“Ari,” he breathes, inhaling deeply.
Pulling away, I stare into my father’s eyes, seeing the truth shine through. Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I back away and allow my arms to fall down by my sides. “You two know each other, don’t you? You’ve met before.”
“On your first day of school, Ari,” my father states, swallowing hard.
I shake my head. “No, I mean from before.”
When he doesn’t move, speak, or even try to figure out what’s going on, that’s when things start to feel … off. I never told him where I was at last night, so he shouldn’t even be here. He should have knocked on my dorm room. Instead, here he is in all his glory after months of silence.
That’s when I put it together. The way my father looked at him on the first day; the way they interacted with each other, all stilted and formal. Yes, they shook hands and made pleasantries, but that’s as far as it went. It’s like—I don’t even know what it’s like, but I know it’s wrong.
A sick, sadistic chuckle of laughter from behind churns my insides. “You didn’t actually think contacting daddy would do anything, did you? You didn’t think I knew what you were doing, but I did. There are cameras all over this dorm.” Then his heat warms my back; his arm wrapping around my waist as his lips tease my ear as, he whispers, “Daddy isn’t going to help you, brat, because he sold you to me.”
He sold you to me … My breath sticks like glue in my lungs, making it hard to breathe. I break away from him to peer up at the only person who shares blood ties with me. He looks guilty, grief-stricken; I don’t even have to ask if it’s true, because I can see it is by his reaction. But that doesn’t stop me from asking, anyway.
“You sold me?” My words come out barely above the hum of a whispering wind. “Like, a piece of furniture or something?”
“It’s not like that, honey,” my father steps forward, giving Brett a scathing glare. “I didn’t have a—”
Emotions roar through me. I sneer, my features twisting up in disgust. “If you stand there and tell me you didn’t have a choice, I will throat punch you.”
That stops him in his tracks. Even through all the shit we’ve been through, I’ve never threatened bodily harm. He’s my father; the only man I should be able to count on to protect and watch over me safely. Now, I know, I never had that. Not before my mother died, and not now. Greed and connections are the only thing he cares about.
He sighs. “I didn’t.”
He didn’t. He fucking didn’t?! Fury completely envelops me to the point my vision tinges in red. I stare at him in complete disbelief. Selling something is a yes or no answer. Selling someone—the answer shouldn’t take a moment’s hesitation. The answer should always, and irrevocably, be no.
“Everyone has a choice!” I lash out. “Just because this asshole has money, doesn’t mean he gets to buy me.” Then it all clicks into place, like a truck driving full speed into a wall. It’s ugly. Deranged. Not a situation I’d ever think I would find myself in the middle of. “That’s why you’ve been ignoring me, isn’t it? Until I called ‘wallflower,’ you were going to keep me in the dark about this.”
He nods sheepishly. “It was the only way.”
The only way? He has to be kidding. I’m not a piece of furniture, cattle, or an object for the taking. I’m a human; a person with choices and morals and freedoms everyone seems to be trying to take away from me.
Well, it’s not going to happen. I didn’t think telling the truth would push Brett this far. That he had to hit me while I was down, so I may never get back up. What’s the point? After this, he’ll be lucky if I don’t claw his face off any time he gets near. He’ll be lucky, or maybe not so lucky, if he can sleep with me in the same living quarters as him.
I want blood.
He gave my father money for something that does not belong to him, so the debt is with me.
They owe me for thinking they could take my life away like this.
“The only way for what? To pad your banking account, so if Laura leaves you, you’ll be set?” The nerve of him. “You sold your goddamn daughter. So, tell me, how much am I worth, hm? How much did this sick, sadistic, repulsive piece of shit buy me for?”
A low-timbered growl reverberates through Brett’s chest. If he thinks I give two shits, he’s sorely mistaken. I don’t care about him, or the other two. They’re friends with him, knowing how he is. So, who’s saying they don’t know about this, too? I’m almost positive they do, which is why they acted how they did last night.
“A million,” he replies softly.
I gasp for air, the pain in my chest becoming unbearable. “You sold me for a million dollars?”
“He had your price at five, but I renegotiated,” Brett says with a smug grin twisting his evil features. “He had to pay for your disobedience.”
They say beauty is only skin deep, and now I know that with absolute certainty. Because underneath Brett’s skin lies an ugly monster with ugly intentions.
CHAPTER 18
I grab at my chest when the pain becomes too much, rubbing in small circles. It feels like someone stuck their hand in my chest cavity, then ripped out the hot, beating organ that resides within. I feel powerless, and so unimportant. How can two men make me feel this way?
I’m supposed to be the only person who has a say in what I do, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. According to my father and Brett, I’m now the property of the Kingston heir. I go where he says, when he says, and do nothing except what he says. It’s no longer my choice, and as frightening as it is, it’s still not as frightening as being here, alone, with him.
After my father left, he didn’t even say goodbye. Of course, he didn’t. He no longer has the right to even look in my direction if Brett deems it. Why did he even come in the first place if he was going to leave me here? If there was nothing he could do about getting me away, I would have much rather had his silence than to hear his shocking confession.
He left without so much as a word, and it’s like my heart mends itself, then rips open all over again at the thought. I’m a mess; bound to a monster not of my choosing. I’m only a senior in high school. Seventeen. I shouldn’t belong to anyone except myself.
As I stare blankly into the woods outside of Kingston House, I feel more than hear Brett come up behind me. His heat penetrates my clothes and warms my back, but instead of saying anything, I remain quiet, subdued. It’s all a confusing mess inside my head, and I don’t have the faintest clue how I should even begin to push my way out.
“I told you before the semester is out that you’d either be crying or begging to hang off my cock, you ignored my warning.” More tears drip from my bottom lashes, making hot trails of agony as they slide down my cheeks.
“Just leave me alone,” I softly murmur, choking back the emotions begging to seep through.
God, please let me die.
“I was being nice before, brat,” he growls. His body pushes mine against the glass, hard. His hands come up beside my face, fisting against the glass. “I will not be nice anymore. You are ours, and you will continue to be until we are through with you.”
I’m theirs? Oh, my God. I belong to all three of them, not just Brett. I should have known those other two sons of bitches had something to do with this.
“What about what I want?” I murmur, trembling.
He releases a sadistic chuckle at the same time a knock sounds on his door. Pressing his hips against my ass, I almost choke on the saliva collecting in my mouth, when I notice he’s as hard as stone against me. He’s getting off at my expense, and that infuriates me.
He growls right next to my ear, the reverberations in his chest vibrating me to my core. “You are nothing except what we make you. The sooner you get that through your head, the better off you’ll be.”
With that, he forcefully thrusts his hips forward and pushes off me. Making his way toward the door, he opens it with a flourish. By the reflection in the glass, I alre
ady know who it is before they even speak. Even if I didn’t have the help of the window, I’d know simply because of the way my body thrums with awareness.
“So, you explained things to her then?” Chaz asks with dark amusement.
Brett barks out a laugh. “Didn’t have to. Her father did that all on his own.”
“Her father?” Dorran pipes up, and I have the incessant need to spill all his dirty little secrets. Even if I don’t exactly know what those are yet, I know he’s hiding something. And if he’s hiding it from me, then he’s probably hiding it from his two friends, too.
Except, I don’t. I don’t even mutter a word as they all talk amongst themselves. The only thing that keeps replaying in my mind is the way my father looked at me when he told me my fate. There was no hurt or pain in his gaze, but embarrassment and shame. It’s like he didn’t have a choice in the matter, which is absurd. Everything we do in life is a choice, it’s up to everyone to make the right one.
He chose wrong.
How much is a soul worth, anyway? Ten million; twenty?
According to my father and Brett, my soul is only worth one. One measly million. If they’re as rich as I think they are, it’s a mere blip in their checkbooks. Their families can easily make up for them with their businesses. Which I don’t see why they would, because buying someone is wrong, immoral.
Something a rich snob, like Brett, would do. Or I should say, Brett, Chaz, and Dorran. Apparently, my new fucking owners.
“Let’s see what we’re working with.” He can’t possibly mean … “Strip, brat,” Brett says with such class and sophistication, you’d think he was appraising a piece of art and not someone’s body.
Out of the frying pan and into the pot, but it will not be me getting burned. I refuse to undress for any of them. I may have lost everything, maybe except for my friendship with Kamila, but I refuse to lose my dignity.
Never breaking my gaze from the trees, I release a sigh before answering, “Go to Hell; all of you. I am not undressing just because you say so. It takes a lot more than a transfer of money to own someone.”
Chaz’s reflection smirks back at me, causing me to gulp. “Oh, really?”
“Yes.”
“Dorran, a little help here,” is all I hear before my arms are being jerked behind my back. Chaz forcefully pulls me away from the window, turning, so we’re now facing Brett and Dorran. My eyes flash between the both of them. I see lust cloud over Brett’s eyes as he stands there, running his gaze all over my body. Dorran, on the other hand, can’t bring himself to look into my eyes. He can’t even bring himself to acknowledge my existence.
“Dorran!” Chaz snaps.
When Dorran’s eyes finally meet mine, it’s a mirror from yesterday. He’s pleading, yet his actions speak an entirely different tune. Moving past Brett, I struggle against Chaz’s hold while Dorran makes his way closer. My mind begs me to say something; to hopefully push through to whatever semblance of humanity they have, but instead, I stay quiet. I fight them with my stone-cold gaze and iron will.
“You don’t have to do this.”
There has to be a part deep inside of Dorran that knows this is wrong. Knowing him, the vulnerability I saw in his eyes yesterday was because of this very reason. He knew—they all did—that it would end this way. Only, they played with me. Made me think I had some say in the matter.
His eyes flick up to mine, then go over my shoulder to stare at Chaz. For a moment in time, I expect him to jerk me out of Chaz’s arms and into his. Honestly, I don’t really care what happens as long as this doesn’t. They can’t strip me and make me do their bidding.
Brett, Dorran, and Chaz have lived their entire lives with people revering them, while secretly, behind closed doors, they’re nothing but monsters in tailored clothing.
But just like yesterday, I watch him shut down in front of me. His eyes lose their shine, and a gritting hardness comes to rest in the form of a clenching jaw. His eyes glint with sadistic glee, like he actually enjoys this. He’s doing this to fit in with his friends, but he doesn’t have to. If he lets me go, I’ll accept him for what he is, flaws and all.
I’ll do that to save myself; fuck, I’ll do almost anything.
“No more talking,” he grits out, and without hesitation, raises his hands to the top of my button down. Grabbing it tightly, I plead with my eyes for him to stop—only to have him pull my shirt apart in the next second, buttons skittering across the floor as he bares me to their hungry eyes.
Cool air hits my chest, the abrupt change in temperature causes my stomach to suck in when I gasp. Dorran steps forward, crowding me, pushing the shirt off my shoulders. I’m too stunned to do anything except stare at him; too stunned to fight, move, or try to get free. Even when Chaz releases my arms and jerks my shirt the rest of the way off my body, I can’t do anything.
Tears prick my eyes; a gasping sob lodges in my throat as Chaz pushes me away from him. I’m stuck in the middle, and nowhere I turn is there freedom in sight. Before I can shake off the shock riddling my system, my bra is the next to go. With a few flicks of his hands, Chaz unclasps me, and Brett rips it from my body to toss it down on the floor. My arms immediately rise to cover myself, but that would be much too easy. Dorran and Brett each take a stance by my side, holding my arms down by my sides.
My nipples pebble instantly. Not from their actions, but from the cold caressing my freed breasts. Shame washes over me, because I know they will believe my body is reacting to them. That I want whatever they’re giving me, but that’s not true.
“Fuck, look at those perky tits,” Brett groans; his voice is full of grit and arousal.
Pressing himself up against me, his balmy breath coats the side of my face and neck. He’s breathing hard, his chest rising and falling rapidly. I clench my eyes shut tight when I feel his lips feather across the column of my neck, teasing, sucking, and his teeth nibbling on the corded muscle. A hand enveloping my right breast forces me to bite down on my lip hard enough to taste the coppery hints of blood.
“Please …” I cry out as my chin quivers with emotion.
“Mm, we like it when you beg,” Chaz growls.
Then there is a second set of lips on my neck, and hands crawling around my hips to trail over the flat plains of my stomach, one of them skating over the under swell of my breast. Chaz steps closer, digging his erection into my ass as his hand encompasses my breast and starts kneading.
I can’t breathe. It’s hard to think. I’m disgusted by the turn of events. I want to get away, to run far and as fast as I can away from them. I don’t want this; don’t want any of them.
A grunt slips between my lips when Brett bites a particularly sensitive spot. I try to pull away from them but can’t with their strength holding me at bay. They paw, kiss, and suck at me until I don’t know which way is up and which is down. I try to shake them off again, but searing pain races through me when Chaz tightens his grip on my breast. It’s a warning, and with it being three against one, I don’t have the backing to force them to get away from me.
I’ll have to take it until I can get out of here. Until I can slip into those woods and no one ever finds me again.
However, slowly it changes. What they're doing has a ripple of desire shooting all the way to my toes when Dorran tweaks my nipple. He rolls it between his forefinger and thumb, and I have to bite that much harder to force down the whimper clawing to set free.
“Stop,” I gasp out. “Stop, stop, stop.”
What’s wrong with me? I shouldn’t find anything they do to feel good.
As if they know my train of thought, Dorran and Brett press their hips into my side, so I feel all three of them at once. My lungs burn from misuse, and my mind wants nothing more than to fight my way out of this. Even while my body wars to melt against them, to just allow them to take me, I know I can’t.
I shouldn’t want this. I don’t. They can force my hand and take my body, but they’ll never get all of me.
&nb
sp; Chaz brings his lips from my neck and whispers in my ear, his words soft and encouraging. A beautiful lie if I ever saw one. “You belong to us, brat. Your voice may suggest, otherwise, but your body is too much of a wanton slut to object.”
CHAPTER 19
“Dinner will be here in a few.” Brett’s voice pulls me out of the fog I’m in, as I huddle on the end of his couch as far away from them as possible. “Make yourself presentable.”
Ever since they pulled my shirt and bra off and left me naked and ashamed, the guys went and did their own thing upstairs, ignoring me. Probably sucking each other’s cocks or something. Sick bastards.
Peering over my shoulder, I see him and the others coming down the stairs. Their actions are of relaxation and ease, like they didn’t just strip me of everything and touch my body against my will. Like they didn’t treat me as if I were nothing more than a toy for them to play with.
I pull my knees closer to my chest and make myself as small as possible. I turn my attention back toward the windows without a remark, getting lost in the way the trees sway back and forth. They seem so free, even if most are transplants here. It’s the principle of it. They have the freedom to bend and bow, making love to the wind as it caresses their branches.
“Did you hear me?” he asks, a low warning underlining his words.
If he’s trying to scare me, I hate to say it’s working. I’m absolutely petrified of them; terrified of what they will do to me. But that doesn’t mean I’ll show any of them my weakness. No, I’m already ashamed of becoming wet when they violated me. Ashamed of the fact my body rebelled against my mind in a such a scandalous manner.
Little Plaything: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Reighton Preparatory Academy Book 1) Page 12