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Thaddeus is so lost in the way she’s sucking him off that he doesn’t notice her slipping the house key we gave him to drop something off from his back pocket.It’s one of the few things that tricky bitch does impeccably well—swallowing a cock. Portia’s left hand slowly lowers, only to freeze when Thaddeus grips her hair and begins to buck his hips at a bruising speed. “That’s right, take it, you attention-seeking whore,” he grunts, and she moans.

She always loves to be degraded—calls it her way to know what poor girls suffer through to get money.

Portia is a bitch. A vile, overindulged, spoiled rotten, and not used to not getting her way cunt. It’s why we chose her. She iseasily manipulated. Push the right triggers, and she’s putty in the palm of your hands.

What we didn’t account for was her disdain for our sister. Never once in all the years we’ve known her did she display any hatred for Farrah. Not when Farrah visited, or we would be on a video chat. Portia was all smiles and friendliness. That probably should’ve been our clue.

“Fuck, Farrah.”

My head snaps at Thaddeus’s shout of my sister’s name.

“Did he just say what I think he said?” Colter seethes, springing from his seat.

I ignore his question, too stupefied to formulate a coherent thought, much less utter words.

My lip curls in disgust as Portia releases Thad from her mouth, “You know they’re going to kill you when they find out what you’ve done,” she states gleefully.

What the fuck did he do?

“I’m going to filet his balls and feed him his dick,” I snarl. My sister’s name shouldn’t ever be in his fantasy much less than on his lips as he fucks Portia’s mouth.

I’m so lost in my rage that I don’t notice Thad’s movements until a loud crack fills the speakers. “Shut the fuck, Portia,” he snarls as her earlier glee morphs into rage.

“Don’t you ever put your hands on me?—”

Thad’s hand shoots out and grips her throat, hoisting her up until she’s eye level with his glare. His free palm smacks her other cheek, forcing her head to whip right. I search for sympathy, but come up empty. Had this been a few days ago, this scene may have stirred some compassion. Unfortunately for her, that died with her stunt today.

She cries out, but it’s cut short, quickly replaced by choking. Portia’s legs dangle in the air as she fights to free herself from his hold.

“They’ll never find out. They’re too busy being sad and miserable about her death to focus on what happened while she was alive,” Thaddeus hisses, jerking with each word he spits. “And it’ll stay that way unless you want them to find out everything you would send Farrah behind their back.”

Portia’s eyes double in fear.

“What the fuck,” Colt growls. “How much bullshit did Farrah go through while our heads were up our asses?”

His question weighs heavily on me, striking the festering guilt that we failed our sister in more ways than one. It slices open the wound that realizes we’re projecting that failure onto Eva, making her our walking punching bag.

“Is that what you want?” he asks, gliding a knuckle along her already bruising cheek.

“No,” she croaks between swollen lips.

Thaddeus drops her to the ground. “I knew you weren’t as dumb as you pretend to be.” Portia begins to stand, but he pushes her back down. “I’m nowhere close to being done with you. If you want to earn that key you thought I didn’t feel you take, you’re going to let me use you until you’re a dirty mess from my cum being sprayed all over you.”

Portia’s eyes widen. “I did… didn’t t-take anything,” she tries, causing Thad to angle his head and smile.

“Come now, Porsh, don’t lie to me,” he yanks her up by her hair and slips his hand into her pocket as she winces.

“I—”

Her words are cut short when he backhands her across the face, sending her crashing to the ground.

Thaddeus squats down. “You’re going to pay for the bullshit lie with your ass, but if you still want to earn this key for whatever you’re fucking up to, you’ll be upstairs in Coop’s bed naked and waiting.” Then he grips her hair. “Do I make myself clear?”

Portia whimpers a yes before crawling to a stand and limping up the stairs.

Turning, I eye my bed like it will confirm those disgusting fuckers violated my space, but with the cleaning service that came later that day, all evidence was wiped away.

“I don’t know if I want to kill them more for— entering my space, violating our trust, or whatever they both did to our sister.”