7. Levi
LEVI
From my bedroom window, I watch my father’s Range Rover pull up outside the front of the building.
I can’t help it, I’m eager to get a first glimpse of this girl my father is so insistent on bringing home for us.
It’s not like him to take risks—he has a connection to her and people will have seen them together—and I’m wondering what’s so special about this particular girl.
I understand she’s been through some shit in her life, but just because she’s suffered from trauma doesn’t automatically make her a good fit for us.
The truck doors open, and my dad climbs out of one side. A moment later, from the passenger side, two long legs in black pumps appear, followed by a tall but curvy body, and a head with a shock of red hair that falls around her shoulders.
Red. Like a fox.
Does she like to be hunted?
The girl gazes up at Windridge Hall. Though they’re at a distance, I note how her eyes widen with wonder at the place.
It is impressive. I’d hated the hotel when my dad first brought me here.
What sixteen-year-old wants to be holed up in a falling down hotel, away from all civilization?
But, over time, I’ve grown to love this place.
It’s become a part of me. I became a man while trekking the mountain paths, and chopping down trees for wood, and fishing in the rivers.
I’ve grown used to the silence and the peace.
I no longer have to care what anyone thinks of me, or if I’ve upset someone over something I’ve said or done.
I can just be myself, and that’s a special kind of freedom.
The presence of this girl has the power to upend that peace, and I’m not sure how I feel about it.
My attention is drawn back to her, and I study her some more. Her skin is pale and lovely. I wonder how it will look with branded marks all over it.
My father doesn’t get the girl’s bags from the trunk right away.
She turns away from the hotel to take in the view.
I watch as my father moves in behind her and starts to point at what I assume are the property boundaries. I narrow my eyes at his proximity to her. He’s doing that deliberately, though he’s trying to make it look innocent. I’m surprised he’s not grinding up against her ass already.
I know I’m going to have to introduce myself to her.
It might be possible to live here without us ever coming in contact with one another, but I don’t want her to waltz in and think she suddenly owns the place.
She needs to know she’s right at the bottom of the pack—hell, she isn’t even a part of the pack.
She and my father finally step apart, and they get her belongings from the trunk. She’s holding a big black folder of some kind. What is that? But no, I don’t want to become interested in her as a person. She’s nothing. Just warm blood and skin and a pretty mouth and pussy, I’ll bet.
We’ll have our fun with her.