Page 20 of Distorted Obsession (The Distorted Trilogy #1)

cooper

How the fuck did Portia get access to the videos?

“I’m going to kill that vile bitch when I get my hands on her,” Colter screams as I climb the stairs.

The sounds of glass ricocheting against something before it shatters follow my ascent. I want to share in my brother’s rage, but I need to check the damn cameras.

Portia gained access to something she shouldn’t have been able to, and for that alone, her time at Groveton was finished. But for what she said about Farrah?—

Her words replay as I enter my bedroom. “Do you want me to dig Farrah up for you? I’m sure dirt pussy is all the rave these days.”

—she’s dead. How and when it’ll happen is still up for debate. Portia doesn’t get to breathe while my sister is eternally asleep.

Sitting in my chair, I power on my computer, enter the password, and bring up the house’s surveillance videos. Then I bring up the footage from a few days ago, fast-forwarding to the time Colter and I were playing spliced recordings of Farrah’s voice to fuck with Eva.

Our room door is closed as we watch Eva enter her room after punching the shit out of Liam for assaulting her. I smirk, remembering the spark that temporarily lit in her soft-brown eyes.

Guilt roils in my stomach at the way it fizzles out when she hears my sister’s voice.

Pain etches itself into every fiber of my being, and I’m once again conflicted.

She needs to pay for the domino effect she set off, but the urge to protect the person my sister loved and we considered family chips at the barrier of my vengeance.

Colt and I are so focused on her that neither of us heard Portia’s arrival. I watch as she freely roams upstairs like she belongs there. I see the moment she becomes aware of where we are.

Creeping closer, Portia leans in to listen. A smarmy smile paints her face as she pulls out her cell phone and begins recording.

“Fuck,” I shout when I realize that Colter and I were so enthralled with our thirst to hurt Eva that we left ourselves exposed.

My room door bursts open. “What did you find, Coop? Tell me we have what we need to fricassee that cunt.”

Ignoring his question, I continue to stare at the glee on Portia’s face. Once Jade enters Eva’s room to snap her from devolving, Portia carefully descends the stairs. I switch camera angles to watch as she exits through the patio door.

“How the hell didn’t we know the back wasn’t secured?” I mutter.

“It is,” Colter replies. “Pull up camera five and start from the beginning of that day.”

Following his instructions, I play the footage. My mouth drops when I see Portia waltz in with Thaddeus. She’s hanging off his arm, running her hands up his chest. They stop in the entryway, and he squeezes her tits.

“Get down and blow,” he commands.

Batting her eyelashes like some offered fair maiden, she stutters, “Here in the hallway?”

“Stop acting bashful. You literally were fucking someone against the front door while we watched yesterday.”

The innocence bleeds from Portia’s demeanor when her act of being coy falls flat. “Fine,” she snaps, sinking to her knees as she unzips his jeans.

“Skip this shit,” Colter orders. “The last thing I want to see right now is Thad’s micro dick.”

Nodding, I lower my finger to click fast forward.

“Wait,” my brother shouts as his hand shoots out, gripping my forearm to halt my movement. “Look.”

My gaze flicks up in time to see Thad’s head lean back as he groans. “I thought you didn’t want to see this part?”

“You missed it. Rewind and play it in slow motion,” Colt demands.

Replaying the video, my eyes bulge. “She… she… she—” I stutter, unable to finish my sentence.

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 is easily 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.”

“All of the above, Coop. The answer is all of the above,” Colter growls.

I’m sure there should be some sympathy for Portia being beaten, but I can’t find even a mustard seed of it. Instead, the call for her death multiplies infinitely.

Colter and I finish watching the footage, notating Thad’s and Portia’s every movement throughout our condo.

Slipping my phone from my pocket, I make a call.

“Coop?” I hear the question in his tone. “Didn’t Lev just leave you two? Don’t tell me you mucked it all up already?” he quips.

Too angry to joke, I retort, “Do you and Owen want to play a game?”

Because someone needs to pay, and we have questions that need to be answered.

The line is quiet, but I know I have him. It’s been a while since we’ve initiated a game.

“Time and location?” he asks, amusement infused into his response.

Smiling, I reply, “Tomorrow night.”

“We’ll be there.”

“Oh, and Wyatt, we’re going to play with our food first,” I blurt. He’s cackling down the line as I end the call.