Page 6 of These Monstrous Ties

Kristof. The biggest of the two of them. Blue eyes and arms bigger than both of my legs. Not that that is particularly impressive, considering I’m a stick. But still. I think I know what he’s getting at.

My skin crawls, but I don’t look away from my brother. There’s got to be something human in there still. Something with a shred of compassion.

“Kristof. My sister is yours every night this week. Keep your girl at home. She’syours.” He reiterates the word, and fucking Kristof can’t get the stupid smile off of his face.

I shake my head. “No fucking way.”

Jeremiah sighs, glancing up at the high ceilings of this dead man’s house. He crosses his arms.

“You don’t get to say no,” he finally says, dipping his chin, holding my gaze. The tension in the room is getting thicker. And fear finally begins to set in.Too late, Sid.

I shake my head and make to step back, but he grabs my wrists.

“Get back down there,” he says, nodding toward the body. His grip tightens against my wrists so hard I swear I feel the bones rub together. “Get back down there and lick the blood off of his dick, Sid.”

I swear even Nicolas draws a sharp intake of breath.

“Jamie…” I say, shaking my head, my lip trembling. “You don’t mean that. You don’t want me to do that.” I’m pleading with him, because the anger is gone. Fear is setting in thick and heavy, in my lungs. My bones. My heart.

This is my brother.

God, what happened to us?

“I do want you to, Sid.” He pulls me to his chest, and I place my palms on him, to keep some space between our bodies. He wraps his arms around my back, trying to press me closer, but I push back.

He laughs.

“Do it, or your Kristof’s,” he says, leaning down to kiss my temple.

I shake in his arms.

“No, Jamie.” I only learned of his new name last year. When I learned other things about my brother, too. How he had joined the Unsaints. How he had betrayed them. For me.

He turns his head. I hear footsteps, but I can’t see anything. And then Jeremiah pushes me. Into Kristof’s arms.

They wrap around my body, squeezing me to him.

Jeremiah doesn’t even flinch. Jeremiah, who hasn’t let anyone in our house so much as hug me. Jeremiah. My own goddamn brother.

He only watches as Kristof’s hands rise from my waist, up under hoodie, under the black cotton shirt, to my breasts, cupping them and running his thumbs over my nipples.

I never wear a bra. I don’t have enough for that. I’ve got no curves to speak of. But right now, Kristof doesn’t seem to mind.

My eyes search once more for something human in Jeremiah’s as I feel Kristof harden behind me, his dick pressing into my back.

“Jeremiah...” I whisper.

“You don’t get to say no,” he says, pinning me with his gaze. “When we get back to the house, you’re his for the night.”

But I squirm in Kristof’s grip. I try to step on his foot, as hard as I can in my combat boots. He just laughs. I throw back an elbow and he pins my arms down by my sides, runs his hot tongue up and down my neck.

“Jamie!” I scream, twisting in Kristof’s arms. “Get him off of me!”

My brother only laughs. My hair hangs in my eyes, ash brown and cut to my chin, it’s too thick to see out of. And I can’t move my hands thanks to Kristof. So I don’t have to watch as my own brother says, “If she lasts the night, bring her to my office at dawn.”

And then he walks out of the house, and a minute later Nicolas’s footsteps trail after him. Everyone but Kristof and me. Still in this house.

I thought we’d go back first.