“Yeah, well it’s too late for that.”
I push the envelope into her hand, forcing her to accept it; before walking to my bike. I glance back at the house; my younger brother, Donovan, has joined our mom on the front porch and he nods at me. I know I’ll see him soon; he loves coming to hang out at the clubhouse, but I’m not sure when I’ll see my mom again.
Fight or fuck? Fight or fuck?
Usually either would help, but tonight I don’t know what I need. Half of me wants to head to the Pit to break some poor fucker’s bones; the other half just wants to get my dick wet and then sleep it off. A girl I haven’t seen before walks towards me; she’s alright looking, must be one of the new girls. Fucking it is…
“Hi, I’m Imogen.” As if I give a shit what her name is. “Take me upstairs?”
I nod and make my way towards the staircase; she grabs my hand, and I let her, wanting this to be easy. She follows along to my room, the one that’s been my permanent residence for the last couple of years; not that you’d know it, there’s nothing personal here at all, but then again, what would I have?
“I’ve been waiting to have some alone time with you,” she says, “you’re so hot; I’ve wanted you since the first moment I saw you.”
Considering that I don’t even recognize her, I have no idea when she first saw me. I guess it doesn’t matter; she’s here now and can hopefully help me forget about this shit stain of a day. She lifts onto her tiptoes, using her hands on my chest to balance, before leaning in to kiss me.
I grip her wrists firmly. “No.”
“No?”
“No kissing.”
“Ever?” she asks, and I shake my head. “Okay, what do you want then?”
“Turn around.”
She does as I ask and bends over the end of the bed, looking back over her shoulder at me seductively. Not wanting to look at her face, I take a hold of her hair and shove her face-down into the mattress. Using my hand, I get her wet enough so that it won’t be uncomfortable for her, before rolling on a condom and pushing into her. She moans as though it’s the best fucking thing she’s ever felt, but I know she’s just putting on a show.
I fuck her hard and fast, needing to get lost in the sensation to distract myself; and as I get close, I play with her clit until she clenches around me. Honestly, I couldn’t give a shit if she comes or not, but it will feel better for me if she does. She pulses around me, gripping my cock, and I finish with a groan.
“That was amaz—”
“Get out,” I say.
“What?” she asks.
“Look, I have no interest in you except for a fuck. We fucked, so get out.”
She pulls up her underwear and lowers her skirt, before running from the room. I think there were tears in her eyes, but she needs to learn that this is what she’ll get from me if she’s going to be sticking around. If she wants aftercare and cuddles, she can go to one of the other guys, it’s not something I’ll give her.
I strip down and step into my shower, letting the hot water wash over me. My father’s words run through my mind again; but what’s done is done, I can’t do anything to change it now. I’ll deal with the consequences when they come to shoot me in the foot. The most important thing for now is that my mom and Donovan will be safe, I did the right thing… I hope.
Prologue 2
Elizabeth
Cansilenceecho?There’sno sound but I swear the house echoes. The table I usually drop my keys on is gone; sold at auction to the highest bidder along with the rest of the furniture. It’s amazing how big a space looks when it’s empty, especially after you’re used to seeing it full. I’ve kept some photographs in an album, and my personal belongings: laptop, phone, clothes, and my most prized possessions, my books. But that’s all I have left to show for myself.
I’ve gone from being part of a wealthy family, living in Radbury Heights—the most exclusive district in Tynerston—to being eighteen years old with nowhere to live; all of my belongings fitting into a backpack, a suitcase, and a couple of boxes. I don’t even have mugs or glassware to offer the lawyer a hot drink or water.
The sound of tires on gravel alerts me to a car pulling onto the drive, a door opens and closes, followed by the thud of what are likely designer shoes on the path. He rings the doorbell to be polite, but technically this isn’t my house anymore, he probably has more right to be here than I do.
“Beth.” He greets me with a bright smile, but quickly softens it, probably realizing how inappropriate it is to be grinning at me at a time like this.
I open the door wider so he can step in. “Mr. Moore.”
He pauses to look at my backpack and boxes on the floor.
“Have you found somewhere to live?”
