CHAPTER 4
K.C.
I sat on the edge of Tate’s bed the next morning, running my thumb back and forth across the jagged scar on the inside of my wrist that lay in my lap. It was long and thin but well hidden, running diagonally on the inside of my wrist.
Gutless and helpless. I shook my head slowly, feeling a cold tear land on my arm.
Jaxon Trent was an asshole.
Everyone thought they had me figured out. Jax, Jared, Madoc, Liam, my mother … everyone.
Everyone except Tate and Shane. They were the only family I really had, because they were the only ones who knew everything.
“I’ve never met anyone so desperate to get out of her own skin.”
I tucked my long hair behind my ear and sniffled. He was right about that. Immediately the memory hit me as if it had just happened yesterday.
“Katherina, come here,” my father calls. He sits by the window, wearing blue lounge pants and a robe.
I chew on my nails, looking up at my mother, scared. But she doesn’t look back. Why won’t she look at me?
I’m four, and they don’t tell me what’s wrong, even though I keep asking. All I know is that my daddy can’t live at home anymore. His hair is messy, and he never had a beard before.
“Katherina.” He waves me in with his hand, wanting me to come.
“Daddy, I’m Juliet,” I mumble, and my mother pinches my back.
My lip shakes, and my face hurts. I did something wrong. When I do bad things in public, she pinches me, because she says she can’t yell at me.
I see my daddy’s face look sad, and I drop my hands, because I want him to love me. “I’m just kidding.” I smile as big as I can. “I am Katherina.”
And I run to the safety and love of my daddy’s arms, holding on tight, even though he thinks I’m my sister.
I couldn’t believe it, and I hated to admit it, but the asshole was right. I wasn’t my dead sister, Katherina, and what was worse, I didn’t even know who the hell Juliet was anymore. I barely existed.
What ice cream did K.C. like? Because I’d just eat that so I wouldn’t confuse my father’s happy delusions. Did I have to wear Mary Janes to church every Sunday just because they were K.C.’s favorite shoes? I hated Mary Janes, but no, I was supposed to like them, so I decided just to like them and forget about it. What did I want to be when I grew up? Or, wait. What did K.C. want to be? Because Daddy liked to talk to her about that, and I had to try not to upset him.
In death, my sister was perfection. She never bit her nails, acted up, or listened to bad music. She was beautiful, perfect, and alive. Juliet was the dead one.
I trailed around in a daze, having slept barely at all the night before, and stripped off my pajama shorts and cami as I stepped into the bathroom. Turning on the shower, I climbed in, my heavy limbs moving only as much as they had to, weighted down with fucking defeat.
Gutless and helpless.
I dipped my head back and shivered as the hot water poured welcome heat all over my skin. The weather outside was hot and wet, and I kept the temperature inside at eighty degrees, not wanting to run up the Brandts’ electric bill while I stayed here. But even though it seemed I was constantly wiping sweat off my brow, I wanted it hotter. I turned the faucet, increasing the temperature from a pleasant thaw to a fever, and I didn’t care if it was almost too much. I wasn’t cold anymore.
“… writhing and sweaty and begging.”
I tilted my head, leaning it on the shower wall and closing my eyes.
“I wanted to taste how wet you were for me.”
Sucking in my bottom lip, I felt the fire pool between my legs, and my head felt as if it were floating.
It could’ve been the heat of the shower. Or it could’ve been the memory of his breath on my face. It had smelled like apples and pears and rain.
Like summer. How could anyone’s breath smell like summer?
“I used to fantasize about pinning you against the lockers at school …”
Reaching down, I slid my hand up the inside of my wet thigh, the urge undeniable. I should’ve let him have me in high school, but I was afraid he’d rip my life apart. I was afraid he’d confuse me. And here I was, just as confused as ever, and I should’ve let him screw me. Ten times a day, whenever he wanted, because at least I would’ve been Juliet again, and I would’ve felt something.
I brought my hand up between my legs and ran my middle finger along my slit, rolling my hips into my hand.
Oh, God, that felt good. I breathed hard, rubbing my hand faster.
I was at least grateful for one of the things my mother had encouraged. Waxing. I’d opted to get it all removed. I loved it, and I wondered if Jax liked that sort of thing. My fingers rubbed against the smooth skin, and the pressure built in my belly with the pleasure of skin on skin.
My fingers slipped inside my folds, and I reached up and held one of my breasts with the other hand, wishing it was his hands squeezing and kneading while his tongue swirled around my cunt.
Shit. I just said “cunt.”
I never said words like that, but Nik constantly used them, and somehow it didn’t seem out of place right now.
I groaned, swirling my fingers around my clit, feeling the hard nub pulse like an automatic weapon. I wanted him.
Jax’s tongue was on me, and the hot spray of the shower doused his body in shimmering droplets. I wanted to lick them all.
But he was doing all the action right now. His tongue darted out to lick and play over my hip, up my stomach, and then stopping to French-kiss my breast before he stood up straight. Grabbing me by the back of my hair, he stared down at me as he whispered into my mouth.
I want your legs wrapped around my waist as you ride my cock.
“Oh, God,” I cried out, swirling my clit faster and faster. “Yes.”
I was throbbing and on fire, and I wanted what I had never wanted with Liam. Leaving the water running, I climbed out of the shower and hurried for the bedroom, dripping all over the rug. Yanking open the bedside drawer, I pulled out the vibrator and crashed onto the bed, lying on my back.
Spreading my legs, I turned the dial as far as it would go, and I heard the buzzing getting louder and louder. Working the head around my clit, I gasped at the swirls of pleasure filling my stomach.
Holy shit!
I started feeling little waves rolling through my belly. My eyes fluttered closed, and I arched my back off the bed, wanting more, needing more.
Oh, God.