Chapter Three
Will didn’t do anything to us over the robbery, and I can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing. It might mean that he’s saving it up to really cash in. He’s slapped me a handful of times, but never in the presence of anyone else—not even my mother.
Thankfully, she had a good night and spent the evening with us, rather than locked in her room. I can’t help but wonder if she knew what happened and that we needed her.
“He looks at me weird,” Eliza says, wiping down the counter. The moment feels like déjà vu, and I almost expect three masked men to come rushing into the store.
“Who looks at you weird?”
I already know the answer. It’s the reason I installed an interior deadbolt on the door of the girls’ room. My stepfather either didn’t notice or didn’t care that I had done it.
“Uncle Ron,” Eliza eyes me wearily. “I got out of the shower last night, and he was right there, Sara.”
I swallow hard, bile threatening to burst from my stomach and up my throat. I hate that she calls me Sara—like Aiden always used to—but I hate it even more that Ron is once again creeping around under the cover of darkness. He was paralyzed from the waist down for three years, which was enough time for me to grow up and become unappealing to him.
But it was perfect fucking timing for the girls.
“You have to keep the door locked and maybe use my shower. He’s not supposed to be in the house, ever.”
“Yeah, but you know that Will never listens to Martha’s rule.”
“No, but when she’s sober, he does…” My voice trails off, because we all know how far and few between those occasions are. It almost never happens. My mother is almost always drunk now. She’s been that way since my stepfather changed from a loving new husband to an abusive dickhead.
I miss my dad.
But I push the thought away. He’s been gone for most of my life. There’s no point wishing back someone who was really never there from the beginning.
“I’ve seen him watching Lilly, too.”
I shake my head. “I’ll keep him away from you all, even if Will doesn’t.”
“Why does Will let him stay around?”
I shrug. I don’t have an answer for her. “I don’t know. I guess because he’s his brother and that’s his only freaking friend.”
“Maybe if he wasn’t such a dick, he wouldn’t have a problem. I swear, sometimes I’d rather be back in the group home.”
I nod, unable to speak as her words send my memory off the rails.
***
Eight Years Earlier…
“Look who’s had a shower.” Ron’s voice sends a chill down my spine as I open the bathroom door. His dead green eyes are focused on the water droplets cascading over my collar bones.
“Please just let me get to my room.”
He’s blocking the exit though, and he doesn’t budge.
His yellowed teeth flash at me in a grin. “Don’t be shy, Sahara. Let me see what you have under that towel.”
I swallow hard, shaking my head.
“No.” I was barely sixteen. “Please let me through.” I try to peer around him. Where is my mom? Where is Will? Where is Aiden?
“No one is home, sweetie.” He takes a step forward, his hand reaching for the gray towel that’s wrapped tightly around my body. “I’ve noticed you’ve been maturing. You’re at my favorite age, you know…”
I trip over my own feet, crashing down backwards onto the black and white-tiled flooring. I let out a wail as pain sears up through my tailbone, tears gathering in my eyes. Ron takes advantage of the moment and rips my towel off me.
I’m naked. Under his gaze.
I can’t miss the tent in his gray slacks, and I feel the urge to vomit as I try to cover myself. Sobs rattle my chest as he dangles the towel.
“See. How hard was that, Sahara? Look at those perky little—” He doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence as his body is suddenly careening backward and slamming into the wall. I use the moment to jump to my feet, my awkwardly maturing body still uncomfortable to me. I need a towel.
“You fucking psycho!” I hear Ron croak out from the hallway, and that only serves to send me into more of a panic. Did someone break in? Footsteps grow heavy as Aiden becomes visible in the doorway. His face is red, and there’s blood on his knuckle.
He’s seventeen, almost eighteen now, but he looks like a fully grown man—other than his boyish face. His razor-sharp jaw and muscles make all the girls at school swoon. My friends remind me that he’s my foster brother, but I don’t see him like that… Not anymore. I have a crush.
Now he’s staring at me. Naked.
“Oh my God,” I squeak, grabbing the shower curtain and pulling it over my body.
“It’s okay, Sara,” he says softly, wiping the blood from his knuckles onto his jeans. “Ron ran out to the pool house.”
“Will is going to be mad… at you.” My face heats up as his dark eyes hang on my form.
“He can beat me again if it makes him happy,” Aiden snorts, flipping his golden-brown hair out of his face. He lets it get a little long, showing off the slight wave—further making the girls fall apart. Who knows how many girls he’s slept with at school…
My eyes fall to my bare feet.
“Here.” He steps into the bathroom and holds out my towel. “Please put this on.”
“Sorry.” I take it from him and try to wrap it around my body without him seeing me. I’m certain that he still does. His gaze isn’t focused on me though. He’s staring at the wall.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get here faster. I got hung up at practice.”
“I’m not your responsibility.”
“You are, Sara. You’ve always been.” He looks back at me and then reaches out to grab my hand. I wince, and he retreats.
“Did he touch you?” Aiden whispers, his dark-brown eyes troubled.
I shake my head, my wet hair slapping my shoulders. “No. He hasn’t touched me, ever. I think he might’ve today though…” I feel ashamed to admit it. I’m terrified of what Ron might do to me if he gets the chance—but only Aiden knows. When I try to talk to my mom about it, it’s as if she doesn’t hear me.
Probably because she’s not listening. All she cares about is her booze.
But Aiden cares about me. Even if it’s not in the way I want him to.
“Let’s go, come on.” He gestures toward the door, and I follow him hesitantly. I messed up tonight, thinking that I could take a shower without bringing my clothes into the bathroom with me. It’s my fault. Not Aiden’s. But he’ll blame himself. That’s what he does.
“How was practice?” I ask as he closes the door to my room behind us. I don’t want him to see me as a pity case. I want him to think I’m strong. I want him to fall in love with me—like that Taylor Swift song about Romeo and Juliet. I want that. With Aiden.
“It was fine. But I’m quitting the team,” he says as he plops down on my bed. “I can’t be away from the house for hours at a time.”
“No, please don’t.” I hug the towel around me. “I don’t want you to quit football.”
“Come on, Sara. It’s not as if it’s going to lead to a college scholarship—and even if it did, I’m not going to college. Not until you do.”
My brows furrow. “Why?”
Aiden has never mentioned this before. In fact, he has never talked to me about his future at all, in all our seven years of knowing each other. He was brought into the house when I was eight, almost nine. Right before my father passed away.
“Sara, stop. You know how I feel about you.”
“I don’t need you to be my protector, Aiden. You always just want to watch out for me, but I’m sixteen. I can drive. I can stay away from him.”
“But you couldn’t just a minute ago.” Aiden stands up, towering over me. We used to be almost the same height, until he suddenly shot up and I quit growing. “And I don’t blame you for that. I don’t want to go anywhere if it’s not with you.”
I blink up at him pursing my lips. “I don’t even know what you mean, Aiden.”
His mouth turns into a frown. “Don’t you get it? I feel like I only fucking exist to be here with you. You’re the only thing that matters to me.”
I want to read into his words and see him looking at me like something other than a pesky, needy little sister. But I’m scared to make that assumption.
My silence makes Aiden let out a heavy sigh. He slips past me to my dresser and pulls out a pair of my black underwear. He knows it’s my favorite color. He holds them out to me and then continues shuffling through the drawers before handing over a pair of pajama shorts and one of his T-shirts.
“I need a bra…” I say the words with heat in my cheeks.
“We’re sleeping. You won’t need one.”
I swallow hard and look away. Aiden and I have been secretly sharing a bed since I was eleven and began dealing with Ron’s creeping around me. But now, I feel self-conscious about it. Not because I don’t want to sleep with him—but because I want to sleep with him. I want him to touch me in all the ways he never has.
“Get dressed, please.” He says the words with a tense jaw. I reach for the clothes as he turns his back to me. I drop the towel to the floor and pull on my underwear and his shirt. I don’t want the shorts. They ride up at night. I kick them under the bed so he won’t notice. His shirt hangs past my ass anyway.
“Done.”
He turns to face me, his eyes sweeping over my figure. “Gorgeous, Sara. As always. Do you want me to braid your hair?”
I shake my head. “Not tonight.” I flip the covers back and climb in onto my side. He does the same, watching me.
“You know, we won’t always be here, in this house. I’ll buy us a nice place.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I roll onto my side, fighting the tears. I don’t want him to see me cry tears of relief that he thinks I’ll always be there—but also, I still feel like a leech.
The weight of his body lands on the mattress, and I hold my breath as he settles in. He always gives me space. But suddenly, an arm snakes around my waist. I gasp as he pulls me into the warmth of his body. My ass presses against him…
And I feel him.
Am I turning him on?
I bite down on my lip as he holds me in this new way. He’s held me against his chest before, but this… this is intimate.
I like it.
A lot.
“I’ll get you out of here. I promise. Sometimes I used to wish I never would’ve left the group home, but that was before I realized my purpose was you.”
I choke back the tears. “Me?”
“Yeah, you.” He brushes my hair out of my face, and his lips land lightly on my cheek. He tightens his grip. “I love you, Sara. Always.”
If only I’d had known what he would do a week later.