“Or don’t,” he murmurs, his breath feathering over my lips.
And then he kisses me.
TWO
KANE
Ask me to kill someone in cold blood and I’ll do it without hesitation, but force me to have sex with someone and I feel dirty for days afterward.
It was somewhat easy to stomach at first. A few shots and a pill or two, and we were ready to go. Then I just shoved Beverly’s face into the loveseat and thought of someone else. But since Jessica, something has shifted.
I felt sick to my stomach the entire time Beverly’s behind bounced against my groin, her dyed burgundy hair spilling between my fingers, stiff with hairspray and all wrong to the touch. When we shifted position so she was on top, her fake tits looked like soccer balls that barely moved, despite how hard I fucked up into her ass. The only consolation was seeing my brother rage fuck her mouth. He was lethal as he slammed his cock down her throat, ruining her without a flicker of emotion in his dead eyes. But then the senator wanted to watch us suck my cum from her rim while his wife sucked his dick.
I almost killed him there and then, but it would have gotten me a bullet to the head.
In the days that followed, Cash spent two days on a drug binge, with three women in his bed. Me? I trashed my room to smithereens. Yes, we handle our anger like night and day. I don’t want to touch another woman, but he buries his cock in any willing hole he can find. It’s his way of reclaiming power, even if that might seem odd to some.
For those two days, he gets to decide who he sleeps with and when. Sex itself is one thing. That I can handle. Being my father’s puppet is what kills me. He pulls my strings and I perform for his audience, smiling on cue while the knots cut deeper into my wrists. The only woman I want is Jessica, but I can’t even bring myself to think about her. It feels wrong after what I’ve done.
It’s not like I had a choice. I know. But I feel disgusting, and the filth won’t wash away. I’ve scrubbed myself raw.
I don’t want Jessica to smell the sickening scent of lilies on my skin. She’s too good for me, and not even the unmatchable wealth I’m about to inherit makes me worthy of her.
A sharp sound snaps me out of my thoughts. Cash clicks his fingers in front of my face. “Are you with us, princess?”
I smack his hand away, and he snickers, amused by my scowl. We’re hanging out at the country club tonight for another one of our parents’ lavish fundraisers. It’s a farce sitting around this circular table for hours on end, eating pretentious food, while plastic wives, who’ve never paid for a single thing, pretend it’s for a good cause. Everyone knows it’s just a fancier version of their weekly lunch gatherings, where they meet up with other privileged wives for wine and gossip at the town’s most prestigious rooftop cafe.
They don’t care about the homeless people living under the old bridge that separates the Falls and the Heights. They just care about showing off their money.
“Are you going to eat that?” Devlin, Maverick’s older cousin, asks with a mouthful of prawns, pointing to my plate. He’s just returned from Europe after interning at a French law firm. I shake my head, and he helps himself, scooping the prawns onto his own plate.
Cash is back to being his joking self. The smile on his face has been permanent since he came out of his room this morning. It’s as fake as the tits in this place, but nobody notices because he’s a natural at hiding behind a mask.
Aren’t we all?
My gaze drifts to the circular table beside ours. Mom is eating her soup while our father discusses business with the other men around the table.
She’s the only woman here tonight in a long-sleeved dress. Dr. Hartley has been by twice this week. I itch to ask him questions, but he takes his confidentiality seriously, which I respect, even when it hurts me to see Mom slip through the house like a living ghost.
Dad either doesn’t care or prefers her that way. Quiet, sad, and easy to manipulate.
The other day, I was walking past his office when my father’s deep grunts stopped me dead in my tracks. He was fucking Mom on his desk. The door was open, and she stared right at me over his shoulder, but she didn’t see me. Her eyes were vacant. She’d checked out, a limp ragdoll for him to rut into.
I drag a hand down my face to erase the memory. The sight of it haunts me even now.
“Jesus fuck,” I mutter, and my sister Lily frowns at me. She had the misfortune of sitting between Cash and me tonight, instead of across the table with her friends. Poor Maverick is squished in the middle of the girls. It’s kind of funny, honestly. He’s huge and brooding as hell.
Seated to his right, his sister Hazel leans across him to talk to Aurora and Robyn, the three giggling like schoolgirls. Maverick scowls.
Noah chuckles into his drink, then nudges me. “I think he secretly enjoys it.”
Devlin wipes his mouth and tosses the crumpled tissue onto his empty plate. “Think they’ll notice if we sneak out? I’d rather be anywhere but here.”
You and me both.I pull my phone out of my pocket. These fundraisers are always a damn drag, but our parents expect us to go. We don’t get to opt out.
“They’ll notice,” Noah mutters, checking his phone. “I’d rather be at a real party. This shit sucks.”
Cash nods at one of the waiters bending over to refill the senator’s glass. “Dibs on that fine ass.”
