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“Yes, actually.” I sit up straighter, trying to appear confident and aloof even though I’m actually terrified. “I’m meeting my boyfriend.”
The man laughs, which sets my teeth on edge. “I would never let my woman leave the house wearing something like that. Someone might get the wrong impression.”
Something about his expression makes me believe he is getting the wrong impression of me. And that scares me.
Emma would have a sarcastic quip or witty comeback, but I say nothing, hoping the man gets the hint and leaves me alone.
Thankfully, I’m the next stop and I hurry off the train with a throng of other people, melting into the crowd.
I breathe a sigh of relief as I tighten my coat around me, wishing I had something to cover my legs.
No matter. I’ll steal a pair of Mark’s sweatpants in the morning.
All too soon, Mark’s red brick apartment building comes into my view. I quickly hurry my pace, my feet throbbing as I totter about in my high heels.
My body starts to thaw as I head inside and step into the elevator. I relish the warmth of the heating even though the elevator smells faintly of weed.
I finger Mark’s key as butterflies explode in my stomach at the thought of surprising him. He’s going to be so excited.
So why do I feel like I’m going to my funeral? Shouldn’t I be happy I’m going to lose my virginity?
I unlock his door and step inside the apartment.
Mark is nowhere to be found.
That’s strange. His keys are on the counter.
A strange sound floats from Mark’s bedroom, and I freeze. It sounds like a bed squeaking.
My heart pounds and my breathing becomes shallow. Moans float from his open door.
I know I should leave and tell myself that Mark had friends over who were taking advantage of Mark’s kindness.
But I don’t leave.
My feet feel like lead as I cross the length of the room to the door to see the source of the noise.
What I see makes me feel like I was just punched in the chest.
Mark is standing at the end of the bed, his bare ass facing the door, thrusting forward and backward, his hands gripping the hips of a woman crouched over the bed. Mark yanks the woman’s hair and slaps her ass as the woman screams Mark’s name in pleasure.
I know that voice.
It’s Emma, my foster sister.
2
ALEXIS
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.
