Page 6 of Tainted Love
I scowl. “Not likely.”
He narrows his eyes. “You realise you’re on private property right now?”
“Hunter,” the Jas-look-a-like says, the frustration clear in her tone as she steps around him. “Stop being so rude.” Her amber eyes bore into mine, and I can’t help but notice the small speckles of gold around the irises. “You must be Elena’s…” Her voice trails off and she flushes, clearly embarrassed that she was about to call me a kid. I’d say I’m older than her, not by much, but still older.
“Yeah,” I grunt out. “We are.”
Hunter scowls and slips his arm protectively over the brunette’s shoulders. I can’t stop the smirk which tugs at my lips when she flinches from his touch. It’s clear she recognises me, and his attempt to stake ownership is juvenile and unnecessary.
The last thing on my mind right now is how wet her panties are getting the more her gaze travels over my body. Or maybe it’s the only thing on my mind I realise when my dick twitches in appreciation of her.Huh.Looks like he’s interested in my stepsister.
I wasn’t expecting this guy’s daughter to be so close to my age. It makes me wonder how old her father is, since Mum is only thirty-seven. Despite the things she’s been through, she’s an extremely attractive woman for her age, and it grinds my gears to think she’s married some decrepit, old rich dude to gain a sense of security.
The brunette blinks, as if I’m an apparition in a sandy desert about to disappear. “You’re?—”
“Eli! You’re home.” Mum hurries in from somewhere inthe house and wraps me in her arms. I squeeze her close, breathing in her familiar scent. Despite my wariness at the current situation, she’s my mum and I love her.
“Hey, mum,” I murmur quietly so only she can hear. “I missed you.”
She smiles, her eyes crinkling in the corners as she pulls away from me. “I thought I heard voices. I see you’ve met your stepsister, Bea.”
Beaflushes again, and my cock jumps to attention. Fuck, if that pink hue doesn’t look so fucking hot against her olive complexion. If only I don’t hate everything about how she has come into my life.
Being in this house brings back all the feelings I repressed from six years ago. I scratch at the ink covering my arms, and blink away the black vortex which swirls around me. If it weren’t for another spoiled rich bitch, Jas would still be here. My throat tightens and I clear it awkwardly. Fuck. I thought I had locked it all down, but I wasn’t expecting to come home from the festival tour and be living in my ultimate nightmare.
Mum turns, taking the attention away from me briefly, and smiles at the preppy douchebag. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure. I’m Elena, Bea’s stepmother, and you are?”
Fuckface runs his appraising eye over her, and it takes everything in me not to step forward and ram my fist into his pretty boy face. “Hunter Cromwell,” he says finally, “Beatrice’s boyfriend.”
I can’t control the smirk that tugs at my lips.Beatrice?Isn’t she some fucking duchess in the Royal family or some shit. Of course, this rich chick is named after royalty.
Bea flinches again, glancing at me when he says those two words. It seems like everything is far from perfect in their little relationship. Interesting, though I don’t know why she’slooking at me. I want nothing to do with this rich bitch version of Jas. If only my dick would get the memo.
“I’m Athena,” my little sister blurts out, reminding us she’s here. “But you can call me Attie. I love your dress, green’s my favourite colour.”
Bea’s eyes soften slightly as she smiles down at my sister. “Nice to meet you, Attie. That’s so sweet of you, green’s my favourite colour, too.”
Attie beams up at her, and it reminds me again how thankful I am she was too young to remember any of the darkness surrounding her early childhood. Mum’s best friend took Attie in while Mum sought help, but two traumatised teenagers were too much for her, and Oli and I had ended up in foster care for two years. That’s where I met Jas.
Heavy footsteps on the staircase have me looking up to find a man descending, who must be Bea’s father. He’s younger than I expected. He runs his hand through his thick head of dark hair and grins as he takes us all in.
“Elias, I presume,” he says as he reaches the bottom, stepping forward to offer me his hand. “Darren Kirkland.”
I stare at it until Attie elbows me in the stomach. I scowl down at her as I shake his hand.
“Your mum tells me you’re quite the musician,” he says, seeming unperturbed by my silence. “You know I used to be able to shred back in the day.” He mimes playing an air guitar, and Mum laughs.
Bea groans, but when my gaze moves to her she ducks her head. “I need to unpack. Excuse me.” She spins and takes off up the stairs, her douchebag lapdog following at her heels.
“Right,” Mum says. “Let’s move out of the entryway, hmm? Eli, would you like me to give you a tour of the house?”
“Just my bedroom,” I grunt out, feeling overwhelmed and wanting space.
“Of course. I’m sure you must be exhausted after that big drive today.”
“Something like that.”
“We can catch up later,” Darren offers. “Chat music and what not?”
