Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
DRAKE
Cadence resumes struggling, though she must know it’s useless. The twist of her shoulders makes me wince in sympathy, then I stifle the sensation.
She handed my mother the weapon she used to kill herself.
I’m desperate for her, but until I get oversight of the full part she played, I can’t afford to succumb to the hunger inside me.
I’ve given her an ultimatum but as her scent rises from the lacy panties balled in my fist, I’m desperate for her to refuse. To let me take the penalty and slide her wet pussy over my straining cock until we’re joined. To feel her heat wrapped around me, riding me until she’s coming on my dick instead of my fingers, me pumping cum inside her instead of leaving sad stains inside my clothes.
Each time I drive the fantasy from my head, it comes back stronger.
My heart is tearing from my body with how much I want her, and I hate how she’s the one restrained but I’m the one who’s trapped.
I run my palm over her bare hip, forcing my emotions back as I watch the need flicker in her eyes.
When I run the blade over her skin, she shivers, and it stirs my excitement to see the fear warring with desire. I stroke further, caressing the plump curves of her arse next, letting out a low groan that makes her shoulders hunch and the muscles in her thighs clamp tight either side.
My eyes close and I fight to swallow as sensations flood me, every part of me attuned to exactly how it would feel to push inside her.
I sublimate the craving and this time it’s a little easier.
I can do this. All I have to do is to calm myself. To focus on what I need from her now and leave the rest for later.
Then my fingertips brush against the wet lips of her pussy and my hunger explodes. My arm clamps her in place as I arch my back to rub against her. The friction intensifies my cravings until I shake with need.
“No,” Cadence whimpers and the soft rebuttal makes me harder. I pull her head against my chest, playing with her hair.
Losing my focus.
“No,” she repeats in a panicked tone while her arousal drips over my fingers. “This isn’t what you said.”
“You’re right,” I agree in a calm voice. “It wasn’t.” My tone lightens, menace lurking in my soft tones. “It would be such a shame to take me like this, wouldn’t it?” Her head whips to the side as I nuzzle into her neck, my mouth sucking her lobe before whispering, “With no input and no control.”
A shudder ripples through her body as my hand caresses her hip, her arse, her pussy; each stroke encompassing more of her bare skin, embedding each curve in my memory to replay at my leisure.
“Please …” She hangs her head like that one word diminishes her to nothing. Her cheeks fill with colour as I run my finger along her slit, gliding through a spill of desire.
Even when she acts like she hates me, her body still reacts to my touch.
“Don’t lie to me,” I say in my softest voice. Her eyes cut to the side in such an obvious tell, that I burst out laughing. “Just be honest and I won’t have to hurt you. I won’t have to take a steeper forfeit.”
I reach up, playing with her hair.
“You’re in control right now,” I remind her. “It mightn’t feel like it, but you’re the one who gets to choose what happens next. If we have a nice, honest conversation or if I stuff those panties into your mouth and take you as roughly as I want.”
She closes her eyes, wincing. “You arsehole.”
“Mm. Arsehole.” I let my finger move away from her delicious cunt to spread her natural lube around the hole in question. Her thighs clench against the intrusion, giving me a dizzying insight into how hard those legs would squeeze as they wrap around my hips. “That’s an idea.”
“Let me go and I’ll tell you.”
I chuckle and the sound vibrates with danger. “I’m happy like this, and you don’t have any leverage.”
The fight drains, and she slumps forward, head hanging. “I don’t know who Madelaine Summers is. The pills came from a pharmacy.”
“No shit.” It was a legal printed label I fished from the trash next to my mother’s cooling body, but the address was torn off because someone knew what they were doing was wrong. I rub my thumb along her windpipe. “Maybe offer a hint to which one.”
“When you tell me why you care.”
My lips curl into a smile against her cheek. “You might be in control of whether I continue or stop, but I’m the one who makes the rules.”
She opens her mouth, but nothing emerges. I give her time, counting out the seconds until two full minutes have passed. More than enough to clear the logjam in her head.
“Why don’t you answer an easier question first?” I rub my thumb along the silky skin of her inner thigh, watching her muscles twitch and clench in response, her jaw tightening. “Those pills you kept under your pillow. Were they ever prescribed to you?”
After a moment’s hesitation, she shakes her head.
Pity tugs at me for a second. “Just because your mother always reached for drugs first doesn’t mean you have to.”
“I need them to sleep.”
“Most people visit a doctor when they struggle with insomnia. You could get a valid diagnosis and treatment. Or here’s another thought…” I move my mouth to her ear. “If your conscience keeps you awake at night, maybe you should try to be a better person.”
There’s a flurry of movement, leaving her exactly where she started but now with her mouth open, sounds alternating between panting and sobs.
“You’re the reason I can’t sleep,” she seethes in a voice quickly clogging with tears. “Why don’t you try?”
My hand grips her throat before I can think. “If I’m unkind to you, it’s only because you deserve it.” And my nerves are too raw to continue for much longer. “Which chemist?”
She shakes her head, energy waning.
“Looks like I have your decision, then.” I reach down to stroke myself, growing harder at her ragged gasp.
“No!” Cadence pants, struggling against her bonds and failing. She licks her lips. “I’ll tell you, I will. It’s just… I need to understand why you want to know. Why do you care?” Her voice drops to a consolatory whisper. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have given the pills to Harriet. Believe me, I’m never going to do that again.”
“But you’re happy to take them yourself?”
A crack of anger snaps out of her. “Not all of us found a rich daddy. I’ve been doing the best I can with what I have.”
I give a coarse laugh. “Your best leaves a lot to be desired.”
“Says the firebug.”
“You don’t have the higher ground here, Cadence.”
She has no standing to demand the information, but as we glare at each other, I understand if I don’t give her something, we’re at a standstill.
“Because my mother overdosed on the same prescription made out to the same name.”
Her eyes widen, flecks of moonlight reflecting off the burgeoning tears until they shine. “Drake, I-I—”
My hand clasps her throat, gripping hard enough to cut off her words. “No. I don’t need your fucking pity. Answer the question. If you won’t take responsibility, give me someone else to blame.”
CADENCE
I screw my eyes shut, dipping my head, knowing he can read my expressions through years of practice.
The same way I sometimes read his.
Like now where the pain pulses from him, desperation in his voice as he tries to find answers to a question he refuses to understand.
His mother killed herself.
The method doesn’t matter.
But I won’t be able to convince Drake of that and I can’t afford to tell the truth. Not when that path leads him straight to my mother. If he treats her with a smidgeon of the contempt he’s used on me, she will curl into a ball of negative energy, and I won’t see her—the real her—for years.
Maybe never again.
“The pharmacy is around the corner from the flat we had back in year nine. The chemist was part of the mall, but it moved to the corner of the roundabout a few years ago.”
I see the flash of recognition in his eyes. We were a low-income neighbourhood, and they offered half-price prescriptions; everyone used them.
“And who is Madelaine Summers?”
“I don’t know.”
His fingers clamp tightly on my hair, giving a sharp tug. “That’s not a good enough answer.”
“But I don’t.” My voice turns shrill, and I wince, but continue, needing him to believe me so we can get past this. “When customers don’t pick up their prescriptions, the chemist sells them.”
“Right.” He gives a dismissive laugh. “And you paid him with what? We both know you’ve never had money.”
Indignation burns through me.
I had money. The cash it took me months to save and mere seconds for Drake to donate from my phone.
But I bite down on the retort, understanding what he means. “I paid him in other ways.”
I try to sound mysterious, and he bursts into snide laughter. “Oh, did you, virgin girl?” Drake shakes his head, lips crinkled with mirth. “Doesn’t seem likely.”
“I blew him not the… not the other.”
But his laughter grows stronger. “Sure. How about you demonstrate exactly how that went, hm?”
He pulls out his knife again and before I have time to gasp, leans forward and cuts the tape binding me to the steering column, untangling my bra and tossing it into the bucket seat.
My shoulders give another protest as I move my hands in front, massaging my wrists and pulling off the wrinkled tape. Drake leans forward, gently taking hold and rubbing his thumb across the bruise his father’s pinch left on my skin.
His concerned eyes search mine for a second, then he shakes his head, releasing my arm.
“Go on. One demonstration and I’ll leave you alone.” I try to clamber from his lap, but he holds my hips steady. “Do you want me to sit or stand or lie down?”
“I’m not—”
He pulls my head beside his, warm breath puffing across my ear. “Are you going to get on your knees in the dirt for me?”
I shove him, hard, and he releases me, letting me shuffle into the passenger seat. “You have nothing I want.”
“Oh, really.” He arches an eyebrow and lets his gaze slowly wander across my bared breasts, dropping to where my dress is hiked above my thighs. “Are you sure about that?”
With a wide smirk, he sucks his middle finger into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around it, smacking his lips together when he’s done.
And his grin grows broader. “It tastes like you wanted plenty.”
I ignore him, cheeks flaming, I pull my dress together, buttoning and fastening what I can before pulling on my seat belt and folding my arms. “Now what?”
“Now I take you home and you can spend the night thinking of all the things you wanted me to do to you.”
My eyes smoulder as they meet his. “I meant about the pharmacist.”
He pulls some straggling bits of tape from the wheel, not providing an answer as he starts the car and drives us home, the rumble of the garage door rollers ominous in the dark night.
When I get out of the vehicle, it’s like a million years have passed since I left to go to the game.
Drake blocks me when I head for the front door, trailing a finger down the side of my neck, then pressing his palm against my breast.
“These are mine.” His voice is soft, but with a backbone of steel. “No one is allowed near them. You can do as you want but if another boy touches your tits, I’ll break his arm. Understand?”
My heart beats harder with every possessive word. “I understand you’re fucking crazy.”
And like I knew he would, he curls his warm hand around my throat, holding me steady as a joyous flood of desire takes hold, setting me alight.
“Shh,” he whispers into my ear, lips buzzing. “You don’t want to wake Arnold by accident. He’s a grumpy man when you interrupt his beauty sleep.”
I open my mouth to offer a rebuttal, maybe a scream to test his theory. Then I slowly close it again, not speaking a word. There’s an edge to Drake’s expression that makes me wary.
His thumb rubs across the tender skin of my bottom lip. “These are mine, too.” He bends and sucks it into his mouth, teeth and tongue grazing it hard enough to swell before releasing.
With the fingers of his free hand, he delves underneath my dress, pressing his brutish hand against me. “And this is my pussy. You’re not allowed to share this pussy with anyone but me.” His fingers slip inside me, moving with gentle teasing strokes until I clench my teeth to hold back a moan. “If another man tries, he’s dead.”
I slap his hand away and his grip on my throat tightens.
“You don’t get to decide,” I protest, my voice too shrill to believe.
“Yes, I do. Why? You think Hudson would be a better caretaker?” An edge creeps into his voice. “Ask at school about bingo cards if you want to find out who your friends truly are.”
Bingo. The sound makes me shiver. The same word the boys used before cutting off my exit. And what had Gretchen said? “ The moment Hudson reports a win, it’ll be over...”
I want to know more, but not now and not from the boy in front of me.
Instead, I raise my chin. “I think I’m the best caretaker, thank you.”
It’s hard to read his face in the dim lighting of the carport but I hear his huffs of amusement, especially when his thumb lightly presses on my carotid artery, feeling how my pulse races.
“Do you know what I think?” He doesn’t wait for my answer. “You’ll go to bed tonight and dream of all the things I could have done to you and didn’t.”
My core throbs at his words, images already spilling into my head along with a flood of mixed messages that grow worse as he cups me, the heel of his palm pressing against my pulsing clit.
“You’re mine to take whenever I feel like it. I’ll even be a nice guy and give you back your pills if you want them.” His eyes lock to mine. “Just be aware, every time you take one to sleep, I’ll sneak into your room and help myself to whatever I want. Your choice.”
I snarl as I peel away his hands, knowing the only reason I can is because he lets me.
“If that’s not enough, think how good it’ll feel when I question this pharmacist, and he denies everything you told me.”
A spark of fear ignites.
The man doesn’t know me and is hardly going to lie on my behalf. The truth rests on the tip of my tongue but I can’t say it out loud. I can’t condemn my mother.
I hang my head.
“Because when he does, I’ll do everything I wanted to do tonight while you’re wide awake to appreciate every moment.”
His breath is ragged, jaw clenching as he pulls me closer.
“And we both know you’re lying.”