Insatiable (The Edge of Darkness, #1)(14)

I can’t say, Oh to see Tobias fucking Mitchell with his children, can I? First off, they’d freak because he’s famous around here. And then they’d lock me in my room, so I’d never see that family again.

When I don’t respond, he kicks the table. “Who are you going with? ”

“Friends.”

“Who?”

“Fucking hell.” Kyle tosses down his fork, Nora scowling at him for his bad language. “Does it matter? Let her breathe, man. You’re unbearable at times. And so are you,” he says to his mother. “She’s old enough to do what she wants.”

“Fine. But you will call me every day,” Nora says, before continuing to eat her dinner.

I mouth a thank you to Kyle and finish eating, ignoring Chris’s death stare while I gulp down my glass of wine.

Kyle isn’t aware of just how insufferable his brother is. He thinks Chris is possessive over me because he’d always wanted a little sister growing up, but if he really knew what he was like, I’m not sure who would murder who.

There have been so many occasions where I considered telling him. So many times, while he rushed me to Accident and Emergency, I debated telling him the truth, because I think he’d believe me. But then again, my dad didn’t, so it isn’t worth the risk.

Plus, I don’t want Kyle getting hurt.

If I told Lu or Tylar, they’d demand I leave – pack my bags and run away. But not only do they not know Chris exists, they also wouldn’t understand just how psychotic he is, the lengths he’d go to in order to control me. I think I’m the only one who knows what he’s truly capable of.

He makes Tobias Mitchell look like a saint.

It’s like being in an abusive relationship without the sex and emotional connection. I’m not not leaving because I’m his partner and I love him and part of me hopes he’ll change. I’m not deluded into thinking he has any capacity to be sane. No, not even close. I’m still here because I’m far too scared to run away and I’m broke.

And even if I did manage to escape, he’d hunt every inch of this earth to find me.

I want a voice, but I have no idea how to use it or how I’d stop his wrath if I did.

We continue eating, but Chris just stares at his plate. There’s nothing in his eyes, nothing in his tone. Nothing but pure rage. And all his anger is towards me. Like he’s calculating how hard to throw the knife to make sure it goes right through my skull.

I clear my throat, turning to Nora. “May I be excused?”

The corners of her eyes crinkle as she smiles at me. “Of course. Take the rest of the wine with you.”

“Thank you.” I turn to Kyle and Chris and say with a nod, “Goodnight.”

Chris scowls at me as I grab the bottle and leave the table.

The walk to my room is nerve-wracking – my feet can’t possibly go any faster. I get to my door before I’m thrown against the wall.

I was so goddamn close.

“The fuck was that all about?”

Before, when he started being more aggressive with me, I’d cry and plead with him to leave me alone, but now I simply roll my eyes and look anywhere but at him. “What did I do this time?”

“You know what I’m talking about. Saturday night. And you’ve been ignoring me since.”

When I raise a shoulder, he snatches the wine bottle from my hand and takes my jaw in a painful grip. “Who was he?”

Chris was so gone from reality that he hadn’t noticed who was holding me; he hadn’t noticed it was Kade Mitchell with his arms around my waist. He definitely knows who he is – the entire town does – but I guess he can’t remember his face because he was on so many narcotics.

The grip on my jaw tightens, and Chris crushes my body with his.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you? Did you forget what happened the last time?”

Even as my heart shatters, I grit my teeth despite how close they feel to cracking.

Chris yanks me from the wall and shoves me into my bedroom, slamming the door behind us. He still has the wine bottle to hand, and I already know what he’s going to do.

“Lie down.”

I fold my arms. “Absolutely not.”

“Tell me who he was,” he continues, walking me around the room as I try to get away from him. “Who the fuck had his hands on you?”

“I’m your sister.”

He snatches my jaw again, angles my head right back, and before I can yell at him to fuck off, or even take a breath, he pries my lips apart and pours the wine into my mouth.

“Stepsister. So I can do whatever the fuck I want to you. You’re mine, remember? Now, since you like to drink so much, fucking drink.”

I choke, slapping at his chest, face and arms, but he doesn’t budge as the alcohol glugs down my throat. I cough as it flows into my eyes, up my nose, down my top and soaks my clothes, and I try to close my mouth, to clench my teeth or cough the liquid away, so I can fill my lungs with air, but his hold on me only tightens. Pain erupts all over my face from his grip, and tears mix with the red wine on my cheeks.

My chest is burning, sick rising up my throat with the wine he’s drowning me with.

The tears falling down his cheeks make him look like he’s hurting, but he’s the one abusing me. He always cries.