“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.
He stops and steps back, wiping his face with his sleeve. I drag in breaths and try to blink away the burning in my eyes, nearly vomiting my dinner back up as I drop to my knees and gag.
“Are you going to answer me now?”
Barely able to fill my lungs with air, it takes me a full minute to make sure I don’t pass out. The room is blurry and spinning, and so much pressure is building behind my eyes and my head.
“Fucking answer me!”
When I ignore him again, his foot drops down on the back of my head, my mouth colliding with the ground, and I instantly regret coming home.
6
STACEY
“Right, I have a proposition for you,” Lu says excitedly.
I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror, wiping away the condensation from my shower. There are black circles beneath my eyes, probably from my lack of sleep over the last few days. I have a gash on my cheek from where my face smacked into the floor, and I’m certain my pinkie is broken from Chris stomping on it.
This needs to stop.
I just have no idea how to end it. Even if Nora or Kyle would believe me when I told them, I don’t think they’d be able to stop Chris from burying me in the garden. I even contemplated telling Kade a few years ago, because I knew he’d do something about it. But every time he asked me where I got my bruises, I’d lie and say they were from dancing.
I always lie. And I hate it.
“What’s the proposition? And no, I’m not taking your classes when you get back from America. I’m far too busy.”
“You did before!” she exclaims, and I can tell she’s probably throwing her arm around and pacing her bedroom. “Please. I really can’t be bothered teaching a bunch of kids.”
“No.”
She sighs. “Fine. But wait, you said when you get back, not we. Are you not coming?”
“I am. I’m just tired is all. Who’s going again?” I ask, rubbing my towel into my hair to dry it a little then putting her on loudspeaker to brush my teeth.
“Just us I think. Mum and Ewan are there already obviously, and Jason didn’t get time off work. My grandmother is apparently meeting us at the hotel near my dad’s institution, but we’ll see. She never shows up.”
I shouldn’t be disappointed, but I get why Kade isn’t going.
“Your dad’s mum?”
Lu huffs. “Unfortunately. I can’t stand her, and I’m certain my mum wants to punch her in the face every time she talks.”
Her phone beeps, and she’s silent for a beat.
“Oh shit, yeah, my brother just reminded me that him and Dez are fixing the ceiling at the studio tonight. Aren’t you taking the dance class? ”
Oh fuck off.
“Awesome.” I sigh. “Yeah, I am. I’m taking over for Tylar’s classes until she gets back from Rome. It’s the advanced class.”
By the time she hangs up, my hair is nearly dry, and my nerves are ready to explode at the thought of Kade being at the studio. I rub moisturiser over all the dark tattoos on my body – most are on my arms, but there are a few on my legs and torso.
Some of them Kade designed for me. They were supposed to be matching. I refuse to cover them up like he did.
I leave the bathroom, quickly making sure the door is locked before getting dressed and sorting my dance bag. I pack my Pleasers and fishnet tights to wear with my bodysuit.
The last time Kade saw me dressed like this, dancing with fire for a competition I never got to participate in, I ended up bouncing over his cock on the studio floor until three in the morning.
Once I make sure the coast is clear, I run down the stairs as quickly and as quietly as possible, managing to escape the mansion before Chris can tackle me into a room.
I’ve never come across someone so messed up, not even when I spoke to Tobias Mitchell on the phone.
My son deserves better, he’d told me. You ruined him.
I mean, he was half right – Kade did deserve better, but I definitely didn’t ruin him. He seems to be happier than ever with his alcohol, drugs and fucking everything around him. He never partied like this before, but now it seems to be all he does .
He seems happy.
So no, I didn’t ruin him. But I did earn a spot on his block list.
I thank the Uber driver that drops me off at the dance studio and climb out of the car. The coldness of the night bites into my skin as I hurry down the steps into the building – then nearly scream out profanities when I slam into something.
Or someone.
His dark brows knit together as he glares down at me, his blue eyes so intense I struggle to look at them.
“Um, sorry,” I mutter as Kade leans down to grab my dance bag, tucking it back onto my shoulder. The hallway is narrow, cool, but having him so close is making the place feel like an inferno. “Is Dez here too?”
He nods once, pulling the cigarette from behind his ear, then eases past me, heading for the exit.
Back to the silent treatment, I guess.
“Where are you going?”
He raises the lighter and cigarette above his head as he makes his way to the stairs.
I glance at my phone screen to check the time and quickly say, “Um, my class doesn’t start for an hour. Do you want me to go to another hall? I need to warm up and run through my routine.”
Kade turns to face me, still walking backwards. He honestly couldn’t look more unbothered as he shrugs. “I’ve seen you dance plenty of times.”
My cheeks heat at the fact he’s speaking to me, even though it means nothing. He spoke to me that night at the manor. I mean, it wasn’t exactly a positive conversation, but it was the first time he’d broken a breath towards me in two years, even if it was only to insult me.
“My music will be loud,” I add. “Very loud.”
Another shrug. I might slap him if he shrugs again.
“I like loud music.”
I stare at his powerful, well-built back as he takes two stairs at a time before I head in. I give Dez a half-smile when he ducks down from the ceiling.
“Alrighty, Rhodes.”
“Hi, Desmond.”
He chuckles. “Don’t start that shit.” He waves a screwdriver at me. “I told that prick my real name in confidence and she told everyone.”