Chapter 17
I don’t even makeit out of the jail parking lot before curiosity eats away at me, and as I slip into the driver’s seat, I open the note my brother gave to me, and read the first few lines.
My Love,
I know you don’t want anything to do with me, and I don’t blame you….
I read the rest of it quickly, my gut clenching with every desperate word. Apologies. Placations. Declarations of undying love. I shake my head, and wonder how he can love someone who has done this to him, thrown him to the fucking wolves, and left him to his cruel fate?
I suck in a breath, and quickly fold the note back up, shoving it into my glove box. Reading that note unsettled me, my heart hammering against my ribs. Why? I sit in my car, staring out of the windshield, and realize, it’s because I recognize the energy in those words. That same dark obsession is pulsing inside me.
My brother’s voice swirls inside my head. Once you get a taste of her, trust me, brother, you’ll always want her.
As I start my engine, I glance at the glovebox, and decide to get rid of the letter as soon as possible. I’ll throw it away at the next gas station, because every second it’s in my possession, I feel something: guilt, betrayal, anger. Sadness for my brother. It’s all too much. He should never have written it, and I definitely shouldn’t have it in my fucking glovebox.
The next four hours slip by as I recount every word of my conversation with James. Every time I visit him, I’m drained afterward, and this visit was no exception. I could sleep for a fucking week.
Seeing my brother in that God-awful place fucks with me more than anything ever has. Even the fucked-up shit with my dad. When we were kids, my brother absorbed most of the abuse, but at least we were together. But last year, when shit went down, we were ripped apart for the first time in our lives. And for what, lies? Exaggerations? To get back at him for breaking up with her?
The way shit went down is hard to accept.
But, Christ, I feel like I’m slipping into madness. If I’m not thinking about my brother’s shitty situation, then my thoughts are focused on Lux. And the truth is, I’m feeling things for her that I thought I would never feel in my life. Things I never wanted to feel. And the fact that I do isn’t sitting well with me.
Don’t be a cunt. Get your shit together.
My dad’s words come back to me uninvited. They do this. Moments of self-doubt feed the monsters that my dad put inside my head. They live for this shit—any evidence that he was right about me.
Worthless.
Coward.
I scream into the silence of my car, slamming my hand against the steering wheel. Fuck this. I need to follow through with the plan, then everything can go back to the way it was with me, my brother, our lives. Everything from the past year can be fucking erased.
I can erase Lux.
I can.
I have to. I have no other choice. After I’ve gotten what I need from her, I’ll cut her out of my life, like I’ve cut out every other person, with exception of my brothers: Lucas, Christian and Jackson.
When I roll up to Rush House, it’s a riot, per usual. Even on a random Tuesday evening, it’s a party at my place. People are smoking on the front porch, lights flashing inside, music pouring from the windows. I guess it’s a good thing we don’t have any real neighbors to speak of. The only people who might complain is campus security, but they don’t seem to give a fuck.
I pull in the driveway and park, then walk through the backdoor. There are about a dozen people in the kitchen, drinking. Someone is making mac n’ cheese on the stove, and it’s boiling over, so I reach over and turn off the burner.
“Roman!” someone calls out.
A member, Tony, comes up to me, and grabs my arm. He’s obviously stoned. “Damn, dude, you missed the show.”
I remove his hand, and stretch my arm. I can only imagine what he’s referring to. “Yeah, I’m cool missing Christian breaking his own beer pong record for the third time,” I say, bored.
“No, no!” One of the Debs steps forward. She sways, clearly drunk. “Your girl. She threw her Ramen against the wall, then kicked Nicole out!”
She relays the story like she knows the facts will anger me. But I can’t make sense of what she’s saying. Why the fuck would Lux kick one of the Debs out of my house?
“Where is she?” I ask impatiently.
“I don’t know,” the chick says. “When Lux kicked her out—”
“I don’t give a fuck about Nicole,” I interrupt. Goddamn, these people. “Where’s Lux?”
No one can answer that, though, and the chick just continues with all of the offenses that were inflicted on Nicole. “She was crying, and you know what, she really didn’t say anything that was—”
I wave her off, pushing past her. “I really don’t care. I’m going to bed.”
People are talking, trying to tell me what happened, but I’m not even listening. Seeing my brother has taken it out of me, and God only knows where Lux is. I’ll shoot her a text as soon as I get up to my room, and for her sake, I hope she answers.
I make my way to my bedroom, and when I step inside, I notice the lights are off. She must be gone, and I mentally prepare myself to leave and go find her. I can’t allow her to run around on her own, especially at night, and especially with that dipshit Tyler lurking around campus.
But when I flip the lights on, I see her lying in my bed, tangled up in the sheets, hand on her stomach, asleep. Her head is turned to the side, mouth open slightly, and damn, she looks so beautiful like that.
I approach the side of the bed with the intention of shaking her awake, but my hand stops midair as my gaze roams over her. She’s dead asleep, like she hasn’t rested for days, and her body has finally given in. Even with the loud music downstairs, she’s out.
I take the opportunity to study her. She has no makeup on, but that doesn’t matter. She’s a natural beauty. Smooth, flawless skin, and pink, bow-shaped lips, perfect for nipping, and biting.
My gaze continues down her body, to the swell of her breasts, the soft curve of her stomach, and the flare of her hips.
Fuuuck.
I curl my hands into fists at my side, resisting the urge to touch her. I could fuck her right now. She might fight me initially, but I know I could have her. In my current state of mind, though, it would be violent. And messy.
Tearing my gaze away from her, I head into the bathroom for a cold shower. Honestly, I really just want to wash my brother’s warning off me.
Once you get a taste of her, you’ll always want her.
Yeah, too fucking late for that. But as I step onto the cold shower tiles, I congratulate myself for walking away from her. See? I’m not like my brother. He can’t control his obsession, but that’s where we’re different. I can. I just walked away. I can’t be obsessed if I walked away.
I can just hear my brother now, inside my head. You’re a delusional cunt. Sleeping beside her without touching her is the true test.
I shower quickly, towel off, then find my pajama bottoms and tug those on. I’m not quiet about it. Maybe I’m secretly hoping she wakes up, so I can suggest a hotel room. When I thought up this whole scheme, I didn’t consider actually having to sleep next to her.
Roman, you’re an idiot. You fucked yourself.
My own voice this time. But…facts.
Fortunately, my bed is huge, and two people can comfortably sleep on it without ever even bumping into each other, so there’s that. I turn off the light, then slip into bed, tugging a sliver of sheet over me. She’s got most of the sheet tangled between her thick thighs, and damn, I’ve never wanted to be a piece of fabric so badly in my life.
With a huff, I lay back on my pillow and stare up at the dark ceiling. It doesn’t help that her delicate scent fills every fucking breath I take. My cock is swollen, knowing her soft curves are just inches away. How easy it would be to roll over, spread her thighs, and sink into her decadent heat. Would she resist? If she did, that would just add to the excitement of our little game.
No.
Fuck.
If I take her now, I’ll rip her apart. And she’d probably fucking like it, too. She plays innocent, but there’s something dark inside her, too. Something that pulls at me in ways I hadn’t anticipated. And I just want to taste it. That darkness. One little taste before I go to sleep.
Pulling in a long breath, I fist my hands at my sides and force my eyes closed. Idly, I wonder if anyone has ever died of blue balls because right now, they’re rock-fucking-solid…