I gasped as the familiar, crushing reminder of Mom ate away at what was left of me. I had no words for him, no protests or pleas. He tossed out the threat to hurt me, like he always did. I wondered if he’d go through with it this time. I tried to imagine him gone, but instead of despair, I found the remnants of sorrow and the promise of relief. Shame accompanied both, as I shouldn’t feel sorrow after the things he’d done, and I shouldn’t feel relief because he was still my brother.
“Say something!” He cried, shaking me, his face a contortion of bewilderment. “Didn’t you hear me? I’m not kidding! I’ll do it.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying. You’ve been drinking—”
“I know exactly what I’m saying. I don’t wanna live if I can’t have you. Say you won’t marry him.”
“I won’t marry him.” I swallowed hard and counted the seconds. Five in, hold, five out. Repeat. All the while, I prayed he’d let the issue drop, let me go and walk out the door.
He had other things in mind. His mouth smashed against mine, tongue forcing my lips apart and plundering. I didn’t fight him. I’d learned long ago it didn’t do any good. He’d only get rougher, meaner, and in turn, my fucked up body would only get off easier.
I kept my eyes shut and wished to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. The distinctive slide of his zipper rang loudly in my ears, and his hands blazed where he cupped my ass and lifted.
“That’s my girl,” he breathed as I automatically wound my legs around him, dress bunching at my waist. He pulled my panties to the side and pushed in with a grunt. His fingers banded around my wrists, pinned them to the wall above my head, and he pounded into me, shoving me higher with each forceful thrust. I held back the vomit burning in my throat.
One more thrust, another grunt. “No more Lucas,” he said.
“No more Lucas.” My face tightened as his tempo increased.
“No more avoiding me.”
I agreed to that too. I agreed to anything he wanted when he fucked me. The alternative always left me battered, bruised, and torn to pieces emotionally because the more I fought him, the more he set out to hurt me beyond what I could handle, and that usually meant he brought up Rafe and what he could do to him if I didn’t comply.
That threat carried more weight than ever.
Zach didn’t last long, probably because it’d been a couple of weeks since he’d last cornered me alone. Lucas’ presence had gone a long way in offering some form of protection, but I wasn’t so naive as to think he could act as a barrier forever. Even marrying him wouldn’t do that.
Zach finally loosened his grasp and allowed my feet to touch the floor. I rubbed my arms where the red impressions from his fingers marred my skin, making the faint, white scars from my nails more noticeable. He took my face in his hands, fingers gouging my jaw, and his gaze bored into me, through me.
“You didn’t get off.”
“I did,” I said quickly, because not reaching orgasm always angered him. “I swear I—”
“You didn’t get off. Don’t try to fake it. I’ll always know.” Stepping back, he gestured toward my dress. “Take it off.”
“C’mon, Zach, you don’t have—”
“Take it off.”
I unzipped the dress and let it fall to my feet, and my breasts jiggled in their braless state. He shoved me across the room, down to the couch, and forced my thighs open. Sinking to his knees, he yanked me toward his mouth until my ass was half off the couch, my legs dangling on either side of his shoulders.
The instant he tore my panties from my body, my mind went blank, as the sounds of my cries were too degrading to acknowledge. I vaguely recalled him twisting my nipples in unforgiving pinches, then slapping my breasts hard. He jammed his fingers into my * mercilessly, and after he’d compelled an orgasm from me, he made me suck my own cum off, shoving his fingers deep into my mouth as he emphasized how he was the one who had made me come.
Only me, Lex. No one else.
Then he was gone, and I was in the scalding shower, eyes squeezed shut, fists crossed over tender breasts to keep from bloodying my knuckles on the tile. The only drops of water on my cheeks came from the shower head. I never cried. I didn’t allow myself the luxury. My breaths came out in soft shudders, and I tried to keep myself in one piece as I recalled what he’d asked before he left.
Do you still love him?
My denial hadn’t placated him, and his parting words blared through my head, more forceful than my shame. If you go anywhere near him, I’ll fuck him up for life. He’s a lot easier to get to now, isn’t he?
The thought of my brother hurting Rafe terrified me, so I’d told Zach I hadn’t heard from him. A lie, because I was pretty sure the note came from Rafe.
Was this always going to be my life? Lies upon lies, sprinkled with the occasional half-truth?