Pretty Little Things Page 8

When we got inside the kitchen, Nat looked around, not sure where to go. I pulled open the freezer and grabbed my dad’s bottle of Jack Daniels, holding it up for her to see. She nodded, and I grabbed the soda to chase our shots.

“So,” Nat said as she walked over to the counter and leaned against it as I poured our first round. “Why the sudden change in attitude?”

I didn’t look up at her as I swallowed back the lump forming in my throat. I grabbed my glass and poured it down my throat before refilling it.

“Just a shitty day.” I held up her shot for her, and she took it from my hand as her eyebrows pulled together.

“You’re not gonna get all serious and cry are you?” she joked before drinking back her shot. I rolled my eyes, hating that the one person who would understand wasn’t here. I held up the glass of soda, and Nat drank it down greedily. “God damn. Now that was strong.”

“Don’t say that.” The words tumbled out before I could stop myself. Nat laughed, and I could feel the familiar anger begin to surface.

“Don’t say what? You have got to be kidding me.” She rolled her eyes as I refilled my glass.

“This was a bad idea.” I drank, slamming the glass down a little harder than necessary.

“Hey…come on. I’m sorry. I’ll behave.” She stuck out her lower lip and held her shot glass out to be refilled. I sighed as I poured the amber liquid, sloshing it over her fingers. She emptied her glass again. “What’s wrong?” She had somehow moved closer, and her side was now against mine as she leaned over the counter.

“It’s nothing.”

“I’m serious. I want to know.” Nat placed her warm hand on mine, curling her fingers around mine.

I turned my body toward hers as I took her in through blurred vision. “You think I’m a bad person?”

“What?”

“Never mind,” I groaned and pulled my hand out from under hers. I began to walk around her, but she placed her hand on my bare chest to stop me.

“No. I just mean…How could you think you’re a bad person? I know you like to pick on me and whatever”—she rolled her eyes—“but you were there for me when my pap died.”

I glanced down at her hand and back to her eyes. She wore minimal makeup, but her eyes popped under thick mascara and just the hint of color on her eyelids. “You needed a friend.”

“Well, now you need a friend.” She shrugged as our bodies inched slightly closer. I placed my hand over hers on my chest, pressing it against my heated skin.

“I can’t be fixed,” I said, feeling my heart ache at just the thought of Annie. My gaze fell to her lips, slightly parted as her breathing grew more rapid. She took my other hand and placed it over her own heart, her chest rising and falling rapidly as my palm pressed against the top of her breast.

“Let me try,” she whispered as she pushed up on her toes and pressed her lips against mine. I slid my arm around the small of her back and pulled her body against mine as her hands moved up my neck.

The next hour was a blur of sweat-slicked skin and shaky fingers as we explored each other’s bodies. The night faded to black soon after, as did my soul.

A kick to my leg woke me, and I opened my eyes, trying to focus and take in my surroundings. I was lying on the couch, alone thankfully. I sat up with a groan as I wiped my hand over my mouth, desperate for some water.

“Late night?”

I nodded, grabbing my hat from the floor and pulling it on my head.

“It’s three in the morning. You should head up to bed.”

I nodded again as I stifled a yawn. “You just getting home?” I asked as I glanced around the living room, wondering when Nat had left but thankful she was gone.

“We had a breaking and entering over on Walton and a runaway.” I heard him groan as I climbed the stairs to my room. I fell onto my bed facedown, not bothering to pull down the covers. My head thumped as flashes of last night came flooding back to me. I closed my eyes and forced myself to forget what Nat and I had done. I was right. I couldn’t be fixed.

Chapter 8 - Annabel

“So what is it? You’re a slut, a junkie, your momma forcing you to turn tricks to feed her habits?” Colin asked as he brushed by me, coldness in his eyes.

“What? No. None of those things. I swear.” I tucked my wild honey-blond hair behind my ear as I looked to the ground.

He eyed me suspiciously, and I shrank under his accusatory glare. “It’s got to be something.”

“M-my mom…wanted me to learn to help others in need,” I stuttered, wishing the ground would open up and swallow me whole.

“You’re telling me that you were pulled off the streets and brought here? Kidnapped?”

“Oh God.” My hand flew over my mouth as my heart leapt into my throat. I knew something was wrong. “He’s not going to let us leave, is he?”

He sank down in the chair in front of me, his chin in his hand as he stared at me for an uncomfortably long moment. Why was it bothering him so much that I wasn’t a depraved junkie? And why wasn’t he upset, scared, and wracked with panic right now?

“You can’t even spit out a goddamn sentence. You made it too easy for him.” He shook his head angrily. “Here we don’t pray for the weak—we prey on the weak.”

“Are you staying in bed all day?”

I yawned and stretched before glancing over my shoulder as I lay facedown on my bed. Colin was leaning against the doorframe, his head cocked to the side. “Don’t you ever knock?”

“Close your door if you want me to knock,” he chuckled as he sauntered into my bedroom. “People are going to start showing up soon. Get ready.”

“I don’t feel like it.” I rested my chin on my fist as I stared at my headboard, still wallowing in self-pity over my fight with Jacob. I’d texted him several times asking him to come to the party, and he’d reluctantly agreed, but now I was worried about him meeting my family. Colin’s fingers wrapped around my bare ankle, and he began pulling me toward the foot of the bed.

“Damn it! Let go of me.” I clutched at the comforter as he continued to drag me down the mattress, causing my shirt to ride high on my stomach.

“A lot of work went into this party.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me from the bed as I kicked at him and struggled to pry his arms off me. “So stop acting like a spoiled bitch and get ready.”

“You’re such a jerk!”

He carried me toward the bathroom and put me down inside the shower stall, blocking the doorway as I pounded my fists against his chest.

“This isn’t funny. Let me out of here.”

“There’s the easy way,” he said, and with a wicked grin he reached forward and turned on the water full blast. “And there’s my way.”

“You ass**le!” I pressed myself against the sandstone tile as I struggled to get out from under the cool spray, the oversized white T-shirt I was wearing and my dark-blue panties getting soaked. “I’m still wearing clothes.” The thin fabric clung to my curves, and I knew it immediately had become see-through. My teeth began to chatter, and I gripped either shoulder trying to keep warm.

His gaze drifted over my body as he laughed. “I told you to stop stealing my shirts.” He narrowed his eyes as they settled on my bruised face.

I turned my back to him and peeled the wet fabric from my skin, tossing it over my shoulder as hard as I could. He caught it as it hit his chest, never breaking eye contact.

The doorbell rang, and I jumped, nearly slipping as it startled me.

“You have fifteen minutes.” He closed the door to the shower and disappeared.

Chapter 9 - Colin

I greeted Amanda at the door and took the large wrapped present from her hands, kissing her on the cheek.

“It’s a dress. I thought Annie might want to wear it tonight.”

“Tasteful, I hope.” I looked into her deep, artificially blue eyes.

She gave me a look, and I laughed as I closed the door behind her.

“Where is the birthday girl?”

“Showering. I was just about to run through myself.”

“I see that.” She glanced down at the wet spot on my shirt. “Want some company?” she asked, a coy smile on her lips, her eyebrow raised.

“Come on.” I began to climb the stairs with Amanda behind me. “Set the water. I’m going to put this on her bed.” I carried the package into Annie’s room. I could hear the water still running, and there was a pair of dark-blue panties on the floor outside of the stall.

I dropped the box and closed her bedroom door behind me as I crossed the hall. The water was running in my own bathroom, and Amanda was inside. I stared at her naked silhouette through the fogged glass as I pulled my shirt over my head and slid my jeans down to the floor.

I stepped in behind her, my c**k stiff as I pressed it against her ass with a groan. The last few days had been nothing but stressful. Connor had barely called, and I was on edge for tonight. I needed to relieve some tension.

“Let’s get dirty, and then we can get clean.” I gripped her hips and pushed against her. “Put your hands on the wall.” I ran my lips over her damp shoulder.

“I want to face you.” It was a little late to be modest given the things I had done to her in the past, but she played the part of willing victim well.

“I want you just like this,” I whispered against her ear as I pulled back on her hips, bending her at the waist. “Don’t take your hands off the wall.” With one hand holding her, I grabbed my c**k with the other and positioned myself against her bare entrance. I pushed slowly inside her as I panted against her wet blond hair. She moaned as I pulled back, nearly sliding out of her before slamming against her, hard. She cried out as I pulled her hips back with each rough thrust. Gripping her harder, I used my other hand to cover her mouth, muffling her cries, and her teeth scraping against my flesh only fueled my desire.

I rested my forehead against the top of her head as I held her still, f**king her fast. My breathing was ragged as I struggled to rid my mind of all other thoughts and focus on coming. I wasn’t the type for soft and gentle caresses. I liked angry, violent f**king, and Amanda only wanted to please me. That was why I put up with her mindless bullshit and shallow personality. My feelings for her were as much of an illusion as my public persona. It was easier for me to f**k a stranger than to share my feelings with someone I loved—not that I was even capable.

I growled, gripping hard enough to bruise as I thrust into her one last time, coming hard inside her as her walls gripped me and she found her own release. I struggled to catch my breath as my hand slipped from her mouth and down over her throat as I pressed a kiss into her damp hair.

“Did I hurt you?” I asked between heavy breaths as I brushed her hair from the back of her neck and placed a kiss in between her shoulder blades.

“No.” She was equally breathless.

We washed ourselves quickly and engaged in minimal small talk as we both got dressed for the party.

“It’s a shame your dad couldn’t be here,” Amanda called to me from the bathroom as she fixed her makeup in the mirror.

“Yeah, it is.” I slipped my shoe on and stood to look over myself in the full-length mirror next to my closet, and I saw the reflection of the monster I was raised to be in Taylor’s commune. I hated that part of myself that still lurked below the surface, begging to be let out to play, and I struggled against the demented urges daily.

Amanda came to stand next to me, her hand on my stomach as she smiled at our reflection. “You look handsome.”

I gazed over my dark jeans and black polo shirt. I was in no mood for a suit, and tonight was about making Annie comfortable. Amanda was wearing a black strapless dress that barely covered her ass, and I tried not to let my possessive nature take over. I’ve never been good at sharing my toys.

“Where’s the rest of your dress?” I asked as I ran my finger along her exposed upper thigh.

“I like to keep you jealous so you won’t ever forget how good you have it,” she said with a smirk as she walked to the bedroom door.

I groaned, hating that I had to deal with her little games. “I’m going to grab Annie’s present. I’ll be right down.”

“All right. I’ll go see if she needs help getting ready.” With a smile she left, and I blew out a heavy breath, running my hand over my hair. I turned to face my walk-in closet as I heard Annie and Amanda talking in the hall.

I turned on the light and walked through the racks of clothing to the back where a mahogany dresser was built into the wall. Bending down, I pulled open the bottom drawer, wiggling it free from its track and pulling it all the way out to set it on the floor. The small space below the drawer was where I kept things I didn’t want Grace finding when she cleaned the house. It was all that remained aside from the nightmares and Annie. There were a few old photos, and I smiled as I picked one up of Annie and me. I was always taller than her. Our hands were linked together as she smiled weakly, but her eyes told of heartache, and I wore an angry scowl. The day this picture was taken was seared into my memory.

“It’s not her,” I repeated again to Taylor, who was pacing the floor.

“How do you know if you haven’t tried?” He bent down to my eye level, gripping the arm rests of my chair.

“She’s not a sinner; she’s just a victim of circumstance. She said you forced her to come here.” Trying to hold a rational conversation with an irrational person was frustrating, to say the least. I’d lost my grip on reality years ago, but I still understood the basic concept of right and wrong, even if my actions didn’t reflect that.