Cruel Infatuation: A Dark Romance (Underground Kings Book 3) Read online

  Cruel Infatuation

  Kelli Callahan

  Copyright © 2020 by Kelli Callahan

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Prologue

  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

  Epilogue

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  Kelli’s Voracious Vixens

  About the Author

  Also by Kelli Callahan

  Cruel Temptation

  Prologue

  GRAYSON

  Nine years ago

  I used to always say hate is a strong word and only use it sporadically.

  Yeah, I lied.

  I hate my bitch of an ex-girlfriend. I hate her so much I wish hell would swallow her whole.

  She’s sitting on the stand, lying under oath, and the jury is putty in her hands. Kendall is crying fake, dramatic tears, as she lies about how I raped her.

  Raped her.

  I’m fucking baffled. Never would I touch a woman out of turn. If a woman doesn’t want attention, to be touched, or anything else, a man stops. That’s how it is. That’s how it should be. A man needs to respect a woman. Without women, men wouldn’t have a damn thing.

  I believe that to this very moment, and it’s why I’m so angry. Kendall knows I’d never touch her like that. I’d never force myself on her. I loved her, and a sick part of me still does, even knowing her betrayal.

  A month ago, Kendall Johnson reported me to the cops for rape. I was half asleep when I was arrested at my home near midnight. I was told my charges and read my rights. I thought there was a mistake, but Kendall played the perfect actress. Anytime we saw each other around court, she looked at me with fear.

  I thought, okay, the one thing I have on my side is evidence. And then, that hope was taken away from me.

  The rape kit found that she was telling the truth since she had bruises on her wrists and an injured cervix. My DNA was found inside her which was the nail in the coffin for me. We had been together for three years, so we didn’t wear protection. She was on birth control, so we weren’t worried if we got pregnant. I thought we were going to get married. I stupidly thought I found the person I was going to spend my life with.

  As for the bruises, Kendall liked rough sex. She liked to be bound and fucked hard. But the morning we had sex, I remember it because it was subpar at best. She put in no effort. It was quick, no passion whatsoever, and she rolled out of bed quicker than I could finish my orgasm. I knew then our relationship was over, but I had no idea she held such disdain for me to accuse me of something I didn’t do.

  She was fucking someone else in order to have the bruises and the injured cervix. I didn’t do that. She must have worn a condom with him, or the guy pulled out. Either way, she’s a lying, cheating, whore.

  And I hate her just as much as I loved her.

  “What happened next, Ms. Johnson? After you got home from work.” Her lawyer leans against the podium and invades her personal space. The way he’s staring at her makes me wonder if he’s the guy she had sex with the same day as me. Maybe he isn’t. Maybe she’s just spreading her legs for him too to get out of paying lawyer fees.

  Not a bad idea considering I’m paying for the best goddamn lawyer in the state of California, and he hasn't done anything for me. I guess there isn’t much to be done. Everything points to me, and my word isn’t enough.

  “Well, he started kissing me, and I said no.” She sniffles and dabs under her eyes as she cries. “I had a long day at work, and I wasn’t in the mood. You girls get that, right?” she asks the jury, and all the women are wearing sympathetic looks on their faces.

  I’m a fucking dead man.

  I’m not disregarding the importance of rape. I believe the men or women who do it need to be charged and found guilty. There’s no doubt about that.

  But this? I didn’t do this. I am not this kind of man.

  I bury my hands in my hair and try to take a deep breath. My eyes burn from the enormous weight of the situation and the reality of my life being over. Once I have this on my record, I won’t be able to do anything with the family company. My dad has already cut me off, and all I have left is my trust fund. I’m lucky. I know that. I’ll have that when I get out of prison.

  I know that’s where I’m going.

  I loosen my tie when the room starts to get hot. I’m sweating.

  “Are you okay?” my lawyer whispers out of the side of his mouth.

  Is he an idiot? Do I look okay? Does anything about this situation seem okay? How the hell did he pass law school?

  “Well, he didn’t like that answer. He tossed me on the bed and ripped off my clothes and pinned my wrists above my head.” She pulls her long sleeves away from her wrists and shows the jury the faded bruises that are now yellow instead of the deep blue in the photos. “Then he slapped me across the face.”

  “Bullshit,” I mutter under my breath when she touches her cheek, as if remembering the pain I caused her.

  “Then he lifted up my skirt and ripped my panties off, and then he…” She swallows and looks away from her lawyer.

  “And he what, Ms. Johnson?”

  “And then he unzipped his pants and forced himself on me.”

  “What does ‘force himself’ mean? Did he kiss you? Hold your legs? What did he do exactly, Ms. Johnson?”

  Her lips wobble as her eyes search the room, and when they land on me, her lips part. Nothing about her looks beautiful to me anymore. Her brown hair I was once so obsessed with looks like a tangled rat’s nest, and her eyes are too small for her face. Or I’m just seeing how ugly she really is on the inside, and it’s making her outside match.

  I meet her stare, and years of memories play in front of me. The moment we first met, our first kiss, the sound of her laugh, our first Christmas, the happiness… Everything was a lie.

  The hesitation in her answer tells me she knows what she is doing is wrong, but if she knows, why is she doing it?

  “And then he put his penis inside me, even after I said no. He kept on. I couldn’t fight him off. I mean, look how big he is!” She points to me as another tear falls down her cheek. This tear is real. I can tell. Her eyes always get squinty when she is actually sad, and her face gets blotchy.

  Like it is right now, and her face has been clear as day the entire trial.

  I’m six-five and in shape. The jury is having no problem imagining me overpowering her.

  “I thought we would be together forever. I thought he was my one true love. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, but after what he did, no way. No woman deserves that.”

  “Thank you. No further questions, Your Honor.” Her lawyer smirks at mine as he walks back to his table.

  My attorney stands and ambles forward, unbuttoning his bl
azer and shoving his hands in his pockets. “Ms. Johnson, you said that you loved him, correct?”

  “That’s correct,” she says in the microphone, and it takes all I have not to laugh. She never loved me. If she did, she wouldn’t be doing this. It all makes sense now. She’s a girl from the wrong side of the tracks, and I’m the rich guy she dug her claws into, and like a fool, I let her.

  “But you and Mr. Campbell have been in a serious relationship for years. He has no criminal record, no other women have come forward to corroborate your story or have similar situations. Nothing in his behavior says that he is the kind of man to do such crime. Now, on the day you accused Mr. Campbell of rape, you were seen with another man—” The jury whispers to one another, and my lawyer turns his head and winks at me over his shoulder.

  I sit up straighter from this news. This is the first I’ve heard of it. Finally, fucking hope flares in my chest. Maybe he is worth the hefty price tag.

  My attorney grabs a file off the desk and hands it over to the jury, then he offers a copy to Kendall. “This is a photo of you leaving a gas station with an unidentified man two hours after your sexual intercourse with Mr. Campbell. Who is this man, Ms. Johnson?”

  “That’s my friend David. I called him after it happened. I didn’t know who to turn to or what to do.”

  “Gas station shows a record of you buying condoms with this man. Is it possible that you were having an affair with David? Is it possible the man in the photo was the one who hurt you, but you’re blaming my client because he has money? Isn’t that true, Ms. Johnson!”

  “Objection. Badgering the witness, Your Honor.”

  “Sustained. Mr. Alkroy, please rephrase your question without attacking the witness,” Judge Parcel says, a strong older woman with a backbone for no bullshit. I know I'm going to be found guilty. A woman judge, mostly women on the jury, and more evidence to convict me than Charles fucking Manson.

  “Of course. Apologies, Your Honor. Ms. Johnson, are you accusing the wrong man of rape for his money?”

  “No, I would never do that. I do expect a settlement fee, though.”

  That has my lawyer cocking his head and laughing. “A settlement? You realize all of this could have been avoided if you wanted to settle. A nice chunk of change for all that debt you’re in sounds nice, doesn’t it.”

  “Second warning, Mr. Alkroy,” the judge side-eyes my lawyer.

  “Sorry.” He clears his throat. “I believe this woman is hiding something, men and women of the jury. Is it a coincidence that after three years of dating, she’s just now coming forward with this allegation and after a slew of debt racking up in the last six months. Not to mention, your friend in that photo can’t be found, and he has a record longer than the equator.” He turns toward the judge and grins. “No further questions, Your Honor.”

  “Where the hell did that come from?” I ask him in a low hush as he sits.

  “They don’t pay me the big bucks for nothing, but it’s still going to be hard to beat. Your odds are stacked against you here.”

  “I know. I appreciate you trying.”

  “If it makes a difference, I think she’s lying out of her teeth. Any good lawyer would see that,” he says, clapping me on the shoulder.

  After today, my faith in the criminal justice system will die. How can I place my fate in the hands of people who found me guilty the minute I stepped through the doors?

  An hour later, my fate is decided.

  “We the jury find the defendant guilty of rape and assault.”

  Guilty.

  “Fuck,” my attorney curses.

  I’m not surprised. “Alkroy, don’t let that bitch get a dime of my money, okay? Not one fucking dime. I don’t care how hard she tries.”

  “I won’t give up on this. I’ll keep digging for anything to clear your name, Grayson.”

  “It won’t matter.” I stand as the deputy walks toward me. I put my hands behind my back before he can ask, and he slaps the cuffs on me.

  “I sentence you to eight-years in federal prison. No chance of parole. You shouldn’t have ever come into my court room, Grayson Campbell. If there is one thing I do not take kindly to, it’s a rapist.” She slams the gavel down, and the deputy pushes me toward the door where the holding cells are.

  I pass Kendall, and we lock eyes. “Karma is a bitch, Kendall. Just like you,” I sneer.

  “Shut up. Keep walking.” The deputy shoves me toward the door, and my shoulder slams against it, the momentum causing it to open.

  I don’t know what the hell the next eight years has in store for me, but I’ll never trust a woman again. If someone I loved for three years can turn their back on me so easily, then so can anyone else. I’m better off alone. The only person I can trust is myself.

  The only person who always knows the truth, is me.

  Fuck there being three sides to every story.

  There’s my side and Kendall’s side.

  The truth always seems to get buried by lies. No matter how deep, the truth will rise to the surface, and the liar will get punished.

  Eight years and counting.

  Revenge will be mine, and karma will be a bitch.

  Chapter One

  GRAYSON

  Present Day

  I glance toward my closed bedroom door and make sure no one is coming down the hall. The Cliff House has grown over the last year when it comes to how many people are in it and there always seems to be someone wandering the halls.

  No one would ever enter my room anyway, but I’m paranoid. I’m afraid Quinn or Gabriella will knock on my door, and I’ll lose the nerve to do what I’ve been trying to do for weeks now.

  Build a dating profile.

  I don’t want to date, date. I’m not trying to go out on the town with someone and build a huge future or anything. I don’t believe in futures anymore, not after what Kendall did.

  No, that’s lie.

  I don’t want to believe in a future anymore, but after Quinn and Jaxon found one another and then Sebastian and Gabriella, it’s hard not to believe in fate when it’s been thrown all around me lately.

  Jaxon went to prison for killing his sister, something he didn’t do, and then ten years later he crashed Quinn’s wedding to stop her from marrying the real killer. Then, Gabriella had been in love with Sebastian for years, but his brother set him up, and Sebastian went to prison. Years later, Sebastian tried to find her, but Gabriella had been under lock and key with Sebastian’s brother.

  He tortured her. He abused her for years. Just the thought has me wishing the man would come back to life so I could kill him, but Gabriella had that honor by strangling him with the whip he always used on her.

  How the hell can I not believe in love or want it for myself if the people around me can find each other out of the most challenging pasts? It’s just me, Heaven, and Owen now. Heaven fucks anything that moves, and Owen is a loner by nature.

  I’m only a loner because I’m too nervous to trust anyone again.

  Quinn is pregnant, and seeing Jaxon rub her belly, talking to it, kissing it, laying his head on her lap so he can place his ear against it, makes me realize I want that. I don’t know how to have it. I’m fucking broken. Kendall put me through the ringer, and I don’t know how to get past the pain she caused.

  She ruined my life.

  Sure, I have the guys and more money than I can imagine now that we do heists. We haven’t been on a job recently since Jaxon and Heaven are healing from the explosion that nearly killed us last time. My side is okay. It still twinges, but I guess that’s what happens when a metal bar impales you.

  My trust fund is gone. When my lawyer said Kendall was going after everything, I made him donate all of it to a domestic abuse charity. I had no money when I came to Jaxon’s door after deciphering a code in the paper. He was looking for a few guys, and I guess only certain people can dissect code.

  After a few heists, I had more money than I ever had in my life. We would never ha
ve to plan another heist. Not if we didn’t want to. We had enough money for us, our kids, and our kid’s kids.

  But we like it too much. Revenge is strong in this group since we were all innocents wrongfully accused of crimes were did not commit. Years later, after regaining our freedom, we feel an overwhelming urge to seek justice. Now, we are criminals.

  We steal from other criminals. We haven’t had any backlash from Richard, the guy we tried to steal from when we all got injured. He’ll be lucky to find us. No one can. It’s why they call us the Underground Kings. We get in and out. The explosion set us back, and we almost got caught red-fucking-handed.

  I’m glad we didn’t. One, I don’t want to go back to prison. Two, I have a better life now than I ever have. I want what my friends have, but I know that can never happen because I don’t trust a soul. I’m not capable of knowing how to put my faith in someone again. I’m a bitter man. I have been for a long time.

  I’m not worthy of love anymore, and I know for damn sure I’m not capable of giving it. I don’t want to feel lonely, so maybe I can make a friend that isn’t based in this house.

  I open my laptop and peek toward the door again. When I see the coast is clear, I open the browser and type: dating websites.

  What else do I say? I don’t know what the hell I’m doing in this modern world anymore. Prison had the basics and the world changes a lot in eight years. It’s taken me the entire year that I’ve been out to learn all the new apps. It’s crazy how someone can order food with the touch of a button and have it delivered.