Page 16 of His Secret Betrayal (Cedarwood Valley Duology #2)

Luke

“ D ude, are your fucking eyes painted on?” Caleb grouches, his thumbs mashing down on the video game controller way harder than necessary. He shoots me a dirty look, letting his ire be known after I failed to back him up when another player snuck up behind his character and knifed him.

“Piss off,” I snark back.

I met Caleb during freshman orientation at Crestwood Heights University, and we’ve been thick as thieves ever since. Caleb just…gets me. If there’s anybody I can be myself around, it’s him. I can’t help but wonder how he would feel about my attraction to his dad. After all, they are close.

Caleb once told me he is the product of a one-night stand.

Although his mom and Alek were virtual strangers to one another, neither of them interested in forming romantic attachments at the time, they became fast friends as they learned to co-parent together.

As soon as Caleb graduated high school, his mother finally pursued her own dreams by taking a contract job as a travel RN, picking up various jobs in high-need areas.

Although they communicate regularly, he spends more time with his dad.

Alek had once told Caleb that finding out he was going to be a father was the best—albeit, most shocking—day of his life.

Caleb curses, his face flushing red as he throws the controller onto the coffee table in front of us with a thud and gestures towards the massive TV screen. “Can you believe this guy? He’s like the living embodiment of a peanut butter and cum sandwich.”

Coughing into my fist, I clamp my lips down.

Caleb’s normally even-tempered manners are the first thing to fly out the window whenever he picks up a game controller.

I’ve heard my fair share of oddly unique and hilarious insults fly out of his mouth.

When the words ‘Game Over’ flashes across the screen, followed by a row of gamer stats, I put my own controller down.

A massive yawn escapes me, my jaw cracking as it stretches.

“Late night?” Caleb waggles his eyebrows from his spot next to me on his brown, leather couch, his grin conspiratorial. Heat creeps across my cheeks and I avert my eyes, reaching my hand inside the open bag of potato chips next to me for a distraction.

Caleb cackles, swatting my shoulder. “So, you did go out last night. Spill the beans! ”

I’m definitely not going to share the details of what I did with his dad. How would that conversation even go?

“Your dad was knuckle deep in my ass last night, and I let him suck my cock in a cleaning supply closet. It was the best almost sex of my life. And also, your dad’s dick is thick AF.”

Yeah, no.

I shrug as I shove a mouthful of chips into my mouth, the salt exploding across my taste buds as I crunch. “Nothing much to tell.”

Caleb gives me a skeptical look before snatching the bag from my hands and sticking his own into it. He only grins at my scowl. “I’m sensing there’s a story here,” he sing-songs.

Yeah, your dad is the story.

“I had a few drinks, danced a little, and went home.”

His eyebrows furrow like maybe he doesn’t believe me, and I begin sweating. He shouldn’t have any reason to suspect I was hooking up with his dad, but that doesn’t stop my pulse from skittering. I subconsciously wipe my palms along the thighs of my jeans.

“Just blowing off some steam,” I add, trying for a casual shrug.

At this, he seems to soften. “Learning a new job can be rough, yeah? What’s it like working for my dad?”

My mouth goes dry. “Um, good. He can be strict sometimes, but he seems like a fair boss.”

That actually is the truth. He’s this odd mix of strict but also laid-back and understanding.

On one of my first days there, I saw him practically ream some poor guy out for being late.

And then there was the weird incident where he moved my desk into his office for “training purposes” after he caught Finn flirting with me.

Which, honestly, had I known working in Alek’s office was going to be the result, I would have flirted with Finn for real.

But he also lets me take my time on my training modules and work at my own pace.

He encourages his employees to focus on quality over quantity, and he makes sure everyone is taking adequate breaks.

He nods before releasing a breathless chuckle. “Good. Imagine how awkward it would be for me if you guys hated each other.”

I almost cringe.

Yeah, that’s not going to be a problem.

Caleb’s phone pings, distracting him for a moment and allowing my mind to wander. There is one question I’ve been meaning to ask him…

“Hey, why does your dad always wear fancy business attire with long sleeves if he has a casual dress code policy for the company?”

Caleb freezes, his body tensing and getting a far-away look before he seems to snap back to reality. He sets his phone back down before absently scratching his jaw. Something about the way he refuses to look at me makes my stomach tighten.

“Um, I’m not really sure that’s my story to tell,” he finally hedges.

“Oh, yeah. Of course.”

Caleb smiles gratefully before asking if I want to play another round.

I agree and try not to look too curious.

Does Alek have self-esteem issues, or maybe an ugly tattoo?

Both are hard to imagine. Yet, I haven’t seen Alek in anything other than perfectly pressed white, long-sleeve business shirts and form-fitting trousers.

I’m not complaining. He’s got this whole hot daddy-slash-professor look going on, and it works for him.

But from what Caleb has mentioned in the past, Alek spends a lot of time honing his body at the gym.

He has broad shoulders and muscles for days, so why doesn’t he ever want to show them off?

Somedays, just glimpsing his forearms makes me flush like I’m watching porn .

I wonder what he would look like in a pair of gray sweatpants and a loose shirt or tank top. Honestly, he could wear a paper sack, and I would still pop a semi.

And isn’t that damn confusing.

“Just perfect,” I mutter sarcastically to myself, a few hours later, while I sit inside my car and stare forlornly toward my apartment.

After spending a few more hours at Caleb’s place, the sun started to sink behind the sky, my stomach along with it.

It’s Saturday night, which means if I don’t keep an eye on Evelyn, she’s likely to go on another bender.

Her boyfriend’s car is parked out front. Never a good sign.

My happiness from earlier dissipates as I stroll down the sidewalk toward the front door.

My brain creates a mental tally of everything that could go wrong as I stick my key into the lock, my chest beginning to feel tight.

The door slowly swings open and, immediately, an angry voice carries to me down the hallway and my lips pinch.

But the words I hear send a wave of fury through me.

“Stop acting like a stupid, useless cunt and figure out a way to get—”

“Kevin, stop! Luke will be home any minute and—”

“Evelyn?” I call out, my pulse beginning to race as I rush through the living area and down the short hallway. Kevin, Evelyn’s boyfriend, is crowding her against the wall in front of her bedroom. His hand is tight around her jaw, his angry, splotchy-red face only inches from her.

This fucker .

Jamming my shoulder between the two of them, my arm slams down over the crook of Kevin’s elbow.

He releases a pained grunt before stumbling back.

I plant both hands on his chest and shove.

His eyes widen a fraction as he flies backwards, his back thumping against the wall.

Behind me, Evelyn lets out an outraged little screech.

Within seconds, Kevin is in my face as he backs me against the wall.

His eyes are wild and crazy, the scent of unwashed body odor wafting off him as he bares his teeth like an angry, rabid dog.

There are gaps in his yellowed teeth where several are missing, and a few others look to be in various stages of decay.

As I throw an arm out to hold him back, I notice the multitude of track marks along his inner arms. His light brown hair is thinning at the top, the white tank top stained, and frayed jeans baggy on his thin frame.

What Evelyn sees in him, I’ll never understand.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Kevin shouts.

I grimace. “I’m standing right here, Stoney. No need to yell.”

“His name isn’t Stoney!” Evelyn screeches.

At the same time, Stoney growls, “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop calling me that and stay in your own lane.”

“Yeah, no can do,” I tell him. The first time I met him, and every time after, he’s carried the distinct scent of pot on him.

While I’m definitely pro-recreational marijuana, I don’t know where the hell he gets his stuff.

One day, the nickname Stoney slipped out, and he got so huffy about it that I cackled for five minutes straight.

It’s stuck ever since, much to Evelyn’s and Stoney’s irritation.

Shoving at his arms, I manage to wiggle out of his hold and to the left a few steps. His rage-filled eyes follow me, his nostrils flaring and body tensing like he’s ready to pounce any second. Everything inside me tenses in response .

“I’ll make you a deal, asshat. Keep your hands off her, and I’ll stop calling you stupid nicknames.” I’ve never been much of a fighter, but something inside me is singing for his blood. I want to pummel my fist into his pock-marked face and knock out the last of his teeth.

But unfortunately, that won’t help anything. It won’t make Evelyn leave him, because she’s stubborn like that. I don’t want her to suffer the consequences of my actions, and I can’t guarantee he won’t turn on her in retaliation.

I don’t actually know for sure he’s ever put his hands on Evelyn before today, but he’s well-known around town for his mean streak.

“Luke, enough,” Evelyn hisses, her small hand wrapping around my bicep. I wince, shaking it off when sharp nails dig into my skin.

“I don’t know who you think you are, boy ,” Stoney taunts me, taking a step forward, “but this is between me and your mother. You need to stay out of private conversations. Now, go to your room, pat yourself on the back, and tell yourself how special you are for standing up to the big, bad wolf who yelled at your mommy.”

When his lips pull into an overly-dramatic pout for extra effect, I see red.

My blood heats as I step forward, jabbing a finger into his chest while my other hand clenches into a fist. Spittle flies from my mouth as my tone turns into something dark, something that festers and rages, and wants to hurt.

I’m too focused on my blinding rage to care about consequences right now.

“If you ever touch Evelyn again, I’ll knock out the rest of your ugly, rotten teeth and maybe, while I’m at it, I’ll tell the cops how much you struggle to keep your hands off innocent women. I imagine it would be hard to get your next fix inside a jail cell, Stoney.”

Unfortunately, I don’t see his fist until it’s too late.