Damage (Havoc #2)
Authors: Stella Rhys
DAMAGE
Stella Rhys
Copyright © 2015 by Stella Rhys
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Contents
Black hair. Olive skin. Wicked mischief that lived under the perfect curl of those lips. Jesse Toro could charm someone while carrying a body bag. And in a way, he’d done that to me. He’d conned me blind, shattered me to pieces. Forced me to hate myself with his deceit. And I had to give him credit for it because he was damned convincing with his disguise. His smile, the way he moved, all the cute skater boy stories he made up for his scars – they had swayed me into believing that he was really just “Sean”, my boyish, laidback neighbor. An irresistibly sexy adult version of all my high school crushes. I’d slept with him without detecting a single flaw. I hadn’t suspected even once that he’d planned every second of our first meeting. That he didn’t actually live across the hall, or know any of my neighbors. That he was lying about who he was and why he wanted me. A flood of darkness unfurled in my stomach as I squeezed my eyes shut, letting the reality sink in. I had climbed right into bed with the enemy – the very man Abram had left me to hunt and kill. I’d been had, pinned against the wall in every way possible by the infamous Jesse Toro.
Breathing jaggedly, I felt every ridge of his torso as he pressed himself against me. I could barely pull the bitter words out from between my chattering teeth. “Why did you do this?”
“You know why.”
“I don’t.”
I flinched when I felt his rough hand cup my jaw, tilting my face up. “Look at me.” I opened my eyes for him, tears spilling from the corners. “Is Abram not trying to find me right now? As we speak?” Jesse’s emerald gaze burned into me as he paused, my silence a good enough answer. “I know he wants me dead, Isla. And forgive me, but I’m not exactly one to roll over and let someone stick a gun in my mouth, so why don’t you take a seat on that nice, comfy bed of yours and answer me a couple questions.”
My throat tightened at the mention of my bed. I flashed back to just a couple days ago, to the sound of my headboard slamming into the wall with Jesse’s every thrust between my legs. I thought about how he’d groped my breasts with the same hands that had drawn a blade across Gavin’s neck. The same hands that had spilled the last drops of his blood onto a dirty bathroom floor. With a sudden lurch, my stomach turned. I thrashed out of Jesse’s grip as nausea and hatred spread through me. “And what if I don’t?” I hissed.
“You will,” Jesse replied easily, his shirt lifting as he casually palmed the top of his close-shaven head. My stare immediately dipped to his exposed waistband – to what glinted out from the back of his jeans. Something shiny. Hard.
A pistol.
Fuck.
Panic seized my judgment.
He’s going to kill you,
I told myself.
And without thinking, I snatched the front of his shirt, jerking him into my chest till his body crashed onto mine. Our hot mouths grazed, Jesse’s breath on my tongue and his lips twisting in a smile till he felt me reach around and yank the weapon straight from his waistband, shoving him off my body once my fingers wrapped around the grip.
Holy shit.
White-knuckling the gun, I stared him down.
Holy shit, holy shit.
Eyes wild, I squeezed the cold metal tight with both hands, trying to look maniacal as I pointed the barrel between Jesse’s eyes. Respectfully, he held his hands in the air but unless I imagined it, a faint smirk twisted his mouth.
“What are you doing, Isla?”
“I know what you did to Gavin Theroux,” I said between my teeth, my hands steady but my words trembling. “So give me one reason why I shouldn’t shoot you right here myself and have Abram’s men clean up the mess for me.”
“Because you’re just a pretty little girl and I’ve done my research on you.” Jesse’s reply prickled my skin, that faint smirk of his getting bolder. “I know who you are, Isla Maran. Born on September Eighth. Your last boyfriend was Evan Clark and you lived with him in the Upper East Side, on Eighty-Ninth Street. He’s engaged to your friend Holly now. Your parents are Rick and Patty. You taught fifth grade and participated in two of Gavin Theroux’s citywide fundraisers. You never met him. And you quit the job when you lost your sister. Elle. Her thirteenth birthday just passed.” Jesse paused, his hands sliding into his pockets as the curve slid off his lips. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I bit back fast.
“Why not?”
“Because,” I sputtered. I wasn’t sure if I was acting anymore, the hot tears burning out from the narrowed corners of my eyes. “Because if you know all that, then you should know that I’ve lost everyone I ever cared about and spent the last year flirting with the idea of swallowing a bullet, so why don’t I just shoot you before I shoot myself as a last thank you to Gavin?”
I could see the slightest tightening in Jesse’s broad shoulders, his body growing rigid as his eyes seared into mine, as if trying to paralyze me, to disable my ability to pull the trigger. “Because I know you, Isla. But you don’t know me.”
“I’ve known everything about you and your whole family since I was a little girl. I know that every one of you has blood on your hands, so trust me, I know all that I need to know.”
“You don’t.” Jesse shook his head slowly, definitively. “Not if you think that I was the one who killed Gavin.”
My eyes fluttered. My grip loosened but for all of a second before I swallowed hard and reset, squeezing the gun tight again. “Don’t try that with me, I know what happened. You killed an innocent man to get back at Abram. You
tortured
him and you slit his throat and then you disappeared like a coward because you
knew
Abram would have you dead in twenty-four hours if you didn’t run for your life.”
“No, I knew my brother would be dead in twenty-four hours if I didn’t run for my life.”
I stared, the air thick with silence. “What are you talking about?”
“I ran so they’d think it was me. At home or overseas, Stefan would have no chance against Abram. He’d have been dead in an hour.”
I blinked.
He’s lying,
I told myself as
inch by inch, Jesse lowered his hands, watching as I tried not to look completely thrown. Like I actually believed a word he was saying. But I couldn’t help it. My mind suddenly questioned the things that Abram had told me – all the truths that had been planted directly in my brain. “You’re trying to tell me that you didn’t kill Gavin Theroux,” I muttered, glaring at Jesse. He dipped his head, tilting it just so as he watched me.
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”
“And why should I believe you?”
“Because you won’t shoot a man who isn’t guilty, Isla.” There was something intimate about the way my name rolled off his tongue. I held my breath as he stepped close again, his eyes sliding down the front of my body. “I’ve done some fucked up shit in my life,” he murmured, walking his chest into the barrel of the gun, “but as far as you’re concerned, I’m an innocent man because I’m not the one who killed Gavin Theroux. Stefan was.”
My hands shook at the pressure of his weight pressing on the barrel. “Convenient to blame a dead man.”
“I’m only saying it now because it’s already too late. Abram got him. He’s already done what I ran away to prevent, so why should I fake it any longer, especially if it’s become a matter of life and death?”
I squeezed my eyes shut for a second. My mind was too boggled to put all these pieces together yet but they did vaguely seem like they could fit. I shook my head, trying to push back any willingness to soften toward Jesse. To believe him. I tried to sneer, tried to hold onto my crazy act, like I could very well shoot. But it was all bullshit and he was calling my bluff by pushing himself hard against the pistol, challenging my grip, his green eyes blazing and reducing me to a pile of nerves.
“Just put the gun down, Isla.”
“No.” My hands shook but I refused. “You wouldn’t have taken the fall if you didn’t kill Gavin. Not when you knew what Abram was going to do to you.”
“And that’s where you’re wrong.” Jesse’s smooth lips curled with disdain. “Like I said, you don’t know me. But if you insist on getting personal, I can tell you that my brother isn’t – ” His sentence broke off, as if hacked by a knife. I watched his mouth harden to a line, a flicker of mourning in his eyes. “He…
wasn’t
the smartest kid. But things weren’t fair for him when we were younger. He didn’t get a shot at normal. And that was my fault. And I’m sure you know what it’s like being the older sibling – you take the bullet whenever you can. Because that’s your job. You take the fall because you’re stronger and you remember what they were like when they were little and they still deserved the world. You protect them so they don’t have to hurt. So they have no idea that the pain you hide from them every day even fucking exists.”
His words snatched the breath from my lips.
Fuck.
Suddenly, there was an unexpected knot in my throat, choking me and bringing back every emotion I thought I’d conquered. Because his story matched mine to a tee. I had prayed countless mornings and nights. I had begged God to let me take the cancer from Elle. And when it was too late, I’d floated off to a dark fantasyland, where my death meant buying back her life. I dreamt every day of killing myself. The more pain I went out with, the more joy she’d come back with. The more blood I gave, the healthier she’d return. But none of that was real. None of it could really happen. I took no pain from Elle and she wound up braving a million worlds of suffering alone before being buried at twelve.
The bells of her voice rang in my ear as I felt heat stream down my cheek.
“Why are you crying?”
Jesse’s whisper was so soft I forgot where I was. I lifted my gaze at him. My heart was heavy, my arms too weak to hold a gun any longer. His fingers brushed against my palm as he took it from my hand.
“Isla.” Chills cased my body as he dipped his head close to mine. “I know it doesn’t seem this way, but I’m not here to hurt you. And I’m not here to trick you. I’m only here to protect myself. I didn’t know if Abram killed Stefan because he wanted to lure me out or if he’d somehow found out the truth. Because if that were the case, then I could call it even. Stefan went over my father’s head when he took Gavin and he went against the Family by acting alone.” Jesse turned away from me, breathing out frustration as he paced across the room. “If you need any more proof, Gavin Theroux was killed on my twenty-eighth birthday. There’s about a thousand fucking photos of me and my friends in SoHo that night.” He took out his phone, tapping and scrolling before tossing it to me. I fumbled and caught it, gazing down at the screen. In the picture was Jesse, surrounded by a couple dozen friends, each of them holding their own bottle of champagne. I checked the date. April Fifth of last year. “Take that as proof or watch the footage of Gavin at the warehouse. It isn’t me behind him. Not my voice. Not my height. Nothing.”
Shit
. I stared down at the picture. In it, he paired a sleek black suit with a silly children’s birthday hat. I scrolled. Tons of photos, all from April Fifth.
Can you fake the date in a smart phone?
I asked myself. “If this is true then there’s no way your family doesn’t know it wasn’t you,” I murmured.
Jesse gave a bitter laugh as he looked out my window. “It’s no a secret within the Family. They know I took the fall. They had to go along with it. Thought I crazy but maybe I was.”
Maybe. I was, too
. I’d been an empty, lifeless shell for a year after Elle’s death. I didn’t stir from my apathetic stupor till the night I met Abram. And from that day forward, my life changed forever. Our romance, whatever it was, had been a short but intense whirlwind till the day he had to leave. And I had tried – with everything inside me, I had tried to forget him and just let him go so he could find Jesse Toro. Instead, I found Jesse myself. I’d unknowingly slept with him and plunged myself right back into the chaos Abram so wanted me to leave behind. Catching my breath, I looked to Jesse.
“So what now?”
“What now?” I watched him turn around, slowly coming back to me. Intensity lit in his eyes as he closed the gap between us. “Now you help me get to Abram.”