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“I did. It was comforting to know she had someone in her corner when I couldn’t be there, but now I need another favor.” My lips press together, knowing what he’s about to say. It’s written all over his face even if I hadn’t heard what he said to Casey. “Now, I need you to stay away from her.”
“And why is that?”
His dark blond hair brushes his shoulders as he shakes his head. “The whys aren’t important. It’s only important that you do it.”
“Is that a request or a demand?”
“It’s whatever it needs to be for you to listen. Trust me, it’s for the best.” He doesn’t give me a chance to agree before he walks off.
Maybe it’s better he didn’t wait for my response because I’m not sure staying away from her is even possible.
Graham
My fingers loop into my tie, loosening the knot around my neck, as I slip through the heavy door into the foyer decorated in more crazy colors and geometric shapes than anything Picasso ever dreamed of painting. The over-the-top ostentatious color explosion simultaneously causes nausea and migraines. Krista decorated every house my father owned in the same ridiculous display of wealth that is more crass than class, even for a former record label owner who spends most of his time surrounded by musicians and artists.
I’m sure my dad’s parasite threw a fit when all the houses were auctioned off to pay his debt. I stepped in for this one because my mother loved it.
I secretly bought the house in Los Angeles when it was auctioned, then burned it to the ground. It was full of memories that didn’t need remembering.
I head to the spiral staircase, shaking my head at the glass railing and steps that replaced the original ironwork, trying to get away from the vomit-inducing décor as quickly as possible, and wonder for the millionth time how the hell she went through enough money to provide dozens of family lives of luxury for a lifetime in less than a decade.
I’ve accumulated a vast fortune in my ambitious drive for power that I couldn’t spend in one hundred lifetimes even with my pretentious taste, yet Krista could squander it in one.
With each step up the spiral staircase, the headache that began before I left the office throbs a little harder, pounding to the rhythm of my feet.
It’s been a long week, and it’s only Wednesday. I’ve been putting out fires with distributors and vendors for Sin Records. My other businesses have all required my attention. It’s been an endless cycle.
The good thing is it’s kept me distracted, keeping me from doing something stupid.
Like stalking my pretty little stepsister more than I already do. I’ve got to keep my damn head.
I need a drink, a shower, and a fuck. However, the latter will be a date with my hand since the idea of going out is as appealing as a colonoscopy. Not to mention the fact there’s only one pussy I’m interested in. Over the years, as much as I hated it, it didn’t matter who I was with; it was her face in my mind and her name on my lips. Eventually, the thought of touching anyone turned my stomach, so my right hand and I became well acquainted.
When I reach the fourth-floor landing, I turn left toward the library, preferring to raid the small bar there rather than venture through the rest of the monstrous décor for a larger selection. The last thing I expect when I open the door is to find long legs on tiptoes, brushing delicate fingers across the book spines. My eyes drink up the path from those toned calves and thighs dressed in tights with tiny athletic shorts over them to the long, blond braid hanging down her back. She’s still in her dance gear, but a massive hoodie covers her and when her arm drops, it falls until those shorts disappear beneath its long hem. Jealousy burns through me as I wonder who the hoodie might belong to, then I shove it away to admire the view.
My shoulder props against the doorframe, watching as shemoves with ethereal grace, examining the titles of books as if she doesn’t know each one as well as I do—as if she hasn’t read almost every title housed in this room. The lift of her arm as she strokes the words on the old books is effortless. Each step taken as she moves to another shelf is fluid. Her body moves with a natural elegance and easy precision.
She’s breathtaking, even in the mundane, yet has no clue how stunning she is. But my dick does, punching the fabric of my pants, ready to escape its confines and sink into her.
Not today, buddy. Not today.
She finally settles on a title, tilting the book a bit with a long, slender finger before pulling it free. Her attention stays on the cover as she turns around, quietly humming in the off-key way she always has. Some little tune I don’t recognize, but she’s hummed it since the day I met her. On the sad night in this very room, I found a tearful little girl crying for her dad as she held her knees to her chest and sang that song.
“Haven’t you read that one enough?” I tease, having no clue what book she’s picked.
Her midnight eyes snap to mine, wide with shock, and the book slips from her grasp. “I-uh…” She drops to her heels, retrieving the thick volume without lifting her eyes. “I didn’t know you would be here.”
I planned to get a place of my own, but after talking with my dad, I knew I was needed here. Even if the last place I want to be is anywhere near drama that involves Krista.
“Hmm. I take it had you known you wouldn’t be here now?”
She bites her lip with a slight shake of her head.
I shove my hands in my pocket, my jaw clenching. It pisses me off, but at least she didn’t lie to me, I suppose.
My chest expands as I inhale, forcing the anger away. Keeping my temper in check has never been easy, but I’ve learned to control it better over the years. Or I like to think I have, but with Casey, I’ve always tried. Especially after I realized how her mother was treating her. Yelling and fast movements trigger her. It’s why I’ve always suspected Krista did more than just verbally abuse her.
“Well, Ilivehere.” When her pretty mouth makes an ‘O’, I smirk. “The better question would be, why areyouhere?” If she says to see her mother, I might strangle her.
