Page 3 of Craved By Gray
We’d trade secret lustful looks the way Brooke and her boyfriend often do. Sneak away from the party for a little rendezvous. My father wouldn’t have to know, and I could be with Gray, share my firsts with him. Have control over who gets to have me at least.
But that is just a pipe dream. Imagination that belongs to a normal twenty-year-old college student, which is something I will never be.
“It’s getting late,” I whisper, my eyes shifting to the darkening skies. I try to keep my voice neutral, but I imagine some cracks show as Brooke’s brow furrows.
“Don’t tell me that you’re leaving. You are not staying for the games?” She grabs my hand and squeezes it. “That’s the best part of the night. We play against the guys, and they always win. You’re smart. Like, really smart. I bet we’ll win this time if you join us.”
I should say no. I have overstayed my visit. God, I wasn’t even supposed to be here. At this cookout. On this side of town. With these people. But then I look at my friend’s gray eyes, and I feel myself waver.
My father will kill me!
“Okay, but I can’t stay long.”
But I do. For four more hours, long after the sun has set, I find myself playing games with people I barely know, trying and failing to ignore the heavy presence of the man my eyes keep flitting to. Of course, we lose every game to the guys. Contrary to Brooke’s expectations, I am no help, not when I can’t seem to gather my wits around the man whose eyes I feel on me constantly.
But I ignore it. At least I try.
Gray is still on my mind when I finally excuse myself, waving at Brooke who’s nestled with Axel on a seat meant for one. She flushes when she catches my eye, waving back, and with a shake of my head, I finally make my exit. In place of Gray, thoughts of my father take root, and I fight back the panic that follows the entire elevator ride down to the underground parking.
I let myself get carried away tonight. I wasn’t supposed to be out this long.
My hands are trembling when I climb into my car, a gift I got from my father a few months ago after I helped him with somecreativeaccounting. Helped the man hide money, and this was his gift to me. I can only hope it wasn’t stolen.
I wince when I notice that it’s nearly ten, flying out of the parking lot in a rush. The traffic is typical of a Sunday night in Chicago, and by the time I’m pulling into my building’s parking, it’s ten-thirty.
I fight the tremble in my hands as I walk into the expansive lobby, barely paying notice to anything or anyone as I beeline to the bank of elevators, rushing in when one opens for me. My apartment was another gift from my father, but it often feels more like a gilded cage.
Deep breaths, Scarlett. Slow and deep!
The doors open on my floor, and I hurry out, my heels clicking on the marble floor as I rush to my apartment. I take out my key card and press it against the scanner, holding my breath when the door unlocks and I push it open.
The lights are on. My heart drops to my feet.
“Where the fuck have you been?”
I slowly walk inside, a tremble racking through me when my eyes lock with my father’s. I inherited every part of my looks from the man—his hair, his eyes, his coloring. Nothing from the woman who birthed me. A woman I’ve never once met.
“Dad, I…I just…um, went out with friends.”
My father’s steely eyes narrow on mine for long seconds, and I wait for him to press the matter, but he doesn’t. “Nextweekend, I want you at the club,” he says, getting up from the couch he’d been sitting on. “We have work to do.”
By work, he means more help hiding the club’s dirty money. Every time I do this for him, it chips at my soul, and I hate that I’m slowly becoming like him and the band of criminals he keeps around. “I don’t want to do it anymore,” I blurt out.
My father whips around, and before I know it, he’s standing in front of me and his hand is on my jaw, gripping tight. “What did you just say?” he growls, and I push down a whimper when he digs his fingers into my cheeks. “You don’t want to work?”
“It’s…illegal.”
“Listen to me, girl,” he spits, venom in his voice. “The only reason I didn’t sell you off to some rich old man the second you turned eighteen is because you are of some use to me. The moment you stop being useful is the moment I’ll auction you off to someone who’ll know how to deal with you. Until then, you earn your keep!”
I hold back tears, meeting his hard stare head on, and it’s not until he lets go and stomps out of my apartment, slamming the door behind him, that I allow myself to collapse on the floor. I wrap my arms around my middle, choking on the tears I refuse to shed.
I hate this city. I loathe everything about this damned city and my cursed life here!
In the comfort of my home, I find myself blaming the city all over again, cursing it for housing such monsters.
And for trapping me with them.
Chapter Two
