Page 2

CHAPTER 2

ARIELLA

C lutching my towel in one hand and my phone in the other, I strolled from the bathroom to my new bedroom and stopped. I stood in the doorway, letting my gaze sweep over everything.

A full bed in the corner of the room, dressed in grayish-purple linens. White furniture—a nightstand, two half-empty dressers, and a make-up table—stood stark against the plain white walls and dark hardwood floors. It was the complete opposite of Kacie's vibrant room.

They'd completely erased her.

Blowing out a heavy sigh, I tossed my phone on my bed. I couldn't help but feel like I was being punished for something terrible I'd done in a past life. Having to wake up in her room every day and remember that she was not here with me was a heartbreakingly cruel punishment.

The floorboards creaked behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up before I even heard his voice.

"What the fuck are you doing in here?"

My fingers flexed around my towel as I slowly turned, already knowing who I'd see.

Zaiden.

He filled the doorway with his massive body, wearing black joggers that hugged his thick thighs and a white Westbrook Predators t-shirt that clung to his sculpted chest. His dark tattoos trailed down his tanned and toned arms and up his neck. His grayish-blue eyes swept over the room, and his fists clenched at his sides.

"What the fuck are you doing in Kacie's room?"

The muscle beneath his left eye twitched. I stepped back, my heel catching on the edge of the rug. The words formed in my mind, it's my room now, but my throat constricted, holding them hostage. How could I say those words out loud when I barely believed them myself?

He stepped forward. The floorboards groaned beneath his weight, and the distance between us shrank. I caught the scent of his cologne as he moved closer.

"Where are her things?"

I shook my head because it was all I was capable of doing. They hadn't told him they had discarded her things.

"No, what?" He took one step forward, then another. I could see the muscle in his jaw twitching, the storm gathering in his eyes. I backed away, calculating the distance to the door, knowing I'd never make it. My calf hit the bed frame, and I tumbled backward onto the mattress.

"Zaiden." His name escaped my lips as a whisper, a plea, a prayer.

"Don't," he growled. "Get the fuck out of my sister's room."

"I—"

His fingers curled around my arms, digging into flesh. For a heartbeat, we were frozen, his grip tightening, my pulse racing beneath his touch.

"Get the fuck out of my house."

Time seemed to stretch and distort. The rational part of my brain screamed to stay quiet, to simply leave. Yet something deeper, something reckless, pushed his name up my throat.

"Zaiden—" The word escaped as a broken whisper.

His expression darkened. In one fluid motion, he twisted me from the bed. The world spun—ceiling, wall, door frame blurring together—before he shoved me into the hallway.

His face lowered until we were eye to eye, his breath hot against my cheek. His chest pressed against mine, each inhale pushing me further into the wooden handrail. The spindles creaked behind me.

"If you say my name again, I'll hurl you over this banister."

My heart stuttered. The drop behind me suddenly seemed vast, dizzying. My gaze flicked downward to the first floor, the hardwood far below swimming in my vision. My fingers found the edge of the railing and gripped until my knuckles whitened.

Would he actually do it? The rage in his eyes suggested he might.

I swallowed hard, my voice emerging thin and unsteady. "Please let me explain."

"Explain what, Ariella?" His lip curled into a snarl. "How you got my sister killed? Or how you've moved in like you think you're going to replace her."

I shook my head. "No. I would never?—"

"Get the fuck out," he roared, but his grip on me only tightened. Each finger dug deeper into my skin.

"Zaiden—" I whispered, immediately regretting the sound.

His breathing stopped.

"What the fuck did I tell you?" The words came out eerily calm now. Then movement, swift, calculated. He spun me around in one fluid motion that left me breathless. My back pressed against his front, the cold wooden banister digging into my hips, his body a wall behind me. His hand found my wet hair, tangled in it, and then slowly, he pushed me forward until my upper body hung over the rail, nothing but his grip keeping me from falling.

"Please," I pleaded, scrambling to reach back for the railing to catch my fall if he decided to let me go.

He jerked me back by my hair.

I cried out, pain shooting across my scalp.

"Please, what?" His voice was deceptively soft.

The pressure on my hips released. A fleeting moment of relief. He was stopping. He was coming to his senses.

Then—a violent tug. The towel ripped away from my body. Cold air rushed against my exposed skin. My stomach dropped as realization hit: this wasn't over.

I struggled to grab it back, but his hand tightened in my hair, shoving me forward again. He pressed his hip hard against me, pinning me tighter than before so my feet weren't touching the floor anymore and pushing his hard length between my ass cheeks. "I said, please, what?"

"Please, let me go." I cried out. "It's not what you think, I swear."

He ground his thickness firmly into my ass. He grunted, stepping back, and I hissed as a sharp pain shot through my scalp as he snatched me back by my hair. My hands flew up over my head, gripping his wrist, trying to ease the ache. His free hand slid over my hip from behind and down between my thighs, sliding through my folds. "You're so fucking wet. Does this turn you on?" He pulled his hand free, coated in my arousal, and brought his fingers to my lips. "Open."

What the actual fuck?

I shook my head.

"Open your fucking mouth," he grunted against my ear, tightening the grip on my hair.

"Okay," I whimpered, easing my mouth open as he slid his two thick, wet middle fingers between my lips.

"Suck." I did as I was told and sucked them clean as he moved them in and out, each time going deeper until I gagged. "Does this turn you on, you dirty slut." I assumed it was a rhetorical question, considering he had my mouth full. My small hands wrapped around his wrist as he shoved his fingers deeper.

I hummed a plea for mercy, gagging around him as I desperately tried to pull him out of my throat. "It's bad enough I have to share a house with your whore of a mother." He pulled them from my mouth, and I gasped for air as he released my hair and shoved me forward toward the staircase. "Does it turn you on moving in here and replacing my sister?"

My hands flew up, attempting to cover myself as his heated, dark gaze swept over me. "I don't want to be here any more than you want me here."

"Then get the fuck out." He stepped forward, backing me toward the staircases.

"Fine," I muttered, my gaze fixed on the white towel crumpled on the floor behind him. "Give me my towel, and I'll go."

The corner of his mouth lifted—not a smile, but something darker.

He shook his head. "Not a chance."

The gap between us seemed to shrink without either of us moving.

In the hallway mirror behind him, I caught a glimpse of my face—pale, wide-eyed, exposed. He charged forward like a predator who knew his prey was cornered.

I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for impact, for the sensation of falling down the stairs. Instead, I was lifted, my stomach dropping as he hoisted me over his shoulder. Each thundering step down the stairs jolted through my body. The cold air hit me first, then the rough wood of the porch against my bare skin as he dropped me outside.

"If you ever come back here, I'll make you regret every decision you've made since the night Kacie died."

He slammed the door, leaving me on the front porch naked, freezing, and furious.

I scrambled to my feet as the wind picked up, raising goosebumps across my exposed skin. I pressed my palms against my eyes until I saw stars, willing the tears back as my entire body vibrated with a mixture of fury and humiliation.

He'd caught me off guard. A mistake I wouldn't repeat.

I looked up at Kacie's old window, which was my window now. I hugged myself tighter, my anger crystallizing into something colder.

Next time, and there would be a next time, I'd be ready.

For now, though, I needed to get back inside before someone saw me standing naked on the front porch. I rushed around the house, stopping at the door to the garage, and tried the knob, releasing a heavy sigh when it twisted open.

Now, I had to wait for him to leave.