Back To The Start Box Set: Five Full-Length Novels by Aly Martinez
“Well, we actually have a lot of shit to talk about. Predominantly about me being a dick…again. And then again about me not being a dick, and you melting for me the way you seem to do when you aren’t talking a million miles an hour. But, for now, until we can get some time alone later tonight, we need to discuss shit about Valerie.”
Her hand flew to her necklace. “Tonight?”
“Did I forget to mention that, when I get back, we’re gonna talk?”
“Alone? Us?”
I trailed my fingers down the side of her neck and lowered my voice. “I’m hoping that talk is gonna end with your mouth on mine. So, yeah, Rhion. Alone is probably best.”
She gaped at me, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“But, first, I have to go to work, listen to four hours of mind-numbing political speeches, and then ensure a senator’s family makes it to the airport on time. So, right now, we need to talk about Valerie so I can get on the road, do my job, then come back and talk to you.”
She gave me a slow blink and then randomly asked, “Republican or Democrat?”
I twisted my lips. “Does it matter?”
“Not really. I’m just wondering what kind of politics you find mind-numbing.”
I leaned in close and whispered, “All of ’em.”
“Right.” She bit her lip.
“So, back to Val… She doesn’t know the city, and I’d feel better if you both stayed here and watched a movie or whatever.”
She nodded. “Yeah. Of course.”
“Also, I hate to ask you to do this, but as soon as I leave, I’m gonna be on the phone with her mom. And it’s not going to be a good conversation. I’d appreciate it if you could maybe keep her distracted for a few hours. I’m not sure how this talk is gonna go down, but I don’t put it past April to call and unload her bullshit on Val.”
Her head snapped back. “Oh God. Seriously?”
“Yeah. Their relationship is…” I glanced up at Val again.
This time, she really wasn’t paying attention; rather, she was investigating the photos lining the walls of Rhion’s living room.
“Strained,” I finished.
“Well, that sucks. But yeah. Don’t worry. I’ll keep her busy.”
My lips tipped up as I stared down at her. “Thanks.”
“It’s no problem.”
“Be good, Val,” I called out and shot Rhion a wink that made her cheeks pink.
I needed to go. It was getting late, but I was in no rush to leave her.
I was, however, in a rush to get gone…so I could get back.
Chapter Sixteen
Rhion
Val and I were stretched out on either end of my couch. It was nearly seven. Jude would be back soon, but after the day we’d had, I was exhausted and didn’t have the energy to clean up. Plates and cups littered the coffee table while shopping bags covered the floor. Makeup of every shade and color lined the top of my counter, and the cords to professional-grade curling irons dangled over the side.
“Is Jude a neat freak?” I asked Val.
She laughed. “Neat? No. But he’s a weirdo about the refrigerator. It used to drive him crazy when Mom would leave leftovers in there for too long.”
I must have asked Val a million questions about Jude throughout the day. So much so that, eventually, I didn’t even have to ask anymore. She was offering it up. It was obvious Val loved her stepfather; her face would light any time she talked about him. It only served as further truth that my Jude was real. An idea that warmed me immeasurably.
“Can I ask you something?” Val said, swinging her legs around so she was sitting up.
I lifted my head off the padded armrest. “Of course.”
“How’d you really get the scars?”
Uh oh. Jude had given me the macho headshake when she’d asked about them earlier. I had only a few minutes before he got back. No way was I pissing him off before our talk.
I smiled warmly. “Maybe you should talk to Jude when he gets here.”
“They’re burns, aren’t they?”
My shoulders got tight. Damn it, she was smart. This was not going to work in my favor.
Sitting up, I took her hand. “Seriously, he’ll be here any minute.”
“You’re Butterfly,” she whispered. “Aren’t you?”
I sucked in a sharp breath and my stomach knotted.
“You are,” she breathed, scooting over.
“Um…it depends. If I was, would that be a good thing or bad thing?” I asked nervously.
She smiled. “I think, for Jude, it’s a really good thing. Maybe he’ll finally be able to sleep.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, but a knock on the door pulled us both out of the conversation.
Val laughed knowingly as I sprang to my feet and smoothed my little black dress down. Like the rest of my outfit, it was new. In my defense, I couldn’t just talk to Jude in jeans and a T-shirt. If I wanted more of him, it was time to up the ante. And let’s be honest—a backless little black dress with a high neckline, cap sleeves, and a pleated skirt definitely couldn’t hurt.
“Don’t forget your shoes,” Val reminded me.
“Right.” I nodded swiftly, sliding on the kickass red-and-black-swirled heels we’d bought earlier that afternoon.
It should be noted that Val had amazing taste. She’d originally picked the shoes out for herself, but I didn’t figure it would win me any babysitting awards with Jude if he showed back up and his eleven-year-old was wearing a pair of stilettos. Thankfully, it didn’t take much convincing to get Val to settle for a pair of red Chuck Taylors.
Yeah, I wasn’t the only one who had gotten new threads.
After I’d listened to Val tell me all about her mom, it was clear we could both stand a little retail therapy. Between the two of us, we’d picked the racks bare. Val’s outfit consisted of a pair of tattered, black skinny jeans that hugged her curves, a black long-sleeve, fitted top, and a red down vest. It was sporty and feminine, and she looked so freaking adorable that I wanted to shrink her down and put her in my pocket. Instead, we’d had our hair and makeup done and then taken a million selfies.
I did a twirl. “Do I look okay?”
She smiled, lifted her hand to the perfectly shaped curls brushing the top of her shoulder, and ordered, “Scrunch your hair. It will give you more volume.”
I nodded and followed her example. It wasn’t often I wore my naturally straight hair in curls, but after seeing how amazing Val’s had looked when the stylist had finished, I’d decided to give it a try. It was no contest—hers were better. But I couldn’t complain about my end results. The red tips on my chunky ringlets made for the perfect accent against the black of my dress.
She grinned. “You look great. Jude is going to die.”
“I don’t want him to die. A little heart trouble, maybe. But I definitely need him alive.”
She giggled as another knock at the door got my feet moving. With one last glance over my shoulder at her beaming smile, I sucked in a deep breath and yanked it open.
But it wasn’t Jude.
“Don’t just stand there, child. Invite me in. It’s freezing out here,” Margaret Spencer, my ex-stepmother, snapped haughtily.
She was not standing on my doorstep.
No fucking way.
Only she was. In the taut, surgically enhanced flesh. On my doorstep.
She knew I wouldn’t be inviting her in, which was why, as I attempted to slam the door in her face, she slid her elegant, slipper-clad foot over the threshold. “Damn it, Rhion. Stop being a brat,” she cursed, attempting to cram her upper body through the narrow opening.
“Rhion?” Val called, concern thick in her voice.
Struggling with the door, I did my best to keep my voice even as I said, “It’s okay, sweetie. Why don’t you go watch TV in the ocean room for a few minutes?”
“W-what’s going on?” she stammered.
I glanced over my shoulder and found
It probably wasn’t the best way to teach a child to respect their elders, but I suspected that Margaret wasn’t there to show anyone respect, either. Especially since I’d managed to keep my whereabouts from the Wicked Witch private for over two years. And, while Katie knew where I lived, she’d never rat me out.
With a hard shove that did not bode well for the staff at whichever nursing home I’d more than likely end up paying for, Margaret managed to knock me back.
I stumbled and my heel slipped, which sent me down to my ass.
“Rhion!” Val yelled, dashing toward me.
“It’s okay. I’m okay,” I assured, taking her hand and allowing her to help me back to my feet.
She looked panicked, so I threw an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against my front.
Margaret swung the door open wide and walked in, answering the age-old debate about whether vampires needed to be invited inside a personal residence.
“For the love of God, child, why must you always be so dramatic?” she scolded, shrugging off her long herringbone coat, revealing a charcoal-gray sheath dress that I hated to admit looked nice on her.
She was older and wafer-thin, but Margaret had always been beautiful. It was how she’d caught the eye of my father. Though how she’d convinced him to marry her would forever be a mystery. Even with her high cheekbones and her incredible hair, the woman was a hideous monster on the inside.
Her gaze raked over me, and her lip curled in disgust. “Why must you ruin your body with those dreadful tattoos? A nice sweater would go a long way in covering those scars without making you look like a streetwalker.”
Who actually said streetwalker? I made a note to anonymously mail her a thesaurus.
I rolled my eyes. “Why are you here?”
Her gaze slid to Val. “Care to introduce me to your friend?”
Nope. No fucking way.
I’d learned over the course of the day that Val’s relationship with her mother wasn’t just strained—it was one straw away from breaking. From what she’d said, it sounded like April was a bitch to the nth degree. However, I was certain she didn’t hold a candle to Margaret Spencer. And, if that woman said one nasty word to Val, I’d end up in jail.
I guided Val behind me. “Answer me. Why are you here?”
She shrugged and bent at the knees to pick up one of the shopping bags. As she thoroughly inspected the contents, she replied, “I was in the area.”
I snatched the bag from her hand. “You live in New York.”
She scoffed as she glided across the room to pick up another bag. “What? Am I not allowed to visit my stepdaughter?”
“Former stepdaughter,” I corrected while ushering Val to the couch. Lowering my voice, I tried to ease Val with a joke. “Don’t look her directly in the eye or you might turn to stone.”
A small smile pulled at her lips, and relief filtered through me.
“Where’s Katie?” I asked Margaret while walking to the door to search the breezeway.
“How am I supposed to know?”
I turned to face her, the cold air nipping at my back, but I refused to close it for fear she’d take it as an invitation to stay.
“Um…” I started sarcastically. “Because, while I do believe you hold mythical powers of evil, you need a keycard to even get up the elevator. One that I know Katie has. So I’ll ask again: Where is she?”
She dropped the shopping bag to the ground before moving to the next one. “Oh, please, Rhion. Unlike some people I know, Katie has a social life. She’s out doing whatever a young lady of her social standing does on a Saturday night while visiting a new city.”
Knowing Katie, she’d put a gorgeous gown on to make her mother happy and then changed into a skimpy skirt and top in the bathroom of whatever nightclub she’d be partying at that night. Some things never changed.
“Right,” I laughed. “Well, thanks for stopping by, but I’m going to need my key back, and then I’m going to need you to get on your broom and fly away.” I sliced a hand through the air toward the door.
A sinister smile grew on her lips as she crossed her wiry arms over her chest. Tipping her chin toward the shopping bags, she said, “I thought you didn’t have the money anymore.”
“I don’t,” I replied unnecessarily. “I finished a new book,” I added even more unnecessarily.
It was none of her business what my bank account read or how I got the money. The only thing she needed to know was that I no longer controlled my father’s fortune. A fact Pete and I had made abundantly clear over the last few years.
“Rhion, honey,” she purred in a condescending tone. “You expect me to believe your silly little hobby paid for those Louis Vuittons?” She took a step toward me, her gaze pointedly flashing down to my heels.
I squared my shoulders and retorted, “I don’t expect you to believe anything, but I do expect you to get the hell out of my apartment.”
Her grin grew pompous. “You still have the money.” It wasn’t a question. Or an accusation. It was breathed in utter elation.
I swear I saw the green of dollar signs flash in her honey-brown eyes.
“I don’t have the money,” I replied immediately, anxiety spiking within me.
“Your father would be rolling in his grave if he knew you were holding out on me and Katie. You manipulative little shit.”
“I’m manipulative?” I asked in disbelief. “You just showed up at my house, sniffing for dollar bills.”
“I wouldn’t have to if you’d give me what’s rightfully mine.”
“Rightfully yours? Are you insane? If Dad had wanted you and Katie to have that money, he would have put it in his will. Newsflash, Margaret. He didn’t. My name was the only one on that piece of paper, and I’m telling you I don’t have it anymore.”
“And what about Apollo?” she asked in a menacing whisper.
My mouth dried as panic flushed my body from head to toe. It only took the mention of his name to skyrocket my pulse.
On shaky legs, I stumbled back a step.
She advanced toward me, her shoulders rolled back in confidence. “Oh yes, dear. Apollo. You can’t possibly believe that you’re the only one who deserved anything.”
I frantically shook my head from side to side. Words were impossible around the lump lodged in my throat.
“I wonder what your brother will say when I tell him that you’ve recently come into some money again.”
All at once, it felt like toxic chemicals had replaced the oxygen in the room.
My skin crawled, and the hairs on the back of my neck prickled.
She was going to tell Apollo that I had the money.
“No,” I choked.
“You didn’t think I’d come all the way to Chicago without seeing my stepson, did you? We’re meeting for dinner as soon as I leave here.”
The blood drained from my face and my head began to spin.
“No,” I repeated, throwing my arm out to the wall beside the door to balance myself—and trigger the alarm.
She closed the distance between us. “Orrr,” she drawled, lifting a finger to toy with my mother’s diamond at the base of my neck. “For the right price, it could be our little secret.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, the metallic taste of blood bursting on my tongue.
He’ll be here in less than a minute.
Johnson would fix this. He always had.
Just. One. Minute.
“Is this new?” she asked, giving my necklace a sharp tug, snapping it off my neck.
The diamond from my mother’s engagement ring had been my prized possession since I was six years old and my father had set it into a necklace for me. I never took it off, not even to shower. Margaret knew that that necklace wasn’t new. She was only trying to hurt me.
But all she’d had to do was mention his name to destroy me.
She
My nose stung as I fought the tears back.
He’d come for it. Again.
Break me. Again.
Light me on fire. Again.
My legs had begun to shake when I heard Valerie exclaim, “Jude!”
“Jude?” Margaret snapped.
“Jude,” I breathed.
He’d come to save me. Again.
Chapter Seventeen
Jude
As I made it off the elevator, I saw her silhouette in the doorway. I smiled to myself as I slid my gaze over her sexy heels and up her sensational legs. She had to be fucking freezing, but if she was willing to suffer the chill, I was more than happy to appreciate the view.
A short, black dress covered her ass, but as I continued my path up, the fabric opened, revealing the smooth, ink-free skin on her back. My mouth watered as I followed the delicate line of her spine higher. Visions of my tongue trailing down her soft skin, from ass to shoulder blade, flashed in my mind. They weren’t memories, but if I had my way about it, they would be soon enough.
“Jude!” Val yelled as I got closer.
A smile split my mouth. “Hey—” I started only to stop when Rhion spun to face me, her face etched with fear as she dove into my arms.
“What the fuck?” I grunted, wrapping her up.
I instinctively swept the room. An older, well-dressed woman was standing in front of her, her mouth wide open, her gaze jumping between us.
Val was standing next to the couch, visible relief painting her face.
“What the hell is going on?” I barked as I became vaguely aware of footsteps pounding behind me. I turned in time to see Alex storming out of the emergency exit.
My confusion grew, but I stepped to the side with Rhion in my arms to make way for him to get through the door.
“You!” Alex growled, wrapping a rough hand around the older woman’s bicep.
She let out an offended curse and stared at me.
I narrowed my eyes and snarled, “I’ll repeat: What the hell is going on?”
A shrieked, “Jude? Are you kidding me?” from the woman I did not know was all I got in response.
Rhion jerked in my arms as a strangled “No!” hit my chest.