Reining Devotion: A Chaotic Rein novel
Reining Devotion
A Chaotic Rein novel
Haley Jenner
Edited by
ELLIE MCLOVE
Copyright © 2020 by Haley Jenner
All rights reserved.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Editor: ellie mclove @ My Brother’s Editor
Cover Design: Ellie McLove
Cover Artist: Fernando Ferreiro
Original Photographer: Jessica Wikstrom
Model: Jorgen Andreassen
This book is intended for those 18 years and older. It contains content of an adult nature.
Contents
Acknowledgments
Introduction
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Epilogue
Rocco & Ryn’s Playlist
IMPACT
About the Author
Also by Haley Jenner
Acknowledgments
We know you babes have been eagerly awaiting Rocco and we can’t thank you enough for sticking with us while we found his voice. From the moment we met him in Tangled Love we knew he’d have a tumultuous story to tell and boy was it a ride.
As always, there is a community of people pushing us up and making sure we give you the best possible stories our hearts want to tell:
Ellie McLove. We say this often, but we’ll continue to shout it from the rooftops a million and one times over. Thank you so much for honoring our voice. Thank you for always seeing our vision and making sure it comes to life in the most impactful way possible.
Michelle Clay and Annette Brignac, could you please tell us how we survived life without you? Thank you for all that you do for us. You manage, beta and proof like nobody’s business and we heart the everloving shit outta you both. Your friendship means the absolute world to us both.
To the authors who continually inspire us and lend an ear when we need to chat, your love and support is something that we’ll forever be grateful for. We love you all.
To our Group Therapy babes. Oh, how we adore thee. Thank you for being our most favorite place in the world. You bring a light to our lives we never want to lose. Love you.
To our street team, the bloggers and bookstagrammers who stand up and shout about HJ to the world. We could not, and we stress could not do this without you. From every corner of our hearts, we hope you know how much you all mean to us.
To our readers, the babes that pick up our books and get lost in the worlds we create… THANK YOU. Thank you for taking the chance on us time and time again. Thank you for supporting us and encouraging us to live this amazing life. It’s a dream come true.
All our love. Always.
H and J.
P.S. We’ll love you forever and a day if you would consider leaving an honest review of this book #NoPressure.
“No one is ever the villain of their own story.”
Cassandra Clare, Lady Midnight
Dedication
Firstly, to those who have, at any point in their lives, felt unworthy.
Can we tell you a secret?
Your value is limitless. You are worthy.
Last, but definitely not least… to Viv, for the choking belly laughs at midnight. We love you. Please don’t break up with us, no matter how much we pressure you to love us back ;)
Warning:
This book contains sensitive topics that may upset or offend readers.
Please note that while Reining Devotion has been written as a standalone, it is the conclusion in our Chaotic Rein series. For full effect of the story, reading Tangled Love prior will likely enrich the experience of this book.
Chapter One
Rocco
My shoulder pushes back with the power of the gun, jumping away from the bullet propelling forward in slow motion. It flies through air with the soft sound of silence, the catch of every breath in the room wrapping around my spine like a poison.
Only this time she doesn’t move.
There are no quick moving feet to shift her body in front of mine.
No selfless act of love.
How could it be that way?
I’m on the other side of the room. My feet planted in the very spot Marcus’ were.
Only, I am him. He is me. We’re one and the same and she can’t protect me from that reality.
I will myself to scream, to yell at her to move. But my mouth remains comfortably closed, watching on in expectation.
My warped perception has me believe I could reach out and take it back. Catch the lead bullet in my hand and keep it there forever. In a place that could never cause her harm.
Except I don’t. I watch my perfect aim penetrate my aunt’s skull. The center of her forehead pierced by my very own bullet.
The heartache in her eyes flashes like fireworks. Bright blues of sadness. Apple greens of terror. Pulsating reds of rage. A rainbow of regret blinding me. The emotional explosion pushed aside only by her acceptance. She knew this was her ending. That her death would be my doing, her blood forever staining my hands.
I wake on a shout. My apology balancing on the tip of my bleeding tongue, the acquiescence in Mira’s eyes tattooed into the forefront of my mind. A place it will stay for eternity.
I can feel my heart pounding against my breastbone. It begs me with every tortured beat for escape against the agony of living within me. I can’t say the feeling isn’t mutual. If I could rip it from my chest cavity with my very own hands, I would. I’d squeeze the organ forcing me to continue living until it stuttered in my palm. I’d watch it bleed and I’d smile, knowing that my agony was finally over. I’d die in peace. Which is more than I deserve, but I’d take it anyway.
I push against my chest, hand open, massaging my hateful heart into calm.
Awake, I can direct my thoughts away from the ghosts of my past.
I can pretend that it was Marcus that killed Mira. That my quest for vengeance wasn’t what powered that final bullet.
I can pretend that I’m not coated with the blood of responsibility. That if I’d listened to her maybe her life would’ve been spared.
I can pretend that she doesn’t regret giving her life to save mine.
Tiny lies that flutter through my conscience with force. They live on the precipice of life and death every day. Waiting patiently for a hint of weakness that
will let them shrivel up into nothing, leaving me with nothing but the bitter taste of the truth. If that moment doesn’t come in the light of day, my lies relish the night when they can finally leave. The truth is too potent to overcome when I have no choice but to sleep. The deeper crevices of my mind open, a tsunami of reality crashing through me, making me face the real world once again.
Bile rushes up my throat, the acidic reminder of my worst failures burning me from the inside out. I swallow it back down, knowing I deserve the pain.
I often wonder how long I can survive like this? My mind hellbent on killing me, on rotting me from the inside out. Poetic, isn’t it? Murdering myself with guilt. The only solace I can take from that notion is that it will be a horribly slow way to die.
Chapter Two
Rocco
Once upon a time, I thought my mom and dad were invincible. Kane and Lila Shay. They were my very own superheroes. Immortal. Two people I believed would stay by my side forever.
What is it that encourages us to believe that our parents will never leave? Possibly their constant reassurance that no matter what you do or who you are, they’ll continue to love you. Their affection comes without judgment, without condition. It’s resolute. Add that to the fact that love is the most powerful commodity in this world and there you have it, invincibility.
What a load of shit.
I was trained for sixteen years to believe that life was good. That it was fair. That I was loved unconditionally. My belief system wasn’t gradually twisted into the hate inside of my heart today. On the contrary, it was ripped from me with so much force it’s surprising I ever regained the ability to stand on my own again. I was pushed, unwillingly, into survival mode. Forced to pick myself up after my heart, my spirit, my mind had been broken down until all that was left was the rotting taste of rejection and disappointment.
My life irrevocably changed the day Marcus Dempsey and Sarah Rein decided my mother needed to die. It set off a timeline of events that seemed to plunge me farther into the depths of hell. I’m not gonna lie, from that moment, I went willingly. I dug my way into the very purgatory I now live in and taught myself this was real life. The pain I live within. This is what life actually feels like. Not the fairy tale my mother gifted me for sixteen years. No, that was designed to make sure I felt the agony of life in all its glory. The nightmare that was always meant to be.
“Marcus is dead,” I tell her. “Dominic killed him. Imagine that, a Rein saving a Shay.”
The gravestone mocks me, staring back at me in eerie silence. I shift uncomfortably at the bite of wind rushing over my skin. Moving forward I rearrange the white roses resting against the stale gray of her headstone.
“Maybe you know that or maybe not. I’d bet my own life that he ain’t with you. In heaven, or wherever the afterlife has taken you.”
My cell buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore the persistent vibration against my thigh. “I’m tryin’ to find some semblance of peace in the fact that he’s gone. That’s what I wanted. Revenge. Retribution. It’s what I hurt everyone I love searchin’ for. Don’t get me wrong,” I apologize. “I’m happy as fuck that piece of shit is dead. I’m just not sure that in the end, it was worth everythin’ we lost.” The regret in my tone is potent and I cough to clear my throat.
The last few months play like a constant loop in my head. A horror film I’d prefer to forget. One I played a leading fucking role in. Only I wasn’t the hero or the villain. I was the fucking idiotic errand boy. Too stupid to see the bigger picture, still powerful enough to cause catastrophic damage.
“Park’s good.” I changed the subject. “Happy. His woman is good people, you’d never believe she was related to Marcus. I guess in the end it’s nurture over nature, probably why I never stood a chance.” I exhale heavily at the melancholy in my voice. “You’d like her. A lot.” A bark of laughter escapes my lips and I sigh loudly. “She’s a lot like you. Kind. Happy. Thoughtful. All fuckin’ sunshine and rainbows.”
I could imagine her smiling at that. Her white teeth on show, gray eyes dancing in joy. It makes my chin wobble involuntarily, pissing me off.
“How did I not see it?” Head tipped back, I let the piercing temperature of raindrops fall against my face. Hoping like hell it camouflages the tears pooling in my eyes. “It was right in front of my eyes this whole time. Right. Fucking. There.”
I wait patiently for her to speak to me, but of course, there’s nothing but the sound of the wind whipping along my eardrums. “How did Kane not see it? How did your fucking husband not see his closest friend was responsible for everything?”
Turning my head to scan the empty cemetery, my eyes fall along the rows of stones similar to my mother’s. Flowers are scattered amongst them; some fresh, others that have been left to rot into the earth. How many people have done what I’m doing right now? How many men and women have had to sit at the gravestone of a loved one and apologize for failing them so irrefutably?
“Imagine she’s with you.” My voice cracks and I scrub my hands roughly along my face. “That’s what I’m hopin’ anyway. Only thing that’s keeping me breathin’ right now.”
Coughing to clear my throat, I growl, blinking to let my tears mingle with the rain touching my cheeks. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Mom. Tell her I’m sorry, would you? I know it means shit, but, please, just tell her I’m sorry.” I suck in a desperate breath, trying to control the emotion wracking through my body but failing. Miserably. An agonized cry falls from my mouth and I rip at the grass surrounding me. “Fuck.”
I toss the blades of grass to the side. “I can’t even blame this fucked up mess on Marcus. In the end, I was exactly who he wanted me to be. Who he knew I was.”
I wipe at the final tears, standing abruptly, needing to be as far away from the suffocating guilt as I can. “I’m sorry he was right.”
I turn away and hightail it the fuck outta the cemetery. Head down, hands stuffed in the pockets of my jeans, I feel decidedly worse than when I arrived.
It’s done.
She now knows for certain.
My mother knows I’m the monster responsible for the death of her sister. It may not have been my bullet like my dreams want me to believe, but I made sure those dominoes fell.
Lila Shay now knows that the evil that lived inside Marcus is also very much alive within her oldest son. We may not be related by blood, but I was Marcus’ spawn. He made sure of that. Worse, I let that sick son-of-a-bitch mold me into the villain I can’t deny that I am. I’m unbalanced. Unfeeling. I seek out violence and hate. I’m the Devil, and I deserve a fate worse than the fiery depths of Hell.
My car shakes with the force in which I slam the door, working to deny entry to the hollow feeling fighting to find entrance into my space. Inhaling heavily, my lungs fill with the soft scent of the ground I was sitting on seconds ago. The leather of my seat creaks under my ass. My foot clamps down on my clutch. My hand itching to throw the car into gear and feel its power beneath me.
It revs to life at my demand, drowning out the sound of my heart. Glancing in the direction of my mom’s resting place once more, I send a silent prayer, begging for her forgiveness. Slamming the car into gear, I feel it rage beneath me, the exhaust firing like a gun, finally letting me escape the oppressing pain of my own mind.
I wasn’t ballsy enough to visit Mira. I’m a fucking coward. Mom would forgive me, I knew that. Maybe that’s wishful thinking, but my mom saw the good in everything, in everyone. Her love would be with me. But Mira, I all but pulled that trigger myself. How could she ever forgive me? I’m not deserving of it, and I’ll never ask for it. She can hate me. It’s nothing I don’t already feel for myself.
I zig-zag through the cemetery, arching my back to retrieve my phone. Eyes moving between my screen and the road, I hit the recall button.
“Roc.” Raid’s voice echoes through the car’s Bluetooth.
“Tell me you have something.” I ignore pleasantries.
His sigh
filters through the car speakers and I clutch my steering wheel in agitation. “Sarah Rein is a tricky bitch. She’s off the grid. I do have a lead, it’s not solid, but I’ll look into it. See what comes of it. Rein’s looking for her too.”
My tongue drags along the line of my teeth. “I know. I want her before he finds her.”
“I’ll do what I can, but he has more manpower at his disposal. Good chance that won’t be a possibility.”
I growl deep in my throat. “Unacceptable.”
Sarah Rein deserves the same bloody ending as Marcus. One I’d be happy to oblige her. They lived by the same sword, they’re gonna fucking die by it too.
I can’t trust that Dominic Rein has the stomach to kill his wife, and if he is too weak, he needs to step the fuck aside.
“Word on the other thing I had you look into?”
Raid goes quiet for a loaded second and I punch my steering wheel, fury coursing through my body.
“Roc, I’ve been searching. High and low. She’s gone. I don’t know how... but it’s like she doesn’t exist and there’s no record of—”