She was safe with us. Even if she felt like she was intruding, every one of us wanted her there.
Even more so after we paid that sick fuck a visit.
It wasn’t in Tyler’s nature to want to hurt someone. Addison had a good way of bringing out a different part of him. She’s good at that, at bringing out facets of your personality that were dormant before.
Carter was the one who decided when and how we’d take care of the asshole who’d touched her the year before. He was forty years old with a fifteen-year-old girl under his care.
Carter decided all five of us would go together while Addison was at class. The drive was only three hours away. Too long to do it at night, because she’d have noticed. But we had plenty of time during the day.
Carter always has a plan, and I was supposed to go around the back. Which is right where the asshole was raking up leaves.
I’d never killed anyone with gardening equipment before. I still wonder what it would have been like had I used the sharp tines of the metal but the damn thing broke in half. The spike of the splintered wooden handle worked well enough.
He got out one scream, if you can even call it that. More of a pathetic cry.
My family may have sheltered her.
I killed for her.
Tyler should have told her back then, and I have a mind to tell her now. But I don’t break promises, not even to the dead.
So I keep that little bit of our history to myself.
The memory gives me the strength to look her in the eyes as I tell her, “You care a lot about what other people think. You’d be happier if you didn’t.”
“I’m not sure I would be,” she answers softly with the corners of her lips turned down.
Again, the alcohol saves the conversation. The shots hit the table one by one.
“I think you need a drink.”
I sure as fuck do. I didn’t have her come here for a heart to heart. This isn’t going how I’d planned. Wine and dine and fuck her is what I wanted. The first two I could take or leave, but the last I’ve needed for so long.
“I could use one … or six,” she jokes and pulls her hair over her shoulder, twirling the dark locks around her finger.
Addison’s entire demeanor changes as she watches the dark purple shot swirl in the glass.
“Thank you,” she says as she smiles up at the waiter.
“Cheers.” I tilt my shot toward her in jest and down it before she can say otherwise. No salutes to the dead, or to anything else for that matter.
When my glass hits the table, Addison’s is just reaching her lips.
Everything about the way she drinks it turns me on. From the way her slender fingers hold the glass, to the way her throat moves as she swallows.
A million images of how she’d look as she sucks my cock are going through my head until she speaks again.
“You make me feel …” she trails off and hesitates to continue.
“Scared?” I offer her. I’m used to making certain people feel that way. Only when I need them to remember what I’m capable of.
“No … unworthy.” I’m struck by her candor.
“If you think that, it’s because you’ve come to that conclusion on your own.”
“You’ve always made me think that. Even back when I was with Tyler.” My spine stiffens hearing her bring him up so casually this time. Like it’s easy to use his name in conversation.
“Your bruschetta,” the waiter says, setting the plate down in the center of the table. I’ve never wanted to kill a waiter for delivering an appetizer before. Not until this moment.
He starts to speak again and I cut him off. “We’re good here, thank you.” My words are rushed and hard and I pray for his sake he takes the fucking hint.
My gaze moves from him to Addison, and her expression makes me regret it.
“You made me think that when I got here.” Addison looks as if she’s debating on eating. I guess the topic has ruined her appetite. It takes me a second to remember what she even said … unworthy.
“You were late.”
“I got here as soon as I could,” she protests weakly. As if she’s truly apologetic and the part that pisses me off the most is that I know she is.
“If you don’t want me to be angry, then don’t make me wait.” I’m wound tighter and tighter by the second. It’s amazing how a girl like Addison can tempt my self-control.
“You didn’t have to wait. You can go,” she retorts, saying each word while staring straight into my eyes. Daring me.
I smile. “I don’t want to leave.”
The anger in her features softens at my response. “I just hit traffic.”
A heavy breath comes and goes as I settle back in my seat, watching for her reaction. This tit for tat is different for me. “It’s fine,” I tell her, hoping to end it. And move back to the plan.
“Why do you look at me like that?” she asks me and I still.
“How is it that I look at you?” I ask her to clarify. It’s usually so easy to manipulate others into seeing me how I need them to. But Addison is observant beyond measure. She always has been. And she’s always been different.
“Like you don’t trust me. Or maybe you don’t know what to expect from me.”
I shrug. “I don’t trust anyone. Don’t take it personal.”
She laughs and her shoulders shake slightly. “Maybe that’s because of the people you hang out with?” she suggests and quirks a brow at me.
“I don’t hang out with anyone.” I answer her simply, with no emotion. Merely stating a truth.
She hums a response and reaches out for a piece of the toasted bread. As she bites into it, the bread crunches loudly and diced tomatoes fall into her hand. She actually blushes, and after she swallows she says defensively, “You should eat some, it’s weird with you just watching me.”
I let a rough chuckle vibrate up my chest. “I’m not hungry.”
“I hate being rude and eating it all myself, but the alcohol is already hitting me.”
Good. I don’t say the thought out loud.
As she wipes her hands on her napkin, I ask her, “What is it that you want from me, Addison?” My hands clench under the table as I wait. I know exactly what I want from her. To fuck her out of my system. To be done with an obsession from long ago.
She shoots me a sweet, genuine smile and the blush grows hotter on her face. “I think it’s the alcohol talking.”
Her smile is addictive and I feel my own lips twitch up into a lopsided grin. “Why’s that?”
“Because I want to tell you I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss you.”
I feel myself swallow. I feel everything in this moment. Watching her blush and smile at me like that, I want more of it. I don’t know if it’s the vodka, the tequila or the wine. Maybe a combination of the three. But whatever’s making her blush, she needs more of it.
My heart beats rapidly and my cock hardens to the point where it’s nearly unbearable.
As she covers her face with her hands, the waiter walks by casually and I reach out, fisting his shirt and stopping him in his tracks.
The look on his face is a mix of shock and fear. But I’m quick to loosen my grip and tell him, “More shots.”