Little Stranger (The Web of Silence Duet, #1)

by Leigh Rivers

My lips curl into a smile. I’m a Vize too. We aren’t afraid of anything. Except spiders—they creep me out.

“Can you write? If not, I can teach you that too.” I watch him take the black one and write down one word that makes no sense. Mine.

Im hooked

“Mom told me not to let boys kiss me! You’re a boy!” I’m your brother, so I’m allowed. “Really?”

“Malachi. Drop me at Abbi’s place or I’ll scream.” He glances at me, presses down on the accelerator, and signs, Then scream.

Stop being a brat.

“We can’t,” I say firmly. “You know it’s wrong.” Don’t grind your ass on my cock and I won’t accept the invitation.

Malachi: Do I need a reason? Give me your hand, or I’ll tell Mom you touched my dick while I was asleep.

Malachi: You got mad. Why? Me: I don’t know what you’re talking about. Malachi: Was my baby sister jealous?

No. You were mine when we were kids, and you’re mine now. You’ll always be mine.

Can I taste you?

But you are my sister. My dirty little sister who’s going to touch herself in front of me. Show your big brother what you sound like when you come.

Don’t silence me like that, he signs furiously. Don’t ever fucking silence me, Olivia.

Stop saying that. We aren’t blood related. You aren’t my real sister, so what’s the goddamn problem?

and hopefully he isn’t some sort of lycanthrope and able to smell my arousal like they can in romance books.

Go kiss your future husband, little sister. And when you do, you better think about me and all the ways I’ll fuck you in his blood.

Because I can’t talk? Because I can’t tell you how fucking breathtaking you are every second of every day? Because I can’t breathe without being near you? Someone like me… I’m different—I can’t be normal for you. I can’t defend you without using my fists or my bat, and I can’t touch you at the same time as telling you that you’re everything to me. I can’t whisper sweet nothings into your mouth and I can’t fucking marry you because not only am I your brother, but I’m defective.

Believe me or don’t, but you’re the only person in my life, and you always have been. And when you take your last breath, or I take mine, that won’t fucking change. You. Are. Mine. My goddamn property, do you understand?

He interrupted my meal—maybe now he’ll know better than to take away my food, the fucking asshole.

I sit forward and open up my search bar, hunting to see if there’s any way to perform a hysterectomy safely at home, but I fail to find a single article.

Out of the millions of names she could have chosen, she picked one with four goddamn syllables?

If her mom wasn’t already dead, I’d kill her for calling her fucking Olivia.

They killed my fucking spider, the assholes.

I knew how important she’d be to me, and when she learned sign language, and how to play “Happy Birthday” on the piano for me, I thought I was important to her too. Years passed, but I could never handle being far from her. I always wanted to kiss her and laugh with her, to lie in her bed and watch her sleep, sniff her fucking hair like the drug it is.

“The itsy bitsy spider,” I whisper against her ear, sliding in and out of her cunt. “Climbed up the waterspout.”

She keeps slipping under the water, and it’s fucking annoying me.

“You’re mine, Malachi. You’re mine and I’m yours and I love you more than words can explain. Please forgive me. Please. I want you. I want to be with you, build a life with you, and make memories with you. I want to wake up every morning with you by my side. I want you to chase me through these woods and take me against a tree. I want everything you have to give. All of it. Everything. Because I choose you.

They wanted to hear me scream while they pushed the needle into my arm, so I didn’t. I was starved, thin, weak, but at least I had power over my speech. They wouldn’t take that from me too, because I hid it somewhere only Olivia could find it.