Page 27 of UnWholly Angels
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Maya,” he muttered.
My jaw was in pain from how hard I’d been clenching it, and grinding my teeth relieved it for now, as our back and forth continued. “If anyone should feel hatred, it's me. I should hate you as much as you clearly hate me, but I don’t, and it eats at me every day.”
Placing the Rubik’s Cube on the dresser behind him, I clenched my jaw, trying my best to stay quiet.No, no more.I refused to stay silent a moment longer.“You could have called. You had no solid proof that I was, without a doubt, dead. You can lie to yourself all you want, but deep down, you were scared, and that’s okay. But do not stand there and lie to me.” There was nothing left to say, and I refused to stay in the silence.
Was I already ashamed that I felt there was no other way out than to sell myself? Yes, of course. I’d tried killing myself, and I even failed at that, ending up in a straitjacket, locked up for days. I didn’t even know where Rocco had me whisked away to, but it wasn’t his home, that was for sure. Blindfolded most of the time to ensure I was kept in the dark about all of his dirty little secrets. The only time it was allowed off was to shower and eat with supervision. Other than that, the blindfold never came off, the gag never came off, and I was forced into silence, forced into submission. If Riley had just let me explain before, maybe we wouldn’t be here.
“Maya,” he whispered, broken and barely audible as he sucked in a breath. I turned away, heading for the door, when his hand caught my wrist, spinning me back around to face him. “I tried to.”
What?
His eyes were now red and puffy from the tears. They were falling freely down his face, and my heart sank. He had takenin a lot of information over the last few weeks, and I needed to remember that he was human too. His feelings were as valid as mine, and he’d been internalizing a lot of pain. “Nick said his family hired someone.”
“How do you think they ended up dead? Nick’s father knew things he was never meant to, and he paid the price for it.” I crossed my hands over my chest, never faltering as he took in my words. Ezra Palmer, Nick’s older brother, helped Rocco take out his own parents for their life insurance policy. They needed the money to secure the warehouses, clubs, and relationships that would be formed. I tried to tell Nicholas, but nobody could find him at the time. Imagine having to die for your assets, being worth more dead than alive. Maybe today, Nick would still have his parents if his father had been smarter about the confrontation. “Eventually, I told Nick the whole story, but nobody steps out of line when it comes to the Vitales, especially when it comes to money. They don’t care who they have to use, hurt, or murder to get it.”
My hand brushed against his cheek, needing to feel him, even in this heated conversation. “This started because you stood up to Rocco when the others were afraid to. The possibility of being overthrown hadn’t crossed his mind until you. Riley, youscaredhim.”
He rested his hands over mine, lost in thought. Always the observer, trying to read the room or form his words carefully. “So, was the auction a front or something? You really need to help me understand here. If it was the right ‘time,’ why couldn’t Nicholas or Chloe just come to me? Why couldn’t you come to me?”
I shrugged my shoulders, unsure of what to say next. “I swear you have taken too many pucks to the head or something. The auction was Chloe’s idea, but I need you to understand that even if I did know who you were behind the username, I couldn’texactly ask for help. Someone was always watching me. I was never safe enough. The night of the auction, I saw an opening and took the chance. If not you, it was going to be someone else, maybe an even more dangerous situation. But I had to try.” Tears welled in my eyes, watching all the emotions flicker across his face. “I need you, King. Help me end the person who ripped us apart.”
He stayed silent as he pressed his forehead against mine. His ragged breaths blew across my face; every muscle defined as he quivered beneath my touch. We stayed like that for a while, and I was patient while he gathered his thoughts.
Finally, he pulled me into his taut chest and squeezed. Even when I tried to pull away, he muttered something inaudible before slamming me back into his chest.
“I’ll do whatever it takes to see you smile again, Maya, to feel safe and loved. But you have to give me time…please.” His thumb rubbed at my lower back, and for the first time since I got here, warmth spread across my abdomen at the realization that I wasn’t alone.
“Can you stay in here tonight?” he whispered against the top of my head. “I still hate the fucking dark, Maya.”
Chapter Eleven
Riley
How does the saying go again? Oh, right. Wake up, eat, and go to work, and that's exactly what I will do.
Rolling over, woken up by the constant scream of my alarm, I attempted to roll over, but found my arm numb and tingling, trapped between the bed and a body, Maya’s body. Her breaths were shallow, and her hair splayed out across the pillow. I couldn’t believe I’d admitted the dark still bothered me. It felt minuscule to all the baggage she carried. At the time though, I just needed her to feel safe. I never meant to hurt her, but I let my anger get the best of me. She was far from sloppy seconds. She should have let Rocco come after me, so I could’ve bashed his face in and ended this a long time ago, for her.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand, probably messages or notifications I didn’t care too much about right now. Despite the growing need to pull my arm away and regain feeling, I wouldn’tdisturb her. Instead, my eyes scanned the room, landing on the picture of us that sat on the nightstand. It was always there, but out of sight. I never had the heart to erase her from my life, no matter how angry I was with her. We were happy once, and maybe in time, we could have that again, but it would take time.
What the…how’d that happen?
Throwing a dirty look at the inanimate object, I noticed the crack that ran down the glass of the once perfect picture. I was only angry for a moment as I studied the picture once more and chuckled to myself. It sort of fit; that was what Maya and I were right about now, cracked and broken. The truth was we were both completely different people now, and I was going to show her how to spread her wings, defend herself, and fight back. Maya would need to be broken by me, broken in a way that would allow me to help her build a life she wanted, to show her that sex could be safe, pleasurable, and consensual. That was how I would prove she was more than how I’d treated her last night.
Once the words had left my mouth, I wanted to desperately shove them back in, watching a perfectly placed crack in her facade show. Last night, she’d asked for King as if he was a different person, and I was starting to think that might be true, someone created to protect Riley in a time when nobody else would. That mask was an extension of my persona. When I took the mask off, I didn’t have to answer for the sins I’d committed while wearing it. As far as anyone was concerned, Riley wouldn’t know a thing.
Slowly, I removed my arm from under her, rolling over and dropping my feet to the floor. I took extra care when making my way to the dresser to get ready for the day with one exceptional change: I’d make her breakfast. It wasn’t much of an apology, but it was a start. Pen and paper sat atop my dresser, and Igot to work on the note, hoping she would read it, even if my handwriting was sloppy and rushed.
The array of food hadn’t taken long to cook, and I was almost jealous that I wouldn’t be sharing the deliciously smelling bacon, eggs, and pancakes. Grabbing the orange juice from the fridge, I kicked it shut behind me and poured it into the glass cup. One singular beat to my chest signaled I was doing this, and I had to push down the sentimental value that something as small as breakfast had.
I was excited to be cooking for someone else, and Maya no less, something I’d only ever wished I could do. Carefully making my way up the stairs and into the bedroom, I smiled, the sweet aroma of her perfume encapsulating the air around me as I set the tray of breakfast next to the bed and placed my credit card on top of the note with a sigh. The familiar scent of rose embeddeditself in my brain, poking away at my memory. My lip twitched into a smile, and I leaned down to place a small kiss on her forehead.
She stirred, her hair fanning along her shoulder, and I clenched my jaw, pulling her blanket higher. I’d waited this long to touch her, what was a little while more time? My phone exploded with messages, and I couldn’t be late again. When in reality, all I wanted to do was lie in bed all day and hold her close. Ripping myself away from her sleeping form, I headed to practice, which for the first time in a long time, was the last place I wanted to be.
Shutting the car door and heading toward the arena, I popped in my headphones and scrolled through my playlist, letting the gentle music play softly in my ear. My shoulders deflated, and my tongue released from the roof of my mouth in relaxation. The mingled aroma of the fresh ice and popcorn lightened my mood instantly. Normally, I never entered the arena this way, but it was only practice, and I had about five minutes to get to the locker room. This was the fastest way right now.
There was so much on my mind. Anyone would go with the flow to avoid conflict, and lately, I’d seemed to be a magnet for it. I was trying to do better, become a better man. Every time I did though, shit piled up on top of me, and I found myself drowning. Running my fingers through my hair, I pulled at it slightly, a nasty habit I’d developed over the years.
I hadn’t been paying attention to where I was going and found myself bumping shoulders with one of the cleaners. “Sorry aboutthat,” I mumbled as I continued to walk, and just under the hum of the music, I swore I heard the slightest whistle as he rolled past me with a smile. I couldn’t help but stare for a moment, my stomach flipping in suspicion as I peered over my shoulder once more. Being watched was always on my mind, always looking over my shoulder; this wasn’t a way for anyone to live. I’d never tell anyone, though; it was easy enough to handle. However, it was hard to tell if it was Rocco or just a fan who wanted a picture or an autograph. Never would I want to lose support over mistaken identity, and Rocco knew that.
