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21
Trent
She was right.After watching last week’s off-centered video of us fucking on her bed for the twentieth time, I came to that realization as I stood over my brother’s lifeless body in our basement room.
She was right. John may have been my brother, the one who had molded me since I was a child and made me who I was, but I could no longer live my life for him.
She was my life now, and I would fight for her.
But my brother’s last words echoed in my head.
She’ll never love you, not as long as he’s in her life. And you’ll never be man enough to take him out of the equation. You’ll never have her, and you’ll only ever be mine.
I was more than just his, and I would never be his again. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. Not if I wanted true happiness.
But he was right about one thing. As long as that blond beef-head was in her life, she would never love me the way she should. She’d never love me the way my brother had. And with him no longer by my side, I needed her love now more than ever.
She would move into my brother’s house with me. She would come to our favorite room and live with me the way my brother had. We would be happy together, without the interference of my family or her friends.
I pulled up outside her house, parking my car in the street. Try as I might, I hadn’t been able to see more than a shadow of movement through the cameras I’d set up around the inside of her house. It irritated me to no end. She should know better than to move our cameras. How else was I supposed to see her when I wasn’t there? How else could I record that sweet look on her face when her orgasm took her, and rewatch it again and again?
After shutting off the cameras on the outside of the house with the app on my phone, I used my key on the front door. As always, the metal slid in the hole like a hot knife through butter, and the door opened so silently only someone standing next to it would know. But no one was standing next to it. There was nothing there but a small stack of boxes and a half-empty room.
“Good girl,” I murmured quietly. I was pleasantly surprised. “You’re already packed and ready to go.”
The mermaid statue still sat in its pot, but the pot was sitting on the kitchen table with a handful of other plants from around the house. It explained why the cameras weren’t working. Why I couldn’t see the rooms I’d planted them in. The kitchen, living room, and bedroom cameras were black as ink, while the hanging basket in the bathroom had somehow been turned, showing a sliver of her bedroom, but not her bed.
She would learn, just as Maddy had done, not to touch the cameras. When she got to my house, when she was down in that basement room, she would learn not to move the things that were mine.
There were noises coming from the bedroom, and for a moment, all I wanted to do was pull up my phone and watch the screen—watch my girl coming on my dick. But then I remembered, the cameras weren’t working. And those noises weren’t recorded; they were live and happening right now.
Each step I took toward the bedroom was carefully laid. I’d been in this house enough times to know exactly which floorboards creaked, and which ones I needed to avoid. The trickiest place was right outside the bedroom door. But it was only a problem when the door was closed.
Tonight, it stood wide open.
Tonight, it bore her secret to me.
Her lithe body rocked the way I’d seen it so many times on camera before. With one of those horrible, bright floral shirts she was fond of wearing to bed draping her beautiful skin, I couldn’t see as much of her as I wanted. And I couldn’t see the beef-head under her, even though I knew he was there.
Full of shock and anger and rage, I fumbled for the gun in my jacket pocket, and I didn’t watch where I was stepping. The toe of my boot hit the corner of a cardboard box and landed on one of the only squeaky floorboards in the room.
Her head whipped around, and her pretty blue eyes connected with mine, making me feel the same way I had the moment I first saw her. Except, all the love and gentle kindness she’d always shown me was missing. But I couldn’t focus on the gorgeous goddess. Instead, my attention was drawn to the man she was straddling.
It wasn’t him.
It wasn’t the blond beef-head, Miller. The man I’d pushed off the cliff. The man I’d tried to kill. This was…
“Wh-who are you?”
“Steve? Oh my God! What are you doing here?” She rolled off the curly-haired man with black markings inked on his skin. Wide green eyes the color of the sea stared back at me even as his hands reached for her as she rose off the mattress.
“Wh-who are y-you?” I asked again, this time demanding an answer with the barrel of my gun pointed at the mermaid tattoo marked on his chest.
Mysti was standing on the mattress, clutching that too-large shirt closed at her breasts, while the smell of her sex wafted toward me from between her legs. With one placating hand raised in my direction, she said, “Steve, this is my fiancé, Trenton. Trenton, this is the guy from the security company, Steve.”
“Quit! Quit calling me that!” She jerked as my voice boomed through the room. “M-my name is Tr-Trent.” I grabbed my head, yanking at my short hair even with my gun clutched in my hand. “M-my name is Trent.”
Mysti’s brow furrowed. She dropped her hand to her shirt, zipping through the buttons as she lowered to her knees. The dim light from the bedside lamp glinted across the diamond in her ring.
