Sicko

by Amo Jones

If you’re still here, I guess you’re still wanting to read… so by all means…

To my darkness. Because the bitch really came out to play with this one.

There was a woman. She stood maybe a whole foot shorter than my six-three. I wanted to study her at close range to understand why she fascinated me so much, but the rustling of leaves that were falling around my feet distracted me enough to forget to ask questions. I was too busy thinking about the circumstances that led me to this point in my life.

I don’t know much about what happened, not because the Kanes didn’t want me to know, but because I’ve never wanted to ask. Being discarded as a baby by my parents is all I need to know.

Apparently, it took him forty-five minutes to talk to me, but then after that, we never stopped. Now I’m fifteen years old. You could say things have changed.

“I’m fucking fifteen. It’s a lot less than what you were doing at my age and you damn well know it.” “Beside the point.” He glares at me, his thumb hovering over the send button. “I lived through all of my shit so you didn’t have to.” He winks at me. “I’m a good brother like that.”

Royce, Orson, and Storm have all been best friends since elementary school—which means yes, I’ve known them practically all of my life.

“Hmmm, now, see, I don’t want to be thinking that some little fuck has this exact view right here.” His eyes crawl down my back, landing on my ass. He stills. “That’d make me pretty mad.”

“And you know how I get when I’m mad, Duchess.”

“What, you don’t think I know that you’re a virgin?” Finally, the worry lines fade and a smirk creeps onto his mouth. “Baby, who the fuck do you think scares them off?”

He’s right. I am the only girl who shreds with the guys, but it’s their fault. They created the monster and then asked why I bite.

Lime, forest, ocean, turquoise, jade. The numbers 2000 tagged in graffiti font. The year I was born and adopted into the Kane family.

There’s never been a shadow of a doubt of what I mean to Royce and I him. Love is love, but when it’s unconditional, it’s for life.

He embedded himself into my heart and I sewed my name across his limbs. We fight a lot, but we love hard and

when it comes to him and me, one cannot exist without the other.

“What’s the matter, Duchess? Gonna finally kiss me now that I’m dying?”

Someone is screaming so loud that my ears bleed, and it’s not until I’m tearing off his hoodie to see the stab wound in his stomach that I figure out that, that someone screaming… is me.

“Hey,” Orson whispers into my ear. “He is going to be alright. You know there’s no way that stubborn fucker will let you walk this earth without being able to protect you.”

“Duchess?” I don’t answer, squeezing the white sheets in the palm of my hand. “I love you, you know that, right?” “I love you too,” I say softly, and before I can form any other words, sleep takes hold of my muscles and my eyes turn heavy.

“I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but those boys—especially Royce, put you on a pedestal so high that no one and nothing can touch you.”

She can’t know. Leaving her is going to cripple me, but I have no choice. Not now. Not ever. And not when it comes to her.

“Tell me what’s going on?” “It’s Royce,” she murmurs, swiping the stray tears with her tissues. “He’s gone, sweetheart.”

I would say that I’ve been healing in purgatory for the past four years, but I haven’t. My soul is trapped in Hell, unwilling to move on. I’ve blocked people out, shut down, and turned to things I shouldn’t to pacify the raw hunger I feel for the one person I should never have lost

I’ve always loved the defiance of the ocean. It’s moody, beautiful, and could kill you if you’re not smart enough to handle its currents.

All of my life I watched as every boy worshipped him, and every girl wanted him. I didn’t do either of those things, but my soul needed him. Until he left me. Alone. In this house. I hate him.

Letting me anywhere near your pussy is not something a smart woman would allow. I’d break your heart right after I break your ovaries.

That boy with an attitude problem turned into a man with issues. Real fucking issues. But until recently, I’ve found myself having to drag my ass back to this house for the very reason I fucking left. Her.

Orson is about to marry India from school. Twist of fate, she ended up being the daughter of the cook his father hired, which was why she had appeared at the party that night. Apparently, they got into the same school too. Cute. For some people, it just works out.

He’s not Royce Kane anymore. He’s the big bad biker with big bad friends and with a hole the size of Mars in his chest where his heart used to be.

“Check beneath your bed tonight, Duchess.”

“Because I will be the monster lurking beneath it. Everywhere you go, I’ll be there. Who you talk to, I’ll know.”

“And you’re wrong…”

“How so?”

“You haven’t seen the worst, because that would have to come from me, and trust me when I say, I have guarded you from that side all your fucking life.”

He fucked me that night. Forced himself inside of me in one thrust. I yelped, but his hand slammed over my mouth to stop any more noise. I was shocked. I didn’t know what to do. I was fifteen years old, and up until that night, he meant something to me.

Royce is a nightmare wrapped in a dream, but Wicked is the Devil’s pet.

“Every time your thighs clench for another man, you will know it was me who put that hunger there. I tore your innocence open.” James was a vicious bastard, but he was a bastard that not even I could win against.

“Why were you left in a dark room with two hungry wolves?” Lips scrape over the back of my neck. “Tell me.”

“Are you ready to be fucked within an inch of your life?”

He runs his other hand down the curve of my spine before cupping my pussy from behind. “Gonna fuck you while I think of someone else.”

“Funny.” I run my tongue over my swollen lip, wincing slightly when I feel the fresh cut and tang of metal touch the tip of my tongue. “Same.”

“Well,” I say, pushing up from my chair. “You’re hoping I keep her safe, you know, away from all the bad little boys in college. Which, given that’s definitely something I would have done in the past, but now I don’t give a fuck.”

God, Royce. So damn beautiful it aches my soul. When I was a teenager, I thought that ache was butterflies, but now, what I feel isn’t butterflies in my belly. It’s my soul exploding from beneath my skin and not having anywhere for the shrapnel to escape to.

“One, I don’t give a flying fuck about your trust. All I want is to have you stay the fuck out of trouble and keep your head down. Two? Stop making this about something other than what it is. You are my sister, one I didn’t fucking ask for, but I protect anyway.

“Royce doesn’t let anyone ride bitch on his bike. You came in like that.”

“No one will so much as breathe near you now. He knows he doesn’t have to worry.”

His thumb swipes at the bottom rim of my lip. “If anyone has hurt you while I’ve been away.” His mouth slams closed and the muscles on either side of his jaw pulse. “I’ll fucking kill them, and that’s not a threat. That’s a goddamn promise.”

couldn’t bring you with me.” His voice is low, soft. As if he didn’t want to say the words, but knew he needed to give me something. “There’s a fucking lot that you don’t know, Duchess. I couldn’t have you around me. I couldn’t take you. I knew you’d be safe at home.”

“Oh how uncanny,” I whisper, fighting the tears that are battling to burst down my cheeks. If I cry, I know it will be all over and he’ll fight me until I tell him what I’m hiding. “You’re not the only one with secrets, Royce.”

Sloane: You and Royce have the longest sex buildup in history. I feel like when you both finally fuck, he’s going to accidentally kill you.