“They love me.” I whisper into the silence between us. “So does Oliver.”
“Ah, yes. The Teacher.” He grins and the ice of his eyes shines bright in the dark room. “But is he what he says he is?”
“Yes, Brody. He is.”
“We’ll see.” He shrugs and nods back towards the bed. “You should sleep. Tomorrow is a new day.”
“I don’t want to sleep with you in here.” I tell him, standing firm in my place by the door.
“You either sleep with me in here or in you.” He drops the key back inside of his sweater. “Choose.”
I know he means what he says, so I slowly get back into bed and lay there looking at the dark ceiling. Sleep is impossible, especially after the nightmare both in my subconscious and currently sitting in this room. I turn one way and then after a few minutes I turn to my other side. I can still smell what he did to me on the sheets and I cover my mouth to stifle the sounds of my despair.
“Can’t sleep?” His taunting voice fills the room. “I’ll tell you a story.”
I want to tell him to shut up and leave the room, but I know it’ll do nothing. I lay still and wait for him to continue.
“That night, five years ago, on this very property, you know the one.” Of course I do. The Landry boys have a penchant for raping girls. “I chased after the girl who owned my heart, only to learn she wasn’t who she said she was. I still couldn’t believe it, even when she turned her back and cast me into the frigid cold.”
I close my eyes to brace myself for the onslaught of his words. If I’m being honest with myself, I want to hear them and what he has to say for his actions over the years.
“After your mother’s funeral, when you wouldn’t spare me a glance, I grieved alone. I grieved for the woman who was more my mother than my own and for her daughter who seemingly died with her.” He takes a deep breath, sounding as if his own words are boring the fuck out of him.
“My first real memory of Sara Richard was when I was four years old. I came to your house looking for you when she noticed the fingerprint bruises on my arms. She took me inside the house and made me hot chocolate, then she began to tell me a story. I can’t really remember it in detail, but some of it has stuck with me to this very day. She said that every time a child was conceived was like a bolt of lightning sent straight from God. She said parents knew when their baby was coming because they could hear the thunder first and that maybe mine weren’t paying attention. Because there’s no stopping the lightning if you don’t hear the thunder.”
I know this story well, it was one she told me to make me feel special and the sounds of her words make the grief I thought long gone, surge back up.
“You see, it was then I realized my parents didn’t want me and your mother told me she would be there for me whenever I needed it. That night, I went home and threw a tantrum. I kicked over a family heirloom-some dusty old vase-and my mother lost it. After my nanny tucked me into bed, she came into my room and covered my face with a pillow. I will never know what made her change her mind at the last minute. Bet you wish she didn’t, huh?”
I don’t answer him because I don’t know the answer. The most obvious would be yes, considering what he’s done to me, but it’s not. It’s not a no either, though.
“Tell me Kailey,” he stands from the chair and makes his way over to the bed. “What made you run from me that night?”
His hands press into the plush mattress and his devastatingly gorgeous face hovers over mine. His dark hair falls forward onto his brow and his plush lips purse with anger. Those eyes, an ice blue so cold, they freeze my heart in my chest.
“You were with Georgina.” I whisper.
“So?” He leans closer. “You saw us together before.”
“Not like that, not in bed, and not with your clothes off.”
“Like this?” He rips his sweater over his head like it’s on fire and I watch the key to my freedom swing against his chest. His hard, muscled chest with a dusting of hair down the center.
He leans back down, the key swinging in front of my face, taunting me with its metal gleam.
“She was naked too though, wasn’t she?” His voice is raspy and deep.
I swallow hard and his eyes zero in on the movement. I’ve just shown the wolf how scared I really am and I watch as his large white teeth flash with pleasure.
He yanks the blanket off my body and I scream as the cool air hits my skin. His chuckle sends a chill through my body and I realize Brody likes his women scared, just like Justin. His hand lands on my thigh and I try to scramble up the headboard into a sitting position.
“Brody.” I try to get out from under his grip. “No.”
His deep chuckle fills my stomach with burning acid and I try once more to pull away.
“You really think you have a choice? Even after earlier?”
“Brody…” I don’t get to finish my sentence as the grip on my thigh intensifies and he drags me back down the bed.
He’s on top of me and his hand locks my sore wrists above my head.
“Tell me how much you hated what I did to you.” He growls into my face, his spit landing on my cheek.
“Which time?” I look him in the eye with courage I don’t really feel.
The smile he flashes me could melt any girl’s heart but it’s hard to feel similarly when he has me locked under him. His other hand snakes between us and he lifts his shirt up my thighs then over my stomach. I have no panties on and my back still has his crusted cum from earlier. His fingers find my center and I whimper as pain blooms brighter at his touch.
“The last time I was in here-” His two fingers push inside me and the burning sensation turns into something close to stabbing needles.
“Stop.” I try to pull myself away from him but his grip on me is firm. I feel my tears fall from the corners of my eyes and slide down my temples into my hair.
“-You said I was exactly like my brother. Tell me what he did to you, in detail.” He demands as he thrusts his fingers back inside me.
“Not until you stop.”
“I wasn’t giving you a choice.” He adds another finger and I cry out from the stretching of my sore opening. “How did he do it? How did he lure you away?”
His fingers pull out of me and I sob at the relief. “He saw I was upset and asked me if I wanted to talk.”
His hand, the one that was just inside of me, clamps down on top of my mound and he squeezes to the point of pain.
“You followed my brother to talk?” He looks livid, incredulously livid. “Kails, start telling the fucking truth.”
His hand doesn’t let up and I cry out as the pain intensifies.
“I am!” I scream as I look up at the ceiling. “I ran out of the pool house, away from you, and away from all those eyes watching me with pity. I found them and it was the perfect escape from you, too.”
“Them?” His fingers loosen but I can feel their imprint still as my flesh throbs from the assault.