Page 13 of Let Me
“How do you—”
“How do I know?” I beat her to it, sneering at her. She closes the space between us and it’s fucking hard to breathe so I take a step back. “How do I know my dad is keeping you here?” I laugh, and it tastes bitter in my mouth. “I know more than you think I do, Riley. You can’t keep me in the dark about my own goddamn father.”
I know his assets. I know his properties. Benji filled me in on just who was staying at this one.
She wraps her arms around her chest and for just a moment, I want to pull her to me. To put my lips on her brow, to feel her wrap her skinny little arms around me, like she needs me. Like she wants me.
I shake my head, trying to think. To make some fucking sense.
“It’s not what you think,” she says, her voice defiant. She was always defiant, even in her meekness. It’s why my dad liked her so much. Just like my mom, she always spoke her mind, even if her voice shook. It’s why she wasn’t afraid of that line most sane people wouldn’t cross, the one between brothers.
But I was no better.
Not really.
Maybe I was just as fucked up as she was.
And it wasn’t that line that had hurt the most.
“What is it then, Riley? You’re going to tell me you’renotfucking my dad? Because if you’re not, well,” I glance over my shoulder, up at the condo at my back, “I think you’re full of shit.” But she can’t be. She wouldn’t…would she?
She shakes her head, takes a step toward me and my breath hitches, but she doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, her cheeks are pink, and she frowns, her brows pulled together.
“Listen, Caden—”
“No.No.This isn’t your city anymore. Your mom isn’t here. Your university isn’t here. There isnothinghere for you. Adam is a fucking dick—” I see her brows go up and I realize I stumbled. I realize I made her think, that maybe, I care. I shake my head, moving on. “My dad is married to my mom, and you’re not going to break that up. There’s way too much money between them. You might’ve gotten Jack to…” I swallow. I can’t say it.
She frowns, her gaze softens, and she reaches an arm out for me. I step back, just out of reach, because if she touches me, I don’t know what will happen between us.
“There isnothinghere for you. Go the fuck back home. Don’t come back. No one wants you here.”
A couple passes us on the sidewalk in front of the condo and they glare at me, but I don’t give a damn. I mean what I’m saying. I never want to see her again. My life will be infinitely better if I don’t see her again.
“This isn’t your city, either,” she says quietly.
I take a step toward her. “What did you say?”
Her eyes flick up to mine, green and beautiful and full of the anger that must be in mine. “You don’t live here, do you? This isn’t your life. And if you think your dad is fucking me, why did you come to the party at all?”
I laugh and step closer to her, until we’re so close, I could take her hair, twist it in my hands, yank her neck back. But I don’t. I don’t know how far I’d go after that. “I didn’t know you were going to be there. And that wasmy house. Hishouse, you fucking—” I stop myself, putting a hand over my mouth. I lower it and shake my head. “Just get the fuck out of here.”
“Fucking what, Caden? Go ahead. What do you want to call me? You’ve spent these three years saying it enough in your fucked-up head, what is it you want to say to me?” She reaches for me, balling my shirt in her fist.
I blink at her small hand, clenched with anger, and it takes me a moment to comprehend what she’s doing. She’s actually holdingmy shirtinherfist. She’s breathing hard, her lips slightly parted, and she isn’t scared. She’s pissed off.
I own my own company. A multi-million-dollar company in the suburbs, outside of Toronto. I’ve been recognized as one of the leaders in innovation, one of the youngest to emerge in recent years. I’ve had people fall at my feet all my life, but now they’re doing it because of something I’ve built.
Never have I ever had someone to do to me what she’s doing. I’m lean, but tall, and people are intimidated by height. But Riley Larson isn’t intimidated by anything, apparently.
“Get your hands off of me,” I say quietly.
She yanks me forward and I put out my hands to keep from colliding with her. I grab her arms, and we stand that way, in a stand-off in the middle of Toronto before my dad’s condo, breathing fire at each other, unspeaking for a second.
“I’m not fucking your father, you piece of shit,” she seethes, breaking our silence. “And I didn’t need your help in that alley—”
At this, I can’t help but grab her hand, pull it off of me, easily, and twist her arm until she winces. I let go immediately, but I think I’ve made my point.
“You didn’t need my help, Riley?” I ask sarcastically. “You got yourself covered? You can defend yourself? You didn’t need Benji to send you that picture either, to see that Adam is an asshole? And you didn’t need me back there, in the alleyway, in between those two horny thugs? You’ve taken care of yourself all your life, all on your own?”
