Chapter Eleven

I wake up feeling exactly like what happened: like I got the shit kicked out of me. My face throbs, the skin is tight, and all I want to do is curl up and cry myself back to sleep. I lie on my back in bed because rolling onto my side hurts worse. I don't know how I fell asleep on my side when Jaxon brought me in here earlier.

My stomach flips. Jaxon.

I groan deep in my belly as I sit up and blow strands of hair out of my face. Darkness bathes my room, and a quick glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand shows that it's eight p.m. I wonder if he told our parents what happened or if he opted to hide in his room.

I get out of bed and limp to the bathroom. Raising my crop top, I check my reflection and wince at all the bruises on my ribs and the top of my stomach. My face isn't any better. I have so many marks on my skin that show the world some fragile man got his feelings hurt.

"Ugh. Fucking asshole."

I drop my shirt and use the toilet. When I finish, I wash my hands and leave my bedroom. My steps falter as I glance at Jaxon's closed door. The fresh memory of him touching me pops into my head.

Wait, no. He didn't touch me. He assessed the wounds. That's it. Brothers don't cop a feel. They just don't, and that's totally not what he did.

My cheeks warm and the familiar flutter in my stomach builds.

Movement catches my eye. I look to the other side and tense. A tall figure stands at the end of the hallway, its frame thin and its legs longer than what's normal. I stumble back a step, then another, until I'm against Jaxon's door.

"Jax," I whisper, with a tremor in my voice. I knock my knuckles gently against his door, hoping he hears me. There's no answer, because of course not.

The tall figure puts one leg in front of the other, closing the distance between me and it. My legs tremble, and I'm frozen in place. Why am I frozen? Why the fuck am I not screaming and running into Jaxon's room?

It moves closer and reaches its slender fingers toward me. I scream and bolt into Jaxon's room, slamming the door shut and locking it. I ignore the pain in my body as I run and jump on Jaxon's bed and throw the covers over me to hide from that thing .

"What the fuck was that?" I sob and squeeze my eyes shut as tears trail down my cheeks. "Hold it together, Dahl. Fucking. Hold. It. Together."

I'm not holding it together. I'm freaking out and can't stop shaking. My once-empty bladder threatens to open the floodgates, and dear god, if I piss on my brother's bed, I won't ever wake up. I'll die, and even in death, I'll be ashamed for soaking his mattress out of terror.

As minutes pass, my trembling slows, then stops. Whatever that thing was, it hasn't pulled back the sheets yet, so I may live another day. I peek from under the fabric, checking to see if it followed me in here. I'm sure a locked door won't stop it from coming in. That thing didn't look human, so it could have some type of magical abilities to, I don't know, walk through walls or some shit.

After checking if the coast is clear, I let out a shaky, relieved sigh when I see nothing. I melt into the mattress as every stiff muscle relaxes until I'm practically a puddle of goo. Then I realize Jaxon isn't here.

He's probably out doing whatever it is he does. He and his friends always hang out and ride their motorcycles. I've gone with him a few times, watching as he pops wheelies and races with his friends.

I roll onto my side and wince at the sharp sting that dulls to a throb in my ribs. Jaxon's intoxicating scent fills my lungs, and I start to bury my face in his pillow before I'm cruelly reminded that my face hurts.

I roll out of his bed and head to the door, but I stop as the fear returns. What if that thing is waiting for me outside? The trembles come back, and I debate if it's a risk I'm willing to take.

I shake my head and go to his bathroom. The large room is pristine, giving the impression that it has never been used. I search for the first-aid kit Jaxon used earlier, hoping I can find something for the pain. My clothes are suddenly too tight, and the bands of my shorts and underwear are digging into me.

I find the kit under his sink and dig through, hoping to find something. I huff. "Nothing. Of course there's nothing."

I shift uncomfortably and adjust my bra, then my shorts. My face throbs without me touching it. I check my reflection and cringe at the swelling and redness. I growl under my breath from the bands digging into my skin. Whoever made these clothes sucks. It leaves little to no room when you're swelling like a ripening berry.

I drag my shirt off, followed by my bra, then my shorts and underwear. I stand naked in place for a moment. A groan slips out of my mouth, and I drop my head back, ignoring the sharp, uncomfortable charley-horse cramps in my neck. This feels so good. Freeing your breasts from a bra has to be the best feeling in the world.

No, having your older brother play with your tits is the best feeling in the world, and you know that.

I stiffen and curl my lips back with a cringe. Jaxon didn't feel me up. He was checking for more cuts and possibly broken ribs. That's it.

I leave the bathroom and rifle through Jaxon's clothes. Wearing anything of his is always the best. He may be leaner than me, but he's still bigger and his clothes are baggy. It's the closest thing to wearing a boyfriend's "borrowed" shirt. I pull out a T-shirt and sweats and put them on. Instantly, I feel ten times better and even a little safer, like nothing can harm me.

My stomach growls, reminding me I haven't eaten since early this morning. All I had was a bagel and cream cheese before I went into town to shop for Halloween with Jaxon. That obviously went well.

Thanks for nothing, Mickey.

The scary-looking creature is gone when I check outside the bedroom. After waiting for a moment, I head downstairs and go straight to the kitchen. All the lights are off and the home is quiet, so it's safe to say that Mom and Dad are already in bed. They're morning people, which means they retire for the night by seven p.m.

I pull out the plastic container of Mexican leftovers. Mom isn't the best cook, but she can make a mean enchilada dish.I wait for the food to heat up in the microwave and lean against the counter, eyeing the time as it counts down.

Arms wind around me, tattooed hands resting on my stomach, one above the other. I suck in a breath at the sudden touch and whip my head to the side to look over my shoulder. I wince at the sting and drop my head forward with a small whimper.

Jaxon pulls me into him until his chest is flush against my back. "You're hurting," he murmurs.

I nod and bite on my bottom lip to stop from making any more noises. The last thing I need is our parents hearing me cry, then seeing all the cuts and bruises and dismissing it with a, "Get over it."

"I can help you with that," Jaxon says quietly.

My cheeks warm, and my mouth opens without me having a moment to think before I speak. "What, like playing with my breasts to make me feel better?"

I mentally facepalm and curse myself for being so awkward.

Jaxon tenses. His fingers twitch as though he's fighting himself back from taking my invitation. "Is that what you want, sis?"

The microwave beeps, announcing my food is ready. I ignore it, all of my attention on Jaxon.

My cheeks flame with a blush and my breathing picks up. "I was just being sarcastic. That would be wrong."

"Would it?" He shifts closer, pushing me against the edge of the counter until it digs into my stomach. His breath fans against my neck, and he dips his hand lower to rest right above my pelvis.

I can't concentrate. My mind goes fuzzy, and that dipping feeling in my stomach returns full force. I want Jaxon's hands on me, but not innocently. My pussy aches to be filled by him—fingers, tongue, or cock.

This is wrong , I chide myself. He's my brother. This isn't something to give in to. He's just teasing me.

"Answer me," Jaxon says. He fingers the waistband of the borrowed sweats, and I swear I can feel his pleased reaction now that he knows I'm wearing his pants.

"Yes, it would." My nipples harden into sensitive peaks, and I bite the inside of my cheek to distract myself from how he's making me feel.

He makes a noise in the back of his throat. I can't tell if he's agreeing or disagreeing. Jaxon's silence eats at me.

"What are you thinking about?" I say, and peek at him. Shadows dance over his face, and it's hard to make everything out, but I still catch his eyes darkening and his lips curling back in an evil smile.

"Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to."

He loosens his hold on me and turns me to face him. Jaxon's nostrils flare as he takes in all the bruises on my face.

My eyes widen at all the cuts and bruises marring his complexion. "What happened?"

He picks me up, forcing me to wrap my legs around his waist before he sets me on the counter. I can't bring myself to unwind from him, desperate to keep feeling him nestled between my thighs. It's a guilty pleasure, and I can pretend it doesn't affect me at all, even though warmth pools low in my belly.

Jaxon brushes his knuckles down my cheek where I'm not bruised, his touch gentle and featherlight, like a breeze grazing my skin. "You know I'll do anything for you, right?"

"Jaxon..." I reach for his face, then stop. My fingers curl into my palm. "What happened?"

He cups my love handles and leans forward, putting our faces an inch apart. A dangerous gleam passes through his gaze. "Don't worry your pretty little head about me."

"That's not?—"

He moves in closer until his lips brush mine, but it can't be a kiss because of how soft it is. He cups the back of my head, his fingers threading through my hair at the scalp.

"I said, don't worry about it," he whispers, and tilts his head, still brushing his mouth against mine and bringing a strange flutter to my stomach. "If you want, you can kiss it to make it feel better."

My heart beats faster the longer he lingers.

"Kiss it?" I breathe. "Or kiss you?"

Jaxon's lips curl into a rueful smile, as if he finally got what he's been wanting, and his fingers slip inside the waistband of my sweats and ease them down my hips. My breath catches in my throat.

"Beg me for it," he murmurs.

I bury my trembling hands in his hair and pull at the strands, making him groan. "Please, Jaxon."

He growls and closes the small space between our mouths, crushing his lips against mine.

The light in the kitchen flips on. Jaxon eases my sweats back up and moves closer to block me from view as he glares over his shoulder at whoever just walked in.

"What are you two doing?" I tense at Dad's deep voice, which borders on a growl.

Jaxon's jaw muscle tics. "Fucking. What does it look like?" he deadpans.

My jaw drops, and I watch in horror as Dad storms into the kitchen and stops beside Jaxon. His face falls when he sees it's me, and then he suspiciously looks between us. When he doesn't see the missing clothes or Jaxon's dick inside me, he shoots my brother a glare.

"What's wrong with her face?" Dad asks, though he asks Jaxon and not me, like I'm not even here. Why isn't he concerned about what Jaxon said? We aren't fucking, but he literally just walked in the moment we kissed .

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" Jaxon says, speaking my thoughts out loud.

Dad looks from me to Jaxon and gets a better look at his injuries. "Did you two get into a fight?"

"No," I say.

"Yes."

I glare at Jaxon but feel silly when I realize Dad meant get in a fight with someone else and not with each other.

Airhead. Rocks. Stupid.

Dad huffs. "Which is it?"

Jaxon settles his hands on my hips, and a scatter of goosebumps rises on my arms and legs. "Someone laid their hands on Dahlia, so I laid mine on him and his friend."

Dad doesn't look in the least bit surprised, just annoyed. I, however, am shocked and now have a thousand questions for Jaxon.

Dad's frown deepens when he notices Jaxon's hands gripping my sides. His eyebrow twitches and he cocks his head, the wheels spinning in his mind. I can only imagine what's going through his head because I'm thinking the same things.

Is this a territorial display?

Is this him letting our dad know how he feels about me without saying it?

Is he trying to be obvious about what we were doing before Dad barged in here?

"Get cleaned up and go to bed." Dad cuts his eyes to Jaxon. " Separately ."

Jaxon keeps a blank expression, but fire burns in his gaze. Our father ignores the challenge and grabs a bottle of water from the fridge, then gives us a warning look and heads back to his bedroom.

Jaxon turns to me, and I wiggle out of his grasp, ungracefully landing on my feet.

"Where are you going?" he says .

I dodge his hand as it swipes out to grab me. "Bed. I'm exhausted."

Jaxon doesn't chase after me. He drops his arms to his sides and looks at me from head to toe, the corner of his lip quirking.

Backing up another step, I put more space between us, then the island table that he'll have to go around if he chases me. I shiver at the thought of him chasing me. I can only imagine what it would be like to run through the woods late at night with the threat of my brother pinning me to the ground.

Jaxon smirks like he knows what's going through my head. "You better go to your room, sis. Wouldn't want your big brother to corrupt you."

"What if I'm already corrupt?" The words are out of my mouth before I realize what I've said.

His smile widens dangerously. "Liar."

A blush works its way to my cheeks, and I rush out of the kitchen and hide in my bedroom. I slip under the sheets and lie on my back, since that's the only comfortable position I can be in until I heal.

Jaxon doesn't think I'm corrupt?

He doesn't know the things that run through my head and the fantasies I have about him. He may tease me with his innocent flirting, maybe even kiss me out of amusement, but my reactions to him are genuine. I want my brother, but I can't have him, so the next best thing to get over these feelings is to put myself out there in the dating pool.

I fish under my pillows until I find my phone, then pull up the app store to download as many dating apps as possible.The only hitch is that Jaxon can't know about this. He'll lose his shit and murder any guy I talk to.

I just have to make sure he never finds out.