They didn’t scream look at me.
Marisol had been hoping that Saber wouldn’t turn up here. She was certain small-town Montana wasn’t his thing either.
She should have known better than to think her aunt was done with him. There had to be some reason Rosalind moved here and she would bet it had everything to do with Saber and his gang of goons.
Marisol glared at his truck. She wasn’t allowed to put her car in the garage, she had to drive it around the back, even though she lived here. Wouldn’t do to let the neighbors see it. She hadn’t bothered to point out that they could easily spot her coming and going in it. She’d learned it wasn’t worth standing up to Rosalind. She held all the power.
Sometimes Marisol thought about just leaving. Walking away. There had to be a life out there for her, right?
There was just one problem. Money.
She had none. The small amount she’d managed to squirrel away might get her a bus ticket out of here and a few weeks in a cheap motel.
But it wouldn’t be enough to get her into even a cheap apartment.
And it definitely wouldn’t be enough to pay for her medication.
So here she was, stuck. Did she know her aunt was exploiting her? Course she did. Did she know that how she treated her was illegal? You bet. She wasn’t dumb. But what could she do? Report her? And where would that get her?
Homeless and on the streets. That’s where.
At least with her aunt, she had a house to live in, books to read and access to the medicine she needed.
Kind of important things.
She slid into the mudroom then out into the kitchen, listening carefully. Some thumps and moans came from the direction of the living room. Christ, she knew exactly what those sounds were. You didn’t grow up with Rosalind without hearing them plenty.
Why couldn’t they take things into the bedroom? Why did they have to fuck out in the open where anyone could see?
She was pretty certain her aunt was an exhibitionist. But, eww, the last thing she wanted was to see her aunt naked.
Or even worse, Saber.
Sure, he was okay looking for an older guy. In shape. But yuck, she really didn’t want to see his willy.
Willy. She whacked her hand over her mouth so she didn’t giggle. She’d been reading this romance written by a woman who lived in the UK and had seen the word. It made her laugh every time. She knew that was childish, but she needed something to lighten the tension flooding her.
She had three choices. She could go back outside and wait in the car until they were finished. That was problematic because if her aunt caught her walking in later, she was likely to get mad at her for being late.
Choice number two, wait in the kitchen until they’d finished. But that was basically as bad as waiting in the car, only she could hear them fucking in here.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Something smashed. Great. She was going to have to clean that up before her aunt got up in the morning. While her aunt might like to hump all over the house, without a care to being caught, she hated when things got broken. Usually because they cost a disgusting amount of money.
With a sigh, Marisol knew which choice she was going to go with. She would have to sneak past the living area to the stairs and hope they didn’t catch sight of her.
Right, Marisol, you can do this. You know how to move quietly when you want.
Yep. She’d had lots of practice.
Graceful and light. Two things she’d never be.
Exhaustion came over her in a wave and her stomach growled, reminding her that it had been a while since she’d eaten. Not good. She grabbed some cheese and crackers from the kitchen, stuffing it all in her handbag to eat in her room.
Sweat broke out along her skin as she tiptoed along the passage towards the stairs. Just as she’d guessed, the living room doors were wide open, inviting anyone who walked past to peer in.
Gross.
She snuck a peek. Not because she wanted to see them fucking, but because she wanted to gauge whether either of them were facing her way. She immediately regretted it when she saw Saber’s naked ass as he pounded into her aunt who was lying stomach down over the back of the horrid floral couch.
Please don’t let them stain it.
Also, note to self, don’t sit on that couch ever again.
Wishing she could erase her memory or burn her eyes, either would suffice, she made her way around the banister and started climbing the stairs. Her aunt was making these weird keening noises while Saber grunted like an animal.
Too late, she remembered the stair that creaked. She cringed as she stepped on it. Like a deer caught in headlights, she froze. Then she glanced over to make sure that her aunt hadn’t heard her.
She hadn’t. But Saber had.
His dark gaze caught her. A shiver of dread went through her.
Then he smiled.
Goosebumps crossed her skin and she thought she might vomit. She rushed up the stairs as he let out a deep roar. Her aunt’s cry following.
Jesus. Jesus. So gross.
She flung herself into her bedroom, and quickly turning, locked it. The lock was pretty flimsy and she didn’t really trust it. She should move the dresser.
She spun around, heaving out a breath of relief.
And realized that in her haste, she’d failed to pay proper attention to her surroundings. Her heart beat sped up, her stomach dropping as she took in the heavily-tattooed man lying on her bed.
“Hello, Marisol. Long time, no see.”
3
Marisol froze.
She stared.
“Have you got no greeting for your brother?” he said with a purr.
“You’re not my brother.” The idea of it was ridiculous. And horrifying.
“When our parents get married, I will be.”
“She’s not my mother,” she spat at him. Married? Oh God. Please don’t tell her that Rosalind was marrying Saber?
He narrowed his gaze at her. Those green eyes turned dark. They were so like his father’s that another shiver worked its way through her. “What’s wrong, Marisol? Don’t like the idea of being my sister? It won’t stop us from becoming more intimately acquainted. It’s not incest, after all. But it does add a certain taste of the forbidden, don’t you think?”
What she thought was that she was about to throw up.
She needed to get this asshole out of her bedroom.
Why hadn’t she thought about the fact that Tiger would be with his father? He might be twenty-four, but he’d been raised in his father’s gang. He was being groomed as his Saber’s right-hand man.
And he seemed to believe that he had some claim on her.
Not. Happening.
She’d rather take her chances on the street than end up under this man. No, boy. Linc was a man. Tiger was a spoiled little boy who didn’t like hearing the word ‘no.’
Actually, her telling him ‘no’ seemed to make him dig in his feet. It seemed to be some sort of challenge to him. A game. He couldn’t seem to comprehend that she didn’t actually want him.
Sure, under other circumstances, if he was a guy just walking down the street, she might have thought he was cute. But because she knew him, knew what he was capable of . . .
He was ugly.
“I’ve been having to entertain myself until you got home.” It was then that he held up the thing in his hand. Too late, she realized what it was. Her heart beat sped up.