project

by Torrance, Asa

  Only he won’t let me. Not before he torments me first.

  “Once we go inside, you aren’t going to say a thing about any of this shit, understand?”

  Fear surges through me as he tightens his fingers, but anger flares in me, too. “What shit? The way you promised to leave me alone if I helped you fuck with your rivals, which I did, by the way, even if it made me sick—”

  “Oh, so fucking delicate.”

  “Or the way you’re forcing me to join a gang I don’t want to join?” I continue despite his taunt.

  “Windy,” he purrs my name, the smooth baritone of his voice making me twitch involuntarily in my seat. “There are no female Snake Eyes members. Just girls who do what we say, and in return, they get to suck our dicks and spread their legs whenever we want. Now, does that sound like a job you’d be any good at?”

  My bottom lip trembles as I tense at his words, the way he’s talking to me, the things he’s willing to say. His laugh is cold as he lets go of my wrist and traces a finger up to my lips. “You look like you would be about as useful as a paper bag in a rainstorm anyway. What do they call girls like you again? Frigid?”

  “Whatever,” I spit back, my mind confused by the interest that still floats into his gaze like approaching fog when he looks at me. “There’s no way I’m becoming a part of your gross little harem anyway.”

  He scoffs. “I guess we’ll see, won’t we, Wind?”

  My hands float up to my heated cheeks as I watch him get out of the car and come around to the passenger’s side. The way we’re so familiar with each other, yet so far apart, makes this the ultimate mind fuck.

  Damien throws open the door, reaching inside the car to take me by the arm and drag me out.

  There’s no use fighting. I know he’s stronger than me anyway.

  I still gasp as he throws my body against the car, cupping my face again as his body traps mine. “Don’t forget our agreement,” he tells me. “When we get in there, you act like nothing’s changed between us, got it?” He presses against me, his body long and lean and solid. His eyes trace over my stubbornly closed lips with contempt. “Windy?”

  I give a nod, watching as he purses his lips with displeasure.

  “Fucking say it,” he tells me.

  “Got it,” I utter. “I’ll act like nothing’s changed.”

  He lets me go and I charge away from the car, hearing his footsteps behind me as I follow the familiar footpath up to my house. The branches of the tall oak tree in our front yard creak overhead as I fumble for my housekeys, somehow unable to find the right key despite the previous million times I’ve unlocked this door. I can sense Damien behind me, emanating a sense of impatience that nearly makes me sweat.

  A shriek nearly escapes my lips as the door swings open in front of me. “Oh, good,” my mother says with a warm smile. “You brought Damien.”

  I can’t keep myself from rushing in past her, seeking sanctuary. Then I remember his words, the agreement he forced me to make out in the driveway as his cold stare threatened to break me if I disobeyed. “Yep,” I murmur. “Here he is.”

  Damien steps inside my house, trading the ruthless expression he’s been wearing ever since he came back for one so normal, so familiar, that I can’t help the frown that spreads across my face.

  Like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, he gazes over at me triumphantly as Mom throws her arms around him in a hug.

  “Good to see you, Damien.”

  “Same here, Mrs. Jacobs,” he says, morphing back into choir-boy mode as they part. “It’s been forever.”

  “Too long,” Mom agrees. “You seem even taller than the last time I saw you.”

  Maybe he’s an imposter, I think sarcastically as I bite my tongue. I clear my throat instead, prompting their attention my way. My eyes swing from Damien’s closeted smug expression over to my mother. “Sorry,” I murmur. “I just—should I set three places at the table tonight?”

  That has to be it. He’s somehow gotten himself invited to dinner, an old friend of the family my mother would never dream of telling no.

  My stomach constricts inside my belly as I realize what he’s done, but I somehow get the feeling this is only the beginning of the mind games to come.

  “Oh, I’ve got that covered,” Mom tells me. “It would be nice if you showed Damien to the guest room before we eat, though.”

  A breath sputters from my chest. “Wait—why?”

  Damien’s gaze narrows in my direction, his eyes threatening to destroy me if I don’t start acting anything less than elated that he’s here.

  “Didn’t Damien tell you?” Mom asks me with a curious tilt of her head.

  I shake my head, the only part of me that’s allowed to shake even as my heart thunders in my chest.

  “That was my mistake,” Damien declares, leveling an apologetic grin at my mom as he sweeps a hand back behind his head. “I thought Windy already knew, but I must’ve just got my wires crossed.”

  “Well, that’s okay,” Mom says. “I’m sure there’s already been enough on your plate since you got back.”

  He smiles again, but all I can see is the devilish smirk of a serpent. “You have no idea.”

  Mom looks at me. “I told Damien he was more than welcome to stay with us for a bit.”

  “What?” I say plainly, my mouth dropping open and staying open until I’m able to catch myself. “I mean, what happened?”

  “My dad wasn’t exactly happy when I signed myself out of the academy, so I’ve been crashing at different places since I got back into town.” Damien raises an eyebrow at me from behind my mother’s back. “But things change.”

  “Well, you’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like,” Mom says. “I know Windy and I are glad to have you back. Besides, I’m sure your dad will come around eventually.”

  Don’t count on it, I think and it nearly makes me feel bad for Damien. For as long as I knew him and Jessa, their father had always been a stubbornly stern force to reckoned with. There didn’t seem to be a man that existed past the entity of Sheriff Black.

  But I can’t help thinking Damien has planned this, regardless of the circumstances. He knows my mom isn’t the type to turn away someone looking for help, especially a friend of the family. Because of Jessa, our worlds will always be interconnected.

  “Windy?” I hear Mom’s voice as my tunnel of vision narrows into pinpricks around Damien.

  This can’t be happening.

  “Huh?” I still manage to respond.

  “You’re shaking your head, honey.”

  My gaze shifts back over to my mother. “Sorry,” I murmur. She has to realize having him here is hard for me, even if it’s at the most basic of levels. Still, I try to give her a cheerful smile, trying to stay the rock I’ve been for her since we lost Dad three years ago.

  She smiles back at me. “Can you show Damien to his room?”

  Not even the guest room anymore. Now it’s just his room.

  And it’s the one right next to mine.

  Fuck my life.

  I give a nod, not wanting to let him see me sweat. But I know he can sense my fear, can smell it in the air with one wisp of his forked tongue.

  Fuck the Snake Eyes. I have to decide here and now that I won’t let them consume me, and it all starts with showing Damien Black he can’t break me.

  I lock eyes with him. “Follow me.”

  2

  Even though I've been to the Jacob's place before, I've never been upstairs. My eyelids lower over the teasing hemline of Windy's plaid uniform skirt as she climbs the stairs in front of me. Her steps are almost excruciatingly slow, and I'm breathing down the back of her neck by the time we make it to the top.

  "Quit stalling," I say into her ear, watching as goosebumps raise on the part of her neck exposed by her high ponytail.

  She's always been too fucking cute for her own good, invading my thoughts long before I ever wanted to
destroy her.

  It was almost shockingly ironic when my sister brought her home for the first time. Windy was in the same grade as me, but up until that point we had never spoken. Before she became Jessa's best friend, she had always unnerved me, had always been way too quiet and shy for a girl that looked like her.

  Later, I would realize that was just Windy, a girl softer and gentler than her name implied. It was why someone like Jessa was drawn to her. They were sensitive souls, two flower children joined at the hip who were supposed to help each other weather life's storms.

  Only that didn’t happen.

  That’s why I’m here, taking up space in Windy’s life so that she knows I haven’t forgotten.

  “The guest room is right here—” she begins, but I ignore her, heading towards the door I know belongs to her room.

  I pause just before I step inside. Two years at military school has made me forget what a girl’s bedroom looks like. Everything back at the academy was austere. A bed was for resting after a grueling eighteen hour day, a schedule employed day after day, meant to break me.

  Only I didn’t let it.

  Well, this is interesting, I think, taking in Windy’s decadent four-poster bed. I imagine her lying spread out on its surface, naked, wrists and ankles bound to the posts. Waiting, begging for me to make her come.

  I’ve always known she’s liked me, at least, before any bad blood was sown between us. I could see the way her cheeks would tint when I walked into a room, saw the sidelong glances she thought she was so good at hiding. I liked the attention, but I liked her thinking I was untouchable just as much. Besides, she was Jessa’s best friend, and I didn’t need my sister feeling like she had to share someone who had obviously become one of the most important people in her life.

  The two of them were nearly inseparable, until they weren’t.

  “What do you want?” I hear Windy say from behind me, an apprehension in her voice I can’t help but enjoy.

  I turn towards her. She’s standing in the doorway just the way I did back when I caught her going through my sister’s shit. I had known exactly what she was there for when I heard her climbing the stairs, and it wasn’t a fucking sweater.

  “I just wanted to see where I’m going to be spending some of my time during my stay,” I tell her, turning towards the chest of drawers next to her closet and sliding the top drawer open. “Jackpot.” I sling a pair of lacy pink panties around my index finger. “First try and I found your…unmentionables. A thong, Windy? Really?”

  “Stop it,” she tells me, her voice lit with panic as she takes two steps towards me.

  “Is this what I think it is?” I say, ignoring her as my hand dips into the drawer again to shift a stack of her underwear out of the way and expose the item she’s tried to hide underneath. I flick the switch on the end, the vibrator buzzing in my hand as a laugh escapes my lips.

  “Put it back!” she hisses, crossing the final distance between us.

  I switch it off and bring it up to my nose, watching the way her eyes widen desperately. “Smells like plastic anyway,” I tell her, not bothering to hide my disappointment. But I’m still interested. “You keep your toys that clean, or you just need someone to teach you how to use it?”

  She yanks it out of my hand, and stuffs it back in the drawer before slamming it shut. “It’s for stress relief. It’s good for you, okay?”

  “I bet,” I say, amusement tinging my voice. “I’m sure you’re into all kinds of self-care these days.”

  Windy stifles a yelp behind her bitten bottom lip when I grab hold of her and drag her down onto the bed with me. It doesn’t take much, because she stops fighting almost as soon as I touch her. Her blankets are scented with the light, powdery scent of her, one that threatens to make me hard, even as I shift her body underneath mine to pin her against the bed.

  She stares up at me with scared brown eyes, waiting for my next move.

  “Know what would be even better for you?” I ask, sweeping my hand down to the hemline of her skirt, one that’s crept up her thighs to expose the white triangle of her underwear.

  “Stop—” she pants desperately, but the way she shivers under my touch says something different entirely.

  “My dick,” I continue, stilling my hand against her leg. Her skin is soft and smooth, even when it prickles with goosebumps. “Pumping in and out of you while I hold your little toy against your clit. What do you say?”

  Her lips part but she doesn’t say anything, and her mother’s voice rings out from downstairs. “Dinner’s on the table!”

  Windy’s dormant hands press against my chest weakly, like she already knows I won’t be moved. “What are you going to do?” she asks in a low voice as her eyebrows arch into a frown. “Force me?”

  “You fucking wish.”

  “Why would I wish that?”

  “Because,” I tell her, raising my hand to sweep across the reddened surface of one of her cheeks. “I know you get off on playing the victim, and I have no intention of giving you the satisfaction. Quite the opposite.” I let my hand fall back down to her leg, my palm slapping against her skin hard enough to be heard outside this room. My fingers grip into soft flesh until she gasps against my chest, and it’s exactly the response I want. “I’m going to make you want it so bad, you’re going to be begging me to fuck you by the time I’m through.”

  Windy’s lips purse together in defiance, and I smirk.

  “What’s the matter, Wind? Thinking about it now?”

  She averts her gaze, long eyelashes fluttering down over her eyes as her cheeks heat again.

  “Or maybe you already have,” I tell her. “Either way, I’ve planted the seed, and I know you can’t resist getting it good and wet.”

  She bucks against my hand as I give her leg another squeeze, and a laugh sputters from my lips.

  “So sensitive.”

  It’s fucking hot. But messing with her like this is only one of the ways I plan on tormenting her before I’m through. I’ll make her pay for what she’s done by any means necessary.

  “My mom is going to wonder what we’re doing,” Windy utters, but her argument is weak, betrayed by the need in her voice.

  “Let her,” I respond. “Maybe she’ll get curious and come up here. Then again, I’d hate to make her jealous when she sees me with you. I know that’s why she’s letting me stay here—”

  “You’re sick,” Windy utters, top lip curling up to bare her teeth like a trapped animal.

  “Come on, I bet she’s been lonely since your dad croaked. I don’t mind a little community service—”

  “Fuck you,” Windy spits back at me, pushing me away harder this time, so hard her bed springs creak under the joined weight of our bodies as she struggles.

  In reality, while Windy’s mom is attractive, if only because I can see the bits of Windy in her, I would never dream of touching her. For the longest time, only letting myself dream of touching Windy was the sole option I thought I had. She was off-limits back then, but she’s not anymore.

  Everything changed once Jessa was out of the picture.

  Everything has changed because Jessa is out of the picture.

  I’ve been fixated on Windy ever since I let her out of my grasp the first time, when she stared back at me with guilty brown doe-eyes from the confines of my sister’s bedroom. It was the first time she ever begged me, but it won’t be the last.

  My palm sweeps against the outside of her thigh, and I smirk at the way she shivers. “Thanks for showing me around,” I tell her, lifting my body away from hers to get to my feet.

  She doesn’t follow suit, her eyes watching me from the bed where her skirt is still pushed up over her legs. My eyes wash over the graceful curve of her calves and her thick fucking thighs. I knew they had felt like a handful, and my cock throbs at the thought of them wrapped around my head while she wriggles underneath my tongue.

  “What do you want?”
she asks, like she can read my mind.

  My eyes must say I want something, to dominate her, to dominate this city, to get revenge, all of it. I’ve lost two years of my life because of my sack of shit father, and the thought of living again fills me with a drive that’s borderline inspiring.

  Because there’s no time like lost time.

  I let my face harden again as I gaze back at her. “You wouldn’t look at me the way you are now if you didn’t know what I wanted,” I say. “I let you go the last time I saw you because I knew you were fucked. The whole time I was boarded up at that prison of a school, I counted down the days until I would make you pay. And now I’ve come to collect.”

  The Snake Eyes will be the vehicle I use to make her pay off most of her debt. Enlisting her to do my bidding the first time had been too easy, showing me she would offer little resistance because of the leverage I have on her. Punishing her at the same time I build the gang back up under my leadership is a simple two-birds-with-one-stone opportunity too obvious to ignore.

  Windy stares back at me with a stony expression, but I know she won’t stay cold for long. Not when I plan on continuing to hold her feet to the fire.

  “See you at dinner,” I say, winking at her before I leave. “Roomie.”

  3

  I follow Damien downstairs a minute after he leaves my room, collecting myself enough to leave the shelter of my bedroom. The façade of security has been broken anyway, and I know I won’t be safe anywhere in this house as long as he’s in it.

  How could Mom make this decision without consulting me first? While it’s true Damien has always been a friend of the family through Jessa, it’s because of her that having him around in the first place has become so hard.

  But it’s also painfully obvious that Damien reached out to my mother with a sob story he knew she wouldn’t be able to refuse. Who even knows if Damien’s parents wouldn’t let him come home? Maybe it was all just an elaborate lie to place himself closer to me for the sake of revenge.