Page 7 of The Devastation You Reap
From that moment on, Brett seemed to forget that he actually had two other boys. Every day after that one, Shane and I lived in the shadows as he pushed Luca harder and harder to be the best.
I got it, Luca was his little prodigy, but that didn't mean that Shane and I weren’t—aren’t—kick-ass players who deserved the recognition and praise from him too. Hell, to this day, I'm Luca's right-hand man, his wide receiver, his fucking offense. Part of our success has been how well we can work together, our silent communication, our ability to know what the other is thinking. Yet I was cast aside in favor of him.
But I know that being singled out as Brett's favorite hasn't been easy for Luca. Just like being the forgotten one hasn't been easy for me. At least I've lived most of my life without our father breathing down my neck.
Movement catches my eye and when I look up, I find Luca standing in the living room window watching me, his face tight with concern.
He probably has every right to be worried, but I can't help feeling that it's too little too late. His concern isn't going to help me now.
I crack my knuckles before putting my car into drive and flooring the gas pedal.
There's only one thing that will help me now, getting to cause the pain I've been craving for years.
I've got two of those who wronged me in touching distance, all I need is the third and I can deliver the same kind of devastation on their lives that they did on mine.
* * *
The house is in silence when I pull up, but all their cars are here so I have no doubt that the people I need are inside.
"Yeah, all-fucking-right," a deep voice booms from inside after I knocked solidly for a good five minutes. "What the fu— oh it's you," Devin says when he pulls the front door open as he takes a good look at me with eyes barely open.
"Morning."
"Fuck off," he grunts, running his hand through his unruly hair.
"Who is it, baby?" a fake blonde asks as she runs down the stairs.
Devin straightens a little.
"What the fuck's it got to do with you?" he barks, causing her chin to drop. "You might have choked on my cock last night, sweetheart, but I'm not your fucking baby. Get out." He pulls the door back open and gestures for her to walk through it, but to her irritation.
"You can't be serious." She stands with her hands on her hips, her collagen-filled lips twisted in frustration.
"Deadly,baby.You can give me my shirt back too." His eyes drop to what I assume is the only thing she's wearing.
"But I'm not—"
"Shirt," he demands, holding his hand out.
She flicks a glance over her shoulder at me, but she's barking up the wrong tree if she thinks I'm gonna stand up for her.
She's Devin's problem and he's more than welcome to her.
"And if you're a good girl, I might let you go and get your shit."
She huffs and with very little concern, peels his shirt up her body, leaving her standing there as naked as the day she was born.
Devin whistles in appreciation.
"What do you think, bro?"
Devin glances at me with a wicked glint in his eye.
"Uh…"
"I'm sure she'd be up for a bit of fun if you are. Suck good cock, don't you, baby?"
I'm too enthralled watching the two of them to respond to his question. He steps up to her, takes her tits in his hands and slams his lips down on hers.
