Chapter 15
It’s eerie how quiet the house is now. I feel like I’m walking into a mausoleum when I enter.
It isn’t my heartache and embarrassment causing me to feel that way, either.
There’s something about the coldness in here, the lack of warmth or charm.
Some people might call it elegant or tasteful.
I think it’s a waste of money. I’d rather live in a comfortable, slightly cluttered house where I feel at home.
My footsteps echo off the floor as I walk to the stairs, then climb them slowly, exhaustion finally settling in and dragging me down.
There’s only so much a person can take. After that face-off with Deborah, I’m waving the white flag.
I’m done for the night. So what if my mother finds out I left early?
I doubt she’ll miss me. She might be glad I’m gone, come to think of it. This can be my wedding gift to her.
It feels great to get out of this sticky dress and wash up in the shower.
I wish I could wash everything off, all the dirtiness I feel deep down inside, but soap can only do so much.
I know in my heart it’s up to me whether I choose to give in to the depression and despair Colt and Nix clearly want me to sink into.
It’s up to me whether I feel dirty and used. I’m not going to let them break me.
Though it’s probably easier said in my own head when I’m here alone. I can breathe freely for once without the fear of somebody walking in on me or finding some way to make me miserable.
Nobody’s here.
Which means nobody would know if I…
Nope. I need to shut down that line of thinking right now before it takes root.
I shouldn’t. I’m only asking for trouble, aren’t I? I shake my head at myself, determined not to stir up more problems than I already have. Sure, everybody is at the wedding, and I’m positive they’ll be there for hours—things had hardly started by the time I left.
That doesn’t mean I can sneak around, nor does it mean I should.
Yet by the time I’m finished putting on my pajamas, curiosity is threatening to kill me.
There has to be something I could use against them, something I can hold over their heads the next time they want to hurt me.
Obviously, the threat of going to the police means nothing, especially thanks to that little recording Colt made.
Could I find something just as damning? I can’t be the only girl they’ve hurt this way, and I can’t be the only one they’ve recorded for posterity.
There’s only one way to find out, and the longer I spend fighting with myself, the more time I waste. That’s why, even though the house is dark and quiet, I run down the hall on tiptoes and enter Colt’s room.
There’s a laptop on his desk, and since it’s the only thing sitting around that looks even remotely useful, I open it in hopes of being able to access some of the files without needing a password.
Maybe luck is finally going my way since a swipe across the trackpad with my finger opens up the desktop.
A tingling sensation rushes over me, and my heartbeat picks up.
I listen hard for any signs of someone coming home early, but the only thing to reach my ears is silence. This is as good a time as any.
Is he this stupid or simply so full of himself that he doesn’t think to cover his tracks?
There’s a folder right there on the desktop with my name on it.
What could he possibly have? Maybe a copy of the audio file from last night?
Not that I want to hear it again, but it would be good to know they have a backup sitting around.
The folder contains a few items, the first of which is a video. I can’t tell much from the thumbnail, so I click on it, hoping against hope it’s not anything too disgusting.
I guess my luck can only run so far since, instantly, I’m transported back to the night of the party.
The night they both forced me to suck Nix’s dick.
I want to turn my eyes away from it, but I can’t stop watching.
From this vantage point, it’s even more disgusting.
The way I so obviously struggle, and the tears in my eyes.
The gagging, choking sounds I made while the brothers only laughed at me.
The cold, nauseating sensation of being helpless washes over me and makes me shake. How dare they? Who do they think they are?
Before I can click on the second icon, the lid to the laptop snaps shut, and suddenly I’m face-to-face with none other than Nix himself. “Bad girl.”
“I…” Shit. How the hell am I getting out of this?
“What? Snooping through my brother’s shit or just strolling down memory lane, thinking about getting off to the memory of having my dick in your mouth?”
“No, no, that’s not what I want,” I somehow whisper, even though I’m close to hyperventilating.
“Don’t you know what happens to little girls who can’t keep their hands off other people’s things?”
Not only is he here—in my face and obviously bitter—but he’s also drunk.
I smell it on him, on his breath. Even his sweat sends the scent of alcohol wafting my way.
His speech is a little slurred, but his eyes are sharp when they narrow on me.
“What are we going to do with you? You little snoop. Can’t be trusted home alone. ”
“I was only—” Anything I might have offered to defend myself melts away when I swivel around in the chair to find Colt standing in the bedroom doorway.
And not only Colt, either. “You never know when to give up, do you?” Deborah demands, disgust dripping from her voice. “It’s like you’re begging for everybody to hate you. Maybe you have a mental problem or something.”
They’re all drunk; that much is obvious. She’s leaning against the wall for support while Colt looks as sloppy as I’ve ever seen him. They must have done a lot of hard drinking, very fast. It hasn’t been all that long since I left the reception.
“Fine, you caught me. I just wanted to see if there was anything you guys had on me—and I see there is,” I add, my voice shaking in spite of my attempts to sound strong. “It’s disgusting what you have there. How can you live with yourselves?”
“Oh, now she’s all high and mighty,” Deborah announces with a laugh. “But then she’s used to that. Always thinking her shit didn’t stink.”
“Not so fast.” Colt stops me before I can escape, locking an arm around my waist and pulling me away from the door so Nix can close, then stand in front of it. “You’re not going anywhere.”
I’m going to be sick. These are the last three people in the world I need to be alone with. “Please, I was only trying to—”
“God, does she always whine like that? How do you keep from throwing her ass down the stairs?” Deborah steps up, getting in my face while the guys laugh. “Whiny little bitch. So pathetic. Maybe if you had stayed out of here, this wouldn’t be happening. Ever think about that?”
“Now, why would she mind her own business? That’s too much to ask.” Colt leans in, breathing on my neck. “She would much rather act like a victim and whine and cry about how mean everybody is to her. You got yourself in this situation. Only you.”
Like they wouldn’t have found some other reason to get on my case even if I had stayed in my room all night. “I get it, okay?”
“No, not okay.” Nix sits on his desk chair, straddling it, arms crossed over the back. “What do you think we should do to her as punishment?” he asks Deborah.
Her eyes light up, and my mouth goes dry. This is going to be bad. “I don’t know. There are so many possibilities.” She snaps her fingers, beaming. “I know. We strip her naked, shave off all her hair, and leave her in the middle of nowhere.”
Nix and Colt burst out in hysterical laughter while I fight for every breath, thanks to my growing panic. “That’s a good idea,” Nix decides. “I like the naked part, too. The rest of it, though? We’d have a hard time explaining it to the parents.”
She lifts a shoulder. “Then let’s start with the naked part.”
Nix jumps up, eyes flashing, his smile reminding me of a wolf. While Colt holds me still, Nix tears off my pajama shirt. The cool air makes my nipples pucker, and I could die of embarrassment. I could just die. The last sound I hear will be Deborah’s hysterical laughter.
“I have an idea. Hold her still.” Deborah goes to the desk and grabs a black marker. No matter how I try to pull myself free, I doubt I could escape from one of the guys, much less two of them. Not when they’re this determined to humiliate me.
“Now hold still, bitch.” She narrows her eyes, concentrating hard on scrawling the word SLUT across my chest. Every letter she completes makes my stepbrothers laugh harder, louder, until they’re practically howling by the time she’s finished.
She’s only finished with that word, though. She has more to do. Starting from between my boobs, she works her way down to my navel. “W… H… O… R… E.”
“Nice work.” Colt laughs, and all I can do is whimper. “What do you think, Leni? Do you feel more like your true self now?”
“After all.” Deborah smiles in my face like she’s the happiest she’s ever been. “We already know who you are. Now, the rest of the world will know, too.”
Then she looks at the guys. “Turn her around. I’m not finished yet.”
Maybe it’s the chilling flatness in her voice when she says it, or it could be the idea of her seeing my scar and how much worse she’ll make my life once she does.
Whatever it is, gives me the strength I need to break free.
They’re probably too drunk, their reflexes are slow, and I use that to my advantage.
“Hey!” But that’s all Deborah gets out before I fling myself at her, knocking her against a dresser and out of my way. I fly to the door, throw it open, and run like hell down the hall. I fling myself into my room and slam the door before wedging the chair underneath the knob.
“Come on, Leni!” Deborah calls out, her voice getting louder as she approaches.
“We just want to have fun! Don’t be such a pain in the ass!
” Either Nix or Colt says something to her in a low voice, and she giggles.
The sound fades away as she retreats to their room.
I don’t have to imagine what’s going on in there.
So long as they’re leaving me alone, I really don’t care.
Once I’m sure they’re not going to do anything like try to kick the door in, I allow myself to turn away from the door and head back to the bathroom.
The shower walls are still dripping, but I’m about to get them wet again.
There are tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat as I turn on the water and step in, grabbing my mesh sponge and soaping it heavily before I begin the task of scrubbing the marker off my skin.
It’s not easy, but then what is? This is my life, after all. Nothing about it has ever been easy.
My tears mix with the hot water as my skin gets redder and redder the longer I work. I’m not getting out of this shower until my skin is clear. I don’t care if it takes all night and I run out of hot water. I will not allow those hateful words to live on my body.
I will not let her win.