Octavian's Undoing (Sons of Judgment) (20 page)

“How are you feeling?” Octavian murmured.

Riley shrugged. “I’m okay.”

His gaze dropped to the band aid around her arm.

“It doesn’t hurt,” she told him, catching the flicker of regret in his eyes. “I don’t feel anything.”

He raised his eyes to her face once more, darkness shadowing them. “I wish you’d listened to me, Green-eyes.”

Riley frowned. “About what?”

He exhaled heavily, raising a hand and raking the fingers through his hair. “Everything.”

Then he walked away, leaving her suffocating in the emptiness welling up inside her, and questioning the wisdom of longing for a man with such a cryptic way of keeping her at arm’s length.

“What are your plans for tomorrow, Riley?” Kyaerin had asked her the day before as Riley had gathered her things and prepared to leave work.

Riley had shrugged, anticipation brightening her face with a smile. “I don’t know. It’s my first day off. I think I want to do something fun and spontaneous.”

My. Ass.
Riley thought as she lay staring up at her ceiling. She had yet to even climb out of bed and it was already after ten. Early, yes, but she had no drive to actually do more than she already was, which pissed her off. She had a twenty dollar bill in her purse just begging to be spent on something frivolous and fun and her mind was drawing a blank.

Maybe she’d buy something nice to wear, something sexy. She didn’t have anything like that. Everything she owned was simple and conservative. Not that she was a prude, but she always found herself shying away from the bright and flashy. Anything that drew attention. Maybe she’d buy something bold and extravagant. Something that said
look at me, I’m hot!

In her mind’s eye, a green dress flashed. But she didn’t own any green dresses. It must have been something she’d seen somewhere in passing. Maybe she’d buy it if she saw it again. But something told her a dress like that would cost way more than twenty bucks. So she pushed that idea out of her head and went back to brainstorming.

It had been so long since she’d contemplated
fun
that she didn’t even know what she liked doing. She had no hobbies or favorite places and she hadn’t watched TV in so long that she didn’t even know what movies were at the theater. She considered going to the bookstore and rummaging through the bargain bin. But she was so far behind on all her favorite books that she wouldn’t know which to buy first. Plus, one did not just walk into a bookstore with a measly twenty dollars. It was just not done.

Exasperated, she rolled out of bed, deciding she may as well at least start by getting out of bed and dressed.

Freshly showered and dressed, she left her room, wandering down the hall to the kitchen with the mindset to grab her purse and coat and leave. Instead, she froze on the threshold at the scene within.

Her father sat at the table, the paper in one hand, a pen in the other and a look of pure determination on his face.

Hope leapt into her chest even as she braced herself. “Hey Dad, what are you doing?”

Please say job hunting!

Without looking up, he tapped the paper with the end of his pen. “Trying to solve this weekend’s crossword. I swear it gets harder every week.”

Riley’s shoulders drooped. The spark of hope shriveled up and died. Well, she had no one to blame but herself for jumping the gun.

“I’m going out,” she muttered, snatching up her things and making to leave.

“Rye?” he called after her, using her childhood nickname.

She paused at the door to swing her coat on. “Yeah?”

“Can you grab me a pack of smokes?”

Riley froze. “Since when do you smoke?”

He shrugged, gaze still fixed on the crossword. “Back in college. It used to relax me.”

“What in the world are you stressed about?” The words jumped from her mouth before she could stop it and it was too late to suck it back as his gaze lifted to her.

“I have plenty of stress, Riley. I just don’t show it.”

Like what?
She wanted to scream. But the fight wasn’t in her. She didn’t want it to be.

She left before the words could burst free, unleashing themselves from the chains around her chest. She wished she could just say them, to just hurl them at him and watch them cut deep, but he was her father. She had no choice. She couldn’t leave him like her mother had.

At the steps of her apartment, she deflated, dropping where she stood. She drew her legs into her chest and rested her forehead against her knees as her anger and misery lashed in a battle of wills. It was a tossup which was more potent. Both seemed adamant to drown her. She should have stayed in bed.

Sniffling back the tears clinging to her lashes, Riley rose to her feet. She dusted off her bottom and descended the rest of the steps. Her sneakers made no sound as she padded quietly to her car. She climbed in and drove in no particular direction.

In the end, she wound up parking the car in front of the library and walking aimlessly along the street, pausing every so often to eye an outfit in the window. There was never any hope of buying any of it, not when even a belt cost more than twenty dollars, but that didn’t stop her from making a mental check list of all the things she would get if she ever came into money. It was fun, if not a bit discouraging and pathetic. At least she wasn’t at home hiding under her blankets.

She passed the post office and paused, mind drawing a blank as she tried to remember if she ever sent off the rent. She remembered getting paid and then waking up in her bed, which was odd because she never slept in her underthings. Everything else about that day was a blur. She made a mental note to check with the phone company to see if they got their payment.

Moving onward, she continued towards the higher end stuff, stuff she could never in a million years afford, not even if she saved every paycheck from now until the end of time. Just walking the sidewalk made her feel out of place.

Guilt won over, she began turning back, needing to return to the thrift shops and bargain bins when something in one of the glossy windows caught her like a moth to a flame.

The dress was beyond gorgeous. Red satin with straps around the neck and a full skirt that would have made Marilyn Monroe proud, it was the gem of dresses. Not that she would ever have a place to wear such an extravagant thing, but… God, it was beautiful. The beadwork across the bodice showered down the front, falling like dew drops on a rose petal across the skirt. Riley couldn’t imagine what the price tag on such a gown would be, but she was sure the teller wouldn’t even let her touch the material without a hefty down payment.

“Riley?”

Riley jumped at the unexpected interruption to her drooling. Her head came up, turning away from her dream dress to find Octavian standing a few feet away with a curious look on his face as he took her in.

“Hi!” she said. “What are you doing here?”

He jerked a head towards the shops along the street. “Running some errands.” He moved to stand at her side and observe the dress. “It’s beautiful.”

Riley sighed without thinking. “Yeah, it is, and so very out of my budget.”

Octavian said nothing, but studied the gown with a contemplating tilt of his head.

“Are you heading back to work?” she asked, breaking the silence.

He shook his head. “I don’t work until this evening. I usually get the mornings off since I do the majority of the bartending at night.”

She already knew that, but she didn’t want to rush the conversation and have him leave.

“What brings you here?” he asked, turning away from the dress to focus on her.

Riley jerked her shoulders in a shrug. “It’s my day off. I’m kind of just wandering around.”

His eyes narrowed. “So you’re not busy?”

She shook her head. “No. What?” she asked when he continued to eye her.

“How would you feel about helping me with a task?”

Suspicion had her eyebrow arching. “What kind of task?”

“Mom’s birthday’s coming up—”

“Ah!” she interrupted. “That explains what she meant by feeling her age. Gotcha. Continue.”

His mouth quirked into a half smile. “I want to buy her something she’ll like.”

“You mean something cooler than a label maker?” she teased, earning a scowl from him. “That’s going to be hard to beat.”

“They told you about that, did they?”

“Reggie,” she said.

“It seemed like a really good idea at the time,” he muttered defensively.

Riley chuckled. “Hey, I’m on your side. Label makers rock.”

His eyes narrowed warily. “I can’t tell if you’re mocking me or not.”

“Noooo.” She shook her head. “Nope. I wouldn’t do that.”

“I don’t believe you.” But he let the matter drop as he continued. “Dad wants to have a party for her at the diner. I’m hoping that since you’re a girl…”

Riley bit her lip, holding back the grin threatening to show. “How observant of you.”

“What I mean is that you’ll know if I get her something stupid again.”

Enjoying his discomfort a bit more than she should, Riley narrowed her eyes. “What’s in it for me?”

Something in the air solidified as tension swam up around them. His eyes became dark pools of silver. “What do you want?”

Unconsciously, her gaze dropped to his lips, her mind already made up. But uncertainty had her hesitating. “I reserve the right to call you on it at a later time. When I do, you have to swear to honor it.”

His hesitation was palpable. She could almost taste it. Then, very slowly, he nodded. “I swear.”

She grinned. “Then you have a deal.”

They didn’t shake on it. Instead, he motioned for her to follow him further up the money highway, the land of no return. Several times, Riley tried to tell him neither of them could afford even breathing the air on that side of the town, but she could never bring herself to say the words out loud.

“What about a purse?” she asked as they passed several designer bags on a display case behind a window.

He shook his head. “She has a million of them.”

“A woman can never have enough purses.” she countered, but continued onward. “How about a watch?” She stopped to point at a beautiful gold watch with a pearl face in a jewelry shop window.

“Magnus got her one.”

“Shoes?”

“I don’t know her size.”

“Scarf?”

“What would she do with it?”

“Wear it?” But the way he was watching her as though she’d lost her mind made her question her own sanity regarding the silky scraps of fabric.

He shook his head. “Something else.”

“A dress?”

They paused outside a boutique and surveyed the mannequin poised behind the display window. It was wearing a beautiful flower printed dress that was clearly not made for the winter weather.

“A dress would work,” he mused. Then, without waiting for her, he yanked open the door to the shop and ushered her inside.

Riley grimaced. “Octavian, we really shouldn’t—” But her warning to leave before they were laughed out of the store was interrupted by a tall, unnaturally skinny man in a thousand dollar suit. He glided out from behind a set of burgundy curtains with his bony hands interlocked at his midsection. He eyed them from down the length of his parrot nose.

“May I help you?” His voice oozed with snobbish arrogance. Already he was thinking they didn’t belong. Riley could see it in the way he took in Octavian’s black jeans and leather jacket, but the disgust intensified when his gaze jumped to her worn jeans and thrift shop jacket. Maybe he was hoping she would be dressed better because she was a girl. What a disappointment for him.