The Bonds We Break (The Four #5) Read online

  Vivid images played through my mind. How had I let myself fall into this situation to begin with? I’d been in my flat, watching TV on my bed, when I’d received a text from Caiden Cavendish saying he needed to speak with me in person, asking me to come outside to give him a minute of my time. It was stupid of me to hope for anything—it was clear that he was in love with Winter Huntington, and nothing and no one was going to come between them. But still, I went. Sheltering from the rain in the porch of the front door of the apartment building in my pyjama shorts set with a thin cardigan on top, I watched as a car pulled up, blinding me with its headlights.

  I hadn’t even had a chance to get away.

  The man glanced over at me again, and then after flicking his gaze back to the road, he appeared to take a closer look, his oily gaze sliding over me, thick and slimy, sending pinpricks of disgust through my body. I’d had plenty of men look at me that way before, and I’d welcomed the attention, craved it even, but here, now, this was wrong.

  So wrong.

  His hand settled on my bare thigh. I jolted, and his fingers squeezed tighter. I sucked in a sharp breath as my gaze dragged down to his pale, thick fingers, heavy with rings, the tip of one finger missing.

  I shuddered in revulsion as his blunt nails dug into my skin, flinging my head round almost on instinct and spitting in his face.

  The car jerked, wheels spinning on the rain-slicked road. “Suka!” His incensed growl of rage gave me temporary satisfaction before his hand swung out, snapping my head back around with the force of the blow. Collapsing back into the car door again, I closed my eyes, holding myself still, breathing through the throbbing pain down the side of my face. At least his hand was gone now.

  Without any warning, the car pulled to a sudden stop. The next thing I knew, my door was yanked open, and I would’ve fallen out of the side if there hadn’t been a body already there, dragging me out. Kicking out, I screamed and shouted against my captor as the sound of another car stopping behind us filled me with wild hope.

  A hope that was extinguished the next second as a rough hand clamped over my mouth. Desperately blinking my eyes against the driving rain, I watched as two figures spoke in harsh, guttural tones before the man who had taken me got right up in my face and spat. “Suka,” he snarled, and I lashed out again, landing a kick to his shin that probably hurt my bare toes more than him.

  The man now holding me laughed, removing his hand from my mouth, and I sucked in a deep breath before screaming at the top of my lungs. My scream was abruptly cut off when a heavy, rough fabric came down over my mouth, gagging me and preventing me from speaking. It was only then that I realised that my whole body was shivering, my clothing soaked through from the downpour.

  More words were exchanged as I slumped back against the man holding me, my body suddenly weak and helpless. Then there were words spoken in my ear, this time in heavily accented English.

  “Pretty little whore.” His hand gripped my breast roughly, and a scream tore from my throat, silenced by the gag. “I understand why he is wanting you. We will play with you later. If you stay alive.”

  Without another word, he scooped me up, and then I was being carried across to another car. There was a click, and I was dropped onto a hard surface, covered in a scratchy carpet material.

  “Head down,” the voice above instructed me.

  The lid of the car boot was slammed shut, and I was surrounded by the stale scent of something distinctly metallic, combining with the petrol smell coming from the ropes that dug into my skin.

  Trapped in the darkness, bound and gagged, useless tears fell, hot on my freezing skin.

  “Be a good girl and scream for your boyfriend.” The man holding me tore the gag from my mouth. Gasping, I sucked in a deep, fortifying breath. The rain combined with…sea air. We must be somewhere on the coast. I was disoriented, my head throbbing from the knocks I’d taken, but I wasn’t about to go down without a fight. My arms were still bound, but I kicked out, throwing my head back at the same time. I connected with something hard, but there was no satisfying crack. All it served to do was for the man to grip me around the throat, snarling rage-filled words that I couldn’t understand.

  Everything became a blur as I struggled, white spots dancing in my vision as my lungs desperately worked to get air through the constricting hold on my throat. All I could hear was my pulse pounding in my ears, and I wasn’t even aware of what was going on around me, my entire focus on escaping the man that held me down.

  Then, suddenly, his weight was gone, and I was free. I crumpled to the ground, but reacting purely on instinct, I twisted my body to face the man. He was grappling with two men… I wiped my eyes. Was that Weston Cavendish? And Cassius Drummond? What were they doing here?

  A glint of silver caught my eye, and I grabbed the screwdriver-type object from the ground. No one noticed me thrusting it up while Cassius held the man in a headlock and Weston punched him in the jaw. It pierced through denim and into flesh so easily, I dropped it in horror. A howl of rage came from the man, and he tore away from Cassius and Weston.

  I shot upright with a gasp, my eyes flying open. My heart pounding, I blinked furiously until the room came into focus, before slumping back against the headboard.

  I was in my bedroom. In my flat.

  My eyes slowly scanned the room, taking in the features. It helped a little. Helped me to focus, to remember that while my flashback nightmares had really happened, it was over. Completely over. I started at the small Himalayan salt lamp next to my bed that I kept switched on because waking up from a nightmare only to find myself in the dark was something I didn’t want to consider yet. Next, I scanned over my windows, covered with soft white curtains that dusted the floor. Then, across to the door that led to my walk-in wardrobe, over my dresser, past the door that led to my bathroom, and down to the soft, luxurious silvery carpet that covered the floor. Smoothing my hands over my white bedcovers, I breathed in and out deeply, until my heart rate slowed.

  I allowed myself to remember what had happened after the point I’d been pulled from my nightmare, to remind myself that it was really all over.

  Collapsing back onto the damp ground and closing my eyes, I let out a breath. Then another. Then another. A hand was placed on my back, and I flinched but settled when it remained there, a warm, steady pressure I could focus on.

  “Jessa?”

  His voice, normally so full of laughter and charm, was cracked and unsure. I tried to speak, but all I could manage was a whimpering sound.

  “Jessa,” he said again, and this time, his arms carefully came around me. Scooping me up, he lifted me to my feet. I clung to him tightly, knowing that my legs would give way if I didn’t have him to hold me up. “Fuck, you’re freezing,” he mumbled. He tried to move back, and I staggered. A huff escaped him, and then his arms tightened around me.

  “Can you hold on for five seconds?” Carefully placing me down to lean against a metal surface, he directed my palms either side of me so I could brace myself against the side of the car. There was a rustling sound, and then I was surrounded by warmth as Cassius eased his hoodie over my head, draping it over my body.

  “I’m taking her home,” I heard Cassius say to someone, and then he was carrying me, not stopping until we reached his matte black SUV. He let go of me to open the door, and a panicked cry fell from my lips, completely involuntary.

  “Jessa. I’m not going anywhere, okay? You’re safe now. Safe with me.”

  His words were reassuring, and I managed a tiny nod before he helped me into the car and buckled up my seat belt.

  I kept my hand resting lightly on the edge of his leg the whole journey back to my flat, needing to know he was still there. He seemed to understand, because he didn’t comment. If I’d been in my right mind, none of this would have happened, yet now that I was away from danger, the fear that I’d been suppressing was drowning me in heavy, rolling waves, and only the feel of the warmth of his body under my hand
was keeping the panic at bay.

  When we reached my apartment building, he helped me inside, directing me to my sofa. After sitting me down, he pulled his phone from his pocket. It had been buzzing almost constantly while he’d been driving.

  “Fuck. Cade—he’s. Fuck. In hospital.”

  “You should go,” I croaked out, closing my eyes so he couldn’t see my terror at being left alone. It was clear I wasn’t successful in masking it when he dropped to his knees in front of me.

  “You really—”

  I cut off whatever he was about to say. “It’s fine, go. Caiden needs you. Weston needs your support.”

  The dilemma in his gaze was clear, but I knew that his loyalty was to his best friends, their bond stronger than anything I’d ever known. As it should be.

  “Can… Do you want me to phone anyone to come over? Portia, maybe?”

  I almost laughed at that. As if Portia would do anything that didn’t benefit her in some way. “I’ll be fine. Thank you.” Injecting as much firmness as I could into my voice, I forced myself to meet his eyes.

  There was no way he was convinced, but he sighed. “You’ve got my number. Text me anytime, okay?”

  When I nodded, he rose to his feet with another sigh. He paused for a minute, then leaned down and kissed the top of my head. It was weirdly intimate, and I didn’t know why. Maybe because my guard was down.

  “Get some sleep. And text me,” he commanded.

  Then he was gone.

  When the door closed behind him and I was left alone…that was when the tears began to fall.

  With a sigh, I lay back down and closed my eyes. It had been months since the incident had happened, when Caiden had been shot, thankfully not fatally, and his stepmother had died. The Belarusian gang working with his stepmother was gone for good, and the docks where everything had taken place had been levelled, as if they were never there to begin with. I’d been dragged into the entire thing completely by mistake when Caiden’s stepmother had been fed the wrong information, information that I was supposedly his girlfriend, even though we’d never been properly together like that.

  Months since anything bad had happened. The nightmares were much less frequent now—and I’d finally been able to start sleeping again, with the help of my lamp and a white noise app on my phone.

  But no matter how hard I tried to convince myself that everything was okay, no matter how much I reminded myself that I was fine, sleep didn’t come for the rest of the night.

  TWO

  The next morning, I stumbled out of bed and into my bathroom. Looking at my reflection in the mirror after my shower, I sighed, thinking back to my life before the incident. You wouldn’t know it to look at me now, with my tired eyes and dull, dark brown hair, but I used to be the girl everyone envied. Along with my former best friend, Portia, we’d ruled the halls of Alstone High, and then Alstone College, constantly surrounded by girls who wanted to be our friends because of our status. We hung out with the most popular boys, and life had been…easy, I suppose. My dad was of the sort to give me whatever I wanted without question as long as my grades remained high, so I’d enjoyed freedom and an almost unlimited supply of material things.

  Then, everything had started to go wrong. It had begun with Winter Huntington showing up at Alstone College, turning Caiden Cavendish’s head with her beauty. I’d hated her then, for stealing the attention of the most influential, hottest guys in Alstone. Caiden, his brother Weston, Cassius Drummond, and their friend Zayde Lowry, collectively known as the Four.

  To begin with, everything was normal, but it soon became clear that our position at the top was slipping. The Four picked Winter and became so protective of her, and they began to turn on me and Portia, bit by bit. We hadn’t helped ourselves, if I was honest, and I really wasn’t proud of my behaviour back then. At one point, Winter and I had almost ended up in a fight, but Caiden had come along and made it crystal clear to me and everyone else that he’d chosen her.

  It hurt. Not so much because I wanted him, because although he was one of the hottest men I’d ever seen with his jet-black hair, gorgeous face, and sexy, tattooed body, there was never really any spark between us. It hurt because I’d wanted what he represented. Power. Status. Security. Social standing. All the things that had been important to me.

  Everything had begun to fall apart. Portia was hiding something from me, and we were growing apart. When the incident had happened, I’d finally cracked and called her, after hours and hours of sitting there on my sofa, numb. Her only concern had been the fact that I was pulling out of our planned shopping trip to London. She never even gave me a chance to tell her what had happened. That had been the first nail in the coffin. The second nail was the first day she’d seen me after the incident, and she’d berated me for the way I looked.

  “What happened to you? You look…”

  The expression on her face was disgusted, her mouth opening and closing as she stood in my flat, clearly lost for words.

  I took a deep breath. I needed to speak to someone about this. No one knew, except for those that had been there that night, and really only Cassius and Weston had actually seen me properly. Every time I thought about what had happened, my throat closed up, and my heart raced so fast that I grew light-headed.

  “A man—”

  “Was he hot?” Portia was suddenly in my face, her gaze fixed on me.

  “No. No. Portia, he assaulted—”

  “Don’t want to hear it. If he wasn’t hot, then forget him.” She waved her hand in the air. “Are you actually going to put some makeup on?”

  Suddenly angry, I glared at her. “No, I’m not.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and her lips thinned. “I see. You… Ever since your father started cosying up with the Cavendishes and Drummonds, you’ve been different. I suppose you think you’re too good for me now, do you?

  “What?” I stared at her. “No! I never said that.”

  She treated me to one of her disdainful looks. “You didn’t have to say anything. It’s obvious by this…” Her hand flicked up and down in my direction. “You can’t even be bothered to make an effort.”

  “Portia, no. You’re getting the wrong idea.” My voice cracked, ice freezing my veins at the thought of my best friend abandoning me. And how fucking pathetic was that? I was Jessa De Witt, the girl that everyone wanted to be.

  Hot tears filled my eyes.

  “I’ve seen enough.” Portia lifted her head, her mouth set in a flat line. “As far as I’m concerned, you can lose my number.”

  Then she turned on her heel and left, my apartment door slamming shut behind her.

  The tears fell.

  I’d never felt so alone.

  Now Portia had moved away, for good, and I was left with the pieces of my life. I’d realised just how shallow my existence had been when my other so-called friends had drifted away in Portia’s wake, and it was only my family name that had stopped me from becoming completely invisible.

  The people I spoke to most these days, if you could call a group chat mostly consisting of memes “speaking,” were Cassius, his sister, Lena, Winter’s best friend, Kinslee, and Winter herself. Yes, Winter. We were far from friends, but after everything that had gone down, I guess you could say we were civil. Life was too short to hold a grudge.

  I had a sneaking suspicion she pitied me, though, and that was a thought I couldn’t stand. I made sure to avoid her in person, because being pitied—that would be the final nail in my coffin.

  With all these thoughts whirling through my head, I pulled on a summer dress and flip-flops, taking my time to brush out my hair and apply a small amount of makeup for the first time in a long time. The sun was shining outside, and as I stepped out of the front door, pulling on my sunglasses, I could almost convince myself that I was okay.

  Almost.

  Firmly pushing everything from my mind, I made a beeline for the apartment block car park where my grey Mercedes S560 was parked. Once inside, I
hit my half-brother’s name in my contacts list and sent him a quick message.

  Me: On my way. Don’t forget our lunch date

  He replied immediately, which was surprising in a way. Austin De Witt was always busy running his empire. He’d decided not to go into the family business, instead building up his own company that he’d started from scratch, first in the drinks industry, making a name for himself with a small range of spirits, and now he’d expanded by way of a merger with another company to run his own nightclub with an attached bar, right in the middle of prime London territory. All that, and he’d only just turned twenty-four. I had big shoes to fill.

  Austin: Haven’t forgotten. See you soon

  Dropping my phone to the passenger seat, I let a small smile cross my face.

  After checking myself in the car mirror to make sure I looked presentable, because Austin would ask too many questions if I showed up without perfect hair and makeup, I started up the engine. I headed into central London and down to the sushi restaurant close to my brother’s bar. I’d suggested meeting at his bar, but he wanted to be away from his workplace.

  “I ordered for you,” was his greeting when the hostess showed me to our table, tucked away in a corner of the restaurant. He flashed me a quick grin, all white teeth and tanned skin, and I smiled, relaxing. Even though my brother could be a bit standoffish at times, and we didn’t see each other often, he still looked out for me, and I knew he cared.

  As we ate, we made small talk about my degree course, and he told me about a new gin he was acquiring for his brand. I found myself relaxing, my troubles melting away as we talked.

  “The final part of the merger’s going ahead,” he told me when we were finishing up the last of our food. “I’ll soon be working out of that building there.” Lifting his finger, he indicated towards a huge, shiny skyscraper. “The whole place is new.”