not like I’m looking for a relationship. I need a one-night stand, and the man certainly looks like he knows his way around a woman’s body. I take another sip of beer, and it flows down smooth. Sure, I’ll feel like dirt afterward, but I’m going to feel like garbage no matter who I’m with, so it doesn’t matter much.

  Then I spot Jester strutting out from the hallway. He takes a long, lazy pull of beer, his hair all tousled-perfect, and his eyes hooded as he scans the main room.

  If Wraith wants to be nasty, I can be nasty, too.

  I march over to Jester, determination putting a fire in my step. “Please tell me you didn’t have sex.”

  I take a sip of the beer to wash away the imaginary taste of imaginary sloppy seconds.

  “Nah, my girl got sick.”

  “Thank God.” I realize I said that out loud when he frowns down at me.

  He eyes the bottle I’m holding, a bemused grin playing his lips. “Are you drunk?”

  I have the audacity to take exception at his question. “No, I am not.”

  Oh yes, I absolutely am.

  He looks over my head to survey the room. “You see Wraith?”

  “Unfortunately,” I mutter.

  My goodness, my head is fuzzy, and my body is warm and cozy. Like my skin is hugging me.

  “The hell? Did you say your skin is hugging you? Jamie, how much did you drink?”

  I hold up the Corona. I’ve barely made it past the neck. “This much and two shots of something delicious.”

  He grabs the beer and examines it. “That’s it?”

  I shrug sheepishly. “Never drank before. Can I please have my beer back, thank you very much?”

  I hold out my hand. He downs the beer in one long swallow. “No,” he says once he’s done.

  “You’re rude.”

  “Never claimed to have manners.” He threads his hand in mine and again searches the room. “Where’d you say Wraith went?”

  I roll my eyes. “Up your ass and to the right.”

  Jester gapes at me like he’s deciding if he wants to laugh or strangle me. Probably both.

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  “I need to get laid is what’s wrong.”

  He mutters something and yanks me across the main room and down the hallway. I have to bite my lip to keep from voicing the fury brewing inside of me as we pass the room where Wraith is doing…whatever it is he’s doing in there.

  Oh, I know exactly what that rat bastard is doing in there.

  He’s breaking my heart is what he’s doing.

  So, I’m going to break his because he started this childish game of tit for tat.

  No one said I have to play along. I can leave. Go back to Wraith’s house and…what? Wait for him to come home stinking of her perfume? Go to sleep and pretend he didn’t crush my soul? Go against my nature and cry into my pillow until I’ve spent my last tear? Or do one better and allow my heart to remain stone and forget I’m an actual person? Because I’m skating dangerously close to a razor’s edge where I can turn my feelings off completely.

  Or, I can also sink to a new level of low and play Wraith’s stupid game and deal with the fallout later.

  When we get to an empty bedroom, Jester flings me inside and slams the door. He sets the empty beer bottle next to the lamp on the table beside the rumpled bed. There’s also a wrapped condom. The sight of it sets off a nervous flutter in the pit of my stomach.

  “What happened tonight? What’d I miss?”

  I shrug. “Ask your friend.”

  Those amber eyes narrow on me. The charmer is gone, replaced by a predatory stranger. He downs the rest of his beer and sets it next to mine. “I’m asking you.”

  I flop down on the bed and pull off the heavy Doc Martens. “I’m staying in Mayhem. I wanted to tell Wraith, but he won’t talk to me. Won’t even look at me since we went riding the other day.”

  “Awesome you’re staying. Didn’t realize you had plans to leave. Doesn’t answer my question. What happened, Jamie? Where’s Wraith?”

  Hysterical laughter bubbles out of me. One of those nonsensical laughs that start from the toes. “Maybe you should get him a little bell. Put it around his neck since you keep losing him.”

  It’s a cruel thing to say, but I’m furious. Heartbroken. Cut to the core, and I want someone to hurt too because I’m tired of hurting alone. Of always holding in my pain. Pretending I’m fine even when I’m dying inside.

  Jester grabs me by the shoulders and gives me a violent shake. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  The laughter dies in my throat, and the fog lifts. “Must be something about seeing… What’s her name? Oh, right. Rissa. Seeing her on her knees between Wraith’s legs brought out my inner bitch.” I shake out of Jester’s hold and brace myself on my elbows. My head is hazy, and my body is wonderfully warm, and for the first time in my life, I don’t care about choosing my words. “I won’t apologize for being human. You know what else? It made me realize I’m an idiot. I wasted all these years being a virgin. But I’m over it. This is Mayhem, right? Here, I get to pick my pleasure. Well, I’m picking it. You. I pick you.”


  Jester’s expression is priceless. If a jaw can literally drop open, his does. Gapes, actually, but he snaps it shut and steps back. “The fuck you say?”

  My skirt rode up when I got on the bed, and I adjust it, suddenly aware of how much of my thighs are exposed. Well, not my thighs, but my scars. “You heard me.”

  He rakes his gaze over me, and it’s almost a physical touch. “You never had sex?”

  I use my index finger to make a sloppy cross over my heart. “Swear to God.”

  “Christ,” he mutters. “There’s a house full of men out there who’d give up a kidney to fuck you. Why me, Jamie?”

  I shrug, suddenly not as confident as I need to be to see this preposterous plan through. “Why not you?”

  He closes the distance between us and grabs me by the nape of my neck. His face is so close to mine, our lips nearly brush. “You want me because it’ll kill Wraith if you fuck his best friend.”

  He releases me and steps away.

  “Right at this minute, he’s having sex with a woman in pigtails. Pigtails, Jester. Do you honestly think he cares if I have sex, or who I have sex with?”

  “Fuck yeah, he cares.” He sits on the bed and twists to face me. “What your husband did to him messed him up. He didn’t come back the same person he was before, and he’s sorting that shit out. And whatever happened between you and him on that mountain got him twisted even more. But I won’t throw you out there to the wolves. If you’re determined to fuck someone tonight, I’ll get the job done, because trust me, Jamie, you don’t want one of those beasts between your legs for your first time.”

  I notch my chin with false bravado. I’ve always been good at pretending, and I’m putting on a grand performance. I’m scared to death. My heart’s hammering, my limbs are numb, and I can barely breathe. There’s a lump in my throat I can’t swallow past. But I hide the fear and the doubt behind a mask of false confidence and composure.

  “Good, then let’s get this done before the buzz wears off and I chicken out.”

  Jester barks out a laugh. “Wraith’s an asshole.”

  “You got that right.” I look away from him, suddenly feeling like a heap of trash. Wraith is battling demons. But his inner turmoil doesn’t give him the right to hurt me. Nor do I have the right to drag his best friend into the mix. Two wrongs and all that, but also, all’s fair in love and war. Still… “You know what? You don’t have to do this.”

  Jester cups my chin and lifts my face. “You’re right. I don’t have to do a goddamn thing.”

  “Wraith’s going to hate you.”

  “Wraith’s a grown man who made a grown man’s decision when he went in that room with Rissa.”

  Jester pushes me backward and climbs on the bed. He uses his knee to pry open my legs. His weight presses me against the mattress when he settles himself over me. He’s huge, and gorgeous, and smells incredible. He’s perfect. Too perfect. His flawlessness contradicts the damage hidden beneath my clothes.

  His mouth comes down on my mine, all soft and warm and spectacularly talented. I expect a sizzle, similar to when Wraith kisses me. The only hum is from the liquor sedating my brain. And it’s not for Jester’s lack of trying because the man knows how to use his tongue. He’s a fantastic kisser. He can curl a woman’s toes for sure.

  Any woman’s but mine, because it’s not Jester I want in this bed.

  It’s Wraith.

  But he’s busy with someone else.

  18

  Wraith

  I should chase after her. Instead, for the second time in my life, like an asshole, I watch Jamie walk away.

  The bang of the door vibrates the room long after she’s gone. I sit there with Rissa kneeling between my legs and stare at the empty spot where Jamie stood. I wanted to strike where it would do the most damage. Same as knowing she has one foot out the proverbial door punched a hole in me. But holy Christ. For half a second, I thought she was going to rip out my heart with her bare hands.

  Death by Jamie would have been worth it to push her to go wrath of God on me. But nah. She went cold again. Entire universes might collide or some such shit if she gives up her precious control. Doesn’t matter. She’s leaving. Soon as her torturing scumbag of a husband is dead, she’s going to wherever the fuck she’s gotta be, because it sure as hell isn’t here, with me.

  And right there is the problem.

  The hair across my ass.

  In my mind, Jamie has always been mine. Reality is, she walled herself up behind stone and steel, and I can’t touch her. Not even this shit show I staged with Rissa pissed her off enough to lure her out from behind her defenses.

  I uncoil Rissa’s hair from around my hand. “Get up.”

  She blinks at me, her wide blue eyes hooded from the massive amount of alcohol she consumed. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I snap.

  Everything.

  She steadies herself, her long red nails biting into my thighs. “But I thought you said we were going to party.”

  I push her away and scrub my hands over my face. “I lied.”

  Rissa glances at the door then back at me. “You like her, don’t you?”

  “She’s none of your fucking business.” I stand and grab the shirt I discarded when we came shuffling in here after I had enough of seeing Jamie with Ferryman. Once I tug it on, I clamp a hand around Rissa’s arms and pull her out to the hallway. “Let’s go.”

  When we reach the main room, I toss her at Havoc, who’s sprawled on a couch. Discord’s on a chair next to him doing some nasty shit to one of the hang-arounds.

  Havoc catches her when she tumbles on top of him. Rissa lands on him with a squeak. “For me?” His words are slow and slurred.

  “Yeah, man, have at it.”

  Feral as fuck, Havoc growls, “Lucky girl.”

  No shit. I’ve seen Havoc in action. Rissa won’t be disappointed.

  “You see Jamie?”

  “Yeah.” Havoc’s hands are all over Rissa, and she’s grinding on top of him. Discord’s enjoying the show as his woman moves down his body and unzips his pants. “She went that way with Jester.”

  I track where he’s pointing.

  No fucking way.

  That direction is toward the hallway—toward the bedrooms. She wouldn’t go there.

  Not waiting around to watch Havoc fuck Rissa, or Discord get a blow job, I stride over to the bar where Ferryman’s doing shots with a handful of Unholy. A few hang-arounds have joined them, but one person is missing from their little gathering and red explodes behind my eyes.

  “Ferryman, where’s Jamie?”

  “She was here maybe ten, fifteen minutes ago.” He glances around the room. “She drank for the first time and I think it hit her hard. She said something about Jester or Malice taking her home.”

  No, they fucking didn’t, because neither of them would leave without telling me.

  Sonofabitch.

  I slap him on the shoulder. “Thanks, man. If you see her, keep her here and text me.”

  “Absolutely.” For a big brute of a man, Ferryman has a heart of gold. Cross him, though, and you’ll earn an enemy who’ll have fun making your life a living hell. “Everything good?”

  “Just misplaced my girl is all.”

  “Ha,” he barks, pointing at me. “I knew you’d claim her.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I roll my eyes. “Spread the word that she’s mine.”

  That is, if I didn’t go and fuck it up beyond repair because I’m an asshole.

  “You got it, bro,” he promises.

  I avoid a literal minefield of debauchery as I head toward the hallway. A chorus of grunts and moans blends with the thrum of Godsmack pumping throughout Sanctum. Last room at the end of the corridor is Crow’s. Even has President branded into the wood—and everyone knows to stay the hell away from when the door is closed.

  I make an educated guess as to where Jester took Jamie and stop at the room he claimed when he hooked up with the hang-a
round earlier in the night. The door is unlocked, and when I fling it open, it takes my eyes all of three seconds to adjust to the dim lamplight.

  The first thing I see are Doc Martens overturned on the floor. Then Jester stretched out on the bed. Last thing my brain computes is Jamie’s little body beneath his, with her arms wrapped around his waist.

  Christ, this isn’t happening.

  Except, it is, and the monster roars awake. Slams against the bars of its cage. It craves blood as much as my lungs need oxygen.

  I fight the urge to gut my best friend and instead lean against the doorframe with my arms over my chest, sick to my goddamn stomach. These motherfuckers. I threw down the challenge, yeah, but I didn’t expect this cold bitch to slap me in the face with it by banging my best friend. But there’s a lesson to be learned here.

  Fuck with Jamie, and she’ll fuck me back ten times harder.

  Figurately. Because Little Miss Virgin kept her legs closed all these years but has no problem opening them for revenge.

  And Jester? He’s a dead man.

  “Seriously?”

  Jester, who’s still fully clothed thank God, lifts his head and pins me with a glare. Then he looks back at Jamie. “You lied to me, James. You told me Wraith is with Rissa.”

  “Apparently, he’s a ten-second warrior,” Jamie quips.

  Jester snorts out a laugh and rolls off her. He swings his legs off the bed and rests his arms across his thighs. “Well, that proves you and Wraith never fucked.”

  Takes Jamie a few sloppy tries, but she sits up, awkwardly yanking at the skirt of her pink dress to cover her legs. “Didn’t I tell you I didn’t have sex with anyone?”

  Under normal circumstances, her annoyed grumble would be adorable. This isn’t a normal circumstance. I want to kill her.

  “You pissed?”

  I step into the room and close the door. “Was your tongue just down her fucking throat?”

  “She was determined. It was me or someone else.” Then Jester gives me a crooked grin and a shrug. “Not that I’m saying she had to twist my arm.”

  “Damn right I didn’t,” Jamie snaps.