“I said no one,” he growls, voice croaky and low. “I’ve been using, that’s it.”
“Not what your roommate told me.”
“Fuck him!” he yells, throwing a hand up. “Fuck him. He knows nothing. Neither do you. Just because you’re my twin doesn’t mean you get to come in here and think you can run my life. You fuckin’ can’t.”
Braxton and I have always been close. Always.
So why the fuck is he pushing me away?
I know drugs can cause these sudden mood swings, but it still isn’t like him to be so aggressive, which means whatever he’s into, it’s bad. It’s something he doesn’t want me involved in. It’s something he doesn’t want me to know. I don’t like that, not one fucking bit. And if he thinks I’m going to bail and not get him out of this, then he doesn’t know me at all.
But I think that’s the problem.
He does know me, and he knows I won’t back down.
“Say what you want. One way or another, I’ll be getting to the bottom of this, with or without your fuckin’ help, Braxton. You’re my brother, and you’re in trouble.”
“Will you fuck off!” he roars so loudly a nurse comes rushing in, her eyes wide.
“We’re in a hospital,” she hisses, then turns to me. “If you’re going to upset him, you need to leave.”
“I want him out,” Braxton says. “Get him out.”
The nurse studies me. “Sorry, but you’ll need to go.”
I look at Braxton, and I hold his eyes. “I will find out what the fuck you’re up to, Braxton, rest fuckin’ assured.”
Then I walk out of the hospital, chest rising and falling with angry pants. I reach my truck, swinging the door open so hard it reaches its peak and bounces back. I angrily shove it out of the way and get into the truck, starting it up and taking off. I drive in a rage straight to Braxton’s apartment, getting out and charging up to the front door.
I don’t knock.
I walk in.
Two bodies are going hard at it on the couch. A few moaned grunts can be heard. I walk straight past and into Braxton’s room. I glance around, cringing at the smell. Clearly nobody felt the need to clean the mess. I jerk his sheets off the bed and throw them on the floor, then I start looking around. I open drawers, cupboards, lift the mattress—I will find something.
I find his phone on the floor beside the bed, so I pick it up and shove it into my pocket, then I keep searching. I come up with a few bags of drugs and a few scribbled names on paper. I take it all. Then I scoop his sheets up and walk into the laundry room, shoving them into the machine and turning it on.
Then I get the fuck out of there.
The drive back to my apartment takes about twenty minutes, and the moment I arrive, I jump out of my truck and make short work of moving to the front door.
“Dakoda.”
Sighing, I turn around to see Trisha, a girl I’ve been fucking on and off, coming up my front path. Her ass sways from side to side as she walks. I keep her regular because she’s a good fuck and she has an incredible body. But that will end very quickly if she doesn’t fucking back off with the bullshit. Calling me all the time. Showing up whenever she wants to.
A big fucking no.
“Busy, Trish.”
She stops, crossing her arms over her chest, pushing her tits together. “There’s no need to speak to me like that. You haven’t answered my calls.”
I inwardly growl. “Because. I’m. Fuckin’. Busy.”
She frowns, big lips pouting. “Why are you being so nasty? I’m only here to make you feel good.”
“Don’t feel like feelin’ good today, will call you tomorrow.”
I don’t give her a second glance as I turn and walk into my apartment. I’m not known for being the best man when it comes to women.
I fuck, and I leave.
End of story.
I don’t have time for anything else.
I flick on my lights in my apartment and ignore Trish’s pounding on the door as I flop down onto the couch and start going through Braxton’s phone.
One way or another, I’ll find who he is working for.
And I’ll end the motherfucker.
One way or another.
-5-
NOW – CHARLIE
Soft moaning wakes me from my light, restless sleep. For a minute, I thought maybe I was imagining it, or even dreaming it, but the more I wake up, the more I realize that it isn’t a dream. It’s coming from the living area. I rub my eyes and sit up, tipping my head to the side and listening further. Definitely female, definitely a pleasure moan.
Has Koda got someone here?
And if so, how the hell did he manage that? It isn’t an easy place to find. Which means it must be a woman from the club, because nobody else would know where this place is. I glance at the time—it’s only nine. I’ve barely been asleep an hour and a half. After an extremely awkward dinner, I decided to move to my room and must have fallen asleep. Last time I checked, it was still seven.
I’ve been exhausted lately.
It’s not surprising.
I slide to the side of the bed, shuffling out and putting my feet on the ground. I’m curious, and I want to see who is out there. I probably should give him some privacy, but my mind is never going to allow me to go back to sleep without looking. My heart races as I tiptoe to the door and gently grab the door handle. Will this squeak if I turn it? I can’t remember if it did before, because I wasn’t paying any attention.
The girl gives a loud whimper and I use that to turn the handle. It opens with ease and for a moment, I just hold it there, waiting for another good moan before I push it open. When one comes, I gently ease the door open enough that I can look out. My tummy coils with what I don’t know. Anticipation, maybe? I shouldn’t be doing this, but I can’t help myself.
Part of me wants to see who is here.
But mostly, I want to see him.
Like that.
Bared wide open.
Fucking.
Primal.
Brutal.
My pussy clenches, surprising me.
I’m no stranger to my sexuality; I’m in tune with it more than most women. I’m far from being easy, in fact, I haven’t slept with a good deal of men but I know what I want, and what I like, and I’m not afraid of it. Nor am I afraid to try new things. I’m sexual. And right now, my body is on high alert. The idea of watching someone else, it does something to me.
I shuffle my body close and then peer around the door. For a minute, I can’t see much, I can just hear it. The lights are out, the only thing that’s on are two lamps, lighting the room just enough, but not making it bright. Then I see them. I have to move out a little farther, because my room is just too far to the left. I carefully do that and let my eyes focus.
I swallow.
I have a clear view of the girl on the couch, sprawled on it, legs spread, back arching. She’s blond, pretty by the looks. Incredible body. Big boobs, slim waist, pretty pink pussy. She’s any man’s dream, no doubt. Koda is sitting, sort of half turned, right between her legs. He’s shirtless, but he’s still wearing a pair of cotton shorts that are bulging from his no doubt hard cock.
I glance at his body, and my mouth waters, just a little.
Big. Broad. Bronze. Muscles that are so big, yet so smooth and perfectly fit for him. Tattoos. Everywhere. My eyes focus on one across the top of his back, from shoulder to shoulder. BRAXTON. I wonder who Braxton is. A child? A brother? A friend? Curiosity burns, but my attention is taken back by another feminine moan. My eyes zero in, and I see Koda has two fingers in the girl’s pussy, gently thrusting, with skill and precision. His thumb rubbing over her clit.
Fire explodes between my legs, and the ache becomes almost unbearable. I should be ashamed that I’m so turned on, but I’m not. Watching him, watching the way his fingers are gliding in and out of her, watching her mouth gasp in pleasure, makes my body come alive. I clench my legs, trying to ease the pr
essure, but nothing is working.
My hand moves before I think any more about it.
It slips into my panties, and I find myself wet. I bite my lip to stop from gasping, as I gently begin to rub in small, slow circles. My eyes not moving off Koda. The woman arches higher and higher and then suddenly she gasps out his name and her body shudders. He keeps his fingers working until her body goes limp, and then he removes his fingers and stands, jerking down his boxers.
My lips part, and my eyes get wide at the sight of his massive cock. It’s thick, and hard, and perfect. God. Beautiful. His big hand circles around it, stroking up and down a few times, before he demands gruffly, “Back of the couch, get over it.”
The girl moves, getting onto her knees and bending the front of her body over the back of the couch. I have a better view of her now, and she’s definitely attractive. Koda pulls out a condom from his jeans and tears it open, putting it on, and then he moves behind her, guiding his cock to her entrance, but I can’t see it clearly now. I rub harder, pleasure building like a wave inside my body, it feels so incredibly good, I can’t hold on much longer.
Koda thrusts, the girl whimpers, and I close my eyes for a second, so close my body is trembling. My fingers work harder, and I can hear her crying out as he fills her. Oh, God. My eyes flutter open and meet the most incredible honey-colored eyes I’ve ever seen. Koda is looking right at me. I should jerk my hand back, I should rush away, but my body is exploding with pleasure, a pleasure unlike anything I’ve felt in a long time.
I can’t stop.
I can’t.
Oh, God.
I bite my lip, and my eyelids flutter a little.
Koda holds my eyes.
But he doesn’t stop.
He fucks her hard, hands on her hips, slamming into her. His jaw is tight, his eyes are filled with pleasure, and his body is wound up tight.
It’s the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.
I come.
I can’t hold it back.
My lips part, and I whimper, my knees trembling as my orgasm rips through my body. My free hand clutches the door frame to stop me from toppling over and my body convulses. The whole time, my eyes don’t leave his. His mouth parts slightly, and he makes a rasping sound.
Then he pulls his cock out, rips the condom off, and he comes all over the woman’s back.
I watch in pure, raw fascination as he pumps his cock and his release shoots, strand after strand, over her bronze skin. She’s whimpering, I’m shaking, and Koda is staring at me with a look I’ll never forget. I bite my bottom lip and slip back into the room, my body so swollen and so wound up, I fall onto the bed and stare up at the ceiling.
Panting.
Content.
A little horrified.
How will I ever look him in the eye again?
~*~*~*~
THEN – CHARLIE
I walk to the front door of the big house. It isn’t as big as mine, but it’s still bigger than all the other ones next to it. My hands are shaking, and I know if I don’t do this right, Dad will make me wish I wasn’t born. That’s what he keeps telling me. So, I have to get this right. This is my first house. He went over and over what I had to do. What I had to say.
I won’t forget a single word.
I wouldn’t dare.
I fumble mindlessly with the old, torn shirt I’m wearing. I don’t like the clothes Dad dressed me in, but he said I needed to look like I was really, really broke and from a poor, possibly even homeless family. He even rubbed dirt on my face and into my hair. I feel yucky, and I want to have a bath, but I can’t do any of that until I’ve done what Dad asked me to do.
I reach the front door, and my heart feels funny. It’s beating so fast that I can’t get much air into my lungs. I don’t like how it’s making me feel, and I keep fumbling with my shirt, scared. Maybe I could run away? Just run and never go back to Dad. But he’d find me. He told me he’d find me. He said I can never escape him unless he tells me I can.
I wish he would tell me I can.
I knock on the door. Softly. Maybe if nobody answers, I can go home and have a bath, and read a book, and Dad will see this is a really silly idea.
The door opens.
A man stands in the doorframe, staring down at me. He doesn’t look as scary as I imagined in my head. He’s wearing a suit, like the ones Dad wears when he goes somewhere fancy. He has really dark hair and pretty blue eyes. They look like the sky. He studies me for a moment, and I stare up at him, my voice frozen. What if this is a really nice man and my dad is going to do something really awful to him?
I swallow, and then in a small voice, I croak, “I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m lost, and I can’t find my way home.”
The man stares at me, his eyes scanning over my clothes and then moving back up to my face. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
My heart does a flip flop. No one has ever called me a nice name like that before. Nobody except Mommy, anyway.
“My name is Sally.”
That is the name Dad told me to use. He said, under no circumstances, am I to use my name. Ever.
“And where do you live, Sally?”
I look around, left and right, just like daddy told me to. “I’m ... I’m not really sure where I am. I was with my mom, and then I saw a butterfly and I ran off. Then, I got lost and I kept walking. Now I don’t know where I am. Can I use your phone to call my house?”
The man’s brows go up. “You know your own phone number? How old are you?”
“I’m nearly eight, and yes, Mom told me all kids should know their own phone numbers.”
He nods, seemingly impressed, and then says, “Okay. Come in.”
I slide off my ragged shoes, which also makes the man look happy, and then I follow him into the big house. It smells nice. Like cookies. I wish I could have some cookies. Rebecca bakes them for me when Dad isn’t around, but he says I shouldn’t eat sugar, that I need to stay fit and healthy so I can help him.
Mom always gave me cookies.
“The phone is right in here.”
We go into a big living room, with big red couches, and the man goes over to a phone, handing it to me. I stare down at it, and then start pressing the buttons. Dad says he has a special phone I’m supposed to call. I don’t know what he needs it for, but I heard him talking to someone on the phone saying he can trace things. I don’t know what that means. He answers, anyway, and says, “Are you inside the house?”
We practiced this, too.
“Mommy? I got lost. I’m at a man’s house.”
“After you hang up, you make sure you go to the bathroom and sneak off and find what you can,” Dad orders.
“I d-d-d-don’t think he’s a dangerous man,” I say, glancing at the man, just like Dad told me to.
The man’s eyebrows go up, and he shakes his head. “I won’t hurt you, young lady. Give your mother my address.”
He gives me his address, and I say it on the phone.
“Go. Hurry up,” Dad growls, then hangs up.
“Okay, Mommy, I’ll see you soon.”
I hang up the phone and hand it back to the man. “She’s coming. She said she’ll be here in ten minutes.”
“Very good. Can I get you a glass of water?”
I nod. “Yes. Please. Can I use your bathroom? I had a big milkshake before.”
I squeeze my legs together, just like I was told, and the man nods. “If you walk down that hall, count three doors, you’ll find it on your left. Do you know which side is your left?”
I nod and point to the left.
“Clever girl. I’ll get you some water.”
I walk off down the hall, and when I hear the man go into the kitchen and the door swings closed, I start opening all the doors in the hallway. The first two are bedrooms, and they don’t look like they have anything in them. The third one is a toilet, just like he said. I rush over to the other side and open them, too. I finally come to an office. I slip in.
My heart is making me feel funny, and my stomach is sick, but I hurry, just like Dad said. I go to the desk, and I pick up anything I can find. Any pieces of paper that have names, or phone numbers, or are invoices, which Dad showed me so I knew what they looked like.
I take as much as I can, fold it all up, and stuff it into my pants, and then I rush back out and over the hall to the bathroom. I go inside, shutting the door, and I grab hold of the sink, panting. That was really scary, and I didn’t like it at all. Not one bit. I wash my hands and wet my face, and then make sure the paper is tucked into my pants properly before walking out.
The man is just coming into the hall when I step out, and I flinch when I see him.
He could have caught me.
But he didn’t.
Thank God.
“Everything okay?” he asks me.
“Yes, thank you.”
I move back into the living room and drink the glass of water he gives me. When there is a knock at the door ten minutes later, I rush over and open it. Dad already told me his friend Esther will be pretending she’s my mother for when she needs to come and collect me. He told me he thought everything through.
“Mommy,” I cry, again, just like we practiced.
“Silly, silly girl. Rushing off. I was beside myself! Never do that again,” Esther pretends, hugging me. Then she looks up at the man. “Thank you so much for taking care of her.”
He nods. “My pleasure.”
Then we leave.
The second we get to the car, Esther looks at me. “Your father will be proud.”
She’s wrong.
Dad is never proud.
Never.
-6-
NOW – KODA
I wake up with a raging boner.
She watched me last night fucking Sugar. She stood there, hands in her panties, rubbing her sweet fucking pussy, and watched me fucking another woman. Met a lot of girls in my life; never met one so bold.
She wasn’t ashamed.
Not even close.
And she made sure I knew it.
She let me watch those sweet lips part as she came all over her own hand.