turkey. “Or maybe you lose it around him because you’re not used to people seeing who you really are. It scares you,” she calls me out, “which means it’s real, Ryn. Whatever you feel for Rocco Shay is wreaking havoc on all those complicated feelings inside of you, and I’m not gonna lie, I love watching it unfold.”
I scowl in her direction, but she ignores me, tending to her lunch that apparently is supposed to make Parker fall more in love with her. Like that’s even possible.
Chapter Ten
Rocco
There’s a bounce in Camryn’s step I’ve never seen. That’s not saying that it’s missing when I’m not around, but considering the way Dominic and Codi keep glancing her way with their eyebrows kissing, I’m thinkin’ it’s as new for them as it is for me.
It’s stupid as shit, but I feel fucking powerful knowin’ I put it there. They would’ve tried, but they failed. It’s because they won’t look deep enough to see what she needs.
Power.
She’s sick and fucking tired of jumping at her own shadow. She’s exhausted by the monsters that creep into her dreams. She doesn’t just want them to go away, she wants to fucking destroy them.
It was the gloves. I don’t doubt it for a second. I know because I feel the same thing the moment I step into the ring. Adrenaline pumping through your veins, your fight instinct taking over… you’re invincible. You dare the world to come at you because you know you’ll fuck every last fucker up.
It’s a feeling as dangerous as it is freeing. It can make you stupid, reckless even. But it gives you something nothing else can or will. The power of freedom is too tempting to pass up. You’d bet your life on it, time and time again.
I don’t second guess myself a lot. It ain’t healthy. But buying Camryn Rein a Christmas gift was an exception. I honestly have zero clue what I was thinking. It was awkward as fuck, to say the least.
I didn’t need her reading into it, thinking that I consider us friends.
We’re not. Nor will we ever be.
We’re forced acquaintances, reluctant family members. We’d both value the reality of never having to cross one another’s path ever again. Unfortunately for both of us, it seems that little dream might stay in the land of make-believe for the foreseeable future.
I was minding my business when I saw them. Eyes catching on the candy apple colored gloves and knew she had to have them.
I could see her clearly in my mind’s eye. Long brown hair blowing around her shoulders. Small frame dressed in tiny shorts and tank tight enough to see her nipples. Fiery eyes and tanned skin glowing in challenge. Finished off gloves on her fists, ready to fight. Obviously my libido got twisted up in there somewhere, sexualizing her in a way she’d sever my head for. Truth be told, that only makes my dick harder.
I see something in her that I feel in myself, and even I have enough heart to realize that’s fucking unacceptable. She shouldn’t have to feel that way. No one like Camryn Rein should. I deserve my self-inflicted hate. No matter what haunts her at night, no matter what forces her to turn her back on the world, she doesn’t or didn’t warrant it. That’s a fact I know to be true. If in the end, my one good deed for this family is to rid even a little of that for her, I’ll die thinking maybe, just maybe, I did something right.
“Gloves were a genius idea,” Dominic interrupts my reflection, a smile on his face that makes me believe he was reading my thoughts. “Kicking myself I hadn’t thought of it.” He ushers me away from the rest of our family—currently gathered around the kitchen counter, pouring mulled wine and talking shit. “There was something on her face when I caught her in her room after unboxing them... a fight to survive I can’t recall ever seeing on her face. Thank you.”
I shrug, not caring to respond.
“Something went incredibly wrong in my daughter’s life,” he confides, stepping into his office, expecting me to follow. “It started young, Sarah always rejected the idea of her, so she was never gifted the love of a mother. I worked a lot, so I guess in hindsight, she also felt abandoned by me.”
“Not easy for a kid,” I offer neutrally.
“Hmm,” he agrees, lifting a bottle of whiskey in offer.