Chapter 34 Kip
KIP
Twenty minutes later, I navigated my car through the narrow alley that ran behind Holland’s house, my attention darting from fence to fence, scanning for any signs of neighbors or Draco.
The sun was still high, casting long shadows across the neighborhood, which made sneaking around feel extra risky.
I parked my car beneath the thick branches of a massive oak tree—the leaves overhead forming a patchwork shield that hid most of my car from view.
Before I got out, I leaned over and pushed the button that popped the trunk.
Inside, a messy pile of clothes greeted me, and I dug through it until I found what I needed—a pest control shirt, faded blue, with a stitched patch that read “Mitchell.” I changed quickly, the cool air brushing my skin as I tossed my old shirt back into the car.
Then I locked up with a soft click. If anyone noticed me, I would just say I was there for a routine bug inspection.
The disguise would hold up—I looked the part.
To my relief, no one saw me as I entered Holland’s place through the back door. Silence welcomed me, and I swore under my breath. Where was she? I located my cell in my pocket and messaged her again. This time I let her know I was in there in case she returned.
Another hour ticked by as I wrestled with the idea that Holland might be my …
shit. I couldn’t even think the word. Every time I thought of her naked and under me, my cock got so hard it hurt.
Entertaining the idea of watching her fuck herself with my cross wasn’t going to help when I had to break things off with her. How the hell had this happened?
I knew though. The Pied Piper had planted himself in our lives without our knowledge for years, playing all of us like a puppet master. Every time we turned around, we learned a new secret about him, and how he’d orchestrated so many events in our lives.
Finally, my phone pinged with a text message. I hurried to grab it out of my pocket, my heart in my throat.
Holland:
I’m on my way home. I’ll see you in an hour.
Me:
Okay.
Gray dots jumped on the screen, indicating that she was messaging.
Holland:
We need to talk.
Me:
Yeah, we do.
I seriously doubted we were going to bring up the same topic that we needed to discuss.
She had no idea what Dope had found or even who the Pied Piper was.
My shoulders slumped forward with the weight of the needed conversation.
I couldn’t kiss her the second I saw her or even hold her.
I would lose my shit and not stop. My cock begged for her tight cunt, and then a little voice inside my head whispered, “Sister, dude.” My dick had never deflated so damn fast.
The anticipation gnawed at me like a relentless itch I couldn't scratch, and the waiting was driving me to the brink of madness. I doubted my sanity would hold out until she arrived. Desperate for distraction, I rummaged through her refrigerator, scanning the contents until they landed on a package of ground beef. Inspiration struck, and I resolved to prepare her spaghetti—a dish that held a sentimental place in my heart. My uncle, despite his flaws, had a knack for cooking, and he’d passed his recipe down to me when I was older.
The thought of the rich, savory sauce bubbling on the stove filled me with a sense of purpose as I gathered the ingredients.
I searched for a pot and pan and began cooking. I timed the food to finish around the time she should be at the house.
It seemed like an eternity later when the front door opened and Holland walked in. It fucking sucked that I had to keep my distance, but I held myself back and waited for her in the kitchen.
“Hey,” she said, her tone soft.
I leaned on the kitchen counter and crossed my ankles. “Hey. Are you okay? Draco didn’t come after you or anything, did he?”
She slipped her purse off her shoulder and set it on the kitchen table.
Holland looked amazing in her dark wash blue jeans that hugged her ass and legs.
I wanted to part those legs and lick her pussy until her juices were dripping down my chin.
Stop! I pinched the bridge of my nose in a vain attempt to stay focused on the conversation that we needed to have.
“I haven’t seen him, which makes me nervous.” She reached up and removed the scarf from her neck and tossed it on the table.
Guilt swallowed me whole as the outline of my fingers on her throat glared at me. I reminded myself that I’d hurt her, and it was another reason to keep my distance. I couldn’t trust myself not to black out again. I just didn’t understand why it had happened or how to stop it from happening again.
“Something smells good.” She sniffed the air as she walked to the stove. “You cooked me dinner?”
“Yeah. I needed something to keep me busy.”
She turned to me and placed her palm on my chest. “I need to talk to you.”
Her eyes lifted, soft and searching, and she rose onto her toes, closing the space between us. For a split second, I thought she might kiss me—and God help me, I wanted it. Needed it.
But Lily’s face slammed into my mind, her name on Holland’s lips, the puzzle pieces twisting into something I couldn’t untangle. What if I was right? What if Lily wasn’t just my mother but hers too?
The bruises on her throat. My fingerprints. Her red hair glinting the same way Lily’s once had. My gut knotted, nausea and need warring inside me.
At the last second, I pulled back, turning to the stove and stirring the food as if it mattered more than the fire burning between us.
I didn’t dare look at her. I couldn’t. If I did, she’d see everything I was hiding—the guilt, the hunger, and the fear that she might be my sister.
“Same, but you go first.”
She wiped her palms on the thighs of her jeans as if they were sweaty. She was nervous. She should be, I’d tried to kill her, and she had zero reason to trust me.
“I … I visited Lily today.”
Oh. Shit. I already knew she was at my mother’s, but that didn’t mean she’d seen and talked to her.
“When you told me she lived nearby, I had to see the woman who—.” Her words trailed off. “Sold me.”
I stirred the noodles before I drained them over the sink, waiting for her to continue.
“I thought … I wasn’t sure what I was thinking really. I needed to see her, to see her dying. I needed to stand in front of her and prove that she didn’t destroy me.”
I set the pot back on the stove and turned off the heat.
“How did it feel?” Funny how Holland and I had swapped places. That was typically her question to ask patients, not mine. As calm as I appeared, I was barely holding my shit together.
“Good. Bad.” She paused and her gaze dropped to the floor, then returned to me.
“I wanted to kill her for what she did to Ally and me, and there’s no telling how many other innocent lives she ruined.
Is it wrong that I wanted to kill her? Actually, I showed up with the intention of doing just that. I even aimed my gun at her.”
A thousand voices in my head cheered for Holland. “I wish you had pulled the trigger.”
Holland shifted from one foot to the other while playing with the diamond pendant on her necklace.
“Have you thought about killing her after what she did to you? It would make sense if you had. No judgment over here.”
I chuckled. “So many times. I can’t … even after all the fucked-up shit she’s done, I can’t cross that line. Plus, it would put her out of her misery, and I would rather see her suffer until the day she dies and rots in hell.”
“What stops you? Is it because she’s a woman, or because she’s your mother?”
I chewed on her question for a moment. I hadn’t given much thought to it other than I couldn’t have her blood on my hands.
“Both. A part of me doesn’t even connect with what happened all those years ago when I killed that girl. Whatever really happened, it was driven from a different place inside me. A shadow self that I don’t know any more. Killing monsters is my gig. Not women.”
Holland closed the gap between us, the light scent of her flowery perfume teasing my senses and shooting straight to my cock. I wanted to wrap her in my arms and kiss her, but I couldn’t.
“She’s a monster, Kip. There wouldn’t be any shame in ending her. You even know how to destroy the evidence.” Her tone was soft but sincere, as if she was giving me permission to do the one thing that I’d wrestled with for years. Killing my own mother.
Holland pursed her lips into a thin line. “When I talked to her, she admitted hurting you. She has no remorse for what she did to either of us. I don’t think she’s capable of feelings, honestly. I actually went to see her for another reason, to find out what else she did to you.”
I frowned as I crossed my arms over my chest, putting a physical boundary between us so I wouldn’t grab her and carry her to the bedroom.
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s sit down. First, I need a glass of wine. Would you like a drink?”
She walked to the cabinet and opened it, revealing a few bottles of red wine, a bottle of vodka, and two bottles of whiskey.
“I think some whiskey would be good. Something tells me this is going to be a helluva night,” I said She had no idea.
After we settled on the couch with our drinks and turned to each other, I waited for the bomb to drop—that we were blood, that I’d fallen in love with my sister, that every kiss was another scar waiting to happen. Beads of sweat broke out on my forehead, and anxiety caught in my throat.
“I’m not sure how to say this.” She shifted on the cushion, clearly nervous.
“Just say it, Holland. I think I know what you’re going to say. There’s no easy way, so put us out of our misery.”
She tilted her head, a gentle expression softening her features. “Oh, you think I don’t want to see you anymore?”
“Something like that.”
She scooted closer to me and placed her hand on my thigh as she kissed me softly.
I should’ve stopped her. My body begged me to let her. But my soul? It was already hers.
“That’s not what this is about. Not at all,” she said against my mouth.
I wrapped my fingers gently around the back of her neck, inhaling her scent as our lips met with a desperate intensity that felt like my very existence hinged on her.
It did, and yet, I had to convince myself to let go.
Her soft moan vibrated through our kiss, our tongues entwining as I sought more of her taste, teasing and yearning.
But then, she pulled back, a smile on her lips. “I want you too, but we really need to talk. This can’t be put off any longer.” Her words hung between us, leaving me torn between desire and the gravity of what lay ahead.
Little did she know that would be the last time I kissed her in that way. It felt wrong to want her, yet I couldn’t deny that I did, which meant I was forced to deal with the inevitable—saying goodbye for good.
“Listen, when you blacked out and choked me, there was something strange about it all.”
Her words made me flinch internally, torn between shame and curiosity.
“I'm not telling you this to make you feel guilty, Kip. In fact, I think I know what happened.”
I was both intrigued and apprehensive. “You do?”
“I had a client years ago who had been abused and tortured, but it went further than that.” There was a hint of excitement in her tone, and it unnerved me.
“What do you mean?” I asked, needing to understand but fearing the truth.
“Kip, not only were you drugged over and over, but …”