Page 20 of Sweet Strings


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“She’s something else. She’s special,” she says, side-eyeing me with glossy eyes. “Just don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep. She’s four. She won’t understand when you walk away.”

“Whoa. Wait. Walk away? That’s awfully presumptuous of you,” I say, curling my hands into fists at her accusations.

She shrugs, wiping her face, and turns to leave the room. But I’m hot on her trail, shoving her gently against the wall. Her jaw tightens when I cage her in, trapping her body against mine. Fuck. The warmth of her breath feathers across my cheeks, and her heaving chest bumps into mine. Do not pop a chubby. And do not—Shit, I looked at her tits in her tiny sleep shirt. I shouldn’t have done that. I shake my head and tame the wild little Rad and reel myself in before I end up poking her in the stomach. Yeah, she’d chop little Rad off before she ever let that happen again. I happen to like my damn disco stick intact, thank you very much.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” I ask, scrunching up my nose, refusing to acknowledge the burn tingling the tip. “Pretty Girl, we would have come back no matter what. I just…”

Every muscle in River’s body freezes. Squeezing her eyes shut, she blows out several controlled breaths until two small tears fall from her eyes, cascading down her reddened cheeks. Her fingers curl into fists, and her entire face scrunches angrily.

“You don’t still have a knife buried in your pajama pants, do you?” I quip, watching her hands like a hawk, so she doesn’t hold my balls hostage with her little knife. The River from before would most definitely kick my ass and stab me sideways with no regret.

She lets out a cruel laugh and shakes her head. “If I had my knife, you’d know,” she says, taking another ragged breath.

Well, thank fuck for that. I don’t need any more holes than I have in my body.

“It was two weeks after my mom died,” she confesses with stirring emotions, choking me up as much as her. With tear-filled eyes, she glares directly at me with a hardening stare. “Two fucking weeks, Rad. Two weeks of silence. Two weeks of being thrown away like I was trash. If you had known, you’d have come back? Yeah right. You know what I did? I ran to Cal’s to tell you all that I had found out. I just wanted to talk to you and resolve whatever happened. But you were gone, and Gloria called you. And you fucking rejected my child. You said it was probably Van’s. And then…”

“Back up,” I say, holding up a finger and jumping headfirst into the past when we left Central City. Every word River spits in my face, my heart breaks a little bit more. “You said Gloria called us? When? She never called us or told us anything. As far as I know…” My brows furrow, thinking back to the time we left and the time we got here and won our music contract. She didn’t bother to call Kieran until after, and it was only to let him know about his stepdad. And that was a doozy of a call. Besides, he would have mentioned it to us, right? Fuck.

“She did it right in front of me. She said…” River closes her eyes, reliving the moment over again as if it’s dragging her under and drowning her. Pure emotions reach out from her soul when she opens her eyes, and the tears fall, squeezing my damn heart. No matter what happened between us, this moment broke her for eternity. “You guys didn’t want Lyric. And then she handed me four restraining orders, Ashton. So, what am I supposed to believe? Huh?”

I cringe at the sound of my first name, reeling back. Ashton. She only calls me Ashton when she’s upset with me or fucking me. But this time around, she’s pissed as hell. I’d rather get back to Rad.

Wait a minute… My lips pop open. “Restraining orders?” I question, furrowing my brows. My damn churning stomach drops. “What the hell is happening?” I groan, rubbing my fingers over my forehead as my headache continues to rattle around in my brain, putting pressure behind my damn eyes. Maybe I have a concussion after all. Is this shit even happening right now? Or am I hallucinating? Shit. I know I’m not. She’s breathing heavily against me, crying out in frustration I don’t understand. But I want to. Something about what she says doesn’t sit right with me. There are things not adding up. I’ll get to the bottom of it.

Just as I’m about to grill my Pretty Girl like a damn delicious steak and hash this out, the loud rumbling of a familiar motorcycle echoes from outside, rattling the windows. My heart drops.

“Fucking Cal,” I hiss, hanging my head at his totally discreet retreat. If he wanted to get out of here unnoticed, then he failed...miserably. So, fucking miserably I’m now missing the opportunity to have an important discussion.

“What the hell was that?” River asks, stiffening where she stands. Her eyes whip to mine and harden when I give her my best innocent smile, which isn’t very innocent looking. “Rad,” she barks with authority, pushing me back without a fight, and heads toward the window, peering through the blinds. “Is that Cal? Where is he going?” she asks as his lone headlight lights up her house and takes off down the mile-long road, where he’ll use his code to leave the premises. If he was trying to be sneaky about leaving, he fucking failed spectacularly. “Ashton,” she holds out my name like a damn song, and I lose all control of myself.

Blowing out a breath, I sigh. “He’s gone to fight.”

Her eyes widen, blinking several times. “I’m sorry. You said fight?” she asks skeptically. “Like...” She holds up her fists in a mock fight until I nod. “Why?”

“Why do you think?” I asked as softly as I can. “You broke us. When he saw…” I shake my head. “It’s not my place to tell his story.”

She snorts a humorless laugh. “Right. When I kissed Van and he saw? Maybe he should have been there ten minutes earlier when that fuck nugget pushed his way into my house. Didn’t you idiots ever think, I don’t know, to try and communicate with me about it? That asshole forced himself on me in my kitchen. Forced. Himself.” She punctuates every word with venom, punching the organ in my chest and pounding wildly.

I swallow hard, memories of her history prickling my mind. That stupid, wild party and the unpleasant night River and I shared. The moment I picked her broken body off the hard ground and put her in my car after her assault, and carried her into the hospital, always stayed with me. She was so small, so fucking broken then.

“What?” I ask, scrunching my brows. “He forced you? He…” He fucking took what he wanted, and she didn’t have a say in it.

“We’ll talk about this later,” she says, pulling out her phone and calling someone.

“Later?” I ask, stiffening. I want to continue this conversation, but fuck, if she thinks… “No. Fuck Cal. I want to talk about this right now, Pretty Girl,” I plead, cradling her jaw in my palm, trying to learn more about that night and about the entire situation.

“Yeah, later. You’re taking me to wherever Callum has run off to if you want to keep your contract.” She raises her brow and steps away from me, while bringing her phone to her ear and sighing. “I never thought I’d ever say this, but I need your help. Can you come over? Mhmm,” she mumbles and hangs up. “Let me put some clothes on, and then we’ll leave.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Not only did I find out a whole stack of shit I had no clue about, but now I was about to take River into a fighting den full of angry assholes looking for a fight or pussy. Shit. I may not know all the information about what happened that night, and I’m getting the sneaking suspicion that someone is lying. And that someone is not her. But who?

A soft knock lands on the front door as River races down the hall, shoving her foot into a pair of worn sneakers. My eyes light up at the tight band shirt clinging to her chest and hugging her curvy sides. Tight jeans cling to her legs and fuck. If I could shape-shift into fabric, I’d be the denim between her thick thighs. Shit. Discreetly, I fix my dick who has a mind of his own. Asshole. That’s three times now he’s tried to show himself. But I guess when he smells the sweet pussy of his girl, he gets a little too excited.

“Hey, thanks for coming over,” she says in a soft voice, ushering someone in.

“Ash,” I say, stiffening when he meets my eyes.

“Your bike’s in the middle of the road,” he says, disregarding my greeting and avoiding my eyes. Bastard! He knew! He fucking knew! That’s why he said that shit to Kieran. Mother fucker.

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