CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER ONE

RAYLEE

ISIT IN the driver’s seat of my car, parked outside of the house that I call a prison—three stories, white stucco, black shutters, wraparound porch, and multiple balconies with iron railings. Surrounded by the beautiful Pennsylvania woods, it looks like something you’d see on a TV show for the rich and famous. Makes me want to gag.

Cars litter the circle driveway because dipshit is throwing a party tonight. He didn’t even ask if I cared, but I’m not surprised. It’s his house. I just get to live here.

The lights from the dash illuminate the inside while “Joke’s On You” by Charlotte Lawrence blares, the bass making my car rattle while I contemplate what most call love.

Do you ever get tired of being a woman? Don’t you just want to know once what it feels like to be a man? To have a dick that can fuck whatever it wants and be slapped on the back for it, like you actually accomplished something?

Why can’t women go crazy in their twenties and then want to settle down in their thirties and not be judged for it? If you’re a virgin, you’re too inexperienced, and they don’t want to take the time to “teach” you. Yet if you’ve had multiple partners, then you’ve been used too much and aren’t good enough for them.

These days, girls are being taught to raise the ceiling and break the glass. Be independent—you don’t need a man. But I don’t care how successful you are. People still need sex. Some kind of human interaction.

As a woman, I understand it. The need to use men but also believe in love. But society tells us to question that. With how high divorce rates are, you have to think—is there one person out there for you? Maybe that person is the one for you today, but what about in two years? Who says that the man you marry and have three children with won’t fuck your best friend in your bed with your wedding pictures hanging on the wall while he tells her he won’t leave you because of the kids? Then what?

I fucking kill him, that’s what. Then I spend the rest of my life in prison while my mother raises my children, and they end up getting bullied because their mother is a murdering psycho who was once a whore back in her twenties.

Women will say things like; it’s just a man. You deserve better. Go out and find another one. But why should I have to go and start over with someone else because he can’t keep his dick in his pants? Why do I have to accept his betrayal? I wasn’t raised to accept defeat. No. My mother raised me to fight fire with fire. Even if that means having to burn myself along with him.

I look out the windshield at the car parked in front of me. It’s unique, rare. He ordered it after he graduated from college and went to work for his daddy. It’s a black Lamborghini Sian and cost him a whopping 3.6 million dollars. I think it’s ugly.

He’s why I question everything. Men, love, sex. I’m where I’m at in my life because of him. The fucker has crossed the line. For years now, we’ve been going at it. I hate him. He hates me. It’s what makes the world go round. I’m sure of it.

But the sex… Goddamn, it’s off-the-charts amazing. That’s what makes me so mad at myself and pissed off at the world. But just when one of us thinks we should stop, the other pulls us back in for another round. We both know it. Otherwise, I’m pretty sure we’d kill one another.

My mother married his father when we were in high school. Typical fairy-tale romance. She was a server who was overworked and underpaid. He was a billionaire who just so happened to walk in and sit in her section early one morning. Four months later, they were married. My stepdad is a nice guy. But my stepbrother? Let’s just say he’s a fucking nightmare. He was a year older than me, and I thought I would be free of him after he graduated high school. But nope. Once his father got me into Barrington University—an elite college for rich kids—he offered me a room in his house that he shares with his three best friends—like I was a stray dog that had nowhere to go. I had laughed, thinking it was some sick joke. My mother thought it was the best idea Colt ever had. She praises him and thinks he’s the best thing to happen to us, other than his father, of course. I’ll give it to him, he’s good at being a stepson, but he lives to make my life miserable.

Looking at the clock on the dash, I see it’s a quarter till midnight.

Now is as good a time as any. He’s probably balls deep in some woman’s mouth right now.One can only hope that I’m about to interrupt something so fun for him.

Throwing my long, bleach-blond hair over my left shoulder, I pick up the joint and lighter out of the cup holder, stuffing them into my bra for safekeeping. It’s not to get high or to calm my nerves. It’s from his personal stash that he thinks I don’t know about.

My phone dings for the hundredth time in the past ten minutes, and I ignore it. The last time I checked, the video had over a million views in less than five hours. Instead, I dig into my purse and pull out my lipstick.

When I yank down my visor, the two lights on either side give me just enough visibility to reapply my Ruby Woo lipstick so it’s fresh as can be. Smacking my red lips, I smile to myself, rubbing my teeth to make sure none got on them. Showtime.

Getting out of the car, I walk to my trunk and hear whispers from kids that linger outside of the house while “Bad Moon” by Hollywood Undead plays from the inside.

“Fuck,” one guy hisses.

“Go get them,” another orders.

I smile to myself. Yes, go get them. Not sure why they’re so surprised to see me here. I fucking live here too. Do they expect me to go into hiding because of the video? If that’s the case, then they don’t know who I am. But they’re about to find out.

I grab the metal baseball bat and small can of gasoline, not even bothering to shut the trunk. I’m not here to hide what I’m about to do.

As I walk over to his car, my mother’s six-inch, red Christian Louboutin heels clap on the blacktop driveway. You gotta look your best when you decide to show your crazy. Otherwise, you’re just another stupid bitch like all the rest. Any woman can allow a man to make her go insane. The point is to stand out—be remembered and feared for your toxicity—but look fuckable while you’re doing it.

Coming to a stop at his car, I catch sight of some of the partygoers as they start running out the front double doors of the house as if there’s a fire inside. I ignore them and set the five-gallon gas can on the ground, grip the bat, and swing it at the driver’s side window.

“Fuck!” I hiss when it hits the glass and bounces back. My hands and arms vibrate from the motion, making them sting. This is harder than it looks. Removing one hand at a time, I try to shake them out.

“Oh my god, Ray. What the fuck are you doing?” I hear Tatum—my best friend—yelling while she runs down the front steps in a black mini-dress and Dior heels.

I could ask her why the fuck she’s at my house partying when she told me she had other plans tonight when I offered to go out on a double date, but I don’t. Instead, I stay on track. Widening my stance, I make sure to put all my weight on the balls of my feet. I’d hate to fall off the back of my heels. Gripping the bat tighter, I swing again. It bounces off this time as well.

“You—”

Sucking in a deep breath, I let out a scream, interrupting her, and swing the bat. This time, I aim for the edge, making it shatter. “Thank fuck.” I sigh. That’d be pretty damn embarrassing if I couldn’t get it done with an audience. I toss the bat to the side and reach inside the now broken window, being careful not to cut my arm, to unlock it with a laugh. “Look at that.” It was already unlocked. Of course, the motherfucker wouldn’t have his car locked because no one would ever fuck with his shit.

I could have checked first, but if you ask anyone who knows me, they’ll tell you that I can be dramatic. Plus, I just like to break shit. It can be very therapeutic.

When I pop the door open, the broken glass falls at my feet, and my heels crush it while I pick up the gas can. Looking inside, seeing the shattered glass covering the black and gray seats and floor makes me smile. Unscrewing the lid, I reach in and start shaking the can, letting the gas sprinkle all over. I don’t really think there’s a right or wrong way to do it. It’s not like I googled it or anything. I’m just going by what feels natural.

Then I think what the hell and toss the entire thing into the car. I remove the lighter from inside my shirt, light it up, and throw it in as well before taking a few steps back.

Fuck, that felt good.

COLTON

“YOU LIKE THAT?”Amy asks, riding my cock.

“Yeah,” I lie, fighting a yawn. I need a drink, a hit, anything to help me out. I’m fucking bored as shit.

“Hmm,” she moans, throwing her head back while her hips move back and forth.

My eyes trail down over her fake tits and thin waist. I wasn’t really in the mood to fuck, but when she offered it downstairs, I thought sure, why not?

Someone knocks on my bedroom door.

“Go away,” I growl, my fingers digging into her hips, needing more. Her boobs don’t even move while she grinds back and forth like it’s doing something for me, not bothered by someone trying to interrupt us.

“Colt—”

“I’m busy!” I sit up, glaring over her shoulder at the door. Persistent motherfucker. “Leave me the fuck—”

The door opens, and Finn leans against the doorframe. His green eyes drop to Amy’s bare ass. Tilting his head to the side, he licks his lips and announces, “Raylee’s here.”

I smile at his words, and Amy reaches up, running her hands through my hair. “She’s seen the video.” I knew it wouldn’t take long for her to return from her date.

He laughs, nodding once and still eyeing Amy, who has stopped fucking me. “Oh, she saw it all right. She’s setting your car on fire as we speak.”

“What?” I bark. Shoving Amy away, she falls off the side of the bed to the floor with a thud. “Fuck!”

“I’m sure you deserved it.” Amy laughs, not the least bit upset that I just tossed her aside. We’ve been drinking for hours, but I’m not drunk like her, so I don’t find this funny.

Not even bothering with a shirt, I run down the stairs, trying to pull my jeans up, and storm out the open front doors to see a fire raging inside of my car. “Motherfucker!”

“Damn.” Alex chuckles, already on the porch, enjoying the show. Not even bothering to stop her. “The bitch actually did it. I thought they were joking.”

My teeth grind. I don’t even give two shits about the car. No, I care that the pretty little princess is standing next to it, arms crossed over her chest, staring up at me with a smile on her face.

She’s such a little bitch.

“Get everyone off the property,” Finn orders, coming to join us on the porch. He was much slower than me coming to see the show. “We don’t need an audience watching us take care of her.”

“No,” I disagree, not taking my eyes off her.

She’s got her head cocked to the side, her long bleach-blond hair over one shoulder. She usually curls it, but it’s straight tonight. I imagine walking over to her, wrapping it around my fist, and dragging her into the house and up to my room, where I tie her facedown to my bed and beat her ass with my belt. Tears running down her face while she begs me to stop before I fuck the bitch out of her. Then leave her there, face covered in my cum, unsatisfied and humiliated. That would teach her a lesson. But I also know she’d enjoy that.

“No?” Finn chuckles. “Seriously, man? She just set your car on fire.” He points at it as if I don’t see the flames engulfing it.

Choosing not to explain myself, I ignore him, and my eyes drop to her red heels and run up over her tan, toned legs. She wears a pair of black jean shorts frayed on the bottom with a black V-neck T-shirt. Simple yet so fucking attractive at the same time. Raylee is the devil in a woman’s body. She’s vindictive, manipulative, and incredibly fucking sexy. It’s a sin really to look that good. And I should be ashamed of how obsessed I’ve become with her.

“The girl is fucking crazy,” Jenks mumbles, walking out of the house with a cigarette between his lips while he lights it. His jeans are also undone, but at least he has a shirt on.

“Where the hell were you?” Finn asks him as if he would have been able to stop her.

“Getting my dick sucked.” He takes a drag from the cigarette and blows it out. “Where were you?” he counters, and Finn just lets out a huff without responding.

“What did you expect?” Alex sighs, turning his attention to me. “You released that video. We knew she’d come after you.”

I stand, anchored to the porch. If I make one move, I’ll fucking kill her, and there are too many witnesses. Even I wouldn’t be able to buy my way out of a murder charge with all these motherfuckers recording right now. No, I’ll get my revenge later. When we’re alone. On my time. My way.

She slowly makes her way across the driveway. One hooker heel in front of the other, head held high, shoulders back, pushing her large chest out, and her hands on her narrow hips. While she walks up the stairs, my eyes stay on hers, smoke billowing around her from people throwing water on the fire. The lights from the house make her crystal blue eyes shine, and I hate that my cock is hard, and it has nothing to do with the naked woman on the floor in my bedroom.

“Boys.” She greets my friends, coming to a stop in front of me but doesn’t look at them standing next to me. Instead, her eyes stay on mine before dropping to my exposed chest. “I hope I didn’t interrupt you.” Her red-painted lips pull down slightly for a brief second as if the thought of pulling me from a woman would make her sad. But when her eyes lift to meet mine again, a devious smile spreads across her face, telling me how she really feels about what I was in the middle of. “Shouldn’t have shared that video.”

I lean forward, and she doesn’t retreat. No, that’s one thing about this bitch. She’s not afraid of anything. I get close enough to smell the smoke lingering on her clothes from what’s left of my car, and whisper, “That video is nothing compared to what I’m going to do to you.”

Pulling back, she cocks her head, placing her hands on my bare chest, and I tense from the contact. The softness of her touch makes my heart race. I wanted a reaction out of her but never thought she’d go this route. “I’m not worried.” Giving me a fuck you smile with her signature red lips, she bats her pretty eyes at me. Reaching up, she removes a joint from inside her shirt and looks at Jenks. “Do you mind?”

The motherfucker reaches out, offering her his lighter, lighting up the joint. She takes a long drag and then blows the smoke into my face before shouldering past me into the house.

“Was that from your hidden stash?” Finn asks, watching her enter the house. His eyes are glued to her ass in her frayed shorts. He’s wanted her again ever since I let them have her on the formal dining room table six weeks ago. “Dude, we should set the entire house on fire. If she’s gotten into your stash, that means she’s been in your room. No telling what she’s planted in there.”

I can’t speak. My jaw is clenched shut. My hands fist, nails digging into my palms. I expected retaliation. But this? This is more than she bargained for. She has to know that I’ll get her back. I’m prepared to go to war with her. And I don’t lose. No matter what I have to do.

But she doesn’t know why I chose to release that video now. For six weeks, I’ve held on to it. Patiently waiting. It was for a good reason. I’m going to make her mine. She’ll spend the rest of her life being my slut.

Raylee has no idea who I really am. She thinks she knows me, but all she knows is what she cares to see. I’m just a fuck to her. She’d be terrified of us and never come back to this house if she knew who we really were.

“Put out the fire,” Alex orders just as someone runs by with a bucket of water. Like that’ll do anything for it. “What do you want to do?” he asks, turning to face the house, standing next to me.

“Take care of her,” I growl.

He frowns, his blue eyes meeting mine. “Tonight?”

I shake my head. Tomorrow, we’re supposed to have lunch with her mom and my dad, which means my revenge would only be limited to tonight. “No. I’ll need more time with her.”

“All we need is one night,” Finn jokes. “I say we tie her up and make her our little slut like last time. Remind her how much she liked being fucked in that video.”

My teeth clench. Absolutely not.

A white Lexus LFA Nürburgring pulls into the driveway, and I immediately know who it is. The driver’s side door opens, and the guy gets out. He takes his time walking toward us. His slicked-back brown hair, penny loafers, slacks, and button-up make him look like a man who doesn’t belong here. “Hey, Colton.” He nods to me. “Boys.” When he reaches the porch, he looks back over his shoulder.

“Nate,” I acknowledge him. I’ve known him for years. We graduated from Barrington University with him, but we were never friends. We certainly aren’t now.

He whistles, turning to face the show. “What the fuck happened?”

“Your—”

“You know how our parties get.” I interrupt Finn before he can tell Nate the truth.

“Yeah, but …” Nate laughs. “Even this is crazy for you, Colt.” He slaps me on the shoulder before turning to face me. “Have you seen Raylee?”

Alex snorts and mumbles, “He’s wishing he hadn’t.”

“How’s that going, by the way?” Finn asks him. “You guys have been together for a while now.”

Five weeks to be exact.I hate myself for even knowing that.

As if that’s an odd question, Nate frowns, wondering why the fuck my friend would care about his love life. “Good.” He finally answers, but his tone sounds unsure as if we know something that he doesn’t.

Ahh, Raylee, your boyfriend just told on you.I bite my lip to keep from smiling. “She’s up in her room,” I say, pointing toward the open front doors, letting him go before anything else can be said.

“Fuck, Colt.” A guy by the name of David runs up the stairs, his cell in one hand and a beer in the other. “You sure know how to piss off Raylee.” He shakes his head and adds, “You guys are brave to let her live here.” He laughs while entering the house.

Nate looks at me. “Ray did this?”

“Makes you wonder what Colt did to get her to go this far,” Finn adds, and I narrow my eyes at him, silently telling him to shut the fuck up.

“What happened?” Nate asks me.

I shrug. “Hell if I know?” If he doesn’t already know, I’m not going to ruin the surprise now. Not without her here too. That would be selfish of me.

Without saying another word, Nate walks past us into the house, no doubt to go find out what the hell I’ve done for her to set my car on fire.

“What do you think that’s about?” Finn asks.

“He hasn’t seen the video,” I answer, smiling. Little Miss Priss doesn’t want him to know that she’s been my dirty little slut.

“I don’t know about that,” he argues. “It’s been all over the internet. I’ve had over fifty people send it to me because they didn’t know I was there.”

I shrug. “It’s the only explanation that makes sense right now.”

“Want me to make everyone leave?” Jenks asks, throwing his cigarette down and stepping on it.

“Let them stay.” I wave him off.

“Sure?”

“Yeah, we were throwing them a party after all.” I end the conversation, entering the house and making my way back up to my room. I walk in to see that Amy had managed to make her way to my bed, but she’s naked and passed out. The thought crosses my mind to storm into Little Miss Priss’s room, force her to her knees, and fuck that pretty face of hers, but I don’t. Nate’s in there, probably getting exactly what I want from her.

I’ll let him have it for now. But it’ll be his last time.