Sorrow (Cape Frost #1)

17

If I don’t get out of this house, I’m gonna lose my mind. My shoulder hurts, my ass aches, and all I want to do is crawl into the lap of the man I hate the most.

This is not good.

It feels like he’s rewriting my brain chemistry. Not so long ago, my immediate reactions to seeing him were disgust, anger, and dread. Now, I get butterflies and care about what my hair looks like. The dread and anger and disgust still follow, but it’s undeniable that something is changing.

I fucking hate it.

Getting dressed, I grab the $250 Hayes gave me for last night and lace up my boots. I may not be able to do much, but I can put some of this money to good use .

“I’m going into town,” I call from the hallway. “Are either of you behind my truck?”

“I am.” Of fucking course he is. “What are you going into town for?”

“Damn, Hayes. You sound like you’re her man or something,” my brother interjects. “I’m allowed to ask her that, not you. What are you going into town for?”

Hayes shoves Boo a little roughly, but they’re both smiling. “You’re not her man, either.”

“No, I’m her brother. That trumps your love/hate relationship with each other.”

Well, he’s got it half right.

“Whatever. I’ll take you into town.” Hayes grabs his keys off the countertop, saving me from having to tell my only sibling that I’m shopping for lingerie.

The problem is, I don’t want Hayes going either. “You could just move your truck and I can take myself.”

“Or I can just take you. I have something to drop off in town anyway, Samuel.”

How long has it been since he called me that?

Not long enough.

Rolling my eyes, I plaster on a fake smile and walk right past him out into the cold. The second the door opens, my face hurts from the wind. You’d think I’d be used to it by now.

I war with myself while I wait for him to come out about what to tell him. There’s only one store in town that sells lingerie of any kind, and it’s skeevy to say the least. It’s not a big chain store where I can pretend I need something else, nor is it any kind of upscale.

It’s just... well, gross.

“What are you dropping off?” I ask when he gets in. “That cabinet you were working on?”

“Yeah.” Rubbing his hands together, Hayes turns up the heat for us and looks me in the eyes. “What are you buying?”

Don’t flinch.

“I need to go to Pandora’s Box.”

Slowly, his face changes into a grin. “Oh yeah? Something specific in mind?”

Huh. Why did I expect him to be mad or tell me that’s not an appropriate place for me?

I’m almost a little disappointed.

“Yep. We’re almost done with training and I need to dress the part if I’m going to convince Nate to take me with him,” I say bluntly. No point sugarcoating it. “I was looking for something slutty.”

Immediately, his smile is gone like it was never there at all. “You’re not going to that place alone. I’m going in too.”

Yeah, there it is. Too little too late for it to be anything other than jealousy, though. “No, thanks. I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t remember asking you a question. Besides, don’t you want me to tell you what men like?” He steps on the gas harder than he needs to, forcing me to sit back as his jaw ticks.

Whatever men like, it clearly isn’t this.

Fine.

I stay silent until we pull into the driveway of a house belonging to one of The Founders. “This is who you built that cabinet for?” I ask. “You didn’t happen to put something explosive in a hidden compartment, did you?”

Huffing, he yanks open the door and climbs out, but to my surprise he leans back in to respond. “Maybe. Don’t get out of the car, Hurricane.”

I’m pretty sure this is Mr. Madoff’s house, and after what his son and his shitbag friends did to us, I don’t want to go anywhere near him. I’ll stay right where I’m at.

It’s so warm in his Silverado that I’m nearly asleep when he comes back out looking pissed off. I fake snore once, earning me a pinch on my thigh, then sit up straight and flip off the house as we drive away. “What happened?”

“Daddy dearest is as much of a douchebag as his son. Who’s surprised?” With a scowl that seems to be going nowhere, Hayes glances at me from the corner of his eye. “What made you decide you needed sexy clothes for that pussy?”

“Common sense,” I counter. “Why go through all this trouble if I’m not going to give myself the best possible chance of success?”

He shrugs it off. “Have you talked to him recently?”

“Not since he told me he’s scared of blood. He’s not very talkative, though I haven’t tried very hard.”

“Sounds like a fun guy,” he deadpans. “Should probably go for pinks and not reds.”

“The lingerie?” I ask. “I was leaning toward black, but why pink? ”

“He seems like the type to like softer colors. Nothing wrong with that, I’m sure you’d look beautiful in light pink, but I don’t think he could handle red or black. He’d probably come in his pants and then blame you for it.”

As we stop to wait for a train, Hayes lays his head back against the seat and watches me as I stare straight ahead, probably trying to read my expression. It’s a good thing I’ve had years to master my emotions.

“You know I don’t care, right? About Nate, about any of it. I just want out.”

Maybe if I say it enough, one of us will believe it.

Something about that makes him frown, but he doesn’t look angry at me. It’s yet another thing I can’t read, and when he starts driving again, it feels like I missed my opportunity to figure it out.

“How’s your ass feeling?”

Better than the rest of me right now. I’ll never understand why I always feel so off around Hayes now — he doesn’t have to say anything and I still feel like I’m ready to crawl out of my own skin. Like I’m doing something embarrassing or wrong, he just won’t say it.

“It’s fine. I can still feel you. ”

“Good.” His grip on the steering wheel tightens as he pulls into the uneven parking lot, and when he parks, I catch him adjusting himself. “Ready?”

Not even close, but I get out of the truck anyway. The faster I get this over with, the better.

The inside of Pandora’s Box looks exactly like I expected it to — grimy walls that once were white, sticky tile floors, and posters of grossly muscular men objectifying fake-titted women covering nearly every inch of available space. The shelves are stacked with toys, restraints, DVDs, old school VHS tapes, and not a whole lot of lingerie.

At first, I think the moaning I hear is coming from a tv. Maybe a porno or one of those weird roleplay games — but no. It abruptly stops, and a few moments later a man walks out of a side room and buckles his pants.

Holy shit. I’d heard rumors you could pay for sex here, but didn’t know it was real.

My cheeks flame with heat as I walk past an aisle full of dildos the size of my leg, but it’s the fuck machine in the corner that has me tripping over my feet.

Hayes has been watching me since the moment we walked in. He’s pretended to window shop the entire time, but it’s blatantly obvious I’ve had his attention when he reaches out and catches me before I even begin to fall. “Don’t go getting any ideas.”

“Ideas? What ideas? I don’t have any ideas,” I mumble, acutely aware of how much of his body is touching mine. “But I wish I'd known that existed a few weeks ago.”

“Don’t insult us both by saying you would have considered it over me.”

I would’ve, before I knew. “Oh, you can’t imagine me picking a machine that can’t talk over a man who’s made a living out of making me cry?”

“You never cried,” he argues, but I can practically see the memories flashing through his mind. “Why would you cry, anyway? You hated me. Who cared what I said?”

“I cared a lot... until I didn’t anymore,” I admit quietly. “I didn’t have anyone but you and Boo and you both hated me. Eventually I grew up and realized that it was easier not to care. So I stopped.”

He walks away slightly, nodding his head in thought before he spins back around. “Boo never hated you, Samara.”

But you did.

“It’s in the past, Hayes. Let’s find something and get out of here, yeah? I told my brother I’d cook before he goes back to work.”

“Right.”

He moves to stand behind me like a fucking bodyguard as I skim the very few options they have, moving right past anything with tassels on it.

Yikes.

There’s a little black one piece with scooped sides and a mesh bra I think I’d look stunning in, but I put it back in favor of the only one here that can be considered pink.

It’s not exactly a pretty shade or a flattering cut, but I don’t seem to have a choice. “This one?”

“Sure.” Hayes shrugs like he’s bored, making me irritated as I stomp my way up to the cash register, and after the first beep he shoves the black one I considered onto the countertop. “That too. Oh, you need extra small condoms for Nate, right?”

“Extra small is better than none,” I point out, handing the lady enough cash to cover both. “I’m surprised you even know what they are.”

Hayes snatches the cash out of her hand so rudely I apologize on his behalf. “I’m paying. You’re not using this cash on lingerie for another fucking guy. ”

The lady blushes slightly at his intensity and takes his card, making me apologize for a second time.

“So you’re buying me lingerie for another man?” I ask. “That’s so much better.”

“Don’t over analyze it. You’ll get a headache.”

He’s the one who looks like he has a headache as we take our leave, but I don’t get a chance to push him on it.

Tristan Turner is waiting outside with five of his dumbass little friends.

“So it’s true,” he goads. “The little virgin bitch paid someone to fuck her. I almost didn’t believe it when I heard.”

God, I can’t wait to get the fuck out of this town. “I didn’t pay anyone, dipshit. Don’t you have puppies to kick or helpless girls to force feed alcohol?”

“Like... you?”

It’s a threat, and a clear one, but I’m not alone this time. I’m not trapped at a quarry too scared to defend myself.

I’ve got Hayes.

The dark, low chuckle he lets out behind me is the only warning I get before he’s tugging me backward out of the way. Tristan moves first, sensing the danger he’s in, just not quickly enough to save himself.

Hayes is... angry .

It’s written all over the lines of his body as he grabs him by the neck, lifts him up, and slams him into the dirt. Watching should turn me off, terrify me — but all I feel is a sense of pride, of glee. No one has ever protected me like this before.

The blood spraying from Tristan’s face as Hayes exacts revenge coats the ground below them, pushing his friends back. It’s clear none of them want to get involved despite having Hayes completely outnumbered, but I can’t say I blame them. Tristan is screaming .

“Hayes,” I say, slowly and almost bored. “Let’s go home. Leave some of his face intact so he can’t blame you when he never gets laid again.”

Surprisingly, he listens. He stands up straighter and looks at Tristan’s friends like he’s challenging them, laughing when none of them take the bait. “You need better friends.”

Without another word, Hayes grabs my hand and tugs me toward the truck, ensuring I’m inside and buckled before he joins me in the cab.

His knuckles are split open and bloody, his face still pristine. Tristan didn’t manage to hit him once. “Thank you,” I say quietly. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“No, I did. Little punk had it coming, and it’s obvious he’s thought about fucking you more than once. No dude teases a girl about being a virgin unless he wants to fuck her.”

He seems to realize what he basically just admitted to me when he presses the gas even harder, so I decide to mess with him just a little.

“Do you always speed when you’re embarrassed? Once was one thing, but twice? Now it’s becoming a pattern.”

“Shhh,” he hisses, grip tightening on the steering wheel. “I speed all the time. I’m not embarrassed, you little shit. I’m still mad about that asshole.”

Only he doesn’t look so mad anymore.

He looks like he’s trying not to laugh.

“Things would be a lot easier if we’d just agree not to lie to each other,” I say flatly. “You’re embarrassed and that’s fine. You should be, I mean... he completely kicked your ass back there.”

This time he actually laughs. “Didn’t you just say we shouldn’t lie, Hurricane?”

“So you agree with the premise then, good. Moving forward, no lies.”

“Sound a little bossy there, but alright.” He holds his hand out for me to get a closer look. “Does this make you squeamish?”

“Do I look like Nate?” Raising my brows, I lean forward and kiss his shredded knuckles. “Blood never bothered me. ”

“Fuck.”

His eyes are locked on my lips like he’s struggling not to pounce on me. I like this side of him, because it’s one I can control.

Without looking away, I dip down and lick the dripping blood from his middle finger, then swallow it and show him my tongue. At least if I die, I won’t be in Cape Frost anymore.

The second he stops at a red light, Hayes grips my chin and pulls me in for a sloppy, heated kiss, moaning from the metallic taste.

“Any more lessons you want to teach me, Hayes?” I ask between kisses. “I’m eager to learn.”

“Are you?” His mouth trails bites down my jaw to my neck. “Then let’s get home and get Boo out the door for work.”

Sitting back, I take a deep breath and decide to take advantage of the state he’s in. “Why didn’t he turn The Sons in? He had all the evidence in the world. Why hide it? This could’ve all been over.”

Sighing, he drives for a few minutes before he gives me a response, though I can see it on the tip of his tongue the entire time. It’s the only reason I don’t rush him. “Because they threatened you,” he admits. “They said they’d kill you. ”

That’s why Boo wouldn’t talk in front of me that night. All of this, our house burning down... it’s because Boo was worried about me. “Why didn’t you talk him out of it?”

He looks at me like the answer is obvious, and when I simply continue to stare at him like I need him to say it, he relents. “I just told you. We won’t risk your life, Samara. Neither of us.”

That’s not what he said, and I find it hard to believe Hayes gave a fuck whether I lived or died the night that happened. Even after, he tried to refuse to let me stay in his house.

But nothing about his expression suggests he’s lying to me, which tells me one thing: it’s more important than ever that I get out of town and never look back. Once I’m gone, Boo will be free to turn them in the right way. Once I’m gone, they won’t have to worry about me. And most importantly, once I’m gone... none of this will be my problem anymore.