Page 45

Kane won’t look at me as he walks out of the cabin.

The hurt in his eyes is replaced by arrogant satisfaction in the identical pale green ones in front of me.

Asher doesn’t even acknowledge that his brother has left or that they share a birthday.

I can’t do anything to hurt him when my attempt to get him out of my life has failed due to this thing growing inside of me.

As toxic as it is, I tell myself that the cells multiplying are from Kane. They’re identical, so genetically it would look like him. It would have his traits, not this dickhead’s.

As soon as I see Kane’s car drive through the gates, I look at Asher and scoff, “This doesn’t mean I choose you.”

He smiles and gets in my face, his nose invading mine, and his eyes widen. “What made you think you ever had a choice?”

Using both hands, I push against his chest and step back to have space to breathe that isn’t tainted by his fucking presence. “Fuck you. I’m a human being and I don’t want anything to do with you!”

He takes a step closer to me.

I take one back to maintain the gap as I demand, “Tell me what your plan is for Kane. I saw your messages. He’s not someone for you to use.”

I’ve never been able to decipher his messages. He’s a twisted freak and calls his own brother a reflection to other people. It’s inhumane to treat him like that and Asher knows it. That’s why he does it, because he knows that he’s inferior to Kane in every way.

I don’t wince as he grabs my hair. Not when my scalp is immune to the pain. I won’t let him see that it hurts, even if he stabs me.

“Delilah, Delilah,” he clucks. “Don’t worry. When I have everything I need, he’ll be the one who’s with you in public. You can even fuck him, but this?” He slaps his hand against my stomach. “This little factory belongs to me.”

I punch into the inside of his elbow. “I am not a fucking factory, and it isn’t yours.”

The twisted cunt was the one who told me that I was pregnant.

I don’t know if he stole my blood or my pee but either way it’s sinister to have someone who isn’t a doctor slap a positive pregnancy test in your hand.

The paper sheet didn’t say what was tested, and I’m not stupid enough to trust him.

Every test I’ve done has said that it’s true, and my mother is being uncharacteristically caring since Asher told me.

His fingers tighten in my hair as he pulls my head back. My neck aches. The twinge travels down to my shoulders as I’m forced to stare at the ceiling. He slowly leans over me and punches into my ribs, knocking the air out of me.

“No,” he says as I wheeze. “You are whatever the fuck I say you are. If I tell you you’re a dog, you kneel at my fucking feet and wait until I give you a treat.

” His fist lands against my hip since he’s avoiding hitting me in the stomach.

“And it is mine. I haven’t allowed anyone access to the pussy I own for six months to make sure that it belongs to me.

As soon as we get back, I’m reopening it to recoup the losses. ”

I bring my knee up, aiming for his worthless balls, and use my elbow to hit him in the stomach as I scream, “Fuck you! I’m not a business that needs opening or that would earn you anything, you sad little prick.”

I keep pushing against him to get him the fuck off me and he lets go of my hair. As I stumble back to get my footing, he brings his arm back. I’m distracted and his fist smacks into my jaw, sending me to the floor I was trying to stay away from.

There’s never an escape when I hit the floor. I curl up in a ball. Bringing my arms and knees up, I protect my face, so I don’t have to deal with the humiliation of other people seeing bruises. Since he’s broken his rule about not hitting me in the face, I don’t trust him not to stomp on my head.

Through the barrier of my arms, I see his leg cock back and I tense as his foot flies into my thighs. It pushes me back as he storms forward, spitting his curses and bringing his foot up to stomp on my calf.

“Do you think Harkin is the only one allowed to sell you? No, you fucking belong to me, and I can do what the fuck I want to you. He doesn’t get to sell your holes like it’s fucking mini golf, then pass you off to me when you’re used.”

He doesn’t see me as human. It’s why he refers to me as an object to do something to , not with .

But I can’t focus on anything between the rapid assault of his punches and kicks.

Not until he grabs my hair, drags me up to my knees and wraps his fingers around my jaw. They dig into my cheeks as he attempts to force my mouth open. He gets angrier as I lock my jaw, his nostrils flaring, and the reddened skin around his knuckles bleaching white.

“You’ll fucking pay for Harkin thinking he can go against the agreement. Does he think he’s more powerful than us? Than Rowan?”

The name makes my blood run cold. The last thing Ruby said was a warning about a man named Rowan.

She made escape routes and taught Scarlet and me how to get out of zip ties and car trunks in case we were kidnapped.

I didn’t have a fictitious monster under the bed when I was growing up; I had whispers about how to escape Rowan.

She never said what he’d do, only that we had to run.

Asher lets go of my hair and his fist hits my cheek with full force.

Pain dizzies me, pushing me back, but he tightens his hold on my face.

My vision blurs to skin-colored blobs as his belt buckle rattles.

The sound of his zipper being pulled down mixes with the metallic clapping.

Blood drips from my cheek, racing under his fingers as he removes his hand from my face.

He holds my nose closed and my vision becomes even blurrier, little dots dancing as an alien instinct to survive forces my mouth to open.

Burning hot liquid touches my cheek.

The smell is next.

One that I’ve woken up to many times when I’ve tried to escape him.

I flinch, choking down air while attempting to avoid the stream.

My nose aches as I pull his wrist and push my full body weight back.

But the psychotic cunt stands with his dick in his hand and fucking pisses on me.

Something snaps. After everything he’s done, that act enrages me because I see it now.

I’m not waking up to a wet patch in my room or a smell.

I can see him pissing on me. It reaches a fever pitch when he throws his head back and laughs, “Open wide, little doggy.”

I grab the closest thing to me. The bottle of vodka I bought to make this trip bearable is cool against my heated fingers.

I throw it, aiming for his fucking head, and it makes a loud thunk as it hits his jaw.

It doesn’t shatter until it meets the floor at his feet.

He steps forward, still trying to fucking piss on me.

Pushing myself up to stand, I keep screaming. Every single pain I’ve been forced to endure over the years is pushed into this one moment while he laughs. He tilts his head to the side and forces a pout while nodding. “Would it be easier if you pretend I’m your precious Kane?”

I copy him and laugh at how pathetic he is.

“Is that what you have to do because you know he’s better than you? You know that no one would choose you because he only has to exist to be better.”

Asher’s humor dies and he kicks up the vodka-piss mix as he lunges forward.

I jump back, falling over the arm of the sofa.

It gives him an advantage, and I twist as he grabs my ankle.

Kicking back, I grab the edge of the coffee table and attempt to pull myself forward.

It only places me on my stomach, and he flattens his full weight over my back.

His wet dick brushes the back of my thigh as he pulls my dress up, exposing my ass.

“GET THE FUCK OFF ME!” I kick back, trying to push him off me.

“Scream his name while I fuck you,” he pants, pushing his thigh between mine. “I’ll sew you the fuck up so no one else can get in. Really make sure you’re closed for fucking business or get them to pay to cut you open.”

The crystal vase I gave his parents for their anniversary falls onto my fingers from my tugging on the table. I don’t feel the ache against my knuckles as I stretch, reaching for it. As soon as I feel the cool edge, I wrap my fingers over it.

Asher roughly flips me onto my back.

It’s part of his sadistic game to see my pain while he invades my body.

Bringing the vase up with both hands, I use my full force and any reserve I have to hit him in the head to get him off me.

He stills when the edge splinters off his temple.

Little chunks of sharp crystal scratch my inner thighs, but I do it again, harder.

He stumbles back and I kick into his nasty fucking dick.

I don’t run.

I jump off the sofa as he sways, and my rage blinds me. Glass shatters and pain travels from my hand to my shoulders. The pain intensifies and I blink in time to see him fall to a heap on the floor. His eyes are half-lidded as he weakly brings his arms up.

I laugh.

It’s dark and bitter.

But I laugh and lift my foot. The sole of my shoe leaves an imprint on his dick as I slam down.

I do it again as he murmurs in pain. I don’t stop.

I want it to be bloody and mangled by the time I’m finished.

Cocking my leg back, I kick his jaw, but he doesn’t slide as much as I do when he kicks me in the stomach.

He only shuffles back into the soot from the fire we lit in the hearth last night.

So, I do it again and scream, “I hate you!”

And again.

“I hate that I ever fucking knew you!”

And again.

“That I let you fucking trick me!”

Again.

“I should have known you weren’t Kane that day!”

There’s a bone-splitting crack, and I stand with my chest heaving as I watch a pool of crimson slowly seep out from under Asher’s body. The back of his head is over the lip of the stone fireplace—where the blood is flowing from.

Fuck.

Fuck!

What the fuck have I done?!

Kane.

I look at the door to make sure he’s not here and that his car has definitely left.

He’ll hate me if he knows I’ve killed Asher.

He’ll hate his brother if he knows the truth.

It’s his biggest dream for his family to be together, that one day they’ll stop treating him like shit.

He’s too kind and good to see them for what they are.

I can save him from whatever Asher has planned now.

I turn in a circle, like that can hide his body.

The drinks we piled on the kitchen island are in full view.

I run through the cabin. Taking as many as I can hold in my arms, I drop them beside Asher’s bleeding body.

Some shatter, the flammable liquid splashing up against him and soaking into his polo.

The others aren’t as helpful, and my hands shake as I uncap them.

All the spirits mix together and burn my nose as I douse him in them.

Making another trip, I do the same. Soft buzzing disturbs my harsh breathing. I hold my hand over my mouth and stare at each corner of the cabin. There’s nothing there. The buzzing is coming from Asher.

His jeans are soaked in alcohol and my knees land in the puddle of blood and spirits.

I grimace as I take his phone out of his pocket, but the curiosity of my childhood monster gets the better of me as I see Rowan’s name flashing across the screen.

With my hand over my mouth, I slowly answer, bringing the phone to my ear.

“Have you decided which one of you must die, dear nephew?” a humor-filled voice says.

A sob gets lodged in my throat and I can’t keep it back. They’re going to kill Kane. Fuck that. I can’t copy Asher’s voice, but I deepen my voice and say, “I will. It’ll be done soon.”

I quickly end the call before I can be caught and the tremor in my limbs intensifies along with my curiosity. I have unobstructed access to the one thing Asher is secretive of. I memorized his passwords when he thought I wasn’t looking or too afraid to do anything.

Looking down at his prone body, I slowly click the vault folder he has.

My hands are eerily steady as I input the password, only to see the black lock screen come to life with multiple squares of naked bodies.

I don’t give a fuck if he was watching porn.

I’d have preferred it so he never touched me.

For some reason, I click the middle square, and it plays automatically.

Bile rises up my throat. I can’t keep it back as I watch my twelve-year-old body sway as my father guides me into a room I don’t recognize.

He lays me on a bed, then takes a seat beside it.

Holding his hand in the air, he clicks his fingers like when he wants his wine glass refilled at dinner.

Two men walk into the room and begin undressing me, then themselves.

He, my father, the man who is supposed to protect me, looks up, directly into the lens of the camera he fucking knows is there, and without any emotion he says, “It’s done. The debt has been repaid.”

I lose the battle with my stomach and throw up directly on Asher.

It covers his dick and I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand before I stand.

Dumping his phone on top of him, I look down and silently cry.

Tears fall into my mouth as I say, “I’m going to kill you all.

I couldn’t save myself,”—my voice cracks—“but I’ll be able to save Kane because he’s better than all of us. ”

I take my blood-soaked clothes off and drop them on top of him.

The rest of my clothes and shoes find a home on him and I run to the bathroom at the back of the cabin.

It’s not overlooked by anyone due to the size of the property but the outside drain is what they use when they go hunting, so it won’t raise suspicion to see blood in it.

I fucking refuse to lose a single second more of my life to this cunt. He can rot while I finally live.

As soon as I’ve got the blood off my skin, I check my hair and make sure there’s nothing staining the blonde strands. Thankfully, it’s clean. I take Kane’s t-shirt off the outdoor side table before going back inside.

The smell of alcohol, vomit, and blood are stronger.

But I find every flammable liquid I can and make sure I saturate Asher’s clothes with a trail of the flammables into the fireplace.

Once I’ve run out, I take a long stem match from the mantel and strike it against the stone.

It crackles, and the orange glow is in my periphery as I watch the motherfucker lay in a pool of physical mess.

The match doesn’t burn my fingertips as I dangle it above his body. I want to savor the movement, but the sound of the wooden gates whirring on their motor thread makes me jump and drop the match.

I look through the window to see Kane’s car slowly crawl up the winding driveway.

No.

He was supposed to leave.