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“My stepdad used to come into my room at night. It started on my tenth birthday. At first, it was just touching. Then, it was kissing. He used to make me…suck,” she choked up.
I kept quiet, pulling her a little closer, holding her a little tighter, pretending to be a ‘good guy.’
“On my eleventh birthday, he started using his pocket knife to carve his…intitals. Told me if I screamed or told anybody, he’d hurt my mom.” She went silent.
I glanced down and saw she was staring at the wall, a dark look on her face.”The ironic thing is that my mom never gave a shit about me, and I wanted to protect her anyways.” She struggled to hold back her tears.
“You don’t have to say anything else.” I didn’t need to hear, knowing the details were far worse than what she was divulging. Already knowing Richard Miller used to stick his dick just far enough into her ass to make it hurt, how he’d jack off and make her swallow.
She was just a little girl that no one stood up for, that no one cared about. I wanted to take her pain away, but then, because of who she was I wanted to choke her with it. I think It was time to end this little masquerade.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The sound of running water let me know Pierce was home for a change. My body was sore, but in a good way. I don’t think we separated at all the night before. By the time my head finally hit a pillow, I was spent.
I looked over at the digital clock as I rolled out of bed. The last time I’d slept till noon was after a night of binge-watching Charmed. After getting myself together in the bathroom, I left the room.
When I finally reached the bottom of the stairs, I froze. There were eight vases of golden lilies sat around the house.
“Do you like them?” Pierce’s voice came from behind me. It’s just flowers, I told myself, seconds away from losing my shit. Glancing back at him, he cocked his head and studied me.
“Well?”
“They’re beautiful,” I lied through my teeth. The flowers were lovely, but I hated them. Someone had left a single bloody lily on my sister’s chest.
“Why lilies?”
“Why?” He circled around me, making his way towards the table we’d spent a good chunk of time on.
“You got lilies. Most people get roses.” Pierce stopped walking and looked back at me, a cold smile on his face. I furrowed my brows, wondering what I missed.
What happened between us from the time we went to sleep until now.
“Roses mean love, and I don’t love you, Rebel. I just own you,” he shrugged and continued walking. I think it was then my heart shattered in my chest and hit the ground. The worst part was that I didn’t know I loved him until it did. Struggling to understand what was going on, I stared at his back.
He was dressed as immaculately as ever in a crisp black suit. His words were delivered coldly, without emotion. It was a harsh reminder of who I was dealing with.
“You can’t own a human being, Pierce.”
“Come sit down, Willow. We need to talk.” Willow. Not Rebel. Feeling much like a scolded child about to be dealt a punishment, I made my way to the table, taking a seat at the farthest end, away from him.
“Have you ever killed anyone, Willow?” He tapped his fingers on the back of a chair, watching me carefully.
“What? No–”
“Have you ever wanted to?”
“What kind of question is that? No.” I didn’t know what he was playing at, but I’d never killed anyone before. I wasn’t sure I could. Unless it was Richard. I’d drag his ass straight to hell.
“What about the time you didn’t put enough heroin in the needle?” He glowered at me. His blue eyes were void of color, so dark they looked empty. The temperature in the room dropped to freezing. How did he know about that? My stomach twisted, and my heart rate shot up.
“I didn’t mean to…I changed my mind. I would never hurt–”
“Hurt her? Well, you did. She cried about it for a week.” He cut me off, his voice hard as ice.
I shook my head back and forth still trying to figure out how did he would know any of this. Unless…
No. No. No.
“You’re…Nick?” My voice cracked. I was too overwhelmed to try and stop it. Too many emotions were attacking me at once.
“Pierce Nikolai Serban, or as Michelle liked to call me, Nick. Sometimes Nicky.” His smile was cruel, but his words were laced with venom. I felt the poisonous effects of them leaking into my soul, slowly siphoning away every defense I had left.
Nothing could have prepared me for this. Not once did I think Pierce was Nick. God, I hadn’t even thought of Nick in years. Michelle. Cassie had preferred being called by her middle name too. I hated it. That was our mother’s name.
