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fucking hate people.
You’re nothing. You’re fucking dead to me.
But before I can do anything else, a firm grip wraps around my throat, causing a strangled gasp to catch in my chest as the person backs me away from the door and slams me into the mattress. Air rushes out of my lungs from the impact in a choked-out cough. Pressure builds behind my eyes as they fly open in fear to see Chris – my evil and deluded stepbrother – above me.
Your son is just a fucking monster, Nora.
I wish I could strangle my stepbrother in his sleep without him thinking I’m trying to make it sexual.
“I’m your sister.” He snatches my jaw again, angles my head right back, and before I can yell at him to fuck off, or even take a breath, he pries my lips apart and pours the wine into my mouth. “Stepsister. So I can do whatever the fuck I want to you. You’re mine, remember? Now, since you like to drink so much, fucking drink.”
Stupid urges. Repress that shit.
on your head. To say that I’m a bitter cunt about it is an understatement. I hate her with a fucking unrelenting passion.
No one fucks Stacey and gets away with it. I can’t have her, but nobody else will.
Tossing my friend into a fire could be passed off as an accident, right?
Tobias struggled with every emotion and had no idea how to control them. Whereas his son can feel them to some extent, can certainly show them when he’s comfortable enough and doesn’t go on a killing spree when things don’t go his way.
That's debatable
We had everything, and now we have nothing but lies and grudges. I can’t be mad at him – not really. But he walked away so easily, and I couldn’t fight for him.
“You irritate me. You’re a poisonous snake that won’t fuck off from my mind. You’re everywhere yet nowhere. A fucking disease.”
“Rock your hips into my cock, Freckles,” he whispers quietly, and I nearly whimper. “I fucking dare you.”
“When I find out who hurt you, I’m going to fucking destroy them. I’ll make sure to bleed them dry then fuck you next to their corpse. You got that?”
had five rules I stuck to for two years. Rule one: Stay away from your toxic ex-girlfriend. Rule two: Don’t unblock her number. Rule three: If you’re both in the same room, don’t fucking look at her – it’s a trap. Rule four: Under no circumstances will you have any sexual interactions with her. Rule five: Never forgive Stacey Rhodes.
I don’t deserve nice things. I don’t deserve to have her look at me like I’m her fucking God, but she also doesn’t deserve me.
I’m not a gentleman who can offer sentiments and roses. Not anymore. I’m a creation of being used and abused, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. It’s my life now; I just need to live it.
Annoyingly, Stacey is truly beautiful and sexy, and everything mixed together. But she’s the devil. A twisted snake.
In and out. Just breathe in and out. Stacey knocks on the door, but I can’t make out her soft voice or what she’s saying. My hands are shaking, my knees bouncing as I fist at my hair and feel the layer of sweat on my face. My vision blurs, and I feel myself losing consciousness. Fuck. It’s happening again. Fuck.
“I’m going to intentionally crash,” I tell him, and his eyes go wide. I cut him off before he can speak. “And I’m going to unclip your seat belt right before we hit a tree.” I press down on the accelerator. “Unless you say you’re sorry.”
I’m telling myself I’m going for a snack, and it’s sort of true – the snack being a five-foot-four tattooed aerialist with delicious curves, toned from exercising, who’s badly singing along to “Wrecking Ball” as it echoes throughout the manor.
Jesus, why can’t I just fucking breathe
“Dad… I can’t breathe properly and my… my chest is killing me. My lips are tingling and so are my hands. The way it used to happen when I was a kid.”
“I wanted to go home to you. I cried for you.” “You cried for me? When? While you were on top of him?”
Losing your voice to everyone is one thing, but losing your voice to someone you loved – trusted – is ten million times worse. I’ve never been heard. My dad didn’t even listen when I told him about Chris abusing me. Staying silent is like being in a mental prison.
“You’re not some crazy paid hitman, are you?” I ask with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Oh wait, you’re paid for sex.” Then I pause, thinking. “Drug dealer?”
Just as I go to lower myself onto him, I yelp in surprise as Barry walks through the door, informing us we need to take our seats for landing.
“I might kill Barry,” I whisper against Kade’s ear, feeling him shiver. Kade sighs and drops his head to my shoulder, gripping my hips before lifting me up enough to break the intimate connection. “I’ll do it for you. I have a gun in my bag.”
“Back off.” He laughs before baring his teeth. “Or what? I’m one of five leaders here, and I—” Kade pulls the trigger. I jump with a strangled gasp as the blast rings in my ears. The man’s body falls to the ground, lifeless – dead – while red trickles from the hole between his eyes. My palm crushes to my mouth to muffle my scream, bile rising in my throat. Unfazed, Kade tucks his gun into his waistband. “None of you will lay a finger on her – are we clear?”
HELL YEAH
I still find it ridiculous that we live in Scotland – where it rains almost every day and we get a week of summer a year, if we’re lucky – and have an outdoor pool. I’ve been in it four times, and each one resulted in shrivelled balls and left me close to catching fucking pneumonia.
Regardless, he can’t have Stacey. I’ve claimed her and no one else can have her but me. Kind of. I think. Probably not, but I’d like to. Wait. How does one claim a person?
Just chill and don’t stab her like your dad did to Aria.
“Some money-hungry dude and a musical,” my sister thankfully answers. “He cheats on his wife and still gets a happy ending. Bullshit.”
Best explanation of The Greatest Showman
Once I respond to some of my students, my phone beeps with illegible messages from Kade. Kade: Stcy Awke? Kade: Goooodnghjt freecks.
Poor baby got drunk :(
I felt alive for the first time when I had Stacey, and now everything within me is black. I’m dead inside.
Would she care if I died? I’m not afraid – if it happens, it happens, but a part of me would want to know how she’d feel. Regretful? Sad? Relieved? Would I see tears on her cheeks like I did on the jet?
If she pointed at a random person and told me to shoot, I’d pull the trigger with no questions asked. Yet I can’t stand to breathe the same air as her. I’ve even pictured myself killing her once or twice and regretted the mental images instantly.
Freckles, darling, I’m a fucking animal. You should’ve seen me Jackie Chan my shit today.
“I want you to kiss me again.” Oh thank fucking God. If she’d asked me to eat her out or to fuck her, I would’ve disintegrated into a pile of dust.
“Why do you have a picture of an ultrasound on your phone? You knock someone up?” Before he can inspect the picture and see the woman’s name, I swipe it out of his hand. “Charge and use your own fucking phone, and no, I didn’t knock anyone up.” “That was a baby scan.” I shake my head. “I mean it, Base. Drop it.” “I’m your best friend. You can tell me this shit. Who did you get pregnant? When are you going to be a dad? I need to know this shit! I’ll be Uncle Base!” If only he knew how old this scan is.
“If you weren’t such a twisted snake, I’d tell you how hot you looked tonight.”
“I’m making conversation, not trying to fuck you.” “Thank God. I’ve faked enough orgasms with you to last a lifetime.” I gasp as Kade snatches me by the throat and pins me to the wall in a flash, his chest and grip holding me in place as his heavy breaths hit my ear. “I’ll tell Base to take my sister without us and prove just how full of shit that fucking statement is.”
“Kade, would you kill me if I had a threesome with your sister and her best friend?”
Slut. You prefer them older, don’t you? You’re dead to me. I was dead to myself too.
I no longer see the young American but Chris and numerous other men standing in Kade’s grip, uncaring as they talk about all the ways they wanted to fuck me that night. The way Chris egged them on. Charged per fuck. Videoed it. I see my brother hovering over me while I hallucinated, begged him to take me home and cried that I wanted my boyfriend. The way his lips felt on my forehead while he let someone else violate me with their mouth. Teeth sinking into my breast, leaving a wound that took weeks to heal. No Name isn’t No Name. He’s another Chris, who drugs and destroys, breaks and
...more
Besides, I’m nothing but a slut to him.
“Hey. Talk to me, Freckles.” That name triggers so many memories for me. I could listen to your voice on the phone forever, Freckles. I miss your annoying face. I’ll see you soon, Freckles. Can I touch you, Freckles? I’m not asking, Freckles. You’re going on a date with me. Freckles. Freckles. Freckles.
Damn. My girl is talented.
I don’t want to just fuck her and disappear like Dez and Base do; I want to share every single first with her and stick around.
