25. Thatcher
25
THATCHER
A grin splits my face as I enter through the front door to what is now my house.
We did it.
Dad is dead and gone, and all that belonged to him is ours. All those years growing up under the same roof with him, that bastard making us suffer day in and day out... We'd lived in hell. Now he lives there permanently. But as much as I’m thrilled that the job is finally done, I’m not satisfied.
Being back in the same room with Beatrix Starr earlier this afternoon was like a balm to a full body burn. Her presence drove the madness from my mind and settled the frantic, desperate ache that filled me the moment she walked out of my motel room. I could breathe for the first time in twenty-four hours. I felt more than a little better—I felt damn well untouchable. But that feeling is waning. It’s beginning to grow harder to think clearly as the frenzy and desperation for another hit of my stepsister claws at me.
Tilting my head back, I close my eyes and try to steady myself. It won’t do to be so unhinged. It's hard to settle myself though as I conjure up the image of Beatrix standing there with a look of grim satisfaction as we took care of her bullies, like a goddess witnessing her condemnation come to fruition. I get hard just thinking about it.
Who knew how beautiful it would be to slowly watch the corruption of another? Sagan and I have always been fucked up. And Knox? He came to us a little mad. But Beatrix? Her spiral will be a slow but steady progression. Sagan watched as her resentment grew over these last few months before self-preservation drove her to reach out to us. Yet today her acceptance of another two deaths was from retaliation. I couldn’t have been more proud of her.
Soon, we’ll make more family moments like that together.
My feet take me in the direction of the kitchen where the banging of pots and pans are clanging away, and the savory aroma of something mouthwatering wafts. As I enter the room, I take in the set kitchen table-—accessorized with candles, glasses full of red wine, and silverware. The plates are stacked at the island, where Knox is placing down our dinner. He looks up as I approach, the exasperation on his face clear as day.
“New appliances,” he snaps at me as I check out the massive lasagna. “I almost burned this thing a million times because that antique won’t stay at a consistent temperature.”
I chuckle. “Whatever you want, Pretty Boy.”
“I want them soon .”
“Find the ones you want and they’re yours. Though I do think you should plan the kitchen renovation before adding the appliances.”
At this, Knox's face lights up, all traces of his annoyance vanishing. His bright grin is devastatingly handsome. It's one of the things that attracted me to him in the first place. Though gaining my attention while I'm on a hunt is never a good thing. Unfortunately for Knox, he found that out the hard way.
“Don't worry, I already have the kitchen of my dreams designed up in here.” He taps the side of his temple with the end of the spatula. “I'll draw it up and we can get to it right away.”
My chuckle is soft as I prowl over and come up behind him. “Why do I have a feeling this renovation is going to cost me an arm and a leg?”
Knox's body shakes hard as he laughs. I can feel it as my hands land on his hips and I drag him back into my body. I don’t completely close the distance between us. As much as I ache to, I know what that would do to Knox. And while I enjoy his screams, tonight I just want to celebrate our win.
“Interesting choice in words,” he purrs with amusement.
I glance at the dinner he's prepared. The meaty lasagna smells and looks delicious. Then again, there isn’t a meal that Knox doesn’t go all out for when he gets the chance to cook. However, the better looking meals usually host a dark surprise. Given his comment, I have a feeling tonight is one of those nights.
“Which one is it? An arm or a leg?”
Knox's body trembles with his soft snicker. “Neither.”
I dip my face so that I can skim my lips up his neck. Knox shivers.
“Whatever it is, I will enjoy it. I always do,” I murmur. With a heavy sigh, I let him go. “Where's my sweet little stepsister?”
Knox laughs loudly. “Can you call someone sweet if they can stand there and watch someone get cooked?”
“It makes them the sweetest,” I assure him and laugh softly as he looks over his shoulder to flash me a grin.
As I start to step away, the young woman in question walks into the room.
She hasn't changed from her black, fashion-forward romper yet. It shows off the lovely silhouette of her curvy frame, hiding all skin yet leaving little to the imagination of what's beneath it. The two plaits in her hair have become a bit frizzy, and the makeup she wore earlier has been wiped away. Still, she’s beautiful. Maybe even more so now that she belongs to us.
In her presence, the world shifts violently. I don’t realize I’ve been viewing the world around me on a tilted axis until it straightens. When I told Knox she was the final piece of the puzzle, I hadn’t been exaggerating. Her presence causes my wayward soul to finally settle. With Knox and Beatrix sharing this life with Sagan and I, I know my life couldn’t possibly be fuller.
“Knox, I forgot I'd hidden this under the floorboard to keep Mom from selling it. It’s my grandmother’s. Do you want— oh !” She looks up from the small emerald-green velvet box in her hand and freezes just inside the kitchen when her gaze lands on me.
I watch as my stepsister's chest expands as her breath catches and her eyes widen in surprise. God she's beautiful. My dick stirs as my eyes trace her over face, committing it to memory. With a deep breath, Beatrix's shoulders drop, and her feet move toward us. Her expression shutters before it becomes reserved and speculative, just as it had been at the bar when I sidled up beside her.
“Good evening,” I greet, giving her my best smile.
“Hello again.” She stops beside me. It doesn't slip past my notice that she keeps an arm's length between us or the bright flash of curiosity in those beautiful, large amber eyes. “It's Thatcher, right?”
My smile grows bigger. “You can tell me and my brother apart, wonderful. It's the hair, isn't it? My brother has the wild man look going with all that hair in his face, but I prefer a more… civilized appearance.”
Knox snorts loudly as he slides the plate of food toward me. “You? Civilized? In what fucking world?”
I chuckle and Knox throws me a warm look that sends heat blazing through my veins. Jerking my attention away from him, I look back at my little stepsister who watches the two of us closely.
“Sure, your hair is a dead giveaway, but there are other tells,” Beatrix admits, her voice subdued. Her gaze travels over my face as she asks a heartbeat later, “Did you… Is Trevor… gone?”
“Yes, he’s been taken care of,” I confirm. My eyes travel over her face, searching for any sign of regret or terror in her expression. Instead, I find a flare of relief in her eyes. “Sagan’s just finishing up some stuff down at the funeral home, and he should be here any minute now, but that particular job is done.”
She bows her head gratefully. “Thank you.”
Knox throws back his head as he barks out an incredulous laugh that causes Beatrix to flinch in surprise.
“Who knew you’d ever get thanked for killing someone, Thatch? Is that weird for you? It’s weird to hear even for me,” Knox says as his laughter dies down. He leans his forearms on the island and eyes the box in her hand with interest. “Whatcha bring for me, Starr Girl?”
With a generous amount of care, Beatrix places the jewelry box on the island before sliding it toward him. “I was moving some of the old stuff out of the primary bedroom for you and forgot I'd hidden these. I don't want them. I thought maybe you might?”
“Be careful gifting Knox with anything.” I’m only half teasing as I say this. “Giving our Pretty Boy gifts is like giving gremlins water after midnight. He becomes a spoiled brat quickly.”
A look passes between Knox and Beatrix—one that I can’t quite decipher. Something must’ve transpired between the two of them while Sagan and I were busy. Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been too bad given that neither looks upset. Both just seem speculative.
“I can't help if the people I hang out with spoil me. There were bound to be consequences, Thatch,” Knox replies with a chuckle as he looks away from my stepsister to the gift she’s brought. His face lights up as he snatches the box off the island. When he opens it, Knox pauses in surprise before he lets out a loud gasp. “A pearl necklace? Really? You can't take them back now that you've given them to me!”
Beatrix's small, reserved smile comes and goes. “They're yours.”
I groan, and it brings her gaze back to me. “Giving Knox jewelry is even more of a terrible idea. It'll go to his head.”
“It's already there. Actually, it's around my neck, but close enough,” Knox corrects as he fashions the jewelry into place.
Rather than check out the necklace, my eyes remain trained on my stepsister's pretty face. Unable to resist, I reach up and stroke it with the back of my hand. I expect her to recoil or cringe. After all, these same hands helped shove a man to his fiery death. To my delight, she doesn't. My heart stumbles before righting itself as Beatrix tilts her head into my hand. Her eyes roam my face, curiosity lighting up those beautiful golden irises.
“I must admit, you’re taking our acquisition to your life quite well. Are you not afraid of our debauchery, Little Sister?”
Her gaze jumps from me to Knox and then back to me. Oh how I ache to know what she’s thinking. For a moment, she purses her lips as she regards the two of us. When her mouth finally relaxes, she speaks.
“I probably should be,” she admits slowly. Her eyes flash with some unspoken emotion and though I can’t quite place it, I have to suppress a shudder under its intensity. “But so far, you’ve only helped me. And between Sagan’s visits and our, ah—” She glances nervously at Knox who’s too busy studying his gift to notice before looking back at me. “—time together, I’ve never felt more alive. I want to be here with you.”
I close the short distance between us. Grabbing her chin with one hand, I brace my other on the edge of the island behind her, effective trapping her against it. Her gasp is a pretty sound that sinks into my psyche.
“We’ll have you experiencing life to its fucking fullest, Little Sister,” I promise. “What we have together will only get better as we familiarize ourselves with one another.”
Her face twitches, cringing some before the expression smooths away. My laughter is softer this time.
“You don't like the familiarity?”
“Not really.”
“Tough, because I do,” I lean down and kiss her before she can say anything else. Her soft lips don’t yield for me, not like last night, but it doesn’t matter. Her uncertainty will melt away in time. I feel featherlight as I pull away. Fuck, is the room spinning? I laugh as I realize I might be quite drunk off a single kiss. “It makes what we have so much more special, don't you think?”
Despite the pretty pink that gathers beneath her warm brown cheeks, Beatrix manages to keep her composure. Her head shakes slowly. “What do you think we have?”
“Oh I think you know, Little Sister ,” I taunt, chuckling as she cringes lightly again. “I think we fit together pretty well, you and I.”
Her mouth parts as her brows furrow. “Oh, you mean sex… That’s why you’re keeping me alive?”
I snort. “If good sex was enough to stop me from killing people, there'd be a lot less people buried in various places along the side of the road, I can promise you that.”
Knox laughs at Beatrix’s flinch. “You don’t react when we throw someone in your fancy ovens down at the funeral home, but you’ll recoil at the news that we’ve killed a lot of people and left them various places? Oh, Starr Girl, I hate to break it to you, but we’ve been doing this for ages.”
Beatrix looks between us, confusion and worry twisting her pretty face up. With her composure shaken, I can read her loud and clear. I grin.
“Does this scare you? Oh well, we’re not going to sugar coat our life for you, Beatrix. You're in our world now, which means you get to know all the dirty, bloody details.” I reach out and grab hold of one of her braids. “As to your question, while the sex was phenomenal, it's what we have in common that makes you special to us. Your blackened soul calls to us, looking for others like it, and we're happy to answer. You are ours now, Beatrix Starr.”
The smile that stretches across Beatrix’s face stuns me into momentary silence. What ever could I have said to inspire such a?—
“No one has ever helped me before, but you guys have—twice now.” Beatrix tilts her head almost all the way back to stare up at me. Her eyes twinkle with such raw adoration that I question how I’ve even come to earn it. “I owe you. So whatever you want, it’s yours. Will you…” Her cheeks turn a light pink. “Will you let me be your good girl, Thatcher? I was once, I can be again. I’ll show you that I’m worth the risks you’ve taken.”
Oh… I blink slowly as her words sink in. She’s offering herself to me. Oh god, first she gives me her soul and now she’s giving me her body. My chest constricts. When I suck in a deep breath, I find I can’t quite fill my lungs.
My stepsister is offering herself up as a beautiful sacrifice.
One I have no intention of forsaking.
I groan. With each thump of my heart, the rhythm increases in tempo. I can feel it beating down between my legs as my dick stiffens. Sucking in a sharp breath, I breathe in the heady power I now have over her. That she’s willingly giving me.
“Oh boy, you think giving me gifts is a bad idea?” Knox sighs loudly, drawing me back into the moment. “Letting Thatcher control your life is a whole new can of worms. He loves control.”
My laughter is a bit strained as I look back down at Beatrix. “Your willingness to please me has proven to be fruitful in the past. But that was just one night.” I reach up and grab her chin. “How far will you go to please me, Little Sister?”
Her eyes continue to twinkle, appearing unnerved despite the fact that I hadn’t hidden the hunger in my voice, while resolve and determination harden the rest of her face. “As far as you need me to go.”
My thumb slides across her bottom lip, more than pleased by her response.
“We’ll see about that.” I glance over to Knox who’s cutting up three more large pieces of the lasagna and plating them. I grab two plates full of food and nudge my head toward the table. “Let’s eat before dinner gets cold.”
“Where the hell is Sagan? He’s taking forever,” Knox asks as Beatrix and I move away.
“Here,” Sagan announces as he saunters into the room.
Just as I had, my brother moves around the island and greets Knox first. He reaches out to grab our Pretty Boy. It’s a simple hold around our companion’s neck but Knox’s face turns red as he blushes and then tilts his head up to accept Sagan’s kiss. Smirking, I place the two plates in my hand on the table. Then I pull out a chair and have a seat. Beatrix moves to take the seat beside mine, but I shake my head.
“Come here, Little Sister.”
Beatrix looks at me, hesitating for just a second before she comes to stand beside me. “On your knees, Beatrix. Let me see how well you’ll obey and indulge my every whim.”
Before she can move again, Sagan is there behind her. He grabs one of her braids and tugs it, yanking her head to the side. Her gasp is cut off as he lowers his face to her neck and runs his tongue up the column of her throat.
“Finally, Little Viper, you’re ours.” Can our stepsister hear the timbre of desire as he growls into her ear?
Like a door flinging open in the middle of a tornado, through our connection I’m hit with his emotions—so intense it knocks the breath out of me. It’s a mixture of excitement and madness, violence and delight. It’s the most I’ve ever felt from him at one time.
Beatrix lets out a contented sigh as he nips at her ear.
“Yours,” she breathes softly.
A hard shudder rushes through me. Fuck. Her compliance and acceptance are fucking beautiful.
“On your knees, Little Viper,” Sagan murmurs before he steps back. He drops her braid and plods around the table to sit with his meal at the head of it. “Knox, I’ll bring in all your bags after I blow up the air mattress for you to use tonight. We’ll get you a real one tomorrow.”
Knox beams at Sagan but I focus my attention on my sister.
A shy smile tugs at her mouth. Slowly, she lowers herself to the floor, kneeling like she’s before an altar. She bows her head in a wordless, reverent thanks before she looks back up at me expectantly. Fucking hell… My dick is so hard right now I can hardly think straight. With Beatrix on her knees like this, I'm presented with so many opportunities to see how far she’s willing to go for me. It takes a second for me to breathe through the urge to push Beatrix to extremes tonight right here in front of Sagan and Knox. This isn’t an initiation test. We’re past that. I just want to see how easily she accepts her position within our little family unit. I decide what I want to do quickly as I note the dark, tired circles under her eyes.
“You look stunning down there. Here, let me take care of you,” I reach forward and cut a bite of lasagna with my fork before stabbing and lowering it to her lips. Beatrix doesn’t hesitate. Her mouth opens and her lips wrap around the fork. A heavy moan follows as her eyes roll. I shoot my Pretty Boy a pleased smile. “Hear that Knox? Your dinner is appreciated.”
Knox’s mouth stretches into a smug smile as he joins us at the table. “It’s all the ingredients.”
My smile freezes in place. I hold his gaze and give him a subtle shake of my head in warning. We’ll ease her into some things, especially this. Knox sighs loudly and turns to Sagan.
“Can I get a king-sized mattress?”
As the two of them discuss the logistics of a mattress that size going up two flights of stairs, I grab my glass of wine and the one meant for Beatrix. I hand her one, then I look at my brother and Knox.
“Our first night in our first home, gentlemen,” I raise my glass. “I think a toast is in order.”
Sagan grunts but reaches forward and grabs his glass. Knox grabs his glass too as he jumps up to his feet.
“To murder, mayhem, and a fuck ton of fun,” he declares loudly.
I tip my glass in his direction. “Well said, Knox.” I glance down at my stepsister on her knees who’s watching me. “And to new beginnings.”
“To new beginnings,” she whispers back.
I down my wine quickly, unnerved by the shine of sincerity staring back at me. Knox is right, her willingness to give me control is going to go straight to my head.
“Little Sister, I do have to warn you. Our presence in your life might not be a comfortable adjustment for you,” I tell her as I cut her another bite of food. My dick hardens further as she wraps her lips around the fork and pulls away. As her tongue slides over her lips, I choke back a groan. “Good girl.”
Her subdued smile disappears as she ducks her head in an attempt to hide it.
Knox laughs. “Who wants a comfortable life? Comfortable is boring.”
“Indeed,” I agree. To the woman on the floor I add, “Just because we’re not going to kill you, doesn’t mean you’re entirely safe with us. We play many games, Beatrix, and you’ll be a part of them. We’ll scare you, make you scream, we may even draw a little blood. It’s just who we are and how we play. But don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of things quickly, and once you do, you’ll have just as much fun as we do. It took Knox, oh, I’d say about two months to catch on, and now look at him, happy as a fucking clam.”
Beatrix looks back up, her sweet smile fading, but she nods once in understanding.
“There will also be rules to follow,” I add darkly. “Rules we’ve put in place to make sure not only that we get along, but to keep us safe. If you break one, you’ll be punished, and I promise, you won’t like it.”
My stepsister tilts her head to the side to consider this. “Alright, what are the rules?”
The three of us sitting at the table all chuckle darkly. Beatrix’s brows furrow as she captures her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Figuring out the rules is just another one of our games, Little Sister. You’ll learn the rules the hard way, just as Knox did. That way, you’ll never forget them.”
A shiver of apprehension rushes through my stepsister but, to her credit, she releases her bottom lip and manages to straighten her shoulders. A flash of determination brightens her amber eyes.
“Then let the games begin, Big Brother .”
Sagan’s delight at her response explodes in my chest, following my own.
Not killing Beatrix Starr is going to be the best decision we’ve ever made.