Present
“So this is Women, Gender, and Sexuality in Japan,” I said, walking into Banks’ classroom. “Part One.”
I added the last part sarcastically, unsure as to why this class needed to exist in the first place, much less needed more than one part to it.
My sister turned her head, locking eyes on me over her shoulder. Slowly, she dropped her pen and twisted in her seat, a cautious but faint smile on her lips at seeing me. The ‘I love him, but should I be worried he’s here?’ variety.
“Your course list is like a plate filled with every single food I refused to eat as a kid,” I told her.
“I like my course list.”
And then she broke into a full smile, and my heart skipped a beat. It was the same smile she gave me when we would do all the childish shit my friends were too cool to do with me in high school.
Sneaking into movies without paying.
Playing tag in the rain in the maze.
Midnight drives way over the speed limit on a school night, because we just needed to get out of the house.
She smiled less the older we got, but just now, it came so easily. I could tell already. She was different.
I descended the steps slowly, one at a time, the auditorium having emptied a few minutes earlier after her class was over. She always stayed, though, and graded the pop quizzes after every lesson for the professor.
Quite the little student now.
“It’s a lot of politics, history, and sociology,” I remarked on her course list. “Why those classes?”
She shrugged and dropped her eyes, looking thoughtful as she glanced back at the papers at her seat. She’d done most of my homework in high school, and it was always well above passing, so I knew she was smart and a quick learner. It gave me pause to hear she was in college, though. It never occurred to me she enjoyed it.
“The world was small growing up,” she finally answered, looking up at me again. “Now, everything I learn makes it bigger. I want to know everything. Every person who walked before me. Every war fought. Every culture that breathes the same air. I can’t explain it, I just…”
“You just did.” I stopped a few steps up, aggravated even though I didn’t want to be. I knew she meant me. Even though she didn’t come to live at my house until she was twelve, I was part of the reason her world was so small growing up. I wanted her to be happy, but I hadn’t outgrown that possessiveness. I still had a hard time being happy that she was happy, when the reason she was happy wasn’t because of me.
And this—I looked around the room—it was one more thing taking her away from me. The bigger her world became, the farther away from me she got, and out of any emotion that I avoided, I hated loss the most.
“I’m glad you’re in school,” I told her. “I never imagined you like this. But it suits you.”
She was beautiful.
And bright. Her dark brown hair hung down her back in loose curls, her jeans and short-sleeved black blouse fit a lot better than my clothes ever did, she wore lipstick and mascara, and the light caught the small ruby encrusted with diamonds on her left hand. Kai must’ve gotten her a proper ring after their quick nuptials.
Fucking Kai. He’d clearly treated her how she deserved.
But was she his now? Truly?
I sighed, looking around. “I hated college.”
“You hated being away from your family,” she corrected. “And I don’t mean Gabriel and me.”
I clenched my jaw. Yeah.
The year and two months I spent at college sucked, and even now, I look back on it as though time had been suspended as I existed without Michael, Will, and Kai.
And her.
“You were the only loner I knew who hated being alone,” she mused, gathering up her books and papers.
“So what will you do?” I asked, changing the subject. “With your education, I mean?”
“She’s already doing it.” A voice trailed down from the top of the stairs, and I glanced over my shoulder enough to see a skinny body with brown hair trot down.
Alex.
“She, Rika, and I are designing a curriculum for young women,” she said, stopping just above me. “Self-defense, survival, situational awareness, decision-making… We’re hoping to roll it out next summer, starting at Sensou.”
Sensou. The dojo Kai, Rika, Will, and Michael owned together. Not with me.
Self-defense, survival, situational awareness… People don’t need classes in that. You push someone in a pool, they learn how to swim quick enough.
Banks stood up, bringing her satchel—weighed down and bulging with books and who knew what else with her. She looked up at me, explaining, “I want to empower people. That’s all I know for now.”
“Ready for lunch?” Alex asked behind me, but I knew she wasn’t talking to me. They were probably meeting Rika, too, since they all went to school here at Trinity College.
My sister walked past me, and I caught a little bow of her head, almost like an apology. It was subtle, and I hadn’t seen it in forever, but she used to do it all the time, didn’t she? Always little looks or gestures like that to handle me and my temper or keep me on an even keel.
I inhaled a deep breath.
I needed her. I needed an anchor.
“Banks,” I said, and turned around slowly.
She stopped and paused, standing there but not turning around. She didn’t want to deal with me, and she wasn’t going to have to. I was her big brother. I took care of her, not the other way around.
“I’ll catch up,” she finally told Alex.
Alex shot me a look, and I cocked an eyebrow, reminding her that she really didn’t like me upset.
Her lips formed a tight line and she nodded at Banks, leaving the auditorium.
Banks turned around, but she still wouldn’t look at me.
We were only a few feet from each other, but all of a sudden, it felt like miles.
I’d nearly killed my friend.
I’d destroyed Kai’s business.
I’d threatened her, had her guarded, and kept her practically caged.
I was sorry for some things, not for others.
I swallowed. “The way…the way I was with you…” I started, “I—”
“You raised me,” she said, raising her eyes. “And who knows what would’ve happened to me if I’d stayed with my mother.”
I waited for her to continue, not sure if she was just trying to make me feel better or if she really thought her life with me was worth it all.
“I like who I am,” she told me. “I don’t hate you for anything.”
And despite my slow, steady breaths and unwavering gaze on her, a little relief started to seep through my bones.
I watched her leave the auditorium, looking a little less unsure than when I walked in.
She didn’t trust me, and she might not choose me.
But she was still with me. Even just a bit.
That was something.
I arrived back at the Ashby house—technically now my house—just after six and fucking starving. I had barely eaten all day, and even though I’d rather wait until late to come in, so I’d have to deal with Arion as little as possible, I wanted to see her. I wanted Winter at my dinner table tonight.
“Hello, sir,” Crane said, opening the door for me.
I walked into the house, hearing the driver pull off behind me, and charged immediately up the stairs as the wind outside whistled through the old wood and any cracks in window panes it had found.
But there was no music or footsteps, and the upstairs was dark.
I stopped, slipping my hand into my suit pocket.
“Is anyone home?” I peered over my shoulder down to Crane.
He cleared his throat. “Mrs. Ashby and Mrs. Torrance are on their way back from the city—shopping,” he clarified. “They’ll be here in time for dinner.”
Mrs. Torrance. Jesus, fuck you.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, letting out a breath and waiting.
“And…” he continued. “Miss Ashby is in the backyard.”
I stopped breathing for just a moment. The backyard. I hated the way knowing that she was so close could give me pause.
I locked my jaw and continued up the stairs.
“She’s not alone, sir,” he called after me. “Mr. Grayson is here.”
I halted. Will?
“Please let me know if I shouldn’t have admitted him,” Crane rushed to add. “You only said—”
“It’s fine,” I bit out.
Continuing up the stairs, I barreled into my bedroom, throwing open the door so hard, the knob slammed into the wall. Charging over to the windows, I pulled back the gossamer curtain and peered down into the backyard, the view from the second floor spanning the terrace, pool, pool house, and wooded area beyond. I locked my gaze on them in the pool.
“What the fuck?” I growled low.
He had her in a headlock, her hair in her face, and a huge fucking smile on his. She struggled and fought, trying to reach him behind her, and while I was trying to decide if I was angrier that he was touching my shit or if he was really hurting her or just playing with her, he let her go, pushed her forward, and splashed her, both of them laughing and answering my question.
I gripped the window frame, scowling down at them. They stood waist deep, his chest naked, tattoos blaring, and she in some halter bikini top. Over the next several minutes he worked with her on different holds and how to get out of them. His lips moved, talking her through what to do as he grabbed or yanked her or backed her into the edge of the pool.
I almost snorted. Fucking Rika.
This was her idea. I’d bet any piece of ass she sent Will over here to teach Winter some self-defense moves to fend me off. Nice move, kid, but this was chess, not checkers. Remember?
Winter shot out her hands, planting them on Will’s chest, and I breathed hard and deep, my eyes burning with a glare.
She doesn’t touch him.
And he doesn’t touch her.
Releasing the curtain, I spun around and walked out of the bedroom and down the stairs.
I liked that Will was here. I wanted him here. I wanted him with me.
But he was not her fucking lifeline. Period.
I rounded the bannister and made my way to the back of the house and through the back door. Walking to the edge of the terrace, I stopped and looked down at them as they talked and played.
It made sense now why he took her into the pool. Without her sight, it helped her maintain balance and cushioned any falls during their training. Thank you for that, Will. I wanted her in perfect condition.
Sprinkles of rain hit my shoulders, and Winter fluttered her eyelashes as she turned her face to the sky and held out her hands, palms up. Drops hit the water, clouding the still surface, and the fire pit crackled near the pool house, an inviting glow under the darkening sky.
Will smoothed his wet hair over the top of his head and finally looked up, spotting me. He stood there, still and unwavering, his fucking juniper eyes always twisting a goddamn hole through my head like a screwdriver, and for a moment, it was high school, we were side by side, and Winter wasn’t standing between us.
In that moment, I wanted to grab him and her and Banks and put us all on an island, because they would never not belong to me.
Lightning shot through the sky, thunder cracked, and Will and Winter exchanged words before she hopped out of the pool. He followed, helping her find her towel.
Once she was dried off, she wrapped the towel around her body, but when he tried to take her hand, she waved him off. He said a few more words to her, she nodded, and then turned around.
Putting out her right hand, she made her way back up to the house, toward me, and I locked eyes with Will.
The corner of his mouth tilted in a challenge, and I shook my head as Winter made her way in my direction. Walking right past me, she paused, turning her head my way, and I looked down at her, knowing she knew I was here, mere inches away.
My eyes fell down her face, neck, and shoulders, touching her the only way I’d allow myself just yet.
Stupid girl. He only taught you to fend off one attacker. What if there were more?
She dropped her head, her lips tightening, and she walked on, back into the house.
Soon.
Will dried off and walked over to the fire pit, holding out his hands to warm up. I descended the brick steps, making my way over to him.
“I got your letter,” he said, staring at the fire.
I quirked a smile, remembering the note I sent him a while back. Challenging him to find me. To face who he really was, and it wasn’t as Michael and Kai’s third wheel. Fuck them.
“You think you can stop me?” I stared at him over the fire. Is that why he was here? Doing Rika’s bidding and trying to arm Winter against me?
But his eyes danced with mischief even though he still wasn’t looking at me. “You didn’t think that beating I gave you was the end of it, did you?”
My smile froze, remembering the beating I let him give me last year, because I knew I deserved it. I’d knelt there, letting him hit me again and again, because I wanted to feel worse on the outside than I did on the inside, and for so many moments, I just wanted him to kill me. Just kill me, because I can’t take it back, and I can’t move on.
I’d almost killed him. And I wanted him to hate me so hard he would fucking murder me, and then maybe, after his anger was spent, he’d love me again. Whether I lived or died, he needed to forgive me for standing by and letting Michael’s brother do what he did on that yacht that night.
But I wasn’t the only one to blame for all that shit that went down two years ago after we got out of prison, either. I took my punishment for my part, but I wasn’t taking it lying down again.
And if at least a small part of him wasn’t willing to forgive me, he wouldn’t be here now. He wanted to be here. He hadn’t let it go, which meant he hadn’t let me go. Not completely.
“You missed me,” I said in a low voice.
He moved behind the flames, circling the fire slowly, and I did the same, following him.
“Didn’t you?” I taunted.
His wet jeans clung to his legs, and I noticed he’d added some more ink to his chest and arms since I last saw him.
But some things hadn’t changed. He was still dwelling on shit and still getting drunk and high all the time. He needed me.
A small chuckle escaped him as I caught his eyes again. “You were my heroin once upon a time,” he said, and his eyes disappeared behind the flames again.
I stepped again, moving around the fire and locking eyes with him again. “And you still like your drugs from what I hear.”
He shook his head, knowing full well where I got that information. “Fucking Rika.”
“Fucking Rika.” I nodded.
He moved again, disappearing, and I advanced, seeking him. His eyes on me when he dropped out of sight and still on me when he reappeared. His lips twitched and his gaze was charged with fury, rage, excitement, the blacks of his eyes small and sober, because he didn’t need that shit when he had me.
“Winter likes you,” I said, taking another slow step. “She seems to trust you. Why?”
“I have a way…with women,” he teased.
“I remember.” I licked my lips. “You were fun to watch.”
His breathing turned shallow, and I knew he was remembering all the shit we got up to back in the day. We had some fun.
Even without girls.
“You want to see me with her?” he asked. “Is that it?”
I laughed under my breath and cocked my head. “Not exactly.”
I shot off, catching him off guard, darted around the fire and slammed my palms into his chest, pushing him backward into the wall of the pool house. He grunted, hitting the brick with his bare back.
The rain started pummeling the awning overhead, and I raced up to him, ready to throw him down on the ground, but he bent over and barreled into my stomach, sending us both falling to the concrete deck.
I bared my teeth, seething and throwing my fist across the side of his head while he punched my stomach. I tightened every muscle in my gut against his attack, and I didn’t know if I was really angry or just desperate to engage him in anything, because I’d fucking missed this, but either way, I was having fun.
I threw him over onto his back, and he kept rolling, trying to get away, but I caught him. I landed on his back, pressing him into the ground and driving my arm into the back of his neck to keep him in place.
“Oh, I remember this,” I taunted in his ear, every inch of my chest pressed against his back and both us very aware of my groin on his ass. “This is what you really missed, isn’t it?”
He jerked his head back, trying to head butt me. “Don’t fucking talk about that,” he growled. “I was drunk.”
“All three times?” I teased, smiling. “Michael and Kai don’t know how close we got, do they?”
I lowered my mouth to his ear, ready to revive his memory of how there were moments when I was the only one who would give him what he needed. When no one else was there for him, and we had everything money could buy but all we really wanted were things that didn’t have a price.
When we were young and already drained and rotting from the inside out, and for a few nights here and there we just wanted to touch someone who got it. Who understood.
I could make him remember. I could push forward and not think and make him not think and just go and take and feel and…
Reaching around, I grabbed the front of his throat and buried my face in his fucking neck, but he thrashed, jerking his head back once again, breaking free from my hold, and slamming me in the bottom lip.
I squeezed my eyes shut as the corner of my mouth dug into my teeth, and I growled, distracted long enough for him to throw me off.
Heat coursed under my skin, and my heart picked up pace as I laughed and licked the cut, tasting the blood on my mouth.
You fucking little shit. Will was nice…until he wasn’t. Winter shouldn’t trust him too much.
I stood up as he rose to his feet, as well.
“You know,” he started, a condescending little smirk on his face. “I was never turned on by Winter growing up. Too pale. Too pure.”
He bent over, swiping my cigarettes off the ground and pulled one out. He tossed the pack back to me, and I caught it, glaring at him as he bent down to the fire, lighting the end.
“She was pretty, but I like my meat hot.” He blew out a stream of smoke, his gaze locked on the flames as he drifted off in thought for a moment. “Sexy with chocolate-colored hair and olive skin. Fat lips and dark eyes taunting me behind some seductive, librarian glasses.”
He trailed off, lost in the images in his mind, and I knew exactly who he was thinking of. But after a moment, he shook his head, coming back. “I never really knew why you were drawn to Winter. Michael and Kai thought she was just a one-night stand to you, but I knew better.” He raised his eyes, meeting mine. “They didn’t see the way you would look at her at school, during lunch and in passing in the hallways. And how no one—no one,” he re-emphasized the words, “fucked with her behind her back after what you did to any guy who disrespected her, like making an obscene gesture right next to her that she couldn’t see.”
He circled the fire again, and I did the same, not taking my eyes off him for a moment.
“But about a year ago,” he said, “I checked in on your girl. Watched her rehearse at the theater with a fellow dancer. Some guy.”
My teeth slowly ground together.
“Though they weren’t doing much rehearsing,” he taunted, and I could see the images playing behind his eyes. “He had her pinned against a wall, her long hair spilling around her and her skin flushed with sweat and heat from dancing… His hands were all over her, and his tongue halfway down her little throat.”
I held back the snarl that pulled at my lips, but I couldn’t help the images that flooded my mind. Of a time when I had her in very much the same fucking position. Her naked breasts, her arms around my neck and hugging me to her, us in a tangle so tight you couldn’t tell what was me and what was her…
Slut. I hoped he was telling the truth.
“She stopped it when he tried to undress her,” Will told me. “But one thing I noticed for certain. That girl is ready to be used like a woman.” A heated look crossed his eyes. “And she may not have liked it with you, but she just might love it with me.”
I balled my fists.
“Yeah,” he mused, his tone trying to get under my skin. “She’s damn-well turning me on now. She felt really good in the pool, and I can just see her lily-white ass backing up into my cock, her hair bouncing against her back—”
I kicked the fire pit, and it went tumbling into the pool, extinguishing, and I lunged for him, but he made no move to get away. With one hand on the front of his neck and the other hand on his back, I whipped him around and threw him into the wall of the pool house.
“I almost killed you once,” I gritted through my teeth and getting in his face. “I could do it again.”
“Then do it,” he fired back. “Do it, because I got nothin’ to lose, D. Nothing.”
He gasped out the last, desperation suddenly rippling off of him, and it was familiar, because I felt it, too. I stared at him, his eyes searching mine.
“I can’t stop going down this road I’m on,” he nearly whispered, his eyes watering. “My family is done with me. Michael has Rika. Kai has Banks. You were a lie.” He faltered, dropping his gaze. “She was a lie.”
She.
She was next. After I was done with Winter, I’d do it for him.
“I’m not afraid of you,” he said, even though his voice was laced with defeat. “I’m not afraid of anything anymore. If you don’t kill me, I’ll keep pushing you until you have to. And I will fuck you over any way I can.” He bared his teeth, growling. “In ways she’s gonna love.”
I slammed him into the wall again, but he still didn’t fight me.
“You wanna watch?” he egged me on. “Come on. She won’t even know you’re in the room. You can see if she likes it with me. See if she responds to me better than she responded to you.”
Stop it.
“See how hard I make her sweat and moan and how fast I can make her come on my dick,” he sneered.
I glowered at him, my fingers digging into his neck. She wouldn’t want him. And so help her God if she did.
“So do it then,” he urged, finally shoving his palms into my chest and pushing me back. “Kill me before I can fuck her, because I won’t stop.”
He pushed me again, and I stumbled back, my fingers tightening into fists.
No. Stop, just stop.
“Because I have a passion for self-destruction, and you always knew it, and you always knew we would end badly.” His voice cracked. “This won’t end any other way.”
Was he right? Did I think our friendship would survive our future?
Be with me. Just be with me. Not against me.
But he shoved at me again. “I’ll take her from you.”
“Don’t,” I choked out.
The walls were closing in. I couldn’t breathe.
But he pushed me again, and I winced, my chest now aching. “And she’ll take me away from you, and then you’ll be all alone. Like you always should’ve been.”
My stomach churned, and I seethed, and then he hit me, fire spreading across my cheek and sending my head jerking to one side.
“You’re gonna deal with me!” he yelled and then hit me again, sending me stumbling. “Kill me. Fucking finish the job and kill me, because I’m fucked, and I hate you, and if you don’t take me out, I’ll take you out, because it’s fucking over!”
He shoved me again and again, and I was losing it. I shot out my hands to stop him, “Don’t. Stop.”
A tear streamed down his face, but he wiped it away, growling. “Do it,” he bit out. “Snap my neck, rip out my throat, or strangle me, you sick fuck! Just do it!”
He punched me across the jaw, pain shot through my head, and I clenched my fists so tight my nails dug into my palms.
“Will…” I breathed out, unable to catch my breath. “Don’t.”
“I’ll never stop.” He shook his head, coming in again. “Never.”
He pushed me. “Kill me.”
Stop.
His hands slammed into me again. “I’m going to take her away from you, so kill me.”
You can’t have her. I’ll…
“Kill me, so I’m out of your way!” he bellowed. “If you did it right last time I’d be at the bottom of the fucking ocean, so finish the job, and then you can have her!”
An image of him sinking below the deep, black surface of the sea crawled into my head, and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to get rid of it.
He would’ve been gone forever.
“Fucking kill me,” he said, his voice even and suddenly calm.
“No.”
“Kill me. You’re going to have to.”
I shook my head.
He grabbed me by the collar, screaming, “Do it!”
And I grabbed his neck in my hands, ramming him into the wall of the pool house. “I can’t!”
He grunted, breathing hard, and I dropped my forehead to his, unable to swallow the fucking needles in my throat.
“Fuck, I can’t,” I whispered. “Please, stop. Please.”
“I can’t,” he mouthed, and tears streamed down his face. “I can’t.”
I moved my hands to his face, just holding him, and ready to say so much, because I never had to hide anything from him. He never saw weakness when he looked at me. I wanted to tell him things.
I wanted to tell him that I never would’ve hurt him. That I didn’t know what Trevor was doing, and it wasn’t supposed to go down like that, because out of all three of my friends, Will was the one I would always save first. That my pride and anger wouldn’t let me retreat, and that if he had been pulled to the ocean’s bottom, out of my reach, I would’ve followed him.
I would’ve fucking followed him and rotted down there, close to wherever he was, because nothing I would’ve acquired after that—my inheritance or my vengeance on Winter—would’ve been worthwhile without him.
His breath fell on my mouth, and his wet hair behind his head grew warm under my fingers. He needed me. I dug my fingers into his scalp. He had to realize he needed me. No one was going to hold him up like I would.
No one.
I dove in, catching his bottom lip between my teeth and pushing us both through the pool house door.
He stumbled back, snarling and ready to fight me, but I rushed in, sinking my mouth into his and pushing him down onto the couch. I covered his lips with mine, gripping his throat with one hand and holding myself up with the other.
“Fuck you,” he sneered, pulling his mouth away.
I grinned and flicked his lip with my tongue. “Only if you want to.”
Releasing his neck, I yanked his jeans open and slid my hand down inside as he grabbed at my hand, trying to stop me, but I gripped his fucking cock, feeling it was already a little stiff.
“What is she wearing?” I started, stroking him, not giving him time to think. “What is she fucking wearing for you, huh?”
He stopped breathing, closed his eyes, and tipped his head back, letting out a groan. “Damon, stop.”
I hovered my mouth over his, stroking him a little faster as I nudged my knee between his legs, parting them. “What is she wearing?”
He grew full and hard, and I traced my tongue along his bottom lip. “She wants you in her mouth.” I tightened my grip on his cock. “She wants this in her mouth.”
“Yeah.”
And I had him.
“What the fuck is she wearing?” I stroked him again and again, his skin smooth and hot in my hand.
“She sleeps…” He paused, gasping at what I was doing to him.
“Yes?”
His body shook. “She sleeps in these…in these sweet, little panties,” he said, his eyes still closed and imagining the object of his obsession. “There’s the smallest triangle of fabric in the front, just covering her.”
“Red?” I bit his lip again.
But he shook his head. “Blue. And a T-shirt. She sleeps on her stomach, and her hips move in her sleep. God, her ass…”
“Mmmm…” I felt a little cum drip out of him. “She’s grinding that cunt into the bed, huh? Her pussy must be nice and warm.”
“Fuck, it’s hot.” He grabbed the back of my neck, our mouths centimeters away from each other. “Harder.”
“And wet?” I teased him, jerking him faster and harder how he wanted. “Is it wet?”
He nodded, his breathing growing heavier.
“And tight?”
“Yeah.”
“Lick her, Will,” I told him, giving him what that bitch never did. “She loves you in the dark. She lets Will Grayson III, star of the basketball team, come over to her house, climb into her room at night, and come inside her whenever he wants.”
His abs contracted, he got lost in the images in his head, bared his teeth, dug his fingers into the back of my neck, and then…released, spilling into my hand and down his long cock.
He moaned, sweat glistening across his neck and chest, and he kept his eyes closed, because he knew once he opened them the spell would be broken. It wasn’t her on top of him. It was me.
After a moment, his breathing had calmed, and he opened his eyes slowly. His shoulders were relaxed, and he was done fighting.
I climbed off him and stood up, yanking a pool towel out of the wardrobe. I finished with it and tossed it down to him.
“That’s all you can do, isn’t it?” he said, cleaning and zipping up. “You can only fuck people or fuck with them. That’s the only way you can connect.”
He threw the towel down, calmer than before but still… still not with me.
“Thinking back now,” he mused solemnly, “I wonder if anything I got from you was real.”
I didn’t know if he was right, and I didn’t care. I maneuvered, he maneuvered, and I moved again, always with my win in sight. I did what I had to.
The trouble was, I didn’t want to annihilate Will, and if I won whatever game we were playing, would I destroy him in the process? Was what he said true? Was it impossible for us to end any other way?
“If you hurt Winter, you’ll deal with me,” he said.
I righted my clothes, swiping the rain off my lapels. But I didn’t respond. He knew I wouldn’t heed his warning. I let him dole it out anyway.
“And Michael,” he added. “And Kai.”
“And Rika and Banks?” I threw in.
“And Alex.” He shot me a sinister little grin, meeting my challenge. “Our army is bigger. You have no one.”
“All I need is me. One person willing to do what none of you will.” I paused and added, “You don’t have the stomach for this, Will. Don’t doubt that I will do whatever I have to keep what’s mine. That little girl belongs to me.”
He hesitated, looking me up and down and then meeting my eyes with resolution. “She doesn’t want to belong to you, Damon.”
I planted my hand on the gray-tiled wall, letting the hot, rainfall shower water cascade down my neck and back.
She doesn’t want to belong to you.
She doesn’t want to belong to you.
Oh, I knew. And I was going to take great pleasure in delivering lots of what she didn’t want.
But every muscle in my body tightened and knotted anyway, unable to let go.
She doesn’t want to belong to you.
I closed my eyes, hearing the words echo in my ears.
“You belong to me,” my mother says. “You belong to me, and I belong to you.
She lays beside me, slipping an arm underneath my head, looking down at me as she holds me close. “We’ll always be each other’s, Damon. Mommy will be yours no matter what. For the rest of your life. I’m yours, baby.”
I nod, but absently, I close my fists, the sheets of her bed bunching in my hands. I sleep with my mom a lot. She likes to keep me close, but I don’t tell anyone. I’ve been to other peoples’ houses—other kids my age—and I know this isn’t how they do things in their homes.
My mother’s silk nightgown caresses my chest, and her black hair tickles my arm. She gazes down at me with a small smile.
“I don’t belong to your father,” she says. “Not the way I belong to you. I was only thirteen when he first saw me. Did he ever tell you that? I was only a couple of years older than you are now.”
She dives in and tickles my neck, and I let out a little laugh before turning my head and pushing her hand away.
“He came to see my ballet troupe perform,” she goes on. “He came a lot, and I would see him watching me from the audience. All the other girls were so jealous, because I got flowers and presents, and I never did before. He called me his little princess, and I would dream he was going to take me home and make me his little girl and take care of me, so I didn’t have to live in that cold theater anymore with so little to eat.”
She looks off for a moment, her smile falling. I know my mother was young when she married my father. I hear people whisper when they find out she has an eleven-year-old son.
“And then one night,” she continues, “a big, black car came to get me. I was told to dress in my prettiest costume, they did my hair and makeup, and I left the theater. I was taken to his house, outside of Moscow, and he asked me to dance for him.” Her face lights up again, and she dives in, whispering as if it’s some secret. “And I did. I twirled and leaped and danced under the chandeliers on the marble floors of the hall, feeling like I was in a dream. He let me eat cake and drink champagne.”
One finger of her hand trails down the center of my torso, and then all of her fingers fan out across my stomach, making the little hairs on my body stand up. That feels good.
“And when I fell asleep,” she says, watching her hand caress me, “I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten to the bed. To his bed.” She stares off, lost in the memory. “I’m not sure when I woke up. Maybe I’d only been asleep for a moment, but when I opened my eyes, he was pulling my costume down… baring my little body…and ripping off my tights and slippers.”
I freeze, listening to her and surprised but not surprised, either. I haven’t heard this before.
But my father does awful things.
“I started to cry,” she tells me, “scared and screaming when he kissed me all over and bit my body so hard, and when he pulled down my panties and shoved himself inside me, I…” She breathes hard, still locked on the images in her head. “I liked it, Damon. I liked it.”
I know what she’s talking about. What he was doing to her. I’ve seen it before.
But she was thirteen. Her ballet studio in town had girls who were thirteen. I can’t imagine any of them…
“I liked being ravaged by him,” she continues. “I was a big girl now and he was so much rougher than the men I’d seen taking some of the other dancers when I would peek in the rooms of the theater. This is what men do. They ravage. They’re strong and they ravage, Damon.
She looks down at me, and that’s when I snap out of it and realize her fingertips are trailing down the front of my sleep pants.
“And it’s time you start practicing,” she says.
She reaches inside my pants and takes me in her hand, rubbing it.
I shake my head, squirming as I try to inch away from her.
“Shhh, it’s okay,” she croons, kissing the corner of my mouth and moving her hand faster on me. “Do you feel that, baby? It’s getting hard. That means you like it. You like what Mommy’s doing.”
No, I don’t. She’s not supposed to do that. She’s not…
I still, closing my eyes as it pumps with blood and sticks up straight.
No, no, no, no…. I don’t want this. I want to leave. I want to leave.
“Enjoy it, baby. Just enjoy it.” She leaves little kisses all over my mouth and face as she strokes. “You’re a strong man and strong men get as many women as they want to make them feel good.”
I don’t want…. I don’t want…
I squeeze my eyes shut and let out a groan. No, no, no…
I grabbed the soap from the dish and lathered it up, washing my chest and stomach again before soaping up my cock and getting it clean. Cleaner.
That was the first fucking time my mother ever touched me like that. The first episode of what turned into years of her on me.
My throat swelled with the vomit rising, and my shoulders slumped as I tried to turn inward, making myself as small as possible. It was an old feeling, but one I knew well. It made me hide in the fountain. In the maze. In showers and in closets, because if no one saw me, they wouldn’t see the shame.
She’s gone, I told myself. She’ll never take from me again. No one does.
But looking back over the years, I realized now it started long before that night. She took me into the shower with her long after I was able to take them on my own. She washed me and dried me and stayed in the room when I dressed and undressed.
And after months of doing everything she could with her hands and mouth, she finally came to my room one night and…
I used to brag I had my first woman at twelve, reveling in how other guys either thought I was lying or I was so lucky, because of all the whores my father kept around the house. But I always told the truth.
My father had to know what was going on. In his head, though, it made me a man.
And it wasn’t like he was against raping children, either. Considering how young my mother had been when they met.
I rinsed and shut off the water, grabbing a towel and drying off. I wrapped it around my waist and stepped out of the shower, walking to the mirror and wiping the condensation off.
I stared at my dark eyes, a little darker than hers, and the same black hair. A shadow lay on my jaw, and I picked up my straight razor, running it under the faucet to make sure it was clean.
What did Winter feel when she thought about me? Was the anger so thick that was all there was?
He asked her to dance for him.
He asked her to dance like I’d asked Winter to dance for me.
He watched my mother as I watched Winter.
Was that it then? Did I do to Winter in high school what my father did to my mother? Did I groom her?
I looked up, meeting my own black eyes in the mirror.
The secret of life that everyone knew and everyone forgot was that we weren’t alone. We thought we were unique. We thought we were the first.
No one has been through what I’ve been through.
No one else is feeling this.
No one knows what it’s like to be me.
This is the first time anyone has endured what I’ve endured, right?
They’re lies we tell ourselves, because we think we’re special. Because it would lessen the entitlement to suffer to know what we’re going through is not uncommon. It was a secret I never forgot and was able to use to keep things in perspective, so I could get through the shit in my head, but now…
Now I wished I could forget it. I wanted to be alone.
I didn’t want to know that I was like him or he was like me or that life followed patterns and history repeated itself. I wasn’t him, and Winter wasn’t my mother, and no one has been where we were.
This is special.
It’s different.
It’s unique and all mine.
She and I…we’re alone in the universe. No one was us.
And unlike my mother at thirteen, Winter fucking deserved everything that would happen to her.
I shaved and finished in front of the sink, knowing any doubts I had wouldn’t make me feel any better than being right where I was.
So I would stay the course. My mother was right about one thing. I liked everything when it was hard.
Walking into the bedroom, I spotted Arion right away, sitting on the bed with another girl, but I didn’t slow as I walked to the table with the bowl and dug out my watch.
“Did you bring me something, Arion?” I fastened the watch to my wrist, not looking at either one of them.
She wasn’t supposed to be in here, and she fucking knew it. The master bedroom was split into two rooms, conjoined by a walk-in closet in the middle. She had her space, I had mine. Maybe I’d invite her in one of these nights, but that was my call.
“A present,” she answered. “Just a little one.”
I spared a glance to the bed again, seeing her sitting behind the young, black woman, her arm draped over the girl’s shoulder and both of them looking at me like they were here for my feeding. I couldn’t see what Arion was wearing, but a strap of silk fell down her arm, while her other hand reached around, caressing the girl’s bare stomach.
“How old is she?” I picked up my cigarettes and shook one out.
“However old you want me to be,” I heard the girl answer for Arion.
I lit the cigarette and pinched the bridge of my nose, blowing out smoke. Jesus, fuck. Will would run into that bed, already hard and ready to fuck.
I didn’t like being fed. I needed to hunt.
“Her pussy’s dripping,” Arion cooed. “Young, tight, and hot. So hot.”
My cock started to throb a little, diving into my head and envisioning the feel of her.
“Really tight,” the girl taunted. “My foster daddy used to say I’m tighter than his hand when he would do me.”
Smoke poured out of my mouth as I laughed under my breath. Jesus, honey, you’re barking up a tall tree with that shit. Whatever little taboo story Arion fed you to get me hard is clearly too tame. My version of naughty is off most peoples’ grid.
“Fuck her bare,” Arion said. “Look how wide she spreads.”
Despite the games they played, I couldn’t help but look over. The young woman sat at the edge of the bed, her wide open pussy bare, and her tits peeking out of the bottom of a little half-shirt.
Scenarios popped in my head, instinctively searching for what I needed to make this work.
A threesome. Girl on girl. Tying them up. A gag.
Yeah. A gag.
I took another drag, not taking my eyes off them as the pictures played in my head.
“Fuck her bare,” Arion said again. “Fuck her as hard as you want, and make me watch. When it’s time to come, come inside me.”
And there it was. What she really wanted from me.
