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“What did you do yesterday?” His cold tone cuts straight to the bone. “To Landry?”
“I got a lot further than almost second base.” I smirk at him. “I know what her pussy feels like.”
His jaw clenches. “You fucking raped her?”
“Fuck off,” I growl. “I’m not the only bad guy here. You’re lying to her while you try to get into her pants!”
He shoves me so hard my head hits the mirror wall behind me. Thunk. Glass splinters from the impact and my head throbs from the force of it.
“I should kill you.”
At this, I laugh. “Kill me for fingering her in the bathroom when she fucking begged for it? Come on. Look at yourself. You’re obsessed. She’s the new Ash.”
Sully grabs the front of my shirt, his nose coming inches from mine. Thank fuck his boner is gone or this would be uncomfortable. “Ash was yours. Landry is ours.”
Wrong.
So fucking wrong.
Ash was mine. Landry is mine.
“She’s not yours,” I clip out. “Just like Ivy was never yours.”
“So help me,” Sully bites. “If you fuck our lives up again—”
I shove him away from me. “Stop acting blameless, you fuck. We’re all wired the same way, which is why we always want the same girl.”
“I am not wired like you.”
Before we can unpack that and I can remind him we’re goddamn triplets, a different guy peeks his head around the corner. Unlike the dweeb from earlier, this dude is stacked and could probably take both me and Sully at once.
“I think you two should go,” the guy says, darting his attention back and forth between us. “Haven’t seen you around the building before. If you don’t leave, I’m calling security.”
“We’re leaving,” Sully snaps at the guy. Then, to me, he hisses, “Stay away from her. Deal with your job and we’ll deal with ours.”
I shoot him the bird. “Okay, little brother. Whatever you say.”
He storms off, cursing under his breath. Sully knows better than anyone he can’t tell me what to do.
I do what I want.
I always do what I want.
And right now…I want her.
Landry Croft.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Landry
I screwed up.
Calling Ford and involving him more was a mistake. He’d seen right through my lies. Deduced that my father was the cause of my pain. Again.
But, in my desperate need for comfort and escape, I left Della alone with him. Bile creeps up my throat as I sneak back into our condo. It’s nearly silent, which means he’s no longer on his phone call. Sometimes his calls last for hours, but not this one.
Oh, God.
Rushing to Della’s room, I pray that she’s okay. That he hasn’t hurt her in any way. When I peek in, she’s watching cartoons. She can read some, having picked up on it earlier than most because of her knowledge of ASL, but mostly, she watches her shows when she wants to zone out.
I start to go inside, but Dad’s voice calls to me.
From my room.
Slowly, I turn and walk toward the sound. He’s sitting on my bed when I enter my room. His face doesn’t look any better, and probably won’t for weeks, but he’s showered and shaved what he could.
Shame makes his blue eyes shimmer with pain.
I don’t understand his hurt since he’s the one always inflicting it.
“Sweetheart,” he starts, frowning at me. “I’m…”
Sorry?
You’re always sorry, Dad. Always.
The sorriest dad on the planet.
I want to scream at him. To accuse him of being a disgusting monster, but I don’t. I can’t make the words leave the prison of my mouth. They’re trapped, just like me and Della are in this condo.
“You know I’m sorry,” he rushes out. “You know this isn’t me. That isn’t me.”
Elaborate on that, Dad. What exactly is that?
I may not be able to say the words, but I know my pain and hatred for him can’t be masked. Not right now when my nerves are so raw and I can still feel his mouth on my neck. No amount of kissing Sully could erase it.
“I know you’re disappointed in me.” He swallows hard, lowering his stare. “Let me make it right. You can have anything you want. Just name it.”
Freedom.
It’s on the tip of my tongue.
“I don’t want anything,” I grit out.
I’m not a transaction. He thinks he can erase his wrongdoings with gifts. That the bruises and cuts on my flesh will magically disappear during the exchange. That the emotional torment and abuse I’ve endured will fade with the appearance of a shiny new bracelet.
“Money? A trip? Spa day with your sister?”
He’s reaching now if he’s trying to use Della to get into my good graces.
He stands up, wincing only slightly at the pain in his ribs. Slowly, he prowls toward me. My entire body thrums with the urge to flee. Bravely, or stupidly, I keep my feet rooted and stare up at him with a rare flash of defiance.
