Ruin Read online

  “My parents met in a Greek mythology lecture when they were at college. My dad’s lame pick-up line was that, if he and my mom had a kid together, they should call him Zeus ’cause with my mom’s beauty and brains and my dad’s size, their kid would be godlike. Clearly, she fell for it because here I am.” He spreads his arms.

  “And are you?”

  “What?” He turns his face to me.

  “Godlike?” Because, from where I’m sitting, you sure as hell look like one.

  Zeus’s eyes hold mine for a long time. “No,” he says softly. “I bleed just like everyone else, Dove.”

  The ride comes to a stop, leaving us stationary at the top.

  “Ride must be over,” Zeus muses, looking over the edge. “They’re letting people off.”

  I feel a spike of sadness that it’s almost to the end. I could stay on here with him forever.

  Something wet hits my nose. Then, my forehead.

  “Is it raining?” I say right as the heavens open. I mean, they open wide. It’s pouring down.

  “I’d say so.” Zeus laughs.

  “Jesus! I’m getting soaked!”

  The shelter over the top of the car is doing nothing to shield us. I can hear the other people on the wheel squawking out their dismay over the sound of the music playing.

  “Come on. Move, Mr. Ferris Wheel,” I chant, now wishing for the ride to hurry up so that I can get off it and under some shelter.

  Zeus pulls off his jacket. “Here, put this over your head,” he offers.

  “You’ll get soaked.”

  “I’m fine. It’s just a bit of rain.”

  “Share it?”

  “Okay.”

  He holds the jacket over our heads, and I have to move in a little closer to get us both under the shelter.

  I look up, and his face is so close to mine. I can see the droplets of water on his face. Feel the heat of his breath on my cheek.

  I somehow register the song that’s currently pumping out of the speakers on the ground below.

  “Do you think it’s a little ironic that ‘Umbrella’ is playing while it’s raining like the Great Flood is about to start?”

  He purses his lips in the most adorable way. “That, or fate.”

  “Fate?”

  “Mmhmm.”

  “How so?”

  He’s staring at my lips, and it’s making my heart beat faster. My pulse is racing off, sending adrenaline shooting through my veins.

  His gaze lifts to mine. “I have no clue.”

  He smiles, eyes dancing with humor, and I laugh.

  God, he’s gorgeous. And I can’t stop staring at him.

  My breaths are coming in shallow, and I notice his are, too.

  I inhale, and my lungs fill with him. That heady, spicy smell of his mixed in with the cool scent of rain does crazy things to me. Hormones are setting off inside me like rockets.

  Water trickles down his cheek, catching on his upper lip.

  And I really want to catch those raindrops with my lips.

  So, I do.

  I don’t know what comes over me, but without a second thought, I lean in and press my lips to his.

  Shit. I’m kissing him!

  And…he’s not kissing me back.

  I make a strangled sound in my throat as I pull back at the realization of what I just did.

  I kissed him, and he didn’t kiss me back.

  Can I please die now?

  God, I’m so freaking dumb. Of course he’s not interested in me in that way. He’s older and gorgeous. He could have anyone.

  “Oh God,” I groan, covering my face with my hands. “I’m so sorry, Zeus. After my big don’t-try-to-cop-a-feel lecture, I attack you with my lips. I really don’t know why I did that.” Well, I do. He’s hot, and I’m stupid. “Can we just pretend that never happened?”

  “No.”

  My heart pauses. “No?” I lower my hands from my face.

  The shield of his jacket is now gone, and he’s staring at me with this intensity in his eyes that makes my toes curl up in my sneakers.

  “No.” He slides a hand around my cheek, cupping my face. “Even if I did want to pretend it never happened, which I don’t, I wouldn’t be able to. Because it’s scorched in my memory.”

  “Scorched in your memory in a good way?”

  “The best way.”

  He smiles, and I feel like I’m falling or floating or something.

  Rain trickles onto my lips. He catches it with his thumb, making me shiver.

  His eyes focus there, and my insides are swirling like a whirlpool.

  “Are you going to kiss me?” I whisper.

  “I want to…”

  “I hear a but.”

  His eyes lift to mine. “You’re fifteen. And I’m seventeen.”

  All my good feelings come to a halt. “And?”

  Silence stretches between us.

  He hasn’t stopped looking at me, and I don’t know what this means or what I’m feeling. All I know is that I want to be with him. This guy I’ve known for only a short period of time. But he’s making me feel things I’ve never felt before, and I want to keep feeling them.

  “And”—his lip lifts at the corner, giving me that gorgeous smile of his—“we’ll take it slow, Dove.”

  “Whoa! Slow down, Gigi.”

  My little ballerina comes flying past me in the kitchen, doing a running leap, and I catch hold of her and scoop her up into my arms. She wraps her tiny legs around my waist.

  “Mommy.” She frowns at me, disapproving, that cute little dimple appearing between her beautiful brows. “I was pwacticing my leaps.”

  “I know what you were doing, Gigi girl, and it’s good to practice.” I tweak her nose with my thumb and finger. “But the kitchen is not the place to do it. And you’re going to be at ballet class in thirty minutes, so you’ll be doing lots of practice then.”

  “We need a dance studio here, so I can pwactice all the time.”

  I smile at her. “Now, wouldn’t that be something?”

  “Can we have one?”

  Her face lights up, and I chuckle.

  “No, Gigi girl. Maybe if we lived in a mansion, but not here, in Granny Elle’s house.”

  She twists in my arms, turning her face to Aunt Elle, who’s standing at the counter, making coffee. “Granny Elle, can I have a dance studio here, pwease?”

  Aunt Elle comes over and takes her from my arms. Gigi wraps herself around her like a blanket.

  “Pwease, Granny Elle. I weally, weally want one.” She plants her hands on Aunt Elle’s cheeks and gives her doe eyes.

  She has Zeus’s eyes. Big and blue and hard to say no to.

  “Of course you can.” Aunt Elle folds like a pack of cards.

  “Yay!” Gigi squeals, and I groan. “Granny Elle, you da best!” She smacks a kiss to her cheek. Then, she wriggles out of Aunt Elle’s arms and runs out of the kitchen.

  “Stop running! And don’t mess your hair up or get your clothes dirty! And get your ballet shoes from your room. We’re leaving soon!” I call after her.

  “You know that girl isn’t listening to a word you say, right?” Aunt Elle chuckles.

  “Yep. Because someone just promised her a dance studio in the house.” I give a pointed look, and Aunt Elle laughs again.

  “She’s impossible to say no to. Especially when she’s dressed up, all cute, in her ballet clothes. She reminds me of you at that age. Guess I’ll just have to convert the dining room into a dance studio for her.”

  I bark out a laugh. “Yeah, and we’ll eat in the living room, balancing our dinners on our knees. Why do you have such a problem saying no to her? You never had any problem saying no to me when I was growing up.”

  Aunt Elle pours me a coffee and hands me the mug. I take it from her.

  “Because you’re my kid, Cam. It’s easier to say no to your own kid. Grandkids, impossible.”

  My heart always swells to combustion when she says things
like that. And feeling emotional after last night’s events, I put my coffee down on the counter and wrap my arms around her.

  “I love you,” I tell her.

  She presses a kiss to my temple. “Love you, too, girl.”

  As I move back, she takes my face in her hands and stares into my eyes. “Everything okay with you?”

  I bite my lip and shake my head. “I saw Zeus last night,” I say quietly. “He was at the club.”

  A multitude of emotions flashes through her eyes. Anger being the main one. “That’s why you were home early last night.”

  “Did I wake you when I came in?”

  “I was in bed, reading. I never sleep until you’re home. You should know that by now.”

  I touch my hand to hers. Then, I step back from her, pick up my coffee, and take a sip.

  “Did he speak to you?”

  I nod.

  “What did he say?”

  “He asked what I was doing there.”

  She frowns. “At the club?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what did you say?”

  “I said that I was working.”

  “Did he ask about…” Aunt Elle nods in the direction of the door where Gigi just disappeared through a minute ago.

  I let out a heavy sigh and put my cup down. “No.”

  Her eyes blaze, nostrils flaring. “That mother…effing…craptastic…A-hole!” Aunt Elle whispers out her fire.

  We’re a curse-free zone here. Gigi has the ears of a bat and the voice box of a parrot. She hears and repeats everything. And I mean, everything.

  “I’m not surprised, Aunt Elle. You shouldn’t be either. He made his feelings perfectly clear five years ago.”

  “I know, but still…” She grits her teeth. Jaw working angrily.

  “It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t matter.”

  “No, he doesn’t. You and Gigi have done just fine without him,” Aunt Elle adds.

  “Yeah,” I agree. But Gigi shouldn’t have had to, I silently add.

  Aunt Elle puts some bread in the toaster.

  “Can you put a slice in for me? I’m just gonna go grab Gigi’s ballet shoes and get her ready to leave.”

  “Sure thing.”

  I stop at the kitchen door. “You want to go out for dinner tonight?” I ask her. “You, me, and Gigi. Girls’ night?”

  “You’re not working at the club?”

  “No. I think I’m gonna quit. Just in case…you know.”

  Her face softens. “I know. And I’d love to go out for dinner with my girls. Where are you thinking?”

  “DiMaggio’s?” I suggest.

  “Italian’s always good.” She smiles.

  “Oh, and I need to ask for a favor. Would you mind watching Gigi for a few hours on Wednesday night?”

  “Sure. No problem. You seeing Rich?”

  “Mmhmm.” My cheeks redden a little.

  Aunt Elle knows about my arrangement with Rich. She doesn’t pass judgment. Probably because she saw what I went through with Zeus. That, and she’s never had a serious relationship in her life.

  “Married to the job,” she always tells me.

  “I won’t go out until she’s in bed.”

  “Cam, you should go out. And not just to Rich’s for a booty call.”

  “Please never say that again,” I groan, slapping a hand to my face.

  She laughs. “Go out and enjoy yourself. Get Rich to take you out for dinner or drinks.”

  Okay, so I take it back. She never used to interfere. I’m wondering if me seeing Zeus last night has set this off.

  “We don’t do that,” I tell her. “And I go out enough.”

  She turns, facing me, and rests her hip against the counter. “You should do that. Rich likes you. A lot. I can tell. He’s always asking me about you. He’s a good guy, Cam. He’d take care of you.”

  “You mean, he’s not Zeus.”

  “No, he isn’t. You need to start living your life, Cam.”

  “I am living it.” I defensively fold my arms.

  “Your life centers around Gigi. And that’s great. It should. You’re an amazing mother. But you don’t do anything for yourself. You don’t go out. You don’t date. And I know it’s because of him and what he did.”

  “You haven’t committed to a man,” I cut her off. “You never had a man in your life while I was growing up. And you still don’t now.”

  She sighs and runs a hand through her long, dark hair. “But that’s not because of what someone did to me. The moment I became a cop, I married my job. And, when you came to me…you needed me. The life you had with your mom…God, I loved my sister, Cam. And I don’t want to speak ill of your mom, but she didn’t do right by you. She was an addict. She moved you around all the time. Let different men in and out of her life. I tried to help her, get her clean, but she wouldn’t listen. She fought me at every turn. She was too far gone for me to help her. But you weren’t. And, if I’m being honest here, I was going to go after custody of you anyway if she hadn’t died.”

  I suck in a breath. “You never told me that.”

  She lifts a shoulder. “I loved you. And I wanted you safe. You needed security and stability, Cam. I’m married to the badge. I had room for only one person in my life back then, and it was you.”

  I can feel myself getting weepy. I’m not usually this emotional, but seeing Zeus last night has really knocked me off course.

  Aunt Elle walks over, standing before me, and takes hold of my long hair, smoothing it over my shoulders. “I just want you to have something for yourself,” she says.

  “I dance,” I say softly.

  “At the club, which is work. I just want you to go out this once, let your hair down, and have fun.”

  “Okay,” I concede. “I’ll go out for drinks with Rich. Happy?”

  She smiles winningly. “Yep.”

  I roll my eyes right as the doorbell rings. “I’ll get it,” I tell her.

  After I walk out of her embrace, I stop and look back at her. “I know I don’t call you Mom, but I think of you as my mother. You know that, right?”

  Her expression goes tender. “I know.”

  The doorbell rings again.

  “Christ. Impatient much? Coming!” I yell.

  I walk out of the kitchen, heading for the front door, and I pass the stairs. “Gigi, you got those ballet shoes yet? We’re leaving in a few minutes.”

  “I’m getting them now!” Her voice sounds high-pitched and squeaky, and it only gets that way when she’s doing something she shouldn’t be.

  I pause at the foot of the stairs. “Gigi?”

  The bell rings again.

  I look over my shoulder at the door and yell, “I’m coming!” Then, my eyes go back to the stairs. “Giselle Grace Reed, get your cute little butt down here right now.”

  She appears at the top of the stairs, stepping out from behind the wall.

  “Oh, for the love of all that is holy. Gigi!”

  I’m guessing what was my new red lipstick is now smeared all over her face. She looks like a clown.

  “What were you thinking?”

  She shrugs. “I’m sorry, Mommy. But it was just there, and it was so pwetty. I’m weally sorry.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Go in the bathroom. I’m gonna answer the door, and then I’ll be there to help you wash it off.”

  She hightails it off to the bathroom. I mutter a few choice words under my breath and head for the front door.

  I bend down and pick up the mail. Then, I unlock the door and swing it open, and my heart stops. “Jesus!” The mail drops from my hand, scattering to the floor.

  His lip lifts at the corner, giving me his trademark half-smile. “Well, I still go by Zeus, but you can call me Jesus if you like.”

  “How about I call you nothing and you get the hell off my porch? How does that sound?”

  His hands lift in surrender. “I just want to talk, Cam.”

  “We have nothi
ng to talk about. Except maybe how the hell you know where I live.”

  “Mommy!”

  Gigi.

  Fuck.

  “I’ll be there in a minute, baby,” I call back. I can hear the tremor in my voice. I just hope he can’t.

  I quickly step out onto the porch and pull the door closed behind me.

  I look back to Zeus. He’s looking beyond me, at the door. But I recognize the expression in his eyes.

  Pain.

  And that just makes me angrier.

  “You need to leave, Zeus. Now.”

  His eyes flash down to mine. “Cam—”

  But he’s cut off when the door flies open behind me.

  “Mommy, I got it off! All by myself! See? I used wet wipes and the wipstick came wight off.”

  My eyes swing down to Gigi. She’s still got lipstick marks on her face. But I can’t focus on that. Because her father is standing right there, in front of her, and she has no clue who he is.

  Anger twists my gut.

  I feel helpless and hurt and fucking livid.

  I don’t know what to do. All I do know is that I want to get Gigi away from him, so he can’t hurt her like he hurt me.

  But, before I even get the chance to get her back inside, she spots him.

  “Who are you?” She steps forward, squeezing beside me, and tips her head back. Her eyes—his eyes—stare up at him in question.

  My stomach drops out. “He’s no one,” I say quickly before he can speak. “Just the new mailman. You go back inside, Gigi. I’ll be in there in a sec.”

  “We have a new mailman? Aw, but I wiked our old one. He told funny jokes. Do you tell funny jokes, New Mailman?”

  I look up to Zeus, who is staring down at Gigi. His brow is creased. The way it always got when he was puzzled. When he couldn’t quite figure something out.

  He shakes his head without taking his eyes from her. “I don’t know any jokes, kid. Sorry.”

  Kid. He called her kid. Like he doesn’t even know her.

  But he doesn’t.

  I think I’m going to throw up.

  “Gigi girl, can you go inside, please?” I say.

  She ignores me and carries on. “S’okay,” she says to him with a shrug. “I’ll teach you some. I know lots. So, what’s your name, Mr. Mailman? Our old one was called Burt. My name’s Giselle Grace Reed. Everyone calls me Gigi. I have my granny Elle’s name. She’s called Giselle, too, like me, but everyone calls her Elle. And I have my other granny’s name, too—Grace—but I’ve never met her. She’s in heaven, Mommy says.”