by Jaye Cox
“You see the really bad one?”
“Yeah.”
“That was the first. I was five or six, I think. She used the tip of the iron. Pressed too hard for too long.”
“Fuck…” he hisses.
“She got better at it. She also realised that there were better places to mark me. Less obvious places. And of course, other ways to hurt me, that would be more subtle. Plus, she didn’t always have time to wait for the iron to heat up.” I laugh humourlessly.
“Why?” he sounds so angry he can barely get his words out.
“That first one? I didn’t eat my vegetables quick enough for her liking. The second was for failing to say thank you when she got me a drink. The third was for crying too loudly when I fell over and hurt myself. That one was a doozy because I actually needed stitches, but she wouldn’t take me because she was scared of my other injuries being seen. Those three reasons stuck. Then it becomes a blur. I’m not sure she gave reasons after that.”
“Fuck,” is all he says. Then he reaches up and lifts his shirt to show me his back. It’s riddled with scars, though my eyes are immediately drawn to his Celtic knot tattoo. It’s the same as Kalen’s. I focus on his scars. Scars that are newer and fresher than mine.
“I was the family punching bag,” he tells me quietly. “She never laid a finger on her perfect Onyx. It’s why he always has his shirt off and I never do. Even in summer.”
“Why?” I whisper, tracing my fingers over the long criss-cross patterns that span his entire back.
“Do they ever need a reason, really?” He can’t see me, but I shake my head. I have no words. Slate gets it.
I feel the tentative, uncertain bond between us strengthen and grow.
Suddenly, there’s a massive bang which makes me jump, but Slate reaches out to calm me.
“Relax. It’s just Onyx. I suspect he may not have liked what he just overheard. He’s so damn angry at the world because he blames himself.”
“What for?”
“Failing to protect me. Being the favourite. Not standing up to her…it’s quite a long list.”
“Well, now you know how ‘bad’ things are between me and her. She’s dead to me. I was forced here, and I’ll be gone as soon as I can. Aadi and Smalls are waiting on me.”
“Your brother is Aadi, and Smalls is…?”
“Yeah and Smalls is my everything, my ride or die, my person.”
“So, your boyfriend?” he asks.
“No, what we have is more than that, but we owe it to my dad’s wife, Chelsea, to respect her wishes that while we live under her roof, we keep our relationship platonic.”
“This will sting a little,” he says, dabbing my cut with something.
“Son of a bitch,” I hiss. “That freaking hurt.” I jump up from the bed. “Well thanks for patching me up, but I have to get ready for your party.”
“You’re coming?” Slate asks, with wide eyes. I nod.
“Though, I’m sure I won’t be getting lucky with this big ass band-aid on my chin.”
“Plaster.”
“Sorry, what?”
“We call them plasters over here. And you should be okay to remove it in an hour or so. It’s better to let the air get to it anyway.”
“Oh wow, okay Dr Slate,” I tease. “When did you get to know so much about medicine?”
“Did you meet my brother? I’ve already spent a lifetime patching him up. I learnt quickly to disguise the worst of it, to minimise the impact it had on our parents.”
“Touché.” I laugh.
“I don’t think you should be going near anyone, anymore,” Onyx says as he re-enters the room. I leap out of my skin and swear loudly.
“Don’t do that! Th-that creepy silent serial killer shit! Make a noise when you move or something.”
He doesn’t crack a smile at my joke. Onyx looks terrifying. I’ve never seen him so angry. Taking a step towards me, he easily closes the gap. Slate does the same from behind. My heart begins to race as uncertainty floods me. What’s going on?
“I agree. I wouldn’t want to see anyone get hurt,” Slate adds.
My breath hitches at the contact from them both, and my mind strays from the menacing words they’re saying to very much focus on my twin sandwich fantasy.
“You know you want it,” one of them breathes in my ear. Yes, I can normally tell them apart, but right now, squeezed between their two hard bodies, I can barely stand, let alone think straight.
“Who wouldn’t? Two men, twins, showing you pleasure you never knew existed.”
Slate’s lips touch my skin and I’m lost in their touch, squirming with pleasure.
“Hold her still,” Onyx barks. I’m not sure if it’s his tone, or the thought of being held still, but my body goes into fight or flight mode.
I use one of the moves Sawyer showed me in self-defence class, a throat strike, that leaves Onyx gasping for breath as I elbow Slate from behind. I can’t be here. I can’t do this.
I run, out of the room, out of the dorm, and smack bang into a hard chest.
Looking up, Sawyer’s steel-grey eyes show concern, but his body he keeps at a distance.
“Are you okay?” I nod, tears flowing down my cheeks. “Did someone hurt you?”
“I’m fine, sorry to bother you,” I say, taking a step back, wiping my tears. Sawyer reaches out and grabs my wrist, pulling me back towards him.
“You could never be a bother to me, Amelie. I just can’t do this here…we could go to my office.” A loud pained sob escapes my throat. I can’t do this. He chooses now to acknowledge me? After weeks of ghosting me or being cold and distant? I can’t handle his kindness when I’m at my most vulnerable.
“Don’t bother, Sir.” I verbally lash out. “I can’t keep doing this, pretending. You're all too much.”
I don’t wait for him to respond, I take off and race back to my room. At least running with Onyx had some benefits: I’m faster and more coordinated than before. I need to talk to Smalls. Just to hear his voice.
I tear through the pads, not being able to get through the packaging fast enough and power on the phone.
The minute it takes to power up feels like a year, but when it’s finally ready, there’s no need to scroll contacts; I know his number off by heart. Even the area code bullshit I have to dial to make international calls.
“Hey, baby, what’s doing?” I can’t respond to him, I hiccup through the tears. “Hey, talk to me, tell me you are okay, I need to hear your voice.”
“I miss you,” I manage to whisper.
“I miss you too. If you need me, I will sell my ass and get on the next flight there.”
I laugh. “You better not sell yourself to those dirty whores, who knows what you’ll catch.”
“And there she is.”
“How will I survive three years here, Smalls? It's barely been half a term and I feel like my heart is dying.”
“Because, baby, you’re a Rossi and Rossi’s are made of tough stuff. What doesn’t kill ya only makes ya stronger.”
“I know, but it still hurts. I’m making shitty choices without you and Aadi here to guide me.”
“We baby you, it’s a good time to find yourself. Figure out who Amelie Luna Rossi is, not who we want you to be. I will always be here for you.”
“I love you, Smalls.”
“I love you too, baby girl, ride or die remember? Hold on a sec.”
The call muffles, but I can hear whispering in the background.
Are you coming back to bed?
I don’t make out anything else.
“Sorry, I’m back.”
“I can’t do this, Smalls, go back to bed.”
“It’s not what you th…”
I end the call and power off my phone. I have no right to be jealous; we made the choice to stay friends, to fight our attraction…besides, it would make me a hypocrite because I’ve fooled around with three guys and slept with another one. That’s what I’m telling myse
lf anyway, but my heart is devastated. More tears fall and I swipe them away angrily.
The situation with the twins would have been fine. Apparently now I know sex with one person is fine, but being trapped between two, I can’t handle.
After Smalls and Aadi found me at that party, after the sick freaks videoed me, they wanted to take it to the police, for my sake. But that isn’t how it works where we come from. It would have made everything worse for us, but our motto is an eye for an eye. I know each one of them paid the price for what they did to me. I don’t really remember any of it, I have flashes of laughter, the room spinning, nothing after that.
I blamed myself for so long, I willingly went to that party to piss off Smalls, because he went to a party with Aadi and Veronica. I call her the local bike because everyone’s had a turn, but that’s also the day Smalls set me straight: I was fifteen, he was eighteen, and while he felt the connection we had, he would never act on it again, not while he lived under my father’s roof. I always just presumed when we grew up and moved out, we would give it a shot, but how can I expect him to wait for me? He’ll be twenty-five by the time I get back to Australia. He deserves to find a girl and settle down, like he’s always talked about it. I just always thought it would be me.
I force myself to get it together and march all the way to Elsie’s room, where I bang a little too hard on her door. She answers after one knock.
“I need booze and lots of it, today has sucked and I need to forget it ever happened.”
“Mini fridge over there is stocked. Tell me that the Knox boys haven't messed with you.”
I don’t fill her in on what happened with the twins.
“Back home problems, realising the boy I thought I would love forever might not be my future. Having to accept just being his friend is a hard pill to swallow.”
“Let's get you dressed and wasted...but first you need to shower, you look like a hot mess.”
Chapter Seventeen
Onyx
The party has been going for over two hours and Amelie is yet to turn up. I would know; Slate and I have been keeping an eye on the only entrance all night. We need to apologise as soon as we see her. Slate and I feel like crap; we cornered her, made her feel unsafe, and after what she’s been through that is not okay. We got too caught up in the moment, playing the same damn role we always do when we share some willing whore, that we forgot about her.
When we decided to make nice, use her to find out how to break her, I never actually thought I would end up liking her. It changes everything, but we still need her gone, just now it’s for a different reason: we need to protect her.
Everyone keeps telling me the party is amazing, but I can’t relax and enjoy it. I need to know she’s okay. I need to make things right. So instead, I sulk in the corner, leaving Slate to make the rounds and socialise. I just tip beer after beer back without even tasting them, eyes glued on the illuminated tunnel entrance that will announce her presence and make everything better.
I do a double take when I see her walk in. She takes my breath away. I was starting to worry that she wouldn’t show, that she’d be in her dorm crying and upset, but she’s dressed like she came to kill. She looks like she’s already started the party without us.
Watching her walk in with Elsie, my eyes rake over her body. Her long dark curls are loose down her back and she’s wearing a short leather skirt with some killer boots and a form fitting top that plunges in the front. She looks like sex on legs. My dick twitches. I don’t know much about her encounter with Sawyer, but if she turned up dressed like this, no wonder he fell hard and is so fucked up about it.
Relieved to see her, I kick off from the wall where I was waiting and make my way over to her. Across the room, I catch Slate’s eye and nod. He sees her too and begins to head in her direction. Only, we’re intercepted by Kalen making a bee-line for her, two drinks in hand. For fuck’s sake! Her face lights up when she sees him in a way that it never does for me. She takes the drink he offers her, downs it in one and chucks the cup away. She throws her head back and laughs uproariously at something Kalen’s said. A bitter taste forms in my mouth.
“What do we do?” Slate asks, joining me. His eyes are glued to Amelie too and I wonder if he feels more drawn to her now that he knows they have a shared history of pain. The only thing worse than having to listen to Slate bare our secret to someone outside of the family, was having to listen to Amelie talk about what Laura did to her. She even tried to make light of it by joking. Thank fuck Slate has stayed glued to my side all night, otherwise I would have taken off to kill Laura for what she did.
I watch as Kalen and Amelie begin to dance. I can’t take my eyes off her, the way she moves, it’s hypnotic. I’ve never wanted to protect anyone outside of my family before. Family means everything, and as far as I’m concerned, the rest of the world can be collateral damage in my bid to keep them safe.
She wraps her arms around Kalen’s neck and pulls him in close, kissing him. Kalen’s hands slide down to cup her ass, before sliding up under her short skirt. Fuck.
“We intervene. They shouldn’t be doing that in public,” I mutter. It’s jealousy talking, but I say it with enough confidence that Slate believes I’m looking out for them. “Let’s go.”
I walk over to the couple and when I get closer, I can see that Amelie is wasted. Her and Kalen are practically having sex and quite a few people are enjoying the show. I glare at the onlookers until they get the hint and turn away. Then, I make sure to approach Amelie from the front, so as not to startle her or put her in a similar situation to earlier, and Slate does the same, remaining by my side as I close the distance between the four of us.
“Well, isn’t this quite the family reunion?” I drawl, placing a hand heavily on Kalen’s shoulder. Slate mirrors my movements and wordlessly we yank Kalen back and out of Amelie’s grasp. She stumbles and I let go of Kalen to catch and steady her. As soon as she’s safe on her feet, I drop my hold on her.
“Bro, what did you do that for?” Kalen grumbles.
“You were dry humping our sister like a damn dog.”
“Not your sister,” Amelie slurs.
“Shush,” I snap. “I’m talking to Kalen.” Damn it, I’m meant to be apologising to her, not making things worse. Thankfully, she’s too drunk to care. Normally she would have chewed my ass out for that.
“Give me a break, O! It’s a party. Everyone fucks at parties.”
“Whatever. Get lost for a bit, Kalen,” I tell him. “Slate and I have unfinished business with Amelie.”
He looks at her, torn. I can see it in his eyes, he really cares about her. Might even love her. As the baby of the family, he’s always felt the need to protect someone, the way we all do with him. But he’s also loyal to his family. Who does he stand by? And is Amelie family? It’s a grey area. I can see the same questions play out across his face and he desperately tries to grow enough of a backbone to say no to us.
“It’s fine, Kalen.” Amelie breaks the tension. He nods once and leaves, the spring in his step from her arrival gone. “What?” she snaps, crossing her arms across her chest in a defiant pose. It just highlights her breasts, but I try to keep my eyes on her face. It wouldn’t do well to get distracted or piss her off right now.
“Can we go somewhere to talk?” I ask.
“Where could we go?” She smirks.
“We know somewhere. Will you come with us?”
“What? You’re not just going to drag me off against my will?”
“A. When did we ever do that? B. I don’t like making scenes unless I really have to. C. We will never do anything to you that you don’t want us to do. Ever. Remember that.”
To my relief she nods and agrees to follow us, so we head out of the only entrance into the party room bunker and into the dimly lit tunnel. The tunnel twists and turns as it heads back up to the surface but there’s a few break-off tunnels from the main one and this is where I lead Amelie, with Slate bringing up th
e rear. It opens out into a small cave-like space.
“Slate,” I give the order and my twin pulls a lighter from his pocket. A moment later a dozen tea lights in jars are lit and the space comes alive.
“This is nice,” Amelie says, looking around. I try to see it through her eyes, with a pile of cushions and blankets on the floor, the dancing candlelight, the distant beat of the music…I guess it might be okay, for a cold, dank cave anyway.
“If you think this is nice, you have to get my brothers to take you on better dates,” I snort.
“We haven’t been on any,” she replies.
“Allow me to rectify that,” the words slip from my lips before I can form the thought.
“You didn’t bring me here to ask me out,” she points out.
“True, but I’m going to anyway,” I agree, then pause. Now that I’ve got her here, I don’t know what to say or do. “Amelie, we’re really sorry.” I’m as earnest as I can be.
“I—”
“No,” I interrupt her. “I know you must really hate us, but I want to promise you that it wasn’t our intention to hurt you. I, we, feel terrible.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” she whispers.
“Maybe not. But knowing what you told us about that video, should have made us more cautious and careful,” Slate chimes in.
“We got caught up in the moment and we were idiots,” I tell her.
“I don’t want to be treated like a china doll. I didn’t know I was going to react like that. It’s...it’s not a situation I’ve ever been in before. Willingly, anyway,” she adds at the end. I don’t know why, but a burning rage, white-hot, consumes me at her words. Why do I want to get on a plane, hunt those fuckers down and make them pay?
Why do I care?
“It doesn’t matter. We shouldn’t have put you in that situation in the first place,” Slate tells her exactly what I’m thinking.
“I liked it,” she admits. “Until my brain didn’t.”
“Well, I’m promising you now: it won’t happen again, okay?” I’m firm. And I mean it. I never want to freak her out like that. I tell myself that I’m imagining the flash of disappointment that I think I see in her eyes. I have to be.
