Page 18 of Lock Me Inside


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“Open this door! This is bullshit!” I pound against the door with both fists and wish it was their faces instead.

The clicking of the lock is both a blessing and a curse. I back away quickly, prepared to fight, and the sight of Nix makes me bare my teeth in a snarl. “I knew it was you doing this. What is your problem? Why are you doing this to me? I never did anything to you!”

“Do yourself a favor, love bug,” he mutters before looking over his shoulder down the hall. “Don’t start shit around here.”

“I didn’t start anything! You are the ones who won’t leave me alone.”

“Damn right. You stay where we tell you to, for as long as we tell you to. And if I ever catch you out of your room at night?” An ugly smile twists his features, making him just as disgusting on the outside as he is on the inside. “Then you’ll pay. I’ll see to it.”

After last night, I can’t even take that as an empty threat. I know what he’s capable of.

“Why are you doing this?” I didn’t want it to come out sounding so pitiful, but it’s how I feel. Small and inconsequential and pitiful. “Why do you hate me? I’ve never done anything to you—and if I have, I wish you would tell me because I wasn’t aware of it. I never intended for any of this.”

“Why? You want to know why?” He takes one slow, menacing step toward me, then another. I have no choice but to back away until I bump up against my desk. Even then, he leans down, and I lean back until my head touches the wall. “Why does there have to be a reason? I hate you. I always have. I hate you and everything about you. I’ve hated you since the first time I set eyes on you. Back when you were strutting around like hot shit, like you were somebody special. You’re not so special now, are you?”

So that’s it? He hates me because I was popular once? All because of what I could do, not because of who I was. It’s not like I asked for any of it. “But things have changed now. And I didn’t do anything—”

“Just shut up. The sound of your voice makes me sick.” His eyes dart over my face, his nose wrinkling like he smells something nasty. “You are a disease. You’re a cancer buried deep, and there’s no cutting you out.”

I knew he hated me, but I didn’t know it was like this. So nasty and vile, deep-seated. All I can do is stare at him in mixed surprise and horror, still wondering what I did to earn it.

“So if I can’t get rid of you,” he continues, “then I’m going to make your life miserable. We both are, Colt and me. Just because he isn’t here to agree doesn’t mean he feels any differently about you than I do. You need to go. And if we need to make it so you have no choice but to leave, that’s what we’ll do.”

“And if I say anything to your father?”

His eyes narrow into slits. “Go ahead. Give it a try. See what happens. Because if you think last night was rough, you’re in for a big surprise.” He runs a hand down my side, and I squirm away, making him laugh. “Oh, Leni, it will get so much worse.”

The sickest part of all is the way he whistles lightheartedly as he leaves the room and closes the door. At least he’s smart enough not to lock it this time, but then I’m smart enough not to test him. No way am I going downstairs now, not when I can’t stop shaking and feel like I might burst into tears at any moment.

I’ve never felt anything like that before. That cold, blatant hatred. I didn’t know there were people in the world who didn’t bother hiding feelings like that—who comes out and calls somebody a cancer they can’t get rid of? It’s sick, disgusting. What happened to him to make him this way?

No. I have to shut that line of questioning down immediately. I’m not about to humanize him or bother myself with figuring out how his brain works. I think I’d rather not know.

I go to the bathroom and splash my face, hoping to calm myself down. I’m so alone here. No allies—James might be if I wasn’t afraid of the repercussions of confessing everything to him. I don’t even know whether he would believe me. All this friendly, fatherly stuff might only be an act intended to placate my mother. If that’s true, the joke’s on him. I doubt she would care much if he treated me like I was garbage. It could be one more thing for them to have in common.

It’s safer to keep this to myself. It would be childish of me to imagine swearing James to secrecy. No doubt he would go straight to his sons, and where would that leave me? In much worse shape than I’m in right now, that much is for sure.

It’s a long morning, but at least I have books to keep me occupied and distract me from my empty stomach. Unfortunately, that only works for so long—by the time the clock is closing in on noon, I’m almost weak with hunger. It’s enough to distract me, so I can’t even enjoy reading. Maybe I’ll get lucky, and they won’t be home.

Since when does my luck work that way? My heart sinks at the sound of their voices in the kitchen, along with their father’s. Anybody who didn’t know any better would think they were listening to a happy family, laughing and joking. I doubt anybody could imagine how bad things really are.

It’s either face them or starve. When I look at it that way, there’s no choice. I wander into the kitchen, careful to make it seem like there’s nothing wrong while I grab an apple from a bowl on the counter. The first bite is heaven, crisp and sweet. It’s a shame my gaze drifts over to my so-called family, and my eyes briefly meet Colt’s. Now there’s a sour taste in my mouth.

“Leni.” James smiles broadly when he turns to find me. “I was beginning to think you didn’t feel well. Is everything all right?”

I feel Nix’s eyes boring holes into me. I’m not going to give him away, but I might let him worry for a moment. That’s why I take my time before answering. “Sure, I’m fine. Just a little tired.” The smug look on both brothers’ faces makes me want to claw their eyes out. They think they’re so superior like they have me under their thumbs. Not that they don’t, but I hate how sure they are of it.

“And what are your plans today?”

It’s different, having someone in the house who seems to genuinely care what I do with my time. I almost don’t know how to handle it. “I’m not sure. I guess since the job interview at the pizza parlor didn’t work out, I’ll have to apply for some more jobs. I’m sure there must be something.”

Colt passes on his way to the refrigerator and brushes against me like it’s an accident—when I know it’s anything but. “I can think of at least one thing you could do to make some money.” He mutters it so low his father can’t hear. A very perverse part of me wants to turn around and ask him to repeat himself. Why would I even think something like that? It would only end up getting me hurt.

“You know, it seems silly to have you running around town, applying for jobs in these piddly little businesses.” James purses his lips thoughtfully. “Do you think you could handle some light clerical work?”

“I’ve never considered anything like that.”

“Maybe you should.” An indulgent smile begins to stir his lips. “It just so happens we could use someone to do extra filing and copying down at the firm, maybe answering phones. I have no doubt you could pick it up in no time.”

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