Maria starts spreading ointment on my cheek when the sound of my front door bursting open echoes, scaring my poor maid.
“You move on quick, you piece of shit,” he says, throwing slander the second he walks into my kitchen. Maria jumps, dropping the ointment. “Oh, my apologies, Maria. I thought you were…”
“No worries, Mr. Winters.” She picks up the cream and makes another attempt at my face, but I slap her hand away. “I’m fine. That will be all.” She nods and quickly gathers her things to exit the room.
“Came back for round two? Or did you want Maria to clean you up too? She’s not very gentle. Just forewarning.” I remain seated, waiting for his next move, preparing myself for another blow I’ll willingly accept. I deserve it.
“I won’t be done with you until you’re fucking buried six feet under.” He takes a menacing step toward me, and I brace myself for his fists to ruin Maria’s patch-up job. “You know, I always knew you were ruthless and gave a shit about no one but yourself, but I thought I was the one exception to that rule. I could care less about how your blood runs cold for the people around you, but me? I thought I was your friend. Your only fucking friend. She’s my fucking daughter, Gabriel.”
His words sting more than my open wounds. They strike with a velocity, and I jerk back in my chair. As if I don’t remind myself of that hard fact every single day.
“Anything? You going to say anything? I trusted you. I trusted you with her. How long have you been luring in my daughter, you son of a bitch?”
“It’s not like that—”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” His laugh is cruel and cynical. “You’re talking to me here—your best friend since we were practically kids. I know you better than anyone. You expect me to believe you? When did it start? When did you start taking advantage of her trust? Her innocence—”
I shoot out of my chair, ready to match him blow for blow for insinuating I would ever dare take advantage of her. “Watch it,” I hiss.
He doesn’t back down. “I trusted you in my home. God, all the times I’ve trusted you with her. How fucking long?”
There’s no right answer here. Do I confess it was the day she turned of age when I finally allowed the inappropriate glances to slide off my wandering eye? Willingly accepted her flirtatious advances? Decided one day I would sell my soul for a taste of her forbidden beauty?
“WHEN!” Heath howls, cutting into my thoughts.
“Just before she left for school,” I reply.
Heath steps back. “You sick piece of shit. You stay the fuck away from her—”
“You didn’t need to come back here to remind me. Get the fuck out—”
Fuck!
That motherfucker takes a swing at me. My lips split back open, and I hiss.
“Why her? You can have anyone. Why…her?”
“Do you think I planned this? You think I chose to put my only friendship on the line?”
“You don’t give a shit about friendship. Why?”
“Same reason you had.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“Why Violet?” He rears back to hit me again, but this time, I prepare to fight back.
“This has nothing to do with me.” His chest heaves, ready to land another shot, but I’m not giving him a chance.
“But it does have to do with wanting something so bad, knowing you can’t have it, fighting the demons inside that taunt you with right and wrong.”
“Why fucking HER!” His voice booms throughout my kitchen, cracking with emotion. I’ve had enough. I may have destroyed the only friendship that has ever meant anything to me, but along with that, I’ve also lost the only person I’ve ever…fuck…I ever fucking loved.
“Because she was this entity creating light in my dark world. You should know just as well as anyone what happens when you find something so pure, so beautiful, inside and out…it’s a struggle to walk away. I didn’t lay a single hand on her without her consent.” I wipe the fresh blood off my lip. “I didn’t choose her. Life did. The cruel fucking universe we live in decided for us.” A firestorm of anger and betrayal light behind his eyes. My voice is suddenly hoarse. “I knew the impact of my decisions and how my empire would crumble around me the day you got wind. And I hated myself for that. Hated knowing I was going to cause this, going to hurt you. I hate my-fucking-self for it, but I can’t stand here and lie to you and tell you I regret it. Not a single fucking second of it.”
He stares at me, the hatred in his gaze like a knife slicing my chest wide open. He shakes his head. “I won’t accept this. I can’t. Where is she? I’m taking her home.”
I didn’t expect him to. I always knew the end of us would be me walking away. “And you have my word. I’m done. I’ll stay away from her.”
He spits at my feet. “Your word means shit to me. But hear mine.” He stabs his finger at me. “If I ever see you near her, I will fucking kill you.” A sharp pain radiates inside my chest, an emotion too heavy and dark to describe. Loss? Regret? I want to rage. Tell him to fuck off. That she’s mine. But I won’t betray him twice. I’ll stick to my word. I’ll never see her again. “Now, where is she? I want to get the fuck out of this house and get you out of my life.”
My emotions slip, and I snap at his insinuation. I wish she were here, in her cage, in my bed, in my life. I mask my undoing with annoyance. “You saw her walk out of my house just as well as I did.”
Heath takes a threatening step toward me. “I’m not playing games, asshole. Where the fuck is she? Hazel!” he shouts through the house.
Regardless of the pain, I’m ready for another round to get him to stop saying her name—get him out of my house so I can start to accept the soul-crushing truth of what just went down. “And like I told you, she’s not fucking here. I suggest calling your girl.”
You’re done with her.
Stay the fuck away from her.
You’ll never see her again.
Each word is like a grenade detonating inside my chest. I knew the consequences. I was never meant to make it out of this alive. Heath snaps me out of my sullen realization when he takes another luring step, preparing to swing.
“My girl told me you picked her up from a bar at school. I know you’re with her.”
My brows scrunch in confusion. “I haven’t left my house. She’s not with me.” Heath looks about ready to blow. We have a stare-off, my eyes becoming wide with uncertainty. Pulling his phone out, he dials Violet. “Don’t baby me. That shit isn’t going to get you out of this. Where is Hazel? I know you told me that, but I’m standing at the asshole’s house right now, and he’s not with her… What do you mean that’s what the bartender…? Where the fuck are you? Who? Who the fuck is Evan—”
I grab the phone from Heath. “Violet, was Evan there with you?”
“Yeah, he just showed up at the bar we were at. He was being kind of strange. I left them for a couple minutes to use the bathroom, and when I came back, they were gone. The bartender told me a guy who said his name was Gabriel left with her.”
“Did he say where they were going?”
“No, but he said Hazel seemed wasted, which was also strange. I was only gone for a couple minutes, and she was fine. It was like the last time…she came home and…oh shit…”
“Oh shit, what?” I growl.
“Last night, we did this study group. She texted me claiming she was sleeping there, but it was super weird considering she was upset about something. Now that I piece it all together, there was no way she would’ve slept there. When she came home, she was so out of it and confused. I didn’t think about it, but…holy shit, there’s no way he’s…I think maybe he drugged her.”
“Where are you right now?” I bark out.
Her sobs pierce my ears as she cries. “I’m in our room. I came back here thinking maybe this is where you would’ve taken her.”
“I didn’t take her anywhere!” I yell, my chest heavy with onset panic. “Listen, I need you to te
xt me the address of where that asshole lives. Can you do that?”
“Okay, yeah, I can do that. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Evan seemed harmless at first. I would never have thought he would do anything to hurt her. He liked her. Wouldn’t stop bugging me about getting her to go out… Oh my god…why didn’t I see the signs! How could I be so stupid after Jim…?”
Her sobs mingle with strangled breaths. I barely understand the rest of her babbling and hand the phone back to Heath, then dial Hazel’s number, but it goes to voicemail. “Dammit.” I send her a generic text message and wait to see if it’s read. It only takes a few seconds before the three little dots appear and disappear. That motherfucker has her phone.
“Violet, stop crying. We’re on our way,” Heath coos to his girl as we storm out of my house to his car.
Evan
Gabriel: Do you need a ride?
I read the incoming text message. Jesus. Get a clue, you sick old fuck. Maybe find somebody your own age. I take a swig of my beer and toss Hazel’s phone on the bed next to her naked body. But then again, I see why he’s so damn insistent. I grab at my crotch. I knew she was hot, but damn, take away all those tempting clothes she wears, and I should’ve done this a lot sooner.
I walk over to my dresser and pick up a card. Slicing through the white powder, I press my nose to it, snorting a line of coke. My head whips back as the drug seeps into my nostrils. “Fuck yeah.” I exhale deeply, wipe the remaining residue off my nose, and grab for my beer.
I’ve been waiting for an hour for her to show some signs of consciousness. I prefer her to be somewhat awake when I fuck her. Not that it matters. Sometimes the unconscious ones are the best lays. Next time I have to be more aware of how much Rohypnol I put in their drink.
I walk over to the bed and slam the rest of my beer. “Wakey-wakey, little bitch. Time for you to pay up for all the times you teased me while making me work for your bitchy ass. You’re going to pay for all the time I spent on you without knowing you’ve been daddy fucking this whole time.”
I crawl onto the bed and spread her legs apart, having to pull my hand away to wipe my dripping nostril. “What’s that, bitch? You’re sorry for leading me on?” I take a finger and slide it inside her cunt. She groans, starting to come to. “Oh, you want more?” I take a second finger and slide it inside. “You should show a little bit more appreciation, dry bitch.” I work my fingers, trying to create a lather. “This isn’t going to be easy fucking you if you’re so dry, whore. Or do you only get wet for daddies?”
Becoming annoyed, I grab at her tit and squeeze hard. She groans on contact, and my dick gets hard. “That’s right, tell me how you want it. Beg, and maybe I’ll forgive you.” Her phone goes off again, killing my mood. I pull my fingers out of her and jump off the bed.
Him again.
Jesus, how pathetic can you be? I’m tempted to answer again and tell him she’s busy with my cock in her mouth. Maybe that will get him to stop fucking calling. The phone pings and another text comes through.
Dad: You’re dead, motherfucker.
Then another…
Gabriel: You lay a hand on her, and you’re dead.
Shit.
Did her bitch roommate rat me out? I begin pacing my room, trying to figure out what to do. Another line. Another beer. I stare over at Hazel. Fuck that guy. He’s not gonna scare me. She asked for this—and she’s going to get exactly what’s coming to her. My father will cover this up, just like he always does. I toss back the beer in one gulp and chuck the empty bottle to the corner of my room. Pulling my pants down, I’m hard as fuck. Pumping my cock to get ready, I groan and walk over to Hazel. Too many fantasies flash through my mind. Shoving my cock in her mouth sounds enticing, but so does her ass. Fuck. I start jacking off at the mere thought. With one hand still wrapped around myself, I lean over and thrust a finger back inside her and growl out, frustrated at how dry she still is.
“Fucking bitch.” Leaning over to my nightstand, I open the drawer for my lube. I bet if I hurry, I can fuck her ass too before she fully wakes up. I coat my dick and push her legs open wider when someone starts knocking on my door.
“Evan, you in there, dude? Some chick is here for you.”
“Tell her I’m busy and to go away.”
“Yeah, I don’t think she’s taking no for an answer, man. She’s looking for her friend.”
More banging.
“Open the door, you sleazebag. Hazel, are you in there?”
Fuck!
Goddammit. This stupid bitch is becoming more of a hassle than she’s worth. Jumping off the bed, I throw the covers over her, slide back into my boxers, and open the door to my roommate and Violet, Hazel’s fucking cockblocking roommate.
“Dude, she’s fine. She doesn’t need a babysitter.”
“Fuck you,” she grits out, trying to push past me. My arm reaches out, and I grab around her neck, gripping her viciously and slamming her back into the wall.
“Evan! Jesus! What the fuck!”
Grayson tries to intervene, and I turn to him, my fingers digging into Violet’s throat. “Back off, man.” My eyes are wild with rage. No one tells me what to do. Like the pussy he is, he backs off, and I return my attention to the cunt roommate. She struggles under my death grip, and her nails scrape down my arms. I relish in the way her skin reddens as I cut off her air supply. “I don’t think so, bitch. You don’t just come into my room. As you can see, we’re fucking busy.” The bitch screams and tries to kick me in my nuts, so I slam her up against the wall again.
“Hazel!” she cries, looking over my shoulder. “What the hell have you done to her!” I can’t help but laugh. This bitch is practically purple.
“What the fuck, dude? Let her go.” Grayson whines and tries again to intervene. This time he knows better than to fucking touch me.
“Grayson, buddy, I suggest you stay the fuck out of this.” Still holding the bitch’s throat, I reach into my dresser and grab the 9mm Dad gave me for my birthday.
“Whoa, whoa, what the fuck, man!” Grayson backs up, throwing his hands up in surrender.
“I think I’m the one who should be saying what the fuck. You’re the ones barging into my room when I’m busy.”
“Busy doing what, trying to rape an unconscious girl?” God, this bitch is getting on my nerves. Without thought, I backhand her with the gun. Blood spurts from her lip and I laugh as her knees buckle.
“Evan, stop, man.”
I hate it when people tell me what to do. My frustration spikes, along with the drugs peaking in my system. My hand starts to shake with anger as I point the gun at him. “I told you to stay out of this. Get your own pussy.” I turn back to the girl, debating what the hell to do when Grayson tackles me.
And the gun goes off.
Gabriel
I’m a ruthless motherfucker.
I’m a fierce, no fucks, dominating businessman who would take candy from a baby to seal a deal. I have a solution for every problem, all pointing in my favor. At the end of the day, I sit on my throne of power, admiring each game I’ve played and won. I laugh at companies and people who become chess pieces in my sport of domination. And I sip on my fancy scotch without a care or concern of whom I destroy along the way.
That’s the man I’ve always been.
Until her.
No amount of power or riches compares to the priceless caress of her sweet smile against my chest. The feathery scent of her skin as I drag my tongue over every single part of her. And the willingness in her eyes that screams trust, safety.
I’m a fucking monster…and she trusted me. Wholeheartedly. Violent pain in my chest makes me recoil at the thought of Hazel being in trouble. Hurt. Fuck…I swear to God if that little shit touches her… My blood begins to boil with revenge. He won’t be walking out of his apartment if I have anything to do with it.
I fight to suppress the panic I heard in Violet’s voice. The anguish in Hazel’s when I rejected her. I always feared how our
little world would come crashing down around us, but I never thought it would hurt this bad. I was a man of power. Nothing could hurt me until tonight. After the way Hazel looked at me, I’ve finally been defeated—and I have no idea how to fix it.
I inhale deeply. How much fucking longer? I need to get to her. Make sure she’s okay. Touch her one last time. Thank God Heath is a man on a mission, breaking every traffic law. We get onto campus in unimaginable timing. As we pull up to the address Violet texted, the red and blue lights flashing tell me we weren’t fast enough. We’re not even fully parked before I jump out of the car and run to the apartment building. Police lights bounce off the building and crowded sidewalk of curious bystanders. Police cars barricade the street, and a group of medical staff runs into the building. I push through a group of kids but am stopped at a barrier of cops.
“I need to get in there,” I demand, but the officer uses force, thrusting his hand against my chest, halting me from passing him.
“Sorry, this is a crime scene. You can’t go through.” The color drains from my face. His words echo in my head. Crime scene. Crime scene. Crime scene. Fear swipes me off my feet, and I grip his shirt.
My voice cracks. “What do you mean, it’s a—”
Heath is finally behind me. He throws his shoulder into the officer and fights to get past him. “My fucking daughter is in there. Let me through!”
The officer’s demeanor changes at Heath’s statement. His eyes shine with pity. “Sir, which one is your daughter?”
My stomach bottoms out. His question dangles in the cold air as the reality of what he is asking settles in. I turn to Heath, his face ashen. “What do you mean which one? Hazel Winters, who else?” The doors to the apartment building swing open and two paramedics hurry out, wheeling a stretcher. The first thing we see is long, dark hair hanging off the edge. Something inside Heath breaks, and a low howl leaves his chest. “No, no, no. I told her to wait for me. No, no, no. Violet!” Heath screams. “Violet!” The officer allows him through, and he barely makes it up the walkway before collapsing in front of the stretcher.
Sweet Little Lies Page 15
