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Fuck me, she looks beautiful.
“Kurt,” he spits darkly. Alana physically flinches at the mention of her father.
“I remember you as a kid. I remember coming to your house. You were a pretty little thing. All that long dark hair, a sweet smile and all-seeing eyes. I remember watching you, wondering how easy your life was being born as a female in our world.
“I was being trained to take over for my father from the moment they discovered I was a boy. I’m pretty sure my first real toy was a gun, and for my eighth birthday, he took me to target practice. At ten, I witnessed him kill someone. And at twelve, he decided that I was old enough to be the one to pull the trigger.”
Alana gasps at that revelation, but she doesn’t interrupt his little trip down memory lane. None of it shocks me, though, I’ve heard it all before.
The perfect life I thought the Harris brothers had with their seemingly loving father and stepmother was all a cover. The truth about their lives was very, very different.
“You wouldn’t have had to deal with all that. Yeah, your mom had left, but kids deal with that shit all the time.
“Your dad cared. I remember watching him watch you as you cleaned up empty beer bottles and returned with new cold ones for him and his friends.
“I remember thinking how lucky you were to escape all the darkness.”
She shakes her head, her eyes closing as if the image he’s painting for her is physically painful.
“You were so sweet, so happy, so friendly. Although never really toward me. From the first time I saw you and Mav together, it was obvious that you preferred him to me. The way you used to smile at him…” It’s his turn to shake his head, his jaw ticking as if he can’t believe he’s confessing all this.
I move closer still, too intrigued to discover where this little story is leading.
Did big bad Reid Harris have a crush on young, innocent Alana?
The idea of Reid ever having a crush is bizarre. The only interest I’ve seen him have in girls is to hold power over them and take what he needs. Total fucking alpha male bullshit that all the girls in this town seem to get off on.
“I guess you saw something different in him. Just another reason for me to hate him back then. I used to wonder what it was. The two of us were more alike than I ever wanted to admit back then. We’d had the same childhood, the same expectations put on our shoulders. Things could have been so different if we could stand being in the same room as each other for more than five minutes.”
My brows pinch as I wait to discover more to the lifetime rivalry the two of them have, but when he speaks again, he’s turned away from it.
“But I think I’ve figured it out now.”
Alana remains silent as we both wait impatiently for him to explain.
“Victor was first, wasn’t he?”
Alana gasps, her body visibly trembling beneath him.
“You saw me, and you saw him. I’m assuming that Razor joined the party at some point—those sick cunts like to do everything together after all—but it was too late by then. You’d formed some kind of friendship with his son. You didn’t look into his eyes and see a monster like you did when you looked at me.
“But your life was far from perfect, wasn’t it? Victor, Kurt, Razor, Jonno? How many others, Alana?” Her eyes fill with tears, her fingers twisting so hard in the sheets, her knuckles turn white.
“How many others what?” I ask, fear of where this is going dripping through my veins.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t suspect something. I’d be an idiot not to after everything I’ve discovered about my little dove.
She doesn’t react to things like most women. She gets turned on by the darkest of things that Reid and I have forced her to endure.
“No,” I blurt, refusing to accept what I already know.
The thought of the men who have brought us up, taught us everything we know, destroying something so pure, so innocent, so… perfect.
“No,” I repeat, tugging at my hair until I’m only moments away from ripping it clean from my scalp.
Alana looks at me, desperately pleading with me to make him stop, although I can’t be anything more than a blur with the number of tears swimming in her eyes.
But I can’t do anything. I’m frozen as the horrors of what her past really looks like, the pain she’s endured, grips me in a tight hold.
