Kade's Game (3 page)

"No.  I don't feel like swimming.  Not my thing.  Besides, I'd look like a punching bag with all these," she says, motioning to numerous bruises around her neck, shoulders, and chest.

I need to get out of here before I drop to the floor at her feet and swear my apologies.  The sick feeling in my gut makes me fight the urge to double over, and I flee the room without saying another word.

My dick has finally calmed the hell down, since my conscience is draining every bit of energy from me.  I had no idea it was that bad.  How did she manage to get out without broken bones?  Mother-

"Kade?" the woman near the entrance says, stepping behind the cash register.

I need anything to distract me from the hellacious amount of guilt I feel.  So I let her flirt, while I smile and laugh when I think I'm supposed to.  I lean against the counter, continuing the charade of being intrigued.  But I've barely heard a word she's said.

She asks about my father's latest store, and I tell her where it is, mention the new girls struggling with the rich men that come in.  She giggles and nods, seeming to find amusement in nothing amusing at all.

Then a few clothes are suddenly beside me on the counter, and I look over to see Raya in an almost long-sleeved shirt, and a pair of jeans.  She's covering her bruises.  My guilt doubles and delivers me another sickening kick to the gut.

"Is that all you're getting?" I ask, looking at the tiny heap.

She needs to replace everything.

"Yeah.  And what I'm wearing," she says, motioning to the clothes that she feels I overlooked.

Okay.  So she obviously doesn't realize that Dad meant to get
all
she needed.  Instead of explaining, I just walk back toward the dressing room.  I motion to two girls who almost stumble in their haste to meet me.

They actually frown when they realize I'm just asking them to do their jobs.  Like I'd fuck someone in the dressing room of my father's store.

"Everything that was in her size, grab it," I order, sounding a little bossier than usual.

"This rack," Sarah says with a shrug.

She starts to pick up the corset, and I pull it out of her hands and toss it to the ground.

"No corsets," I say with a mild grin.  "She doesn't need shit like that."

Sarah wants to throw out an insult, but she remembers her place before she does.  She looks sickly because she's way too thin.  I'm not about to let her bash Raya who is perfectly healthy, but not at all fat.  Not even a little.  Fucking crazy Sterling Shore standards.

Raya is still getting rung up when I reach the register, and I start throwing mounds of clothes onto the counter.

"Add this to it," I say, moving so the two women following me can mound their stuff up.

While they're adding to the pile, I throw a few pairs of sunglasses in, and then move closer to Raya.

"What are you doing?" she hisses, letting her eyes leak venom.  It's cute, really.  The fact that she thinks she can be intimidating is actually comical, but I'd better not laugh.

I shrug, trying not to let her know what a jerk I feel like, and decide to play it off, rather than tell her I'm trying to get rid of my guilt by buying her tons of clothes.

"I know my father better than you.  He'd make me bring you back, and I've got shit to do today."

"I don't want all this."

"Too bad," I mutter, moving my focus back to the cashier while the others neatly place the clothes in designer bags.

Raya's jaw tries to unhinge when she hears the price, acting as though she just said something ridiculous.  Has she never been shopping?

When she freezes, I decide to reach over and pull the credit card from her back pocket.  I might let my hand push against her ass more than necessary, but she doesn't need to know that.  And she doesn't even react.

"It's his store, Raya.  It's not like he's not getting it all back," I say with a small snicker.

It's not true.  He'll only get a percentage of this transaction back, but she doesn't need to know that either.  He'll make fifty times that amount from just this store today.  Especially in about an hour.  That's rush hour here.

Gently, I use my finger to push her jaw into a respectable position, feeling satisfied when she holds it there on her own, and then I take the card back from the cashier.

"Let's go," I tell her while grabbing as many bags as I can.

The girls grab some bags and follow us, helping to put them in the trunk.  I smile when Raya pulls a pair of sunglasses from a bag.  At least I did something right.

After shutting the trunk, I walk over to her door, and groan inwardly at myself when I open it for her.  Now I just look like a schmuck who's begging for penance.

"Come on," I say when all she does is stare at me like I've sprouted a second head.

I ignore the stares we're getting from the other girls, because I know they'd like to kick Raya out of the car so they could join the Colton heir.  Everyone wants a piece of my dad.  I'm not their way to him, so they need to get that plan out of their mind.

After closing the door, and ignoring how much better she looks in designer jeans as opposed to jeans that didn't fit her body properly, I move to my side.  I have to stifle a grin when I notice her watching me with intrigue.  Yeah, I've confused her.  Hell, I've confused myself.

"When's your next doctor's appointment?" I ask to break the silence while driving away.  Not to mention, I'd actually like to take her there.  It's the least I could—

"Um... I don't think there's going to be one.  Since it was just some heavy bruising."

Heavy bruising?  Did they see that massive pile of marks?  There could be something internally wrong!  What moronic doctors does she have?

"What?"  I ask, trying not to let my fury leak out.

"Like I said, no major injuries.  No need for a second visit."

She doesn't say anything else, and I keep my lips sealed.  I'll just call her damn doctors the second I get home.

After discovering several disgustingly disturbing rumors about Raya and my father, I need a hell of a cigarette, since I can't bleach my fucking brain.  Hell, I need carton, actually.  Christ.  People are sick.  I hope she hasn't had to hear this shit.

The people around me moan and groan about needing a party—one of my parties.  I can't discuss parties right now.

I've barely kept my temper in check, and I really don't want to lose it.  I've never needed a minute to myself the way I do right now.  Between the stomach-churning rumors and the weird tension at home, I just want a break.

I've done all I can to avoid Raya, and for the most part, she avoids me, too.  She wears those damn tiny shorts all over the house.  Has she no idea how cruel that is?

I've never lived with a girl.  So far, I've come to the conclusion that it's torture.  Point blank, my father is a sadistic bastard who enjoys tormenting me.  I really don't need this distraction right now, and I feel like an unwanted guest in my own home.  As if I don't have enough stress.

Between the orders at the vineyard and exams at school, it's been terrible.  Absolutely terrible.  I need to relax at home, not live in cold showers.  And it's only been a week.  I'm a sad, sad excuse for a man.

Speaking of the vixen in my dreams, there she is.  Her eyes catch mine briefly as I take another puff.  When Joseph walks up beside her, I tense.  Even I think he's a dick.  Why's he getting so close to her?

I don't know what he says, but she flinches, and I see her do all she can to curl into herself.  I don't have to hear.  It's obvious that he's saying the same shit to her that I've heard all day.

"Joseph," I call, doing well to keep the anger out of my tone.

He laughs as he jogs toward me, and Raya visibly relaxes.  I've been itching to hit something for weeks.

"What's up?" he asks as he reaches me.

Raya disappears from sight, and I motion for him to follow me.  I wave behind me when people start calling my name, but I don't turn around.  Joseph follows like the beta prick he is.

"What'd you say to Raya?" I ask, trying to sound bored or only mildly interested.

He laughs, taking pride in his bullying.  I take the last puff from my cigarette, hoping it gives me some relief, but it doesn't.  Tossing it to the ground, I wait for his snickers to end.

"I was just giving her hell.  The bitch got Mark and John expelled.  Not to mention she's holding up our parties," he says, talking about two of the four frat jerks.

The frat houses are under lockdown right now.  A probationary thing—no parties for a month because of the bulldozer incident.  Their parties suck anyhow.  No big loss.

"She didn't get them expelled; they got themselves expelled by almost killing her," I bite out through clenched teeth, slowly losing my calm facade.

"She's the one that caused a fuss.  Not all of us are ninety so early in life.  They were just fucking around.  It's not like they meant to hit her house."

I lose it.  Before I know what I've done, my fist has already connected with his face and he's flying backwards, hitting the ground hard.

"What the hell?" he spews, grabbing his aching eye and nose.  I'm not sure which I hit or if was a combination of the two.

I stalk toward him, but Jacob and Craig are pulling me back before I can do more damage.  One hit wasn't enough, dammit!

"Dude!" Jacob yells.  "Calm the hell down!  What happened?"

Joseph answers while I seethe.  "I don't know.  He got his panties in a wad when I mentioned that bitch
—"

I've ripped free and grabbed him by the throat before he can finish that.  My fist is wrenched back and ready, but Jacob hauls me off again.

"Are you fucking her or something?" Joseph squeals, shrinking back.

At first I get royally pissed, but then I see the fear in his eyes, so I allow him to continue.

"If you are, I didn't know.  I swear, dude," he almost whimpers.

Everyone looks to me expectantly, waiting on my answer.

"If you even so much as look at her again, this won't end well.  Next time there won't be people to hold me back," I threaten, and then I shove away from them to make my way toward class.

I never confirm or deny his accusation, but the implication is there.  It's not ideal, but I'd rather them think she's fucking me than my father.  No one will give a damn about that, and she'll quit getting hassled.  Or else I'll be hurting a lot more stupid
rejects.

There's no mistaking that
body, even from the back.  Her supple hips swing gently as she makes her way toward the house.  Why is she leaving so soon?

Her small waist is hidden by the flowing material of her shirt, but I noticed earlier that her chest was sure as hell accentuated.  She really needs to stop distracting me.

I note all the eyes on me as I make my way toward her, ready to explain to her that what happened earlier won't happen again, but I chicken out.  I'd really rather not have her berate me for letting people think she's getting in my bed.

"Hey," I say while jogging toward her.

She ignores me and speeds up.  That's going to raise eyebrows and form questions.  I don't have time for this sort of drama.

"Raya," I prompt, using a harder edge, hoping it's enough to get her to quit running off.

"What?" she asks, but when her voice cracks with emotion, my stomach sinks.

It didn't work?

"Shit.  What happened?" I almost demand, needing names.  Maybe the new rumor hasn't gone as viral as I'd hoped.  I can fix that.

"Nothing.  You'll be pleased to know I'm calling your father today to apologize for going back on the deal I made with him.  You win.  I give up.  Call off the hellhounds.  I'm waving the fucking white flag."

She thinks this has something to do with me?  She really thinks I'd do something as sick as spread rumors about her and my dad?  That hurts.

She tries to run off, but I grab her and whirl her around, forcing her to look at me.  I regret that instantly, because those tears nearly destroy me.  A gnawing feeling of more guilt spreads, and I really have nothing to feel guilty about this time.  Do I?

She needs to get a new layer of skin.  She can't keep acting this fragile.  They'll chew her up.  Sterling Shore is not a town where you show any weakness.  It's a shark tank that leads to a piranha pit.

I can already see the damage done if Dad finds out.  He'll charge in like a white knight, and Raya will become a bigger joke.  People will use that has heavy ammunition.

"I didn't do this, and you can't call my father.  He'll come to the school and raise hell if he finds out this is happening, and you'll have an even bigger target on your back.  What did you expect to happen?  You'd move in and no one would say anything?  That's not the way it works."

That was a little harsher than I meant for it to be, but she had to see that there was going to be some backlash.  Right?

"So it's my fault they want to call me a slut and a charity case?  Nice.  Real fucking nice."

The venom in her eyes and tone isn't exactly what I was expecting.  One second she's crying, and the next she looks like she's thinking of ways to castrate me.  Instinctively, I turn my balls and manhood away from her.  Just in case.

But when she starts rushing away, I'm yet again forced to follow, rushing my steps to keep pace.

"Damn it, Raya!  Stop.  If you have me chasing you across campus they'll talk even more."

"Then stop chasing me.  I'll just move out without calling your father."

Fine.  If she wants to be a big baby, so be it.  I don't need this shit.  I've got my own issues to deal with, and none of it involves her.  This is for the best.  She shouldn't be living with me.  It's exactly what I wanted a week ago.

Until the bruises...

"Shit," I gasp when she nearly gets run over by a car.  My heart leaps into my throat as the horn blares, but she never even looks up.  I'm going to kick her ass.  That's it.  It's time to show her how to cool down.

"She okay?" a guy asks.  I have no idea who he is.

"She's fine.  She's just pissed that I got in a fight earlier because some prick said shit he shouldn't have.  She doesn't like me fighting," I lie, fueling the new rumor.  If they think she's mine, they'll start backing the fuck off.

Furiously typing on my phone, I send a group message to my loyal partiers:

Party Saturday.  My place.

It's damn near impossible to keep my cool as I stalk toward my house, and I make it my mission not to tear down the front door.

"Raya!" I yell while slamming the door behind me.

She doesn't answer me, and I skip several steps as I rush up the staircase, ready to teach her a lesson.  The door starts to close, but I shove it open and send her staggering backwards to the floor.

"You can't let them win.  If you do, you'll be their doormat for the rest of the year.  Possibly the rest of your college existence.  You're a freshman, so that's not going to work out so well for you."

The tears on her face make me feel like a total jerk, but she has to toughen up.  There's no way around it.

"Go to hell, Kade.  Maybe you shouldn't have told them to ridicule me if you didn't want your
daddy
to be pissed."

She's trying to drive me crazy.  That's all there is to it.  She has no problem barking at me, but she cowers away from everyone else.

She stays on the floor, refusing to meet my gaze as she wipes her nose and ignores her tears.

I walk over to her bed and dump out her clothes, surprised to find she was only packing her old clothes instead of the nicer stuff she just got.  Then I turn my attention on the fuming girl on the ground.

Tough love, Kade.  Don't back down.

"Get your ass up and grow the hell up.  Get over it, Raya.  You're a poor girl who landed herself a spot in a rich house.  People are going to talk.  The only thing you can do is show them they're wrong.  I've already spread the word that there will be a party Saturday.  They'll start easing off you.  Show up, drink, have fun... be a normal teenage girl."

She laughs humorlessly as her eyes glaze over with pure hatred.  She really does despise me, and I'm only trying to help.  I'm not the gentle life coach, I'm the get-your-ass-in-gear coach that is going to teach her to stand up for herself.

"You're such an idiot.  I won't be here in five minutes, let alone on Saturday.  I'll live in the laundromat before I stay here for one more second."

Again, she underestimates me.  She's so fearless with me.  Now to expand her ability to be that way with everyone.  First things first, I have to make her cool down and think rationally.

I crack my neck to the side, grab her at the elbow, and jerk her up to start dragging her down to the pool.  A nice dunk should wake her up.

I bite back a grin when she calls me several choice names, none of which really go well together.  Whoa.  Wait?  Did she just threaten my balls?  That's not cool.  We need boundaries.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Keeping you from being a dumbass," I say simply.

She sinks to the ground, trying to force me to stop my efforts, but she weighs nothing, so I bend and scoop her up, tossing her over my shoulder with a smile she can't see.  She squeals and beats her small fists against my back, prompting me to roll my eyes.

Her ass in my face is causing me more pain than her fists.  Stupid zippers.  I need thicker boxers if my body is going to react every time I touch her.

She's still swearing every two seconds as I make my way to the patio doors.  In four swift, long strides, I've reached the edge of the pool, and I launch her into it, keeping her away from the edges so she doesn't get hurt.

I watch as she wildly bucks under the water and frantically swims to the top.  When she comes up sputtering and coughing, I realize that her getting wet in front of me is even worse than her ass being in my face.  Ah, hell.  That's it.  I'm buying zipper-less pants from now on.

Her hair is slicked back, and damn it's sexy.  And so are all the trickles of water that are flowing down to her very buoyant breasts.  I almost bite my knuckle to keep from groaning.

"Cool off," I manage to say calmly, giving her a smirk I know will annoy the hell out of her.  "When you get out, go grab a shower, eat something, and get some rest.  Things will be different tomorrow."

I don't stick around to see the clothes that will be suctioned to her body.  There's no way I can endure that, and knowing how much she wants to kill me right now, she may thrust that wet body at me in an attempt to attack.  I really,
really
don't need that.

What I do need is a drink.

I pass by the backpack I threw off on my way in here, and dive into my garage, ready to escape.  The first thing I'm doing when I get in my car is unzipping these unrelenting jeans.