Page 31 of Fear the Reapers
“It started before I could even remember. I know that seems far-fetched, but I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t terrified of her. When my father was still alive, she at least had the decency to hide it, but after he died and I was forced to live with her and her new family, the abuse only got worse.”
“She punished me every time I felt anything. Do you know how hard it is to control your emotions as a hormonal thirteen-year-old?” I laughed, bitterly. “Even when I became a shell of a person, it still wasn’t good enough to stop the hits and slaps. My mother hated everything about me. When she died...” I stumbled, trailing off. “When she died, I thought the abuse would stop, but Malcolm quickly filled those shoes only he hit harder and as you already know, my dear old step dad was how I ended up here.”
“The shit with Melanie was about so much more than a few cheap shots. It was about me finally sticking up for myself after years of being stepped on. I was trying to break my curse.” I sighed, blinking back the tears welling in my eyes. “And I’m so sorry you got pulled into it.”
Chapter 20
Tristan
Why the fuck was she still here? Giving me some sob story about her fucked up childhood, to what end? So we can trade horror stories about the shit we went through as kids? So we can be fucking best friends and share our deepest, darkest secrets?
Pulling the door open, I watched her body fall back at the sudden loss of support. I latched onto the collar of her sweatshirt, inches before her head crashed to the ground, and lifted her to her feet. She quickly wiped the tears from her glossy eyes and looked up at me expectantly. Like I was the one who was supposed to come in and make it all better.
“Go back to your fucking room.” I ordered, blocking her from moving any further.
“No.” She whispered, jutting her chin out with defiance.
She was as stubborn as a fucking mule. She wanted somebody to lick her wounds and make her feel better. But I would never be that man.
“What do you want, huh?” I asked, looming over her. “S… sympathy?” I hissed, inhaling her intoxicating scent. “I’m a beast in every sense of the word. I can’t give you gentle or s... sweet.”
“Maybe I don’t want you to be sweet.” She challenged, pushing her curvy little body against mine to get in my face. “Maybe I don’t want anything from you.”
The intimidation tactics she was trying were laughable considering her glossy eyes and shaky voice were dead giveaways of her fear.
“Bullshit.” I said, sniffing the air for emphasis. “I know a lie when I smell one. You want s… something. You’re just too afraid to fucking admit it.”
She trembled beneath me and fuck if that didn’t bring out my beast.
“I’m not afraid of you.” She stammered, her breath leaving her in a rush as loomed over her.
“Is this what you want?” I growled, hiking her sweatshirt up and grabbing a fistful of her pert ass.
Her body went stiff as I squeezed and slapped the soft flesh.
“What about this?” I asked, pushing her out into the hallway and pressing her body roughly against a wall.
She still didn’t give me an answer. Poor girl was shocked into silence.
I slipped my hand down her ass, hooking my finger under her white thong, and gently slid it to the side. I took my time, giving her plenty of opportunity to stop what was already starting. We were in the middle of a well-lit main hallway and at any moment one of my brothers could come through and stumble on what was happening, but she didn’t make a move to stop me. My fingers explored her folds, circling and gently nudging her sensitive little bud just enough to drive her body mad with lust.
“You’re so wet for me.” I hissed, biting hard into the nape of her neck.
A throaty moan escaped her lips and her back arched instinctively, pressing her delicious ass against my lap. My cock painfully throbbed in my pants. I could have her. Could strip that ugly fucking sweatshirt off her, lay her down on this floor, and feast on the fucking offering she was presenting me and she wouldn’t utter a single word to stop me.
But I didn’t want to take her like this. When I fucked Stevie, I wanted her to beg for it. I wanted her body to writhe against mine and to hear the need in her voice. To see the desperate plea in her eyes.
“Fuck,” I chuckled darkly, releasing her from my grip, “you weren’t kidding about your mommy issues, pet.”
She looked as if she wanted to cry. Maybe a different man would have felt bad about his words, but the world was cruel and it was about time she realized it. She couldn’t live in her fucking fairy tale land forever.
“Get out of here.” I said, nodding my head towards the door. “You had no business coming here to begin with.”
“I only came to say thank you. No one has ever done that for me before.”
“What,” I spat with a scowl, “hurt s… someone for you?”
She shook her head in response and turned away, stepping back into her room before she spoke again.
