2. Alexis

2

The sickening realization washes over me like an icy wave. This was no dream, no horrible mistake. Mark's hands roam shamelessly over Emma's bare skin as she arches her back and moans.

A strangled cry escapes my lips before I can stop it. Mark and Emma's heads whip around in unison, faces shifting from ecstasy to… annoyance.

My eyes brim with tears and the pair become blurry. How could Mark do this to me? I've been nothing but loyal and loving to him for five years.

And Emma—my own sister.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Alexis?" Mark demands, his eyes narrowing in the way they always do when he gets angry with me.

I want to scream at him and tell him I'm here to surprise him for our anniversary, but I'm incapable of saying anything, only staring at them in horror.

Can they hear the sound of my heart breaking? I know I can.

"Well?" Mark demands as he pulls up his underwear and storms toward me. I tense as he approaches, expecting him to raise his fist. "Are you going to fucking talk?"

"I–I… it's our anniversary," I stammer out, my tongue feeling heavy and thick in my mouth.

Mark raises an eyebrow as Emma rolls over on the bed and laughs.

"Oh, this is hilarious," she says, leaning up on her elbows to smirk at me. I avert my eyes, not wanting to look at her naked form. "Mark, did you even remember today is your anniversary?"

"Nope," Mark says, his cold blue eyes never leaving my face.

I search his face, desperate to find any sort of regret, horror… something that will show he feels bad for what he's done.

But there's nothing. He looks at me like I'm nothing.

He scans me up and down. "You look like a slut, Alexis."

I gape at him. "Y–You told me to buy this dress?—"

Emma laughs again. "Poor Alexis. You came here expecting Mark to take one look at you and finally stick his cock in your frigid vagina, right?" She twirls a piece of blonde hair around her finger. "How would it make you feel to know Mark and I have been fucking for the past five years?"

It makes me feel like I've been punched in the gut. Breathing has become much, much harder and the room feels like it's getting smaller.

"How could you do this to me, Emma?" I whisper. Emma's never been the kindest to me, but she's never been so outright cruel before. "I thought we were sisters."

Emma scoffs and rolls her eyes. "We are not sisters," she snaps. "I've hated you for years, ever since your disgusting ass came into my house." A sly smile spreads across her face, making Emma's pretty features seem almost grotesque.

"Did you really think Mark was in love with you this whole time?"

I can't breathe.

"You did! Bravo, baby. You've really played this well." She sits up. "Mark and I were already sleeping together when I introduced you two."

I struggle to process Emma's words. Emma watches me intently, her smile growing as she sees the pain written all over my face.

"Have you ever loved me, Mark?" I ask desperately, hoping Emma is just saying this to hurt me. In a perfect world, Mark would denounce Emma's words and tell me that he's been in love with me all this time.

But the truth is staring me in the face with Mark's silence.

He never loved me.

Suddenly, white hot anger courses through me. I've wasted five years of my life on this man, only to find out he's been two-timing me with my foster sister.

"We're over," I whisper through my tears. Mark cocks his head to the side.

"What did you say?"

"I said, we're done?—"

"No, you stupid idiot. I heard you say that. What I'm saying is that you are not the one who gets to decide when this relationship ends. I do."

I shake my head, feeling surer of myself than I ever have. "You don't have a choice, Mark. It's my decision. I never want to see your cheating, lying, scumbag ass ever again?—"

My head suddenly snaps back as pain explodes in my cheek. I fly through the air before landing on my back, the wind taken out of me.

Mark stands over me, fury on his face and his hand still in the air. "Don't you ever," he growls, "ever talk to me like that again."

I clutch the side of my stinging face as my ears ring.

Mark has never hit me before.

Physical abuse isn't unfamiliar to me. My previous foster family doled that out in spades, and the Carters utilized spanking as punishment. But I never expected to be hit by Mark.

He was supposed to be my safe person.

"You hit me," I whisper.

Mark rolls his eyes as Emma sidles up to him, her eyes darting between us. "No shit," he snaps. "How fucking stupid are you?"

Any anger I once felt has quickly disappeared. I know I should fight back, but I don't have it in me. I don't know if I have anything in me anymore.

Everything in my body is telling me to run, but I'm not good at listening to my instincts. When conflict unfolded, I normally didn't know how to react. Instead, I would freeze, my body icing over.

"Get out of here," Mark hisses, wrapping an arm around Emma's waist. "I'll deal with you later."

The malice in his voice promises retribution, and I suddenly unfreeze, scrambling up and fleeing. Tears track down my cheeks as I bite back a sob.

I barely remember the train ride home as my heartbreak distracts me. I just want to get home and hide in my bed.

My chest feels hollow, like someone carved out my heart and left an aching void. How could Mark and Emma betray me so callously? His anniversary present still sits in my bag, taunting me. While I was busy saving my money to buy him a thoughtful gift, he was fucking my foster sister.

And he didn't even remember our anniversary.

I never meant anything to him.

When I get home, Dennis and Suzanne are waiting for me in the kitchen. Although they've never treated me like a daughter, I at least hope they'll be the slightest bit compassionate about what I've just gone through.

"Alexis," Dennis says, frowning. "What happened to your face?"

I sniffle, wiping away mascara tracks from one side of my cheek. The side where Mark hit me is swollen and painful.

"Mark happened," I croak, fresh tears spilling down my face. "He–he hit me."

Dennis and Suzanne glance at each other, and for a brief moment, I think they're going to be horrified by Mark's behavior.

Instead, Suzanne scowls. "Well, what did you do to upset him?"

I startle, mouth agape. "W–what?"

"Don't play stupid, Alexis," Suzanne snaps. "Mark hit you for a reason. What did you do?"

How could they think this is my fault? I stare at them, unable to say a word.

Dennis slams his hand against the well-scrubbed wooden table. I flinch. "Dammit, Alexis! Answer the fucking question!"

"It's because Alexis finally figured out Mark and I have been sleeping together," Emma drawls, walking in the door with Mark behind her. "She tried to break up with him."

I truly expect Dennis and Suzanne to be upset by this news, maybe even yell at her.

What I'm not expecting is their next reaction.

"Mark!" Dennis yells. "How could you hit her in the face? Don't you realize how long it'll take for that to heal?"

It truly feels like I've just been punched in the stomach, the wind knocked out of me. Instead of being upset that Mark struck me, the Carters are angry that Mark struck me in a place that is hard to hide.

Mark shrugs, an arm slung around Emma. "She deserved it. She pissed me off."

"You knew that Emma and Mark were sleeping together?" I whisper, my body cold.

"Of course we knew," Suzanne bites out. "Mark has needs and Emma was willing to satisfy him, since you weren't. But this works out nicely, actually."

My brain is screaming at me to run, but my entire body feels like Jell-O and I can't move.

Mark nods, a twisted smile playing on his lips. "It really does, Suzanne."

"What are you talking about?" I whisper, my heart beating a staccato in my chest. My stomach churns as something inside me is telling me I'm about to hear something horrible.

Emma looks at her nails, bored. "We're going to sell you, stupid."

My brain seemingly short circuits and I find it hard to breathe.

"The Brotherhood will pay a lot of money for you, Alexis," Suzanne says soothingly, as if that'll make me feel better. "Just think of how much you'll be helping us."

"B–but I cook and clean?—"

Dennis shakes his head. "That's not enough, Alexis. We have debts—lots of them. And The Brotherhood will pay a pretty penny for your virginity."

I suddenly lunge for the door, desperate to get out of here. The Carters and Mark have lost their minds. There's no way they can be serious, but I don't want to find out if they are.

"Oh, no, you don't!" Mark grabs me around my middle and backhands me as I fall to the ground. I cry out as my back collides painfully with the edge of the wall. Mark crouches down and grabs me by my hair so I'm forced to look into his eyes.

"You listen to me well, Alexis Hartley," he says venomously. "You have no choice in this matter. You will be sold to The Brotherhood, where they can do God knows what." He pulls on my hair harder, and I gasp, my eyes smarting.

"It's a good thing you've been such a frigid bitch," he taunts me. "Your virginity will fetch us a very, very high price." He glances at Dennis and Suzanne, who watch the situation with no emotion. "Where should I put her?"

"In the basement," Suzanne states. "And lock the door. We don't want her to get out before The Brotherhood gets here."

As Mark carries me, kicking and screaming, to the basement, I barely hear the lock click over the echo of my sobs.

"Let me out!" I scream as I bang on the door as hard as I can.

But it's no use. No one is going to come for me.

I'm all alone.

I curl up on the stairs, hiccupping. My face is throbbing from the force of my cries and from Mark's abuse.

But I don't know what hurts worse. The physical pain or the pain of knowing the Carters and Mark have never cared about me.

Have they been waiting until I turned twenty-one in order to implement their plan? Is that why Mark has been dating me for so long?

Was I just a means to an end?

But I have to get out of here. I can't wait for The Brotherhood—whoever they are—to come and get me.

The Carters wouldn't care if The Brotherhood then sold me to someone evil.

I look around the basement carefully. Even though this has been my room for the last three years, I've never really taken a close look at my surroundings. There has to be another means of escape.

There! How have I never seen it before? A grimy, small window is tucked in the upper right corner of the basement. Now, if I could somehow get up there and open it.

My dresser.

I nearly slip down the stairs as I run to seize my dresser and push it against the wall. With a grunt of exertion, I hoist myself up. I'm now at eye level with the window.

To my relief, the window has a rusty latch. Quickly sliding it open, I gasp as cold air slaps me in the face.

But I don't care. I'll take the cold as long as it means freedom.

Biting my lip, I thrust myself forward, squeezing my body through the narrow opening. I'm terrified that the Carters or Mark will decide to check on me and see me halfway out the window.

I wiggle my hips, scrabbling at the dirt and grass to hopefully provide me some stability. I fight back a cry as I pull myself forward, my heart pounding.

I can't afford for the Carters or Mark to find me. They'll throw me in a windowless room then with no means of escape.

"Come on, come on," I whisper. With one almighty push, I wiggle my hips through, scraping my bare thighs on the edge of the rusty window. I fall face first into the dirt.

But I'm out. I'm free. I scramble to my feet and run, trying to put as much distance between myself and the Carters.

I don't get very far before someone yanks me by my arm and pulls me to a hard, unforgiving chest. The cold metal of a gun presses against my temple, and I flinch.

This can't be happening, my mind screams over and over again.

"Don't you make one fucking sound," a voice growls in my ear. "If you run, you die."