Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Why can’t I just be normal?
My gut churns with disgust. I hate that my brain seems to be wired completely wrong. In all the books I’ve read, not one of them talks about being in love with your brother and having a sexual relationship with him.
Not. One.
And the magazines Wild slips us?
Men and women together, but it damn sure doesn’t speak of them being siblings.
No, all the fantasies and sick, twisted dreams I have are all of my own making. I’m no genius, but I can almost guarantee if my parents knew my desires, this would have the power to destroy my family. They already run a tight ship, making sure to keep our alone times with Raegan at a minimum. The knowledge of what I want to do with their son could be enough to not only fracture our family, but to have them hating me.
I would die if my family hated me or sent me away because of my sick fantasies.
Fantasies I acted on. Fantasies I encouraged to become real by pushing Ryder. Sure, maybe it wasn’t exactly intentional, but my actions led us to this moment. I kissed Logan and let him touch me, and then left Ryder to deal with the aftermath.
I did this.
If my parents send me away, I’ll have no one to blame but myself.
The thought of living far removed from those I love with my entire being makes my stomach tighten with unease. Bile creeps up my throat and my head spins.
I wouldn’t make it a week without them.
Not that I don’t have what it takes to survive, because I absolutely do thanks to Dad’s constant teachings. No, I’d die from loneliness.
My heart would crack right down the center, split apart, and I’d bleed out until I was nothing.
All the thoughts inside my head are chaotic and loud despite the near silent trudging of our boots through the underbrush. Occasionally, Rowdy, who’s ahead of us, will hold up a fist, meaning for us to stop. He cocks his head, seemingly listening past the chirping birds and whispering wind as if to uncover the true location of Kristen’s assailants, only to lower his hand back down and continue his trek.
Before I’m once again caught up in my mental trap where I’m bouncing back and forth between berating myself or imagining a horrible life alone, I hear it.
Voices.
Hushed but frequent.
Then we hear a laugh.
Rowdy unslings the rifle off his shoulder and holds it at the ready. Ryder and I both carry knives that we’ve unsheathed as we prowl toward the sounds of men.
“…fourteen or not, I still want to tap that.”
I immediately recognize Jace’s voice. CJ smothers a laugh, but it’s still loud enough to scare away a bird. Rowdy points to a clearing up ahead. The two guys are sitting on a log, a plume of smoke between them. I recognize the smell as marijuana. Wild’s smuggled a joint out here a time or two and convinced us to smoke with him.
“Who says she’d even be into you?” CJ asks, passing him the blunt.
I’m wondering why we haven’t alerted ourselves to the men yet. Rowdy has rocked to a halt, slightly lowered as he listens.
“Lack of options, man,” Jace says with a snigger. “Have you seen her choices?”
“She certainly can’t,” CJ tosses back. “I guess it would be good for your ass to be fucking a blind chick.”
Destiny?
They’re talking about our fourteen-year-old sister?
Where Ryder and I tense with realization, Rowdy is already tearing toward the duo. I’m frozen in place, wondering if he’s going to blow both their heads off.
Crack!
I suck in a sharp breath as I watch CJ collapse onto the forest floor after having been smacked in the head by the butt of Rowdy’s rifle. Jace, shocked by the surprise attack, scrambles away and stumbles over his own feet. Ryder and I rush forward—to do what, I’m not sure.
Rowdy snags Jace by his flannel shirt and shoves him up against a tree. His rifle falls to the ground and he produces a wicked-sharp knife he got while visiting Uncle Atticus during the time that changed Rowdy—a knife that could end this pervert with one well-delivered jab.
“You even look at my little sister and I will carve your eyeballs out,” Rowdy snarls. “If you touch her, I’ll carve them out and make your dipshit cousin eat them.”
“Dude,” Jace grinds out. “We were just fucking around and being stupid. No one really wants to fuck her.”
Rowdy digs the blade into Jace’s flesh just below his jawline, piercing the skin and producing a dark red rivulet of blood that races down his flesh. “Stop talking or I’ll cut your fucking tongue out too.”
He’s going to kill him.
CJ groans from the ground. Rowdy tenses but leaves his back to him, choosing to focus on the threat in front of him. Because we’re family and have his back, me and Ryder step near CJ, making sure he doesn’t rush our brother or some shit.