Dark Vow: A Dark New Adult Romance Read online

  He let me go. He could’ve grabbed my wrist and pinned me there on the ground and had his way with me in front of the whole campus, and I doubted anyone would’ve stopped him.

  But he let me leave and didn’t say a word. I felt his gaze on my back until I disappeared into the student center. When I looked back through the windows, he was gone.

  I got a coffee and found a quiet table alone in a corner. My heart wouldn’t calm down. I could barely breathe and my hands were shaking.

  Calvin Solar wanted to take me to Latvia for the weekend.

  For some business deal.

  I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t know much about his family’s business, but I did know they sold arms. Weapons, guns, bombs. That sort of thing. A business trip to a small Eastern European country meant a few million dollars’ worth of guns would change hands, and Calvin wanted to drag me along to the deal.

  It was insane. This whole nightmare was unhinged.

  But I hadn’t said no. I’d turned down the weekend trip—but I’d never said I wouldn’t marry him.

  Why didn’t I just say it?

  I rubbed both my eyes and tried not to cry.

  2

  Robyn

  For the rest of the week, I obsessed about going to Europe with Calvin.

  Cora said I should do it. She figured I might decide whether I wanted to take him up on his offer or not.

  That seemed insane to me. I mean, there were easier ways than letting him whisk me away to Europe.

  When Thursday rolled around, I decided I needed help. Calvin wanted an answer, and he’d get one whether I liked it or not. That much had become clear since all this started—he wasn’t the sort of man that coddled indecision.

  Jarrod and Cora’s trailer was a short drive off campus. I picked up Cora after her classes were finished and we headed over together. Cora chatted about her professors the whole way, and I tried my best to listen. Calvin had left me gutted and confused, and I found it hard to care about homework and reading and midterms and all that other normal stuff.

  Which drove me crazy. The normal stuff was all I had anymore. The rest of my life was so completely broken and abnormal. I craved mundane things, like taking notes and meeting a friend for lunch.

  I parked behind Jarrod’s truck. Cora hopped out, oblivious to my indecision. She hurried inside, and I followed behind. Their living room was cramped, with two small couches and a TV. The kitchen was next, also tight but surprisingly well stocked. Beyond that was the bedroom and the bathroom. When I slept here, which was a few times per week, they made up the couch. It wasn’t comfortable, but then neither was going home.

  Cora ran into the back to see Jarrod. He had morning classes, then spent the afternoon doing repairs. I took off my boots and got some water boiling in their electric kettle. Cora came out a minute later and kissed my cheek, then held out her hand. “I need your keys.”

  “What for?”

  “Dinner. I’m hitting up the store.”

  I handed them over. “Want some money?”

  “Nah, we’re good.” She grinned and headed to the door. “Jarrod’s just getting changed.” She left after giving me a lingering look.

  I sat on the couch and stretched out my legs.

  Jarrod had moved in with my family when I was young. His parents had been killed in an accident, and my parents took him in. I didn’t think Jarrod had understood what he was getting into at the time—he’d probably seen the manicured lawn and nice house and figured everything was good inside those walls.

  He had been very wrong.

  My father had started hitting him that first week. I think there had been some anger and resentment going back decades. Not necessarily directed at Jarrod, but at Jarrod’s parents. They were both addicts and had borrowed money from my dad over and over again without ever paying it back, and Dad must’ve been pretty angry that he’d never see a dime of it.

  So he’d taken it out on little Jarrod.

  I could still see poor Jarrod on the first night after Dad hit him. He had sat in his room, knees pulled up to his chest, face streaked with tears, lip puffy. Dad had normally been better about hiding the bruises, but he’d gotten mad, and Jarrod hadn’t known to keep his mouth shut.

  I wished I’d comforted him back then, but there had been nothing to say.

  Over the years, Jarrod had gotten the worst of it. Sometimes, he’d stepped in and redirected Dad’s anger away from me and onto him. I’d always loved him for that, even if he was a total bastard to me in public. Jarrod had been a complicated animal, both protective and aggressive, and I hadn’t known which version of him I’d get at any time.

  Now, though, he’d softened. He was still angry, but he didn’t look at the world like it was out to get him anymore. Cora helped tame the darkness. He didn’t lust after pain as much these days.

  Jarrod came out from the back room, rubbing his wet hair with a towel. He grunted at me, which was his way of saying hello, and poured two mugs of tea. He gave me one and sat on the couch to my left, his big body sprawling out. We sat in a short silence as he looked down at his phone and I fidgeted.

  “I saw Calvin today,” I said finally, unable to hold it in.

  “Yeah, I did too,” he said, not looking up. “And Des and Addler.”

  “I mean, he came to talk to me.”

  Jarrod put down his phone. “And?”

  I rubbed my face. I hadn’t told him about the offer yet. Indecision churned in my gut, but I knew I couldn’t hold it back. Cora knew, and I’d made her swear not to tell Jarrod, but it wasn’t fair to keep him in the dark.

  “He made me an offer a week ago.”

  He went very still. “What sort of offer?”

  “He wants to marry me. And in exchange, he’ll make sure that Dad never leaves prison.”

  Jarrod’s jaw tightened. He gripped his mug in both hands like he wanted to crush it. I bet he could, if he tried.

  “You’re not going to do it.” A statement, not a question.

  “Of course not. I mean, he can’t be serious, right? We’re twenty years old. We haven’t even graduated yet.”

  Jarrod’s face twitched. “It’s Calvin. If he said it, he meant it.”

  “Marry me, though? He barely knows me. In all the years he’s been coming around, I’ve spoken to him like ten times.”

  “Doesn’t seem to matter to him.”

  “What do I do?”

  “Tell him no.”

  “And if that doesn’t work?”

  Jarrod grunted and shook his head. “I don’t know what you want from me here.”

  “I want you to say you’ll keep your best friend from forcing your cousin into marriage.”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  I glared at him. “I don’t feel reassured.”

  He went quiet for a moment, then said, “What if you did it?”

  “Jarrod!”

  “You want your dad to stay in prison, right? Marrying Calvin wouldn’t be so bad.”

  “I don’t love him. I don’t even like him.”

  “Good. Then don’t do it. But imagine if you did.”

  I stood up, pissed off that he was even entertaining this. I paced away, head reeling, then turned back to him, hands on my hips. “What do you know about Calvin’s business?”

  He seemed uncertain. “Not a lot. They deal weapons. Defense contractors. Lots of money in that shit.”

  “Is it all legal?”

  “Probably. Mostly. He doesn’t talk about it much.”

  “But you know something.”

  He waved a hand in the air. “He’s going to take over one day. He says he doesn’t like it, but that’s the way things are.”

  “That’s what he needs me for.” I looked down at my hands. My fingers tugged at the hem of my sweatshirt. “He needs a wife and a kid before his dad will name him the heir to the company.”

  “Huh,” Jarrod said, leaning back and crossing his legs. “I guess that makes sense. Ensures some longevity. And he does have brothers.”

  “Calvin has brothers?”

  “Two younger ones. He doesn’t talk much about them, either.”

  “Does he talk about anything?”

  Jarrod laughed and ran a hand through his hair. “What do you want from me? You’ve met Calvin. You know what he’s like.”

  I did know. Quiet, calm, intense. Totally self-assured, like he could never make a mistake and knew it. I envied that kind of confidence.

  “You’re his best friend. I need to know what I’m getting myself into.”

  He sighed and met my gaze with a steady smirk. As much as I hated him sometimes, Jarrod had saved my life more than once. When we’d gotten older and Jarrod had gotten bigger and able to fight Dad off, he’d always make sure to redirect Dad’s anger away from me and onto him—since he’d known Dad wouldn’t try to hit him, not once Jarrod turned sixteen and hit a growth spurt and put on like six inches and fifty pounds of muscle.

  “I think you’re getting yourself into a serious relationship. That’s what I think.”

  “God, you’re useless.” I sipped my tea and cursed. It was still hot. The water burned my tongue. I put it down on the counter and wanted to scream. “I need to get some air.”

  “Go ahead. Door’s right there.”

  “Why are you being such a dick?”

  “Because I don’t think this is as serious as you’re pretending it is.”

  “Calvin wants to marry me. He’s scary as hell. You know that.”

  “Tell him you don’t want it and he’ll stop.” Jarrod shrugged and picked up his phone again, done with this conversation. “I’ll talk to him for you if you want, but I don’t think it’ll help. Might just make it worse.”

  “Jarrod, don’t.
”

  “Then handle it. Tell the guy no and move on.”

  I groaned and grabbed my jacket from the couch. I left the trailer and let the door slam behind me. It was petty, but I knew it’d drive him crazy.

  Outside, the wind was crisp. I paced back and forth, annoyed Cora had my car. I couldn’t leave until she came back, and I didn’t want to be around Jarrod right now.

  I’d expected him to be more—something. Protective? Helpful? Anything but that. He’d acted like this was no big deal, like men made marriage deals with women all the time. Calvin wasn’t someone I wanted to mess with, and the idea of telling him no stuck like a knife in my throat.

  Would he hurt me if I said no?

  I cursed and started walking away from the trailer. I needed to clear my head. Stupid Jarrod had me freaking out again. I’d wanted him to help, but instead he’d acted like this was no big deal, and that only pissed me off even more.

  He’d done a lot over the years. He’d protected me from Dad again and again, and I owed him so much for that. He had been the one who’d gotten Dad thrown into jail and out of my life forever—and I was so grateful.

  But there was a dark side to him. Like he couldn’t be bothered about other people. Only Cora was different. He looked at her like she was the shining jewel in his life.

  Like Calvin looked at me.

  I heard a sound. It was several footsteps from a set of overgrown bushes in the yard next to Jarrod’s small gravel driveway. I turned, frowning, expecting a stray cat or a neighborhood kid—

  Instead, Calvin strode toward me.

  It took a few seconds for his presence to compute. I’d never seen him in the trailer park before, but there he was, glorious Calvin, looking like a shining god, a smile on his lips as he raised a white rag.

  “What are you doing?”

  “You should’ve said yes.” He leapt forward, grabbing me by the back of the head. I gasped in shock—

  And that was when he shoved the rag against my mouth.

  I breathed in something acrid and harsh. I struggled, but my limbs felt numb and heavy and my head swam. Light flashed at the edges of my vision, then it began to tunnel, a thick black spreading quickly.

  Calvin’s arms wrapped around my body before I fell.

  “Sorry, love,” he whispered. “But you should’ve made this easy.”

  Then the black finished, and I was gone.

  Dear Robyn

  Sometimes I can’t control myself.

  There’s a gun range on my father’s estate. He took me out there when I was five years old and taught me how to shoot. He stood behind me and corrected my aim and made me fire, over and over and over, until my legs were tired. When I cried because I was hungry, he kicked me in the thigh and told me to keep going until he was satisfied.

  I hated shooting. I still hate shooting. But my father said weapons are a part of my blood. They are my future.

  Can you imagine?

  Killing and death and blood. I was born into all that.

  He wanted to make me hard.

  I think he took something from me.

  Can you give that back? Can you help me find it again?

  Whatever humanity I’ve lost.

  I was thinking about you today at football practice. I dropped my shoulder and slammed it into this freshman’s chest. I think I broke his rib. It felt like heaven when he was on the ground, gasping for air.

  I thought of what it would taste like to pin you down in the middle of the field and lick your soaking wet cunt.

  That boy’s pain, it meant nothing to me.

  But your pleasure? That means everything.

  I dream about you, Robyn. Your breasts pressed together and shaking as I thrust deep into your pussy. Your clit swollen and pink and soaking wet as it grinds against my tongue. Your lips parted and wide open and moaning.

  I want to pin your arms above your head and fuck you until you scream my name.

  I like it when you struggle. When you fight back. When you make it hard.

  My cock’s stiff right now, thinking about you screaming my name and digging your fingernails into my skin so hard they leave deep red welts.

  Robyn, Robyn, Robyn.

  Will you marry me?

  I think you will.

  I know something’s going on with Cora and Jarrod.

  They did something terrible.

  Would you forgive me if I did something just as bad?

  I don’t think you would.

  Not unless I made you.

  Love,

  C

  3

  Robyn

  I woke in a haze.

  It was hard to think at first. Like my head was all sludge. I groaned, rolled to the side. I was slumped over in a chair. A big, comfortable chair.

  Something vibrated. The whole room vibrated and hummed.

  I touched armrests. Felt a seatbelt.

  I blinked at bright lights and looked out the window.

  Clouds everywhere. Fluffy and thick. Floating in the air.

  I screamed.

  Calvin’s hands were on me then. “It’s okay,” he said quietly into my ear. “It’s okay, Robyn. You’re safe.”

  “Get off me.” I struggled, but the seatbelt kept me pinned down.

  I was on an airplane. A private plane. Small and comfortable—lavish even. Calvin sat in the seat next to mine, and an attractive young woman sat up toward the front near the cockpit, frowning back at me as I fought.

  She didn’t stand or make a move to help.

  Why wasn’t she trying to help me?

  “If you can’t calm down, I’ll sedate you again.”

  I stared at him in terror. My heart raced wildly.

  The blackness.

  “You drugged me.”

  “I did.” He tilted his head. He looked alien and beautiful and serene. “You gave me no other choice.”

  “I told you no. You could’ve respected that.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Let go of me.” I shoved his hands away and looked at the hostess. “Excuse me? Excuse me, can you please help?”

  She stood, walked over—

  And pulled a curtain shut, cutting her off from our conversation.

  I gaped, stunned.

  Calvin laughed. “My people are extremely well paid. How do you think you ended up here like this? You think a normal flight would allow an unconscious girl on board? My family owns this plane, that girl, and the pilots. You’re completely safe, but you’re in my world now.”

  “You need to rethink the meaning of the word safe, you psycho.” I leaned back and squeezed my eyes shut. I still felt heavy and weak. I couldn’t fight him even if I wanted to.

  I couldn’t fight him even if I was at full strength.

  The realization hit me in the gut. He had me now and I was at his mercy. Calvin, terrifying, gorgeous Calvin, the author of the letters that both excited and tormented me. I hung on every word, obsessed over each and every line, and felt an overwhelming sense of revulsion. I hated myself for loving the attention and hated him for lavishing me with his obsession.

  He lapsed into silence. I hated the way he watched me, like every move I made brought him so much joy. I was his favorite movie, playing on repeat, just for him.

  The bastard. I was like a toy.

  I stared out the window and tried to think.

  We were flying to Riga. It was dark out, which meant—it was still Thursday? It couldn’t have been more than a few hours later.

  There had to be a way out of this.

  “I took your phone,” Calvin said conversationally. “I packed you some things. I hope they fit, but we’ll see. Might be better if they don’t.” He seemed extremely pleased. “I know this isn’t ideal. I mean, I don’t exactly want to have to drug and drag my future wife around all the time, but—”

  “I’m not your future wife,” I snapped, anger getting the best of me.

  I was trapped on a plane with this man. He was dangerous, and he’d already proved that he was willing to drug me to get his way.

  He might be willing to do even worse things if I provoked him too much.

  I took steadying breaths. I had to keep calm. I had to think.

  “I know this is a lot,” he said quietly, with just a hint of contrition. I almost believed him. “I wanted to do this the right way. Invite you like a gentleman. Give you every opportunity to come along on your own. But you refused, and now here we are.”