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It was the last day I was me as I knew it and the first day of a new reality that could never be undone. I couldn’t go back. I couldn’t rewind and not go into that maze. I couldn’t undo stepping into that fountain. Because, God, I wished I never did. Some mistakes you never heal from.
And the same chilled fingers I reached for in that fountain all those years ago now brushed mine. “Now . . .” my sister’s new husband whispered in my ear. “Now you belong to me.”
no fucking way Damon
“We won’t be divorcing, Arion. Not ever.”
really?
How could she still want him? And they were going to bring kids into this madness? What he did when we were children wasn’t enough to convince her how bad he was, and neither was what he did to me in high school. She knew he couldn’t stand her, but still, she wanted him anyway. She’d always wanted him.
He would certainly have his fun. My sister was gorgeous. My mother still had her figure and face, judging from the comments I’d overheard. My sister would do anything he asked, and so would my mother. If she refused, he’d just threaten me, and she’d do anything. She might’ve even been an option for this alliance, if not for the fact that she was still married to my father. And I wasn’t an ideal choice, either, because I’d fight him and never stop fighting him. Ari was the easy choice.
“I can’t stay in that house,” I told him. “I’ll leave them to whatever sick game they want to play.” “He won’t let you go.” I could hear him shift into gear again and the engine rev. “He won’t let any of you go. Your mother, your sister, you . . . In his mind, you all belong to him now. You, especially.”
“You think I’ll be easy?” I challenged. “Of course not.” His tone softened, sounding amused. “That’s why he wants you, Winter. Just try not to be predictable next time.”
“Arion is Mrs. Torrance,” he clarified. “The face of his family, and the one who will raise his children. But you?” He paused, his tone darkening and making chills spread down my arms. “You’re his cherry on top.”
I look at her small face, not resisting her as the pressure deepens, and I’m sure the skin has torn. Yes. I won’t pull away. Not ever.
Banks was my father’s daughter, but she was mine and had been from the day she came to live here.
A reason I didn’t let any other girl in my room and forced her to wear my old clothes, bind her body, and would never tell my friends my sister was the only woman who would ever sleep in my bed. I knew I was fucked up. I just didn’t care. As long as I was happy, I didn’t explain myself to anyone.
No, the problem was me. She was mine. She was the only person who knew everything, but we were growing up, and I knew she was going to leave me eventually.
“To make you smile.” I frowned. To make me . . . Jesus, fuck. I rolled my eyes. But just like that, I almost gave in. He had a gift for smoothing out my edges and really fucking quick, too. “Ha ha. I can hear you smiling.” I could hear his amusement. The laughter always present in his voice. “You can hear me smiling, huh?” He was the only one—the only one—who didn’t walk on eggshells around me, and I damn near killed him for it a few times, but now I barely did anything without him. “I told you,” he pointed out. “We’re connected. It’s spiritual and shit.” I let out a little grin he couldn’t
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While she dressed sexier now, she was still shy. And I loved that. Confidence annoyed me. I didn’t like being hunted.
“Bite me.” Winter yanked her foot away and felt for the counter next to me. I wasn’t sure how she knew it was there, but she found it and then knelt down to tie her boot, her long, layered blond hair hanging around her.
is she blind?
Six years ago, his little girl and I changed each other, and while I couldn’t change her back, I could certainly give her some new memories of me. Now, that . . . I could do. It was settled, then.
Or he thought he failed at drilling them into me, anyway. People assumed I behaved strictly on impulse, when actually, it required quite a bit of strategy to be this fucked up.
At Winter. They had the same hair, although Winter’s was a shade lighter, and the same color eyes, except Rika’s were darker. Winter had this ring of darker blue around the outside of her pupils that made them . . . piercing. I was glad she couldn’t use them, because if she could look at me with those eyes . .
Yeah, Winter and Rika were both so similar, and not just in their looks. They were both defiant. Both liked a little danger. And both fought back. “And knowing that the path to success changes based on the game pieces I choose to use,” I continued. “And people are my favorite pieces, Rika.”
And as much as I thought I’d be turned on by the reality of what Rika had enjoyed in that room, it actually pissed me off. I wasn’t quite sure why, either. Maybe because I didn’t get my turn and I felt left out of the fun. Or maybe, even though I knew her enough to know she didn’t let anything happen to her that she didn’t want, a small part of me still felt like she’d been . . . I don’t know . . . Used.
And she was good at it. No one had ever indulged me before. Except Winter. Not one of my friends had the patience or the interest. I liked Rika. Michael had barely tapped into everything she was capable of.
dumb shit I married might make some good-looking kids, but she wouldn’t be half as enjoyable as owning that little girl would be. Yeah, Ari’s little sister was nothing like her. Winter would put up a fight. She’d give me hell, and not only was I getting my revenge on her for what she did to me years ago, but I was going to have it all now. The head of the table, domain over my own house, and my favorite fucking toy.
“You know what I mean,” she continued. “Don’t hurt her.” You mean other than taking everything Winter owned and putting her in a perpetual state of dependence on me? Or hurt her as in . . . Yeah, that was what you meant, wasn’t it? Don’t hurt her.
And let her. The more she put herself in my path, the more it would bring everyone else into play. Michael, Kai, Banks . . . Will. Balling my fists, I walked over to the bar, poured two fingers of vodka, and downed it in one gulp, immediately pouring another. Will. And Winter. Will and Winter.
But something caught her eye, and she stopped, lifting a small black box off the sofa table and inspecting the contents. My heart thudded a beat as I recognized what she was holding. I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw ached, and then I was up, dropping my cigarette into the ashtray and charging toward her. Ripping the box out of her hands, I slammed it closed, hearing the contents jingle inside as I tossed it on the sofa table again, and then grabbed her collar, backing her up into the wall.
what's in the box damon
I ejected the magazine from the Glock and checked the chamber to make sure a bullet wasn’t loaded and then held the gun and clip out for her to take. Her eyebrows shot up. “It’s untraceable,” I said.
for what
“Learn to use it.” “Why do I need this?” she asked, still holding the handgun like she was debating whether or not to drop it and run. “Because my father is smarter than we are. He’ll be onto us eventually. You might need it.” “So if your dad comes after me, you’re giving me a gun to kill him?” she asked, sounding sarcastic. “So he doesn’t kill me instead?” I let out a sigh. “Fuck, you’re dumb,” I said. “Like he’d come after you himself. That’s for the guys he’ll send. If anyone kills him, it’ll be me. Now, get out.” I jerked my chin toward the door, pulling another cigarette out of the pack.
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I opened it, nudging the razor blade back inside and hesitating as I surveyed the rest of the items. An assortment of desserts that had been constant and reliable during a time when I was a kid, and they were the only things I could trust. A paper clip, sewing needle, pushpin, pocketknife, scissors, tiger tooth, small animal antler, and bird skull for the sharp nostril edges. Most of them were sterilized, having not been used in a long time, but my gaze dropped to the lighter, and I absently rubbed my thumb over my index finger, feeling the raised skin from the old burn.
I’d done so much more than what I went to prison for—and far worse. Winter had no clue how bad this could get.
“When I think about how I must look,” I told her, “I still see the kid I last looked at in the mirror when I was eight.” “So you can think in . . . pictures?” I blinked. Pictures? She must’ve seen a look on my face, because she rushed to apologize. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. That was a dumb question, right?” I shook my head. “No, I . . . I’m just used to being around people who understand, I guess. I’ll have to get used to questions.” And then I added, “And making people feel comfortable enough to ask. It’s fine.” I let out a small laugh and licked my lips. “And yes, to answer your question. My
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He was quiet for a minute, and I guessed he was probably checking out my playlist. The oldies I listened to when I needed something fun, lighthearted, and peppy to get me out of a mood. The same mood he’d put me in this morning. The earbud dropped in my lap, and his voice was low but sure. “It won’t be like that with us.” Like that? Like what? And then I realized what song had been playing. “Then He Kissed Me” by the Crystals.
After a few seconds, he cleared his throat. “I was Winter’s first kiss, ladies,” he told everyone, though we had another guy at our table. “I was eleven. She was eight.” I felt him nudge closer, and his voice dropped a hair. “I wonder how many guys have kissed you since. But then, I guess I don’t really care, because I was first, and that’s all that matters.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it.” The edge back in his voice spread chills up my arms, and every inch of my skin felt electrified. I could feel his eyes on my face, watching me, and there was a mixture of dread and anger inside me, but also anticipation. Excitement. While he hurt me years ago, and there was no doubt he was now ten times the asshole I knew back then, a small part of me liked that he didn’t tread softly around me. He didn’t coddle me. He didn’t ignore me.
Maybe that’s why Damon treated me like I wasn’t made of glass. Maybe he knew. I thought back to the boy in the fountain, bloody, with a silent tear streaming down his face, because something—or many things—happened to him that he didn’t want to talk about, and now he was nearly a man who would never cry again and only made other people bleed. I hated him, and I would never forgive him, but maybe we had that one thing in common. We had to change to survive.
I wanted to see if you’d dance for me. I slowed in my steps, hearing his voice in my head. But then I picked up the pace again and slid into a closed position, doing several échappés in a row as I moved my arms. You’ll hate me. I’ll love you. We have to stop. Make me stop. I can’t. I won’t.
“So pretty,” he whispered over my mouth. I could taste the smoke on his breath. Smoke . .
I gestured to where I’d heard my sister chatting. “I know why she’d do this, but you’re supposed to protect me,” I told my mom. “He raped me!” “He didn’t rape you,” my sister snapped back, pushing out of her chair. “We all saw the video. The whole world saw the video! You wanted him. You were in love with him.” I shook my head. “Not him.” I had never been in love with him. Not with Damon.
All they saw in that video was me willingly kissing him. Touching him. Holding him. In their eyes, I’d wanted it, and he was “the man.” But they didn’t know what was really going on in that video. They didn’t know what he’d done to me to get what he wanted from me.
what does that mean
“You need a proper man,” Damon taunted, his voice getting slowly closer. “Someone who walks upright and can run a tight ship. Someone who’s a team player in Thunder Bay. Someone who can make you listen. And someone”—his tone turned darker as he stopped right in front of me—“who’s not going to question too hard when not all of his children look like him.”
“I will,” I told him. “And no matter what you do, I will never obey you.” “Please don’t,” he shot back, dropping the lighter on the table and blowing out smoke. “I have Arion for that.”
When I liked the games he played with me. Before I realized I was the toy. The terror and the dread. But the exhilaration and the safety I felt in his arms. How I’d never hated anyone as much as I hated him, but how I loved what I felt with him more than I loved anything I felt with anyone else, either. I was so stupid.
Yeah, there was an accident when we were kids, and Ashby had clearly poisoned his daughter over the years to warp her memory of exactly how that all went down, but I hadn’t meant to hurt her. It was a fucking fluke, and kids have accidents.
Will was my best friend, and what was mine was mine. He knew that.
make her my first girlfriend if she didn’t accept everything I was about. I wasn’t going to change.
Winter. She was home, after all. “What? Now?” Arion whined. “Have Mom help you when she gets back.” Get the fuck out of the pool and get her what she wants. “I don’t know why you want it.” Arion took my beer again. “It’s not even Halloween yet, and you can’t see the damn thing anyway. What’s the point?” Bitch.
“It has music,” Winter said, her tone growing defensive. “I like it, so what do you care?” But Arion didn’t answer, and after a moment, her gaze dropped back down to me. Winter must’ve walked off. Now that I knew she was home, any lukewarm interest I was able to muster for Arion had all but disappeared. It has music. I like it. I didn’t know if I felt responsible for the fact that she now only had four senses with which to experience the world, but it was a strange feeling to want to protect someone from others when I knew I’d be worse for her health than anyone else.
what did he do?
“You teach your daughter to hide in everyone else’s world,” I shot back, “and I’ll teach mine everyone else exists in hers. Go fuck yourself, and leave the kid alone.” I wasn’t sure where the hell I was coming from, because if Banks walked out of our room like that, I’d lose my shit. But with Winter . . . Nothing she did would be wrong. It was their fault for looking.
It was annoying, the loss of equilibrium when I closed my eyes, but I was sure it was far scarier than I realized. I would never know what it was like to be her, because I could always open my eyes.
She scared easily. Oh, good.
“Are you . . . are you going to hurt me?” I asked. “I don’t know.” He doesn’t know? “Do you want to?” I pressed. “Kind of.” His masked voice was like a breeze through the trees. “Why?” “Because I’m sick,” he answered. What? No one was that self-aware. Especially psychopaths.
