Page 7 of Nevermore (A Cruel Love #1)

FIVE

REIGN

I walk into the house with a groan.

Mama smiles wildly at Emiliano as he kisses her goodbye and excuses himself to work. She turns to me—still beaming—and grabs my hand. “Well, what did you think, baby?”

On top of getting lost in that mansion not once but twice , I had to endure stares and sneers from all the fancy people at that party and be humiliated by Santiago’s friend right in front of him.

Yeah, I’m not dumb. I have every certainty that his friends were fucking with me.

At least one of them was. It was a bit of a culture shock to see them.

Why do these teenagers look so… put together?

Speaking properly, all pressed and ready, it was disconcerting.

Kingston was a complete asshole, even though he didn’t actually say anything bad.

But I sat there and took it. What was I supposed to do?

Burst into tears my first day into this life?

Fuck that. Maybe another braver person would have said something, but I couldn’t bring myself to.

Pathetic.

But even though I tell Mama everything, this is something I’m unwilling to share. She looks so excited for me, so hopeful, and it would crush my heart to crush hers. “It was great,” I lie. “I met some of Santiago’s friends.”

“Perfect!” she cheers. She reaches into her purse, pulling out a new wallet I don’t recognize. “Want to get some ice cream?”

Today has been one of the longest days of my life. I’m ready to put on some Toby Keith, get in my pajamas, and call it a night. “I don’t think so, Mama. I’m beat.”

She nods in understanding and reaches for my hand. “That’s fine. So, do you think Santi’s friends can be yours too?”

She asks this with such optimism it makes me uncomfortable.

She’s never hidden the fact that she worries about me not being social.

She tells me I’m perfect just the way I am, which is hard to believe, and she says the right people will see it.

Back home, I was constantly asked if I was going out, if I had a date, if there were any parties being thrown I could attend.

How do I tell her that I don’t even have the means to meet those ‘right people’ that’ll appreciate me? That Santiago’s asshole friend, Kingston, was three seconds away from making me cry like a third grader?

I open my mouth to speak but she cuts me off, fumbling over her words as her voice chokes up. “It’s just that, I know this is such a big change for you. I was hopin’ you’d branch out a little more here, you know? Really make some connections during the summer.”

I can sense her guilt. I can see it in the way her eyes grow dim with sadness and she gnaws at the inside of her cheek. I don’t want her to think that she needs to trade her happiness for mine, I’d rather have it the other way, so I smile as best as I can.

“Yeah.” Another lie. “Everyone’s been real welcomin’.” Is my nose growing yet? “There’s even a party tonight I was invited to.”

“Really?” She squeals.. “Baby, that’s wonderful! Are you going with Santiago?”

“Yup,” I say, fucking with my uncomfortable tie.

“That’s such great news.” She sniffles, wiping her misting eyes with the back of her hand. “I knew this would be a good thing for us. I just knew it.”

My Mama, ever the optimist. I only have to do this for one summer. I’ll make her think that I’m fitting in and acclimating to my new surroundings. I’ll play happy for as long as I have to so she doesn’t feel like she’s made a mistake.

No matter how much that’s starting to sound true.

Clearing my throat, I switch the conversation. “Did you have fun today?”

And, as I guessed, she gushes as she tells me all about how the party went for her.

She spares no detail. From the gourmet breakfast that was made for her to salmon bites she tried at the party, I hear it all.

She’s never been like me. It’s easy for her to meet people and have them immediately fall in love with her.

I don’t know what my dad was like, but I’m guessing my aversion to touch and social interaction comes entirely from him.

But looks like in order to survive here, I have to channel my inner Mama and try harder. It shouldn’t be too bad.

Right?

Yup.

It’s bad.

After some searching, I finally found Santiago’s room hidden in the far end of our wing. It’s like it’s purposefully difficult to find, which shouldn’t surprise me based on how little I know of him so far.

I stand in front of his door, dressed in the best clothes I own, hoping it’s enough.

Wrangler jeans, a somewhat nice button up teal shirt, and my cleanest boots.

I kept my hat on to try and mask my unruly set of curls.

Knowing Santiago, he’s probably going to come out looking like a damn movie star, but nobody can say I didn’t put in some effort.

Now all I have to do is knock.

You can do this .

I nod to myself. I definitely can. Just have to lift my hand, form a fist, and knock.

Well, do it already .

My breath is caught in my throat and I’m frozen midway to knocking because it just hits me how ridiculous all of this is.

Just two weeks ago I was living my normal quiet life and now I’m about to ask my mightier-than-thou stepbrother if I can come with him to some rich elitist party in hopes of making my mama happy.

I should just crawl back to my room and call it a night. Mama and Emiliano are off on some romantic dinner and I have the chance to stay in and relax. I can take a nice long bubble bath—never have before—and put on some country music.

Just as I’m deciding that I want to abort the mission, the door swings open, revealing Santiago on the other side. He looks shocked to see me but covers it up quickly, masking his face in indifference.

And, of course, fucking movie star .

Well, maybe if he was playing James Dean.

He has on a pair of expensive black jeans, a tight white T-shirt which probably costs more than my entire closet, and a well-fitting leather jacket.

“What are you wearin’?” I blurt out before my mind can catch up with my mouth.

He cocks his head and his gaze sweeps down my figure, heating every part of me. “You’re asking what I’m wearing?”

“Right,” I chuckle awkwardly, scratching the back of my neck as I teeter on my heels. “I mean, you look great. Good. You look fine.”

“What do you want, Reign?” he asks, leaning against his door frame as he crosses his arms. “I’m about to head out.”

“That’s the thing… I was wonderin’ if I could come with you?” I wait for him to say something but he’s silent. So uncomfortably silent. Not being able to handle that, I fill in the space. “You know, Kingston invited me?—”

“Kingston was fucking with you.”

Ouch . Well, I knew that already, but it hurts to hear. “Yeah, I know. But doesn’t mean I shouldn’t show? It could be fun and maybe we could get to know each other better?”

He takes a step and I realize that, even though we’re the same height, it feels like he towers over me.

How can he manage to look down at me when we’re face-to-face?

He infiltrates my personal space, getting far too close for comfort, and the smell of him nearly knocks me on my ass.

It’s crisp and clean, heady even, and my body sways closer without my permission.

“You want to get to know me, Reign?” he asks in a deep whisper, tipping his head as his eyes scan my face. “Why?”

I chuckle awkwardly. “Because we’re stepbrothers?”

“Is that a question or a statement?”

“S-Statement,” I stutter, licking my seemingly dry lips. “You know, brothers bond?”

“Again, is that a question or a statement?”

“Mama would like it,” I rush out, my breath hitching when his fingers come up to play with my shirt. “W-What are you d-doing?”

“Cheap fabric,” he mumbles to himself before his dark eyes meet mine. “You’re missing a button.”

I nod dumbly, entirely overwhelmed by him and his presence. I take a step back so I can breathe and his hand falls. “So, the party?”

He thinks it over for a second, his jaw set tight before he nods. “Fine. I’m not babysitting you, though. I’m trying to fuck tonight so stay out of my way.”

My eyes widen at his crass words and outright declaration of trying to get laid. Call me a blushing virgin—mostly because I am one—but it shocks me. “Oh, right. Laid . Totally. You wanna fuck.”

Trying to sound cool obviously had the opposite effect because he scoffs as he passes me. “Keep up.”

Like I’ve already grown accustomed to, I trail behind him as we make our way to the garage. I almost ask him if we can take the Porsche this time, but when he leads me to a separate section, I realize what else he has in mind. “Woah. Is that a?—”

“It’s a Ducati,” he finishes, snatching two helmets off the hooks on the wall and shoving one into my hands. “I’m going to assume you’ve never ridden a motorcycle before?”

I shake my head. “You’d be right.”

“I’m going to get on first then you’ll hop on behind me and hold on,” he explains as he mounts his bike. When I don’t move, he rolls his eyes. “Well, come on. I don’t have all night.”

I rush to comply and nearly trip over my feet.

I’m excited but nervous all the same. Motorcycles are cool in theory, but they’re death traps.

Add to that, I’m going to have to touch him.

I don’t like that at all. The idea makes my skin crawl because making contact with another human being is daunting, especially with someone like Santiago.

But I can’t say that because it’s ridiculous.

I know it would just annoy him and maybe make him change his mind about taking me.

So, I hop on behind him. I don’t really want to settle my hands on his back, but I do, and he flinches.

“S-Sorry,” I stutter out. “I?—”

“Around me,” he hisses, reaching back to wind my arms around his waist. “You’ll fucking fall over the other way.”

My face pales at the image. “Right.”

“Keep your feet on the pegs. When I lean, you lean. Don’t move too far away from me and you’ll be good. Got that?” he asks.

I nod rapidly. “Pegs, lean, feel you up. G-Got it.”

He doesn’t find my joke amusing and snarls, “Take your hat off and put your helmet on.”

I uncurl my arms from around him and do as he says, shoving my hat between my legs just as he puts his helmet on. He starts up the bike and the roar is so loud it makes me jolt and nearly has me tumbling off. He revs the engine a few times before knocking away the kickstand and moving forward.

He has absolutely no mercy.

Nope. This isn’t an intro course called How To Ride 101 , this is a crash course in Hold On For Your Fucking Life .

If this is how the night’s beginning, I have a sick feeling that it’s only going to get crazier from here.