5

5

STACEY

Something is licking my face.

Two somethings.

I crack my eyes open to see Milo and Hopper on each side of me. I pat their heads while looking over at the door I’m certain I shut. “How did you two get in here?”

They stare at me, then Milo tilts his head, and I lie back down as they roll onto their backs to get tummy rubs. Hopper nudges my face with his wet nose, and I wrap my arms around him with a huge grin.

“Did you both miss me?”

Both heads tilt this time, and I laugh and scratch their ears.

Kade must’ve kept them away from the party last night. He’s always extremely protective of them. I’m surprised he hasn’t booted the door down and demanded they leave me alone.

The sun beams in my face as I peel the duvet off me, screwing my eyes shut as I search for my phone. When I find it, it’s dead, and with how much I drank last night after going back to the party, I think I’m dead too.

No sexual games were played thankfully.

I slip my shoes on and leave the spare room, Milo and Hopper sprinting away down the lobby. I walk three doors down and knock lightly. “Ty?”

The latch on the door unlocks, and my friend sneaks out, leaving Dez asleep in bed. Her hair is a mess, and there’s a bite mark on her throat. She blows out a breath as she looks at me. “I’ll call an Uber. I’m too hungover to drive.”

We step over a sleeping Base at the entranceway and slip out the front door.

The manor is strangely silent. “You wouldn’t think it was noon. Luciella must’ve given the staff more than one day off.”

“Three days, I think. She hates having them around.”

The outside air hits us, and we both shiver.

“I’m going to come stay at your place for a few days,” I tell Tylar, shivering even more at the thought of going home to Chris. “When do you leave for Rome?”

“Sunday,” she says as we sit on the steps, waiting for our ride. “I know you want to ask. So ask.”

I shrug. “What you and Dez do is none of my business.”

“It was that stupid game,” she says, sighing. “I thought I was going to sleep with him, then Kade made them all leave.”

When I’d gone back into the manor last night, Kade had grabbed Base by the collar before he could take a line of coke from the coffee table and dragged him out of the room. Then when Dez decided to come up for air after devouring Tylar’s mouth, Kade had said that the party was over.

I had a few more shots, and then me and Tylar went to one of the spare rooms. She snuck out once she thought I was asleep, and I heard her giggling outside the door.

The gate opens, and I watch as a black motorbike drives in and stops next to us. The rider stands tall, tugs off his gloves and then the helmet to reveal dark messy hair and sleepy blue eyes.

Kade drops the helmet on the ground; he looks like he hasn’t slept in days. He rolls his shoulders as he gets off the bike, and as he lifts his gaze to me, I notice a bruise under his cheek. I gulp and look away.

“I think Base might be dead,” Tylar says, yawning. “He’s lying in the lobby in just a pair of boxers.”

Kade nods, and I want to look at him again so badly, but I don’t.

He walks up the stairs on my right, and my skin prickles at his nearness before he vanishes into the manor. My shoulders jump as he slams the door.

“So moody,” Tylar says. “I wonder where he went? Dez said he ran out the manor at seven this morning.”

I don’t reply as I stare at my shoes, kicking imaginary stones.

When the Uber arrives, we run down to the gates and jump in. Tylar lives an hour from here, and her place is smaller, filled with loads of art, statues and plants. Her cats press up against my legs as I try to walk to her room, nearly tripping me on the stairs.

Instead of showering and getting dressed, or doing anything productive, Tylar and I put on fresh pyjamas and climb into bed. We stay there for the rest of the day, and when I finally charge my phone, Luciella video-calls us for an hour to make plans for our upcoming trip to America. She’s flying out to meet up with her mother and Ewan, and see her dad, and has invited me along for a holiday.

I fall back to sleep after we eat pizza.

We do this for three days, and over those three days, I ignore every single message from Chris. They only grow angrier, more threatening, and even after I block him, he uses a new number to ask me to come home.

Or begs me more like.

Tylar finally drives me home after we collect her car from Lu’s, reminds me that I’m covering her class tonight then air-kisses me as I leave the vehicle. I rush to my bedroom, sighing in relief when I reach it and close the door, putting the chair beneath the handle to stop Chris from getting in.

I shower and lean against the tiles, remembering how close Kade was to me by the gate. His arm was around me, and then his hand was on my throat. I slide my hand up to my neck and bite my lip, closing my eyes and imagining it’s him.

The moment breaks when someone bangs on my bedroom door, loud enough that I can hear it in my bathroom.

Chris stares at me like an angry owl from across the dining table while Nora discusses with Kyle the importance of being more involved with the family instead of partying all the time.

I can barely swallow my food without feeling his vomit-inducing gaze on me. It’s murderous – like, serial killer murderous. If there wasn’t anyone else around, I fear what he’d do.

If Chris grips his fork any tighter, it’ll snap.

Psycho.

“When are you going to America?”

Nora’s question is enough to pull his concentration to his mother. He had no idea I was going away. Great, more punishment.

When I tell her that I’m leaving tomorrow, she asks, “And will adults be going?”

“Can we not do this? I’m twenty-one.”

“Regardless of your age, the last time you went over there, you came back with multiple bruises and a broken arm. How are you going to prevent that from happening again?”

I shrug. Your son has a screw loose. “Maybe not drink and fall in front of oncoming traffic?” That was the lie he’d made me come up with.

“There’s no need for that tone, dear. I’m just worried about you. Whenever you go away with your friends, you come back injured.”

“Why are you going there?” Chris asks, and I know he’s going to strangle me against my door when we’re alone, to try to squeeze every little last detail from me.

I can’t say, Oh to see Tobias fucking Mitchell with his children, can I? First off, they’d freak because he’s famous around here. And then they’d lock me in my room, so I’d never see that family again.

When I don’t respond, he kicks the table. “Who are you going with?”

“Friends.”

“Who?”

“Fucking hell.” Kyle tosses down his fork, Nora scowling at him for his bad language. “Does it matter? Let her breathe, man. You’re unbearable at times. And so are you,” he says to his mother. “She’s old enough to do what she wants.”

“Fine. But you will call me every day,” Nora says, before continuing to eat her dinner.

I mouth a thank you to Kyle and finish eating, ignoring Chris’s death stare while I gulp down my glass of wine.

Kyle isn’t aware of just how insufferable his brother is. He thinks Chris is possessive over me because he’d always wanted a little sister growing up, but if he really knew what he was like, I’m not sure who would murder who.

There have been so many occasions where I considered telling him. So many times, while he rushed me to Accident and Emergency, I debated telling him the truth, because I think he’d believe me. But then again, my dad didn’t, so it isn’t worth the risk.

Plus, I don’t want Kyle getting hurt.

If I told Lu or Tylar, they’d demand I leave – pack my bags and run away. But not only do they not know Chris exists, they also wouldn’t understand just how psychotic he is, the lengths he’d go to in order to control me. I think I’m the only one who knows what he’s truly capable of.

He makes Tobias Mitchell look like a saint.

It’s like being in an abusive relationship without the sex and emotional connection. I’m not not leaving because I’m his partner and I love him and part of me hopes he’ll change. I’m not deluded into thinking he has any capacity to be sane. No, not even close. I’m still here because I’m far too scared to run away and I’m broke.

And even if I did manage to escape, he’d hunt every inch of this earth to find me.

I want a voice, but I have no idea how to use it or how I’d stop his wrath if I did.

We continue eating, but Chris just stares at his plate. There’s nothing in his eyes, nothing in his tone. Nothing but pure rage. And all his anger is towards me. Like he’s calculating how hard to throw the knife to make sure it goes right through my skull.

I clear my throat, turning to Nora. “May I be excused?”

The corners of her eyes crinkle as she smiles at me. “Of course. Take the rest of the wine with you.”

“Thank you.” I turn to Kyle and Chris and say with a nod, “Goodnight.”

Chris scowls at me as I grab the bottle and leave the table.

The walk to my room is nerve-wracking – my feet can’t possibly go any faster. I get to my door before I’m thrown against the wall.

I was so goddamn close.

“The fuck was that all about?”

Before, when he started being more aggressive with me, I’d cry and plead with him to leave me alone, but now I simply roll my eyes and look anywhere but at him. “What did I do this time?”

“You know what I’m talking about. Saturday night. And you’ve been ignoring me since.”

When I raise a shoulder, he snatches the wine bottle from my hand and takes my jaw in a painful grip. “Who was he?”

Chris was so gone from reality that he hadn’t noticed who was holding me; he hadn’t noticed it was Kade Mitchell with his arms around my waist. He definitely knows who he is – the entire town does – but I guess he can’t remember his face because he was on so many narcotics.

The grip on my jaw tightens, and Chris crushes my body with his.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you? Did you forget what happened the last time?”

Even as my heart shatters, I grit my teeth despite how close they feel to cracking.

Chris yanks me from the wall and shoves me into my bedroom, slamming the door behind us. He still has the wine bottle to hand, and I already know what he’s going to do.

“Lie down.”

I fold my arms. “Absolutely not.”

“Tell me who he was,” he continues, walking me around the room as I try to get away from him. “Who the fuck had his hands on you?”

“I’m your sister.”

He snatches my jaw again, angles my head right back, and before I can yell at him to fuck off, or even take a breath, he pries my lips apart and pours the wine into my mouth.

“Stepsister. So I can do whatever the fuck I want to you. You’re mine, remember? Now, since you like to drink so much, fucking drink.”

I choke, slapping at his chest, face and arms, but he doesn’t budge as the alcohol glugs down my throat. I cough as it flows into my eyes, up my nose, down my top and soaks my clothes, and I try to close my mouth, to clench my teeth or cough the liquid away, so I can fill my lungs with air, but his hold on me only tightens. Pain erupts all over my face from his grip, and tears mix with the red wine on my cheeks.

My chest is burning, sick rising up my throat with the wine he’s drowning me with.

The tears falling down his cheeks make him look like he’s hurting, but he’s the one abusing me. He always cries.

He stops and steps back, wiping his face with his sleeve. I drag in breaths and try to blink away the burning in my eyes, nearly vomiting my dinner back up as I drop to my knees and gag.

“Are you going to answer me now?”

Barely able to fill my lungs with air, it takes me a full minute to make sure I don’t pass out. The room is blurry and spinning, and so much pressure is building behind my eyes and my head.

“Fucking answer me!”

When I ignore him again, his foot drops down on the back of my head, my mouth colliding with the ground, and I instantly regret coming home.