Page 41 of Wicked Deceit
"I was helping him study," I say, lying through my damn teeth. "With finals next week, he needed a little help. He was embarrassed to ask, but I offered." Once again, Carter's hand grips my wrist so tight, that I swear the bones are breaking from the force of his warning.
"So fucking embarrassed," he growls, clenching his teeth more. How are they still hanging in there and not falling out? I need to have a serious talk to him about his aggression and anger issues.
Piper tilts her head and nods. "Well, that's so sweet of you, Kaycee. I know you're so smart and to help my dumb, dumb brother! You must be working miracles."
"That's fucking it, we're out. Happy fucking Thanksgiving!" Carter snarls, practically throwing me out of the house and dragging me toward the car.
My feet drag across the driveway as my short stubby legs try to keep up with his long strides. God, why does he have to have such long ass legs, and I’m stuck with these short, non-bendy things that can’t keep up with him. Keeping up with these tall bastards and their fast walking is almost impossible. Especially when his fingers tighten around my arm, and he speeds up. Great. This is fantastic.. I’d inform him of this little difficulty I’m going through, if he wasn’t so damn angry from our interaction with crazy Piper. He’s likely to lash out and say mean things if I open my mouth. So, like a good girl, I keep my damn lips sealed and carry on across the driveway.
Eyes burn into my damn skull when he forces me into the passenger's seat and violently slams the door shut on my scrunched up face. He really needs to sort out his anger. As he rounds the front of his SUV, I peek out the blacked-out window to find Piper staring at me from the large picture window of the house. Her grin stays in place even when Carter jumps in the car and starts it with a roar.
"I'm buying you a fucking gag, and I'm sticking it down your throat. When I say don't fucking say anything stupid, I fucking mean it!" Carter growls, throwing the car into drive, and races down the driveway and onto the road at breakneck speeds.
Anxiety prickles at the back of my neck when he speeds down the road. The only sounds floating through the car are the changing gears and my frantic, uneven breaths. One. Two. Three. Four. I count to myself, leaning back in the leather seat, trying to find comfort in the things around me. Panic takes hold, squeezing my chest tight. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. My lips pop open when he takes a curve too quickly, and I slide in my seat.
I yelp, tightening my seatbelt. "No need to be so rude," I say, crossing my arms over my chest. I grunt when my cast digs in through my shirt. I can't wait to get this stupid thing off.
"I swear to fucking Christ, I'm going to kill that fucking woman with my bare hands," he snarls, slamming his hand into the steering wheel. "But first," he shouts, whipping the car into an almost vacant parking lot, and slams the brakes. The SUV skids in the rock parking lot, but finally comes to a stop.
I want to ask him what the Hell he thinks he's doing by going so fast, but I get distracted by the nondescript white building with cracking paint and a fucking XXX painted on the wall.
"What is this place?" I ask with wide eyes.
"Here's what's going to fucking happen," Carter says, evening his voice out. Every ounce of anger dissipates when he heaves a calming breath. "Since I can't fuck you into submission, I'm going to buy something that can." Ah, so that's his issue. He needs to be laid. Wait, what?
My cheeks heat, and my eyes widen. "What?" I gasp when he points a finger at me.
"My dick fucking hurts every time I get hard, and I can't fuck you yet. So, I'm going to walk into the shady as fuck sex shop and buy something. And you're going to be a good fucking girl and shut your mouth. In fact, maybe I'll buy a fucking gag while I'm in there, too." He rubs his chin, letting his eyes linger on the building, and then that evil smile he loves to wear crosses his lips.
I want to jerk back when he takes my jaw in his hand and squeezes it until I'm looking into his unhinged eyes. And he calls Piper the psycho. They may not be family, but I think it's in the water in that house. He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip.
"Will you be a good fucking girl?" He asks, raising a brow. I try to nod, but he squeezes harder. It's never to hurt me, just to show me who is in charge. "Use your words," he growls, barely in control.
I narrow my eyes but attempt to nod. "Yeah," I mutter.
"Good fucking girl," he murmurs, leaning in until his lips brush against mine. "Now don't move from this spot or I'll fucking spank you." With his parting words, he jumps out of the SUV and beelines it into the shady as hell sex shop.
How the hell did he know about this place, and why is he bringing me here? What is he buying to torture me with now? Jesus, would he seriously get me a gag? I don't think I'd like that. Fuck. I nervously twiddle my thumbs together, watching the time tick by. I could have played a round of Angel Warrior with Seger by now, but instead, I'm stuck here in his warm Tahoe with my thumbs up my ass while he cruises the aisles of a sex shop, looking for God knows what. Something to fuck me with? I startle, thinking about the large dildos I've accidentally come across online. He wouldn't….would he?
After another ten minutes, Carter walks out of the store with determination all over his face and a solid black bag filled with things inside. My stomach flips when he gets into the SUV and turns to me.
"We're going back to my fucking apartment on campus to look over the disc I put in my father's computer. And then, this," he says, tapping the bag a few times but never opening it. "Will serve its purpose." I gulp when he turns on the car and heads toward campus. My heart hammers in my chest. “You better text your mommy and daddy and let them know you’ll be fucking indisposed for the next forty-eight hours.” A wicked grin lights up his face when I pull out my phone and do as he says. Whatever he has planned for me is either sexy or evil. Maybe both?
Ilickmylips,looking back at Kaycee on my bed. My heart fucking flutters—flutters—at the sight of her legs swishing in the air. She smiles down at her phone, flipping through FlashGram without a care in the world.
What the fuck is she doing to me?
I grunt, turning back to my computer. Crowe’s computer was fucking cut and dry with jack shit on it. But this? My father’s computer is riddled with fucking codes, and my disc is having a hell of a time cutting through. It will, but it’s straining under pressure. Fucking prototypes. This is my failing ear communication device all over again. The moment we needed it at Crowe’s AKA Lucas Van Buren's house to investigate, it failed and left my fucking girl stranded at arm’s length from a monster. My computer makes loud whirring noises like it’s about to fucking die on me.
Shit.
I run my hand through my hair, looking back at the object of my fucking downfall. She’s shattered every fucking wall around me, and she does it with the tilt of her innocent fucking head and a beautiful smile—a smile that could melt the devil’s resolve. Hell, maybe it has because my resolve is at fucking zero with her. She could ask me anything, and I’d tell her to fuck off. But she’d persist, and I’d cave to her will. Like I always fucking do. It’s like she’s a damn magical center, and I’m her piece forced to do whatever she says. I lift a brow. Is my bitch ass vixen a witch in disguise? That’d explain a whole hell of a lot. I shake my head at the weird fucking thoughts.
I blow out a breath, trying to think of anything but her. But my brain is in a constant loop of fucking worry about her safety. The moment my dick touched her, he couldn’t get enough. Like a fucking pussy addict for the most infuriating woman on the planet. She’s my drug of choice, running through my veins twenty-four-seven, and I never want to leave this damn high. Deep in my gut, I know the other shoe is about to drop at any given time. It could be tomorrow or the next fucking day, but it’s going to happen, and it’s going to involve her.
I growl, looking down at the offending appendage standing tall inside my jeans and straining against the constricting fabric. Go the fuck down, you dick! We can’t do anything about it because we just had to show fucking West how painless a piercing would be. Cocky fucking dickbag, mother fucker. This hurts worse than the needle puncturing my cock for a tattoo. This hurts worse than when Kaycee kneed me in the damn balls. Fuck me. Fuck. Pain shoots up my abdomen. I curl my fists, getting harder at the thought of her defiance. Our relationship is a push and pull. She says stupid shit to push my buttons, and I push back with a snarl, and it always ends with my tongue in her mouth and my dick in her pussy. Shit. Sometimes, I want to tame her and put her in a cage where only I can see her. But that’s the thing about my Vixen. You can’t tame her or tell her what to fucking do. She doesn’t follow commands like a good fucking girl.
Don’t steal from murderers—check, she’s done that. Don’t steal from the psycho asshole, me—check, and she’s done that, too. She’s done everything to get herself killed since coming here, and I’m not done protecting her yet. Over my dead body, will anyone harm the hair on her head. They’ll meet the end of my fucking fist to their throat if they do. And that’s a promise.
