BAD WICKED TWISTED: A Briarcrest Academy Box Set (35 page)

“Please, just this last time, Buttercup,” he said.

And with that one word, I was his.

He lowered his head, his gaze holding me captive. When our lips touched, his heated eyes stayed open and mine did, too. My mouth melted into his, moaning as his hot tongue explored the details of my tongue, my teeth, my lips. We started slow but it escalated rapidly, the passion between us burning higher and higher. He closed his eyes, shifting his body to press more firmly into me, gripping my hair as if he were afraid I’d try to get away. He owned me with his mouth, making me all his, and I was lost.

I tightened my arms around his waist, grinding myself against him. He hissed at the increased pressure and pushed me back against the sturdy bookshelf, picking me up and positioning me so his hips fit into my pelvis. He held me in place, rocking into me. Gasping at the feel of him, I lifted one of my legs, and he caught it and wrapped it around him. I clutched his ass and pulled him against me, my passion for him expanding, growing bigger and bigger as the room got hotter.

“Say my name,” he muttered gruffly as I sucked hard at his neck and then licked it. He grunted, and I dug my nails into his back as I kissed my way around his collarbone, sucking another spot.

“Say it, Nora. S
ay
it
,” he ordered me hoarsely, and more heat rushed to my center at his demand.

“Leo, Leo, Leo,” I pleaded, arching my back, pushing into him.

He shuddered. “Love that,” he whispered and then placed his lips back on mine, dominating my mouth, like a man starved. All I could think about was him, him, him . . . his lips, his tongue, his taste, his butterscotch smell. I wanted all of him, and I’d never have him, and that thought made me frantic. I gripped him tighter, pushed my nails deeper, and kissed him harder. I never wanted his mouth to leave mine, not even for those little sweet kisses. I never wanted my tongue separated from his. I never wanted this moment to end.

“Want you so much. I’ve dreamed about making love to you a thousand times,” he whispered out, and the anguish I heard in his voice terrified me.

Leo!
I loved him. Would it make a difference if I told him so? Would he suddenly give us a chance? I didn’t know the answers, but I knew this was everything; this was gut-wrenching love.

“Make me come, Leo,” I said desperately. He groaned and slipped his hand under my dress and shoved my panties to the side. Pushing his finger deep inside me, he kissed my neck feverishly as I trembled and tried to move underneath him, needing more. He pumped me fast, moving his fingers around, grinding me with little circles.

“You’re wet,” he groaned into my ear, biting down on it.

His lips came back to my mouth, his tongue dueling with mine. “Come for me, baby.”

Heat gathered in my spine, in my legs, and in my core, and I panted out his name as I came, my body clenching his fingers, the waves hitting me and hitting me, sending me over into a place I’d never been.

“Leo,” I said weakly, gazing into his eyes.

He looked wrecked.

He tightened his arms around me and opened his mouth to say something, but the sound of approaching footsteps startled us. He reluctantly pulled away from me, and I slid down. We straightened our clothes, neither of us breaking eye contact.

An older couple walked by, glancing at us and smiling as they passed our aisle.

He rubbed his jaw. We stared at each other, and I
saw
the bleakness in his expression. I shook my head, feeling the finality of it in my bones. I wanted to howl; I wanted to scream.
No, no, no
. I could never say goodbye to him forever. Not yet and not here in this dusty room of old books.

Why didn’t he love me, too?

Why did they call it heartbreak, when it felt like my entire body was dying?

“Please, don’t be sad,” he said in a broken voice, looking as sick as I felt. But that couldn’t be.

This is hell
,
I thought,
living my life without my soulmate
.

I closed my eyes to block out his face, the pain tearing into me so brutally I knew I’d never completely be over him. I’d given him my heart, and he’d given right back. I reached out and ran my fingers around his swollen lips. He kissed them lovingly.

“Maybe in the next life,” I whispered to him and walked back upstairs to Drew.

“As soon as forever is gone,

I’ll be over you.”

–
Nora Blakely

WHEN I WOKE up the next day, I didn’t realize it would be one of the worst days of my life. As I drove to school, it seemed like a normal October morning, except it was a tad chilly for Texas. The weatherman had predicted a low of forty degrees tonight, plus a big meteor shower was supposed to streak through the sky around midnight. Strange things were brewing.

Drew and I made plans to hang out on the roof of the shop to watch, and after much thought, I’d also decided tonight was the night for us, the night I’d give myself to him.

After school, I’d gone to work at the gym and it was the usual: clients signing in, answering membership questions, handing out towels, and typing in the computer.

Practice was the same; Leo staring and me trying to ignore.

Everything changed the moment I walked across the darkened street to the shop, anxious to get inside and freshen up before Drew arrived.

I was headed straight to the front door, keys in hand, when I glanced over and saw a figure leaning against my car which was parked in the alley next to the shop. The street light was on the other side of the street, so I couldn’t see him clearly, but I knew who it was. I smiled, put my keys in my pocket, and walked toward him.

“Hey, you,” I said, tucking my hair behind my ears, knowing I looked a sweaty mess from practice, but was flattered he couldn’t wait to see me. “You’re not supposed to be here for another hour,” I chided.

“I’d wait forever for you, sis,” I heard him say as he stepped out of the shadows and into the dim moonlight. He grinned. “You were expecting someone else?”

My sheet music and purse slid to the ground as I stood there, rooted in fear. I peered wildly around the street, but it was deserted. No one was here to save me. My lungs burned for air, and I gasped out, forcing myself to take a breath. The voice inside my head screamed and screamed, urging me to run and hide, but I was immobile, not able to make my body obey the simple command. Dark spots danced before my eyes.
No!

He staggered toward me until only a few feet separated us. “Ah, don’t look like that. I’m not going to hurt you. It’s just . . . I told you to call me, and you didn’t. What else did you think I would do?”

He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket and lit one, his long fingers cupping the light so it didn’t blow out in the wind. And still I couldn’t make my legs work.

“See, you forced me to come here. You did this,” he snapped, his voice escalating at the end.

I blinked, the familiar tone of his voice grating over my skin, making me shake, making me want to vomit. My muscles drew up, preparing for his attack, for the cold, rough hands he’d use on my body. Blood rushed to my head, and my heart pounded erratically. I bent over and grabbed my stomach, fighting the panic attack I felt coming.

“Is that anyway to greet a brother?” he whined, whipping off his leather jacket and tossing it to the ground at his feet. He kicked it out of his path. I quaked inside at the action, my body begging for air, concentrating on breathing evenly. God help me, I needed control. I had to be able to fight back.

“Did you really think you could move out of our house? Get away from her? You can’t,” he said, laughing a weird sound, like his insides were all twisted up. “I moved to Houston, and I can’t. We’re both screwed up, Nora. We need each other.”

He unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up the sleeves of his designer shirt methodically, a resigned expression on his face. On his forearm, I saw the jagged lines of his scar and remembered that horrible last time when he’d picked the lock to my bedroom. How he’d slipped inside, humming a little song under his breath, like he was fine, like he was
normal
, like it was an everyday thing to want to hurt your sister.

“I told you and told you to call me, but you didn’t. I sent you the pictures to show you that I don’t care anymore who knows. And you didn’t answer me, Nora. Not one time. How much trouble is it to call me?” He fiddled around in his trouser pockets and pulled out a length of rope. “Can’t have you trying to cut me now, can I?” he smirked, slapping the rope against his leg.

I stared at him numbly and fell to my knees, my legs useless like wet noodles.

“This is her fault. She never loved us, but I’m going to make us all better. Fix it so that she can’t mess with us anymore, make us into animals.”

“I’m not an animal,” I managed to choke out. “I got away. I’m not bad. I’m good, and I’ll be happy some day.”

He roared with jarring laughter, tossing his head back to the dark sky. “Never knew you were such a jokester, sis,” he said darkly, looking down at me, his brown eyes filled with emptiness.

I bowed my head and started praying.

“I’m going to take you far away from all this,” he said, waving the rope in the air. “Where we can be a perfect family, just me and you.”

“Where?” I wheezed out, recognizing the desolation on his face for what it was. Hadn’t I been close to that point once? Hadn’t I dreamed of ending it all?

He bent over, got in my face, and wagged his finger. “Ah, such a curious little girl.”

I flinched at the stench of stale alcohol on his breath. I licked my lips, bracing myself. “Why . . . why don’t you come closer so I can give you a hug, brother,” I panted, my right hand reaching behind my back, feeling for the dropped purse. “I . . . I missed you, too,” I said, my usually nimble fingers thick with fear as I eased the strap closer and closer.

He kneeled down in front of me, a surprised but satisfied smile on his gaunt face. He kissed my forehead tenderly. “I knew you’d see it my way. We’re the only ones who can fix this,” he said, his hands caressing my cheeks and then squeezing so hard that the strands of the rope ground into my temple.

I felt a tear ease down my face . . . and I think I cried not only for myself, but maybe for him, too. He was sick. He was my brother, and at one point I’d loved him. He’s the person who’d told me my first knock-knock joke and taught me how to swim. I closed my eyes, my head running through a distant memory, one of Finn and me riding our bikes together through Turtle Creek one Saturday afternoon. I’d gotten a flat that day, and he’d given me his to ride while he trudged through hills and rocky trails to get my bike home. But that brother was long gone, and I didn’t recognize the creature that had taken his place.

Dimly, I heard a voice far away yelling my name and then a rhythmic thumping sound. Someone was coming, but it was too late. This moment had been written in stone from the time I’d seen him at the open house.

There was no turning back now.

Finn’s neck twitched to see who was coming. I reached in my bag and then whipped my arm back around to the front, pushing the knife in, watching the blood as it trickled down his throat. I remembered all the times I had bled for him. He tensed and wanted to move, but I had him by the collar, my hands tight, unwilling to release him.

“You won’t hurt me again,” I breathed out, oddly calm now. “Just a millimeter more, Finn, and you’ll die right here.”

“Nora, put it down,” a soft voice said, pulling me back to the world. I blinked over at a pale Leo who stood beside me, gazing at the knife I had pressed to Finn’s jugular.

I shook my head. “No, I made up my mind.”

Leo came closer, holding his hands up. “Look, I’m calling the police. Let them take care of him, Nora. Please.”

He reached in his jeans and pulled out his phone and dialed, and I heard him murmuring as he talked to someone, but all I could hear were Finn’s whimpers.

I turned back to Finn, watching as his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. He swallowed. “Sis, we had something special—”