Page 19 of Dirty Little Secret (The Devils You Know #1)
He takes beautiful and happy things and molds them into whatever he wants, fitting his vision for himself and his image. And when he realizes he can’t mold or change you, he breaks you and changes how everybody sees you instead.
Kale steps forward, standing an inch away from his father's face. I step up beside him, because if Kalvin fucking Jagger touches a single hair on my boy’s head, he’ll be eating from a fucking straw for the next month.
“You’re upset, so I’m gonna let the fact that you just put our girl and her mother in danger slide.
I can’t speak for the others. I want to make something abundantly clear, Father.
” Kale spits the word father like it’s acid on his tongue, before he continues.
“We don’t give a single flying rat's sweaty fucking asshole what you think of us. We don’t even give a shit about your money.
Correction, our mother’s money. But you can take it all away right fucking now, and we wouldn’t stop you.
The only reason, and I fucking mean it when I say the only reason, we stuck around here after Mom died, was because of that girl who walked through our door no more than a week after losing our mother.
” I reach out and brush a gentle stroke along Kale’s exposed skin of his neck, and he must come back down to earth, because his shoulders loosen, and he almost pushes into my touch.
Reign stands at his brother’s other side, staring daggers at his father.
“We love her, Dad. She makes us happy, and I know that you like to destroy the things that make us happy, but for that to happen, you’d be destroying yourself.
Because you have nothing to gain and everything to lose if you don’t play this right,” Reign says, his voice surprisingly even, and I know it’s only to calm his brother down.
We have seen what Kale is capable of if push comes to shove, and we don’t want to make this something it doesn’t need to be if we can help it.
“Do you think I give a fuck about what you three think love is? You haven’t lived long enough to know how to fucking spell it, let alone feel it.
All you boys ever do is screw and screw and screw until everything is completely fucked.
Well, you’ve fucked the wrong whore this time.
She’s your stepsister. You can’t be together.
And I don’t know what sick, and twisted fucking games you’ve been playing with her, but it ends tonight. Pack your shit.”
Kale tenses beneath my touch, and Reign’s eyes glaze over with something unrecognizable as they stare at their father. Kalvin’s face is red with anger, and I know there’s nothing I can do or say that will hold him back.
“Call her a fucking whore again, I fucking dare you,” Reign growls, his tone not one to be fucked with.
“We’re not leaving without her,” Kale says, his voice calmer than his twin’s, which only makes him sound scarier.
“She's not going anywhere with you. Get your shit and get out!”
“My daughter is not a whore,” a hesitant voice chimes in from our side, a little fragile and uncertain. All our eyes turn to see Karina, staring at her husband like she’d much rather watch paint dry.
“Mom, it's fine–”
“No, Savannah. It isn't fine. I am tired, Kalvin. I am tired of sitting on the sidelines watching you destroy our son’s lives, and subsequently, your own, because you are so filled with hatred and vitriol that you can't recognize how good they truly are. They are star players, and you refuse to watch a single game of theirs. Your excuse? Football is nothing more than a glorified hobby. And Savannah, my baby girl, she is bright, witty, and such a talented artist that I know one day we’ll be seeing her work all over the world.”
“Mom,” Savannah chokes, a mix of emotions rising to the surface at the pride in her mother's voice.
“My daughter is not a whore, and you should be ashamed of yourself.”
“I'll say whatever the damn hell I like in my own fucking house, Karina. Were you not listening? Savannah has been fucking them, all three of them, and my sons might be fucked up, but none of this would have happened if your daughter didn’t fuck everything that moves!”
There’s a second of silence before Reign slams his fist into his father’s jaw, so hard his head snaps sideways. Kalvin stumbles backward and falls to the polished marble floor. Blood spills from his nose and mouth, and the shrill sounds of stressful cries and panic fill the room.
Kale doesn’t hold his brother back as he delivers two more hits, even harder than the first punch, as well as a heavy booted kick to his ribs. Kale doesn’t spare his father a single glance before he reaches out and places a steadying hand on Reign’s shoulder.
Kalvin just laughs a low, maniacal laugh, spitting blood to the floor as he staggers to his feet.
“If you aren’t out by the time I get back, I’ll have all, and I mean all your sorry asses thrown in jail for trespassing,” he says through clenched teeth, his eyes flicking to Karina, then back to us, shaking his head in disdain.
Without another word, he shoulder-checks me as he walks past, grabs his keys from the sideboard, then leaves through the front door, breaking his wife's heart into thousands of tiny irreparable pieces as he leaves.