Vicious Punks by Madeline Fay
Tey
Smoke drifts in front of my face as I grin lazily up at the ceiling, blocking out the noises from downstairs. A typical Thursday morning in the hood, living in a foster home with multiple people never gives you a moment of peace. It’s six in the morning, and already I can hear Mickey’s purple, custom Monte Carlo bumping down the block with his music blaring. I should have stayed at Logan’s last night, but the need to shove my cock into my sugar plum was too strong. What I wouldn’t give to watch her bleed for just me. My knife slicing through her delicate golden skin as she takes every pierced inch of my hard cock. I bet she would like it, too.
“Tey! Is that weed I’m smelling?” Belva yells in a slur through my door, making me roll my eyes.
I’ll never understand why she comes up here to nag at me through the door and asks that question every day. My supply of weed is strong, only the best, so yeah you’re going to fucking smell it. With a long sigh, I sit up on the side of my bed and search at my feet for my cologne. Finding it under the bed, I spray it a few times and take one more drag, with billows of smoke clouding my room, before tossing my joint out the open window.
“You better not be smoking in my house, you little shit.” She bangs on the door, rattling the handle as she tries to come in.
“Sorry, Auntie Belva, I can’t hear you. Gotta go!” I bellow back at her, chuckling in amusement as she curses on the other side.
She really gets on my fucking nerves, always insisting that I call herAuntie Belva, even though she’s just my foster mom. I think the old bitch gets her jollies off by bossing around a younger stud such as myself. She’s currently demanding that I open the door, but I’m kind of busy looking around for my unicorn. Can’t forget the little guy. Running my hand through my hair, I swing my gaze around until the rainbow colored tail catches my attention from under one of the pillows.
My unicorn’s been through a lot with me. Foster home after foster home, fifteen in total since my mom overdosed, and dad was already out of the picture, as far as I can remember. Prison, maybe? Who knows? Ever since my prostitute of a mother died, nothing has been mine. Precious items stolen or lost after a new move and now this small stuffed animal is all I’ve got left. I’ll fucking carry it everywhere, never out of sight because it’s all I have left. A little girl named Madison gave it to me as I watched her get adopted, climbing into her new family car and leaving me standing on the front porch of another foster home once again alone. No one ever wanted the quiet, crazy blue eyed little boy who stared into your soul until you had no choice but to look away first. I’ll cut anyone into tiny pieces, and feed them to the birds at the park if they try to take my unicorn away from me.
Since my doorway is currently being blocked by a raging alcoholic, I decide the bedroom window is the best exit. I’m too tired to deal with Belva’s shit this morning, or the miserable looks of the rest of the foster kids staring at the TV downstairs. I have less than half a year left here before I can leave and get out of the system, but I told myself I’d stick it out until after high school. It’s the least I can do for the kids by keeping an eye out for them and making sure there's food on the table, since Belva has an obsession with the liquor store down the street. But just for today, I need to get out without worrying about someone else… just today.
I shove my boots on, sliding my precious knife in next to my right ankle and my cigarette pack in my mouth, as I smoothly jump out the first story window. Once outside, I grab my knife from my boot and spin the blade on my fingertips to give my hands something to do. Belva’s house isn’t in the best neighborhood, houses line close together down the street, falling apart after years of neglect. Brown lawns are littered with junk and gang members sit outside on their stoops or on the couches placed in their front yard to watch who comes up and down the street. The good thing is everyone knows not to mess with the blond haired angel who won’t hesitate to kill you. I’m kind of a celebrity around these parts it would seem. Every gang knows who I run with, my reputation.
I’m from the streets myself, born into a hard life, and I’ve earned respect from others by keeping my mouth shut… while causing the fear of Tey into them. I chuckle to myself, thinking about that one time the cartel sent one of their minions to get the drop on me, but it just ended badly for the other guy. Always remember to check a person for any extra weapons on their body, or you’ll end up with a knife up the ass. Literally.
Good times.
I think Dom, the new leader of the fucking cartel gang, La Demonio, on the east side coast got the message when I sent their little friend back in a body bag. He’s messing with the wrong people, a history he shouldn’t repeat like his pops did. If it wasn’t for the missing money and timing, I’d believe our little Latina that she’s innocent in all this. Too bad she might be working for Dom, or spying for her Demon Jokers. There’s always someone trying to claim power and you have to take out the one who’s at the top first. Maybe it’s time we took a trip to the east side and had a little talk with Dom. Just have to control Logan while we visit since Dom's father is the one who murdered Helen. At least Jin, Nicky's father stepped in and helped Franco get his revenge. The police department was doing jackshit to help their own officer. I wonder if Jin saw it as an opportunity to go under the radar and help a rookie cop, who was going places, up the ladder on his side. A bond formed and here we are years later.
I’m really glad Nicky hasn’t turned out like Jin. That fucker is manipulative and colder than a dead fish. Just thinking about Nicky brings a smirk to my face. He’s an idiot, but my idiot. He’s real good at hiding his feelings but not from me. He wants things he shouldn’t because deep down Nicky is just like me. He wants to take and take until he can’t breathe anymore, choking on that last breath as he puts one foot in front of the other, and he tries to hide behind with the cold expression he likes to wear. It was the way he was gazing down at Tillie as she sucked his tattooed cock into her pretty little mouth that told me his needs. He could glare all he wanted, but I saw a lot more that he tried hiding. The way his cock twitched as soon as her luscious lips touched the tip of him, his eyes squeezing tight for a split second, and his shirt molding to his abs as he sucked in a breath when she glared right back up at him. That image has been on repeat in my mind since the crack of dawn. The moment I got home, my zipper was down and cock out in my hand with the image of Tillie between Nicky and I. Lately, I’ve noticed more and more how Nicky looks at me when he thinks I’m not looking. I purposely play with my lip ring when I catch him staring at my mouth like he wants to bite it. Maybe he’ll want to play games with me and Tillie?
“Young man, you better be hurrying to school,” a familiar voice calls behind me, making me smirk at the strong tone she uses even though she’s seventy years old and only half my height.
“Of course, Miss Rita. You know I’m all about those good grades and school spirit.” She cackles from her porch, setting down her Coca-Cola and fanning herself with a piece of paper as she gazes at me through her thick glasses.
I don’t think she can see well because I highly doubt that she’d be talking to me. One look at me and most can tell there’s something not right with me, a loose screw. It could be my eyes, I’ve been told that it looks like I’m gazing right past the layer of skin and into a person's soul. My hair is a dead giveaway when I’m roaming late at night around the block, the Gods really cursed me with bright as fuck blond hair. It's hard to hide blood in these locks after a night of killing, but I usually pretend it’s not here as I smile and wave to anyone walking past me. I do try casually to blend in with the shadows as much as possible, black clothes, silent boots, but anyone who really looks at me closely can see the dark side of me that has you stepping back. I’m not talking about my black nail polish or the eyeliner I put on to make my blue eyes pop to scare the shit out of you. I’m talking about the way I walk, watching everyone around me without ever taking my gaze off anyone for a split second.
"You're a troublemaker, boy. Those who try, succeed in life. Don't want the law to come knocking at your door now, do you?" She squints at me, adjusting her glasses, and misses me sliding my knife back into my boot.
If it was anyone else, I wouldn't hesitate to come back later at night and smother them with their pillow, but not Miss Rita. She's a blind, old bat that seems to really care what happens around her and she looks after the kids in the neighborhood. I’ve caught her a handful of times beating little shit drug dealers off my street with just a slipper as they tried to sell to the kids. Not on my turf, I don’t want the foster kids to end up like me. They deserve a better life, where they aren’t broken. Just when I'm about to reply, the loud noise of an engine approaches from behind me but I don't bother turning around because I'd recognize that sound anywhere.
"Don't worry, Miss. Tey is going to school right now. I'll make sure of it," Nicky's throaty voice rumbles, his slight accent peaking through, but he'll deny it.
I personally think it's hot how deep his voice gets when he starts speaking Japanese. It always makes me want to grab him by the back of his neck and have his lips slide against mine, so I can feel the rumble of his voice instead of hearing it. Turning around, Nicky is staring straight ahead and pretending like he didn't go out of his way to come pick me up when I never asked him to. He's always tight lipped, his shoulders straight in that white button down long sleeved shirt, and black ironed pants sculpted to his thighs.
Why does he do this to me?
I've tried my hardest over the last couple of years to give him space until he's ready to admit he wants me, but it's been like pulling teeth. I'd rather pull teeth than wait around for him to come to terms that it's okay to like your best friend. Feelings can deepen. I wonder if my sweet sugar pie can convince him to let go. Tillie doesn't know it yet, but she's one of us. I've seen enough fucked up stuff to last me a lifetime that I can recognize it in someone else. It's how I decide if someone lives or dies.
"You boys be good, no causing any trouble!" Miss Rita shoos me away with a wave of her hand before leaning back in her chair to look up and down the street.
"Always." I grin widely and open the door to the green Camaro, smoothly sliding in with ease onto the leather seats.
Nicky punches on the gas, the tires screeching down the street within seconds and that tells me enough that he's itching to race soon. We all have our hardships, a home that we wish we didn't have, so we find an escape any way we can, just to feel like we belong somewhere. Mine just happens to be addictions. Currently, it's weed and a little hand in gambling, but it might just be changing for my Tillie. She's already mine. If we have to kill her, I’ll claim that shit so even when she’s dead I can tell everyone that I had her last breath. She can't leave that easily, there's no escaping me.
"What did you do?" Nicky asks, turning his head slightly to glance at me with his brow raised as he looks me up and down with suspicion.
"I don't know what you're talking about." I bite my bottom lip, playing with the piercing there and catch him looking before quickly glancing away… as if I wouldn’t notice.
"You were practically skipping down the street and smiling like the joker. And what have I told you about calling me? I'll come pick you up, but instead you make me stalk your ass." His voice is authoritative as he glances out the front windshield, looking lost in thought as he shakes his head and slides his fingers through his shoulder length hair.
I don't like when he gets that faraway look. Usually, it means something happened at home, but I'm not going to pry. I'll let him talk when he's ready to, he'll close up like a clam if I try digging it out of him. We’ve been there before and it took months for him to stop giving me the cold shoulder. Sometimes I wonder if he's made of marble and how I can chip away at it when his father just keeps hardening him.
"How was it?" I ask, gazing out the window to see the highway signs pass as we head to Logan's house to pick up my plaything.
"How was what?" He questions in confusion, his almond shaped, emerald eyes meeting mine when I glance over with a smirk.
"My ass. How was it from behind?" I chuckle as the car swerves off the road for a second before he straightens the wheel.
He clears his throat a few times, shuffling in his seat as he glances over at me a few times with a faint blush staining his cheeks. Well, shit. I think I embarrassed him. That never happens. I decide to take mercy on him by changing the subject.
"How is the research goin-" I choke on my own spit as he starts talking at the same time.
"It was a good view." he says so quietly under his breath that I don't think I was supposed to catch it. He quickly whips his head around to look at me and his lips twitch before he glances back at the road, putting a little more pressure on the gas. "What were you saying?" he asks casually, and I decide to roll with it before he closes himself off from me again.
Maybe those feelings he locks up so tight might be ready to come out soon. I'm going to paint him and Tillie with my favorite color soon. Red. Bright red. I can hardly wait, it makes my fingers twitch with the need.
"How is your research going with Tillie's background and the list of people Franco gave you?" I ask, pulling a joint out from behind my ear that was hidden by my hair and playing with it as I try to make up my mind if I should smoke again.
I need a smoke. The sexual tension is getting to me lately. I'm only seconds away from saying fuck it and slamming my lips against his. We finally pull onto Logan’s street, making my leg bounce in excitement. It's only been a couple of hours, but I'm excited to see how she's handling everything. Has she made a run for it yet? God. I hope she runs, I bet she's a sprinter. I love a good game of cat and mouse.
"Nothing is coming up. It's like she's not in the system. She has a school record that showed me absolutely nothing. She kept her nose down and got good grades, enough to pass, but nothing stands out." Nicky's lip curls in frustration, his sharp jawline hardening as he grinds his teeth.
He doesn't like how he can't dig up her past because everyone has a past that they try hiding. Something isn't right. He should have been able to find something on her. His hacking skills are good enough that he could probably hack into the Pentagon... he might have already done that once as a test drive, but then again I was probably drunk off my ass at the time. The drunk phrase is a little blurry.
"What about the others? Anything? It's about the Demon Jokers, right?" I ask, taking a deep breath before putting the joint back behind my ear for an emergency.
He parks the car in Logan's driveway and cuts the engine before slapping his hand against the steering wheel repeatedly. I just sit back and wait until he's done. Sometimes when you bottle all that rage up, it explodes at random times that you can't control it. That's why I never keep it under lock and key, I let my crazy show.
"Yes. I found some stuff that I need to let Logan know, before telling Franco." Nicky finally calms down, tying his black hair back away from his face, and opening the door to get out.
Franco may be the boss around here, but Logan is where our loyalty lies. Franco is slowly losing it. Ever since Helen died he's just become a broken man and he won't ever find that piece he lost with Diana. He can try as hard as he wants, but it's impossible. I'm observant that way.
"Fuck it. Let's go find Logan, but I need to find my bae first. I want to play for a few minutes." I smile wickedly, watching his eyes widening, pupils dilating.
I bet he's picturing his cock slipping past her lips again. It was a sight to remember that's for sure, and that girl can suck like no other even when she pretends to hate it. Patting my pocket to make sure my unicorn is there, I get out of the car and practically run into the house without knocking. We are past that point of pretending I’m not in Logan’s house all the time, I have a key. They can't keep me out.
"I'm going to get Logan. Dalton should be here any minute," Nicky says, walking away with his hands in his pants pockets and climbing the stairs on long limbs as I stroll behind him slowly.
I'm about to follow him up the stairs to Tillie’s room, but something catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. Glancing into the living room, I spot movement and see in the mirror above the fireplace a reflection that's up to no good. In the mirror, it shows Tillie sneaking down the hallway that leads to the master bedroom and Franco's office. Now, what could she be up to? On silent feet, I follow after her until I'm only a few feet away from her as she pauses outside of Franco and Diana’s bedroom. She should really be careful, anyone could sneak up on her.
I'm about to ask her what she's up to but a breathless moan stops me. I step closer until my black t-shirt is almost skimming her back and peek over her shoulder through the cracked door.
Well, well. It looks like Dalton isn't the only one who likes to watch people, but then again, she isn't gripping her breasts in pleasure or slipping her fingers into her panties. I don't blame her. Watching your parent get fucked from behind could scar you for life. I wouldn’t know, but I’m betting it does some damage. I glance down at Tillie and it looks like she's barely breathing as she stares straight ahead but her fingers are trembling by her sides. I follow her gaze and catch sight of Franco staring right at her, not breaking eye contact as he fucks her mom who won't shut the fuck up as she moans like a pig.
It's almost like Tillie isn't even really here when I look down at her. Her gaze is locked on Franco with wide eyes as if she can’t stop staring, even though she wants to look away. The blood drains from her face and I swear she’s muttering the word no in quick hard breaths. Slipping my hand around her waist, she jumps in my grip as I slide my hand over the skin between her shirt and jeans. She glances up at me over her shoulder with dark brown eyes, wide and distant looking. I've been there before. Sometimes you see something that reminds you of the past and it traps you into a memory you wish you didn't have. Reaching around her with my other hand, I glance away from her and lock eyes with Franco who hasn't paused the whole time. I don't like how he's looking at her. She's not his.
Mine. My plaything.
I slam the door so hard that it rattles against the frame and I'm roughly dragging her away down the hall before she can blink. My emotions come out that I try desperately to keep contained in a locked box. Anger isn't something I experience a lot... that could be because I'm always absorbed in my addictions. I currently feel like my heart is going to explode out of my chest.
Fucking Franco.
Why was he staring at her like he was imagining fucking her instead of his wife? I wonder if it would upset Logan if I twisted my knife into his father's gut and watched everything spill out until he took his last breath.
"Let the fuck go, Tey!" Tillie seems to unfreeze and starts struggling against me as I make her walk in front of me with my arm still around her waist.
I lift her off her feet to carry her to the living room as she resists me, making my cock hard as her bouncy ass keeps rubbing back and forth right on the front of my jeans. Dalton chooses that moment to walk through the front door, looking down at his healed over scabbed knuckles in annoyance. He quickly glances up as Tillie starts cussing me out, a smile slowly coming over his face. He leans against the living room wall, his eyes sweeping up and down Tillie's body. She's completely oblivious as to how much her struggling in my arms turns me on, and the show she's putting on for Dalton. It's a nice side effect, being angry and horny. Just makes me more blood thirsty, an overwhelming urge to fuck her senseless. I hunch my shoulders, bending over her so that she can't miss how hard I am. She stops suddenly, her panting breath loud, and her hair a mess, blocking her view of Dalton in front of her. I tighten my arm around her stomach and whisper into the shell of her ear.
"Keep struggling, hellcat. Give me an excuse to bend you over the couch and fuck your tight ass. I bet Dalton would enjoy it too, he does have the perfect view." She sucks in a sharp breath and quickly whips her head back to look up, but in the process smacks her skull into my nose.
"Fuckkkk!" I groan into her ear, feeling the blood starting to drip from my nose and land on her white Adidas t-shirt.
She slips out of my arms and spins around to glare up at me with an annoyed scowl. Before I can lunge at her and ask her to make me bleed more, she surprises me by doing the unexpected. I thought she'd come at me swinging because she's scrappy like that. Instead, she steps closer until her feet touch my boots and reaches her hand up to pinch the bridge of my nose to stop the bleeding.
I freeze, gazing down at her in wonder with my hands fisted at my sides. I’d like nothing more than to grab her hips and bring her curvy body against mine. I watch my blood trail down her wrist, over her veins that are pounding fast, and have to look up slowly at Dalton to have him get her away from me before I lose it.
"Little bitch, are you that desperate to suck Tey's cock? I know you missed the chance last night but I'm more than ready to have you on your knees in front of me again," Dalton drawls out, grinning the whole time. His smile widening as she looks over her shoulder with narrowed eyes.
She doesn't realize but her fingers tighten on my nose, causing a shock of pain to travel through my body. I can't contain the pleasurable shiver down my spine as I smile widely at her, not giving a damn if blood stains my teeth. You figure I’d rather be stabbing people left and right because I, well, like to watch their eyes go empty, for them to feel what I do inside. But that’s not the case with Tillie... I’m starting to like our little spy. I mean, I still want to see her bleed, but only for me.
"That's the last time you'll ever force me to my knees." She actually growls at Dalton and turns back towards me with a frown as she looks up at me to see how tight she's pinching my nose.
She releases me quickly as the blood stops flowing and spins on her heels to leave the room, shoving past Dalton to knock her shoulder against his. I like it when she's angry, you can tell she's trying to hide all that pent up rage behind a mask, pretending to be calm when in reality she’s anything but. No one fools me when it comes to any kind of pain, including anger. She stomps up the stairs, muttering under her breath, and doesn't even notice Nicky and Logan coming down the steps in front of her. She pulls her shirt away from her chest, cursing under her breath at the blood staining the white material, and whips it over her head without slowing her angry stride.
"What is wrong with you now? Why is there bloo-" Logan starts to say but is cut off when she throws her shirt in his stunned face and rushes up the rest of the stairs until it's just the four of us.
Nicky pauses on the steps, looking at where she disappeared to with a wrinkled brow. I wonder if he's just noticing the scars that litter her body. Most of the puckered scars are covered with tattoos but in the right lighting, they stand out against her caramel skin. I noticed them last night in the garage as I stood back and watched. Nicky shakes his head and carries on down the stairs with an annoyed Logan, who clenches her shirt in his fists. Nicky leans against the mantle as usual, he's looking down at the top of his hands before fisting them at his sides with his jaw locked in place. Nicky's hands are also littered with small scars from years of having a cane whacked there for lessons in obedience and pain tolerance.
"She keeps giving that sass and all it makes me want to do is shove my cock in her mouth to shut her up," Dalton says with a groan, biting his knuckle as his eyes shift towards the stairs like he might just go do that.
"Focus. You can play later. While she's changing, Nicky, tell us what you found." Logan smacks the back of Dalton's head as he passes him and sits on the back of the couch, finishing buttoning his cuff links while huffing under his breath in annoyance.
I don't know why he and Nicky insist on dressing in button downs and slacks, but I guess it works for them. Coming from rich families sets a high standard that society expects, dressing the part that screams of wealth since money flows right into their bank accounts. I usually just say fuck it and wear black, that way it matches my soul.
"Nothing on Tillie came up, she's almost like a ghost. No parents on the registration. Doesn’t even state who her mother is, it could be a possibility that she isn’t Diana's daughter. Maybe she was sent here to trick us into believing that her dead daughter came back from the grave.” Nicky pauses to clear his throat, strumming his fingers on the mantle, lost in thought before he shakes his head. “As for the other two Franco told me to research, it showed up right away in the system. A long background, dating back to the late seventies.” Nicky looks to me and nods his head towards the hallway leading to Franco's office, telling me without words to be the lookout, but what he doesn't know is Franco is otherwise busy at the moment.
That son of a bitch.
Now I’m angry again at that reminder.
I walk to the entrance of the living room to get a clear view of the hallway, plotting all kinds of ways I can kill Franco but still listening to Nicky at the same time. I ignore the weird look Dalton is giving me, I’ll explain in a little bit and see if anyone wants to join me in getting rid of the body.
“The first name I searched for was the Demon Jokers President, Payne Lorzen. Born in nineteen sixty-three, Las Vegas, Nevada. Started dipping his hands into armed robbery and stealing vehicles at a young age. This guy has a record a mile long for abuse, rape, stealing, breaking and entering, illegal weaponery, but most went under the table because he was never charged. Spent a few years in prison but was released after a short time and his father passed away not long after. He took over the spot as Prez and the rest is history,” Nicky states casually, it’s not something we haven’t seen or heard before.
“Interesting. Dalton, did you talk to your old man?” Logan crosses his arms with his dark brow raised as Dalton rolls his eyes and tugs on his cut to straighten it while cracking his neck.
“Yeah, he had a few words to say, but it was more than enough,” Dalton says slowly, giving me a pleading glance to help him out with his pretty boy looks, but nope.
He’s on his own with this one. It’s way too early to get Logan mad and for once it’s not me. He narrows his violet eyes at me and sighs before gazing at Logan with a grimace. I’m thinking I need a better spot for the shitshow that’s about to happen. Wish I had some popcorn. I move back to my comfy position on the living room floor and lay down with my arms behind my head. Fuck being the lookout for Franco, he’s fucking his wife at the moment.
“He said that no good, fucking dickless asshole is a waste of space and he wouldn’t let his daughter near him if he had one. Or a sweetbutt or his granny who’s dead.” Dalton bites his lip and straightens to his full height when Logan stands from the couch with clenched fists.
“That’s all he said? He didn’t give you a reason?” Logan grinds out through his teeth, looking like he’s about to start choking Dalton if he doesn’t give him an answer.
“Nope,” Dalton replies back, popping the p just to annoy Logan.
“And what about the other name Franco told you to look up, Nicky?” I ask lazily from my spot on the floor to distract them before one of them explodes into a match of yelling that won’t stop until someone is bleeding.
I personally just want as much information as I can get about Tillie. It’s like my stalker mode has been activated and I’m addicted enough that it’s almost unhealthy.
“Regan Lorzen aka Rig. Vice President of the Demon Jokers and brother to Payne. Same background but no sexual assault on his record. Seems the brothers started out young getting into trouble with the law, anything Payne went down for… Rig was right there with him. But nothing is showing up on his record or accounts for a few years now. It’s like he just disappeared one day,” Nicky’s voice trails off as he glances towards the stairs and pushes off the mantle quickly as if he’s going to bolt over the furniture at whatever he sees.
I sit up and see Tillie standing behind Logan and Dalton looking like she’s seen a ghost. Her big brown eyes have a distant gaze to them as she stares at Nicky with her bottom lip slightly trembling, until she bites down hard on it to stop herself from showing any kind of weakness. I like that about her, too.
The guys stop talking and turn to glance at her in the archway. She’s changed into a white sundress with small sunflowers woven into the fabric, it fits her like a glove and stands out against her smooth tan skin. It’s the dress Nicky picked out by himself for her when we were at the mall.
“That’s all you found out about Rig?” She makes her way around the guys and comes to stand in front of Nicky with, dare I say, a glimmer of hope in her gaze.
Who is this Rig to her?
I’ll kill him.
“What’s it to you? Are you his old lady and missing being passed between the two brothers? I guess once a whore, always a whor-” Nicky sneers down at her but never expected her to slap him across the face.
“You shut the fuck up, Nicky. You have no idea. Absolutely no idea what you're talking about,” Tillie whispers, staring him in the eye, not noticing how still he became the moment she whipped her hand across his cheek.
I’d kill anyone who would even dare think about laying their hands on my friends, but I think I’m going to watch from a distance and see how this plays out. I lean back on my elbows with my ankles crossed to watch the show that could only end up in fireworks. Nicky’s hand lashes out, grabbing her wrist and roughly pulling her against his chest.
Her lips part in shock at the unexpected move as she stares up at him with huge brown eyes. Her body is plastered to his from the tip of their shoes to their chests pressed tightly together. Just the sight has my imagination running wild, the things we could do to her between us. The things I’d do to Nicky as she watched and was denied pleasure until I was ready to give it. I adjust my jeans, which are starting to feel uncomfortably tight.
“You ever touch me like that again and I’ll bury you so deep that no one will ever remember you existed in the first place,” Nicky whispers dangerously down at her, his face stone cold.
“Jesus,” Dalton whispers behind me.
Yeah, no one touches Nicky without his permission. Years of abuse by his father will do that to someone, make them fear the touch of another person that they resort to violence.
“Maybe that’s what I want,” Tillie says so quietly back to him that I almost missed it but Nicky hears it loud and clear as his jaw twitches, probably grinding his teeth again.
“That’s enough!” Logan demands and moves around the furniture to pull my honey bear away from Nicky, just as Franco makes an appearance in the archway.
Dressed from head to toe in his uniform with his badge a shiny reminder of the mockery. His Chief uniform, a dark navy blue suit and his briefcase under his arm give him an air of power, as if no one can touch him.
“What’s enough? And that’s no way to touch your stepsister, Logan,” Franco commands, nodding his head towards the grip Logan has on Tillie’s wrist, but no one sees what I do.
I don’t like the way he’s staring at her, how he’s not looking away from Tillie as she stares down at the ground with her body slightly trembling. He clears his throat and glances away from her, but catches my eye as I don’t blink, meeting his gaze that screams I’ll make sure he’s in the ground at an early age.
“You should all get to school. Logan, come to the warehouse after school. Make sure someone is watching her.” Franco addresses Logan without looking her way again, not daring to stare at what’s mine because he knows I’m watching.
I’m a loose cannon and he knows it.
With that, he leaves the room and the heels of his shoes echo until he goes through the garage door.
“Your dad is really a cop? You weren’t lying?” Tillie mumbles, her face twisting like she just swallowed something nasty as she stares with wide eyes full of shock.