by Gemma Weir
I turn to look at Taylor in the seat next to me. She seems oblivious, her cell in her hand, scrolling through some social media site. Didn’t she feel his displeasure at seeing her? Isn’t she bothered that he seemed almost desperate to send us away? “Sweetie, are you okay?”
She lifts her face from her screen and smiles at me. “I’m fine. Do you maybe want to find another club to go to?”
I look at her bewildered. “TayTay, are you okay with how that all went down with Park?”
She shrugs, “I don’t really understand why he wanted us to leave, but whatever, he’ll come see us in the morning and then everything will be perfect. He’s so hot, isn’t he? I mean he was cute back in high school, but now with all the tattoos and knowing he’s a biker, he totally has that sexy bad boy thing going on.”
My mouth falls open a little; surely she isn’t this oblivious? “Taylor, is that how you expected it to go down? He didn’t seem that excited to see you.”
Flashing a bright smile at me, she winks. “I don’t know. Maybe he has a girlfriend he has to get rid of or something. He was probably just shocked. His cock was hard when he was hugging me, so he must have been pretty happy to see me, if you know what I mean.”
I school my expression, not wanting to show the incredulity I’m sure would be clear on my face if I would allow it. Taylor seems to have interpreted their reunion completely differently to me. I saw an enthusiastic Taylor and a shell-shocked Park, but if he was hard for her, perhaps he was just genuinely overwhelmed and not panicked like I thought.
“God, I’m so glad we didn’t fuck in high school. He’s so much more perfect now anyway.”
“What?” I ask.
“Park’s my unicorn,” she says matter of factly.
“Your what?”
“He’s my unicorn. Park has always had a crush on me. He basically followed me round like a lost puppy for years pining for me, but I was with Derek. The last summer of high school, Derek and I broke up and I decided that as a graduation gift I was going to fuck Park. I think maybe he was in love with me or something, so what better gift to give him, than me. I mean he was hot and tall, and he had that accent. If it hadn’t been for Derek, I might have really gone for him. But anyway, I broke up with Derek because Park was always going on and on about how people should be faithful and blah, blah, blah. But anyway, we’d all arranged to go to this field party straight after school and Park had gone home to get changed, because I’d told him I wanted him to wear this shirt that he looked really hot in. I mean I waited for like, hours for him, but he never turned up. I called him, but he didn’t answer, and when I went to his house the next morning his mom said he’d gone.”
“Wow, he just left?”
“Yeah, he didn’t even come back for graduation and I never got to give him my gift.”
“Where did he go?”
“I don’t know,” she says as though it’s a ridiculous thing to have asked.
“Didn’t you try to find him?”
Taylor shrugs. “Well, I mean I emailed and called him a few times, but he never replied. Derek never liked him, and I didn’t want to cause arguments with him, so I just sort of forgot about Park.”
“But you hired a private investigator. Why would you do that now, ten years later?”
“Because he’s my unicorn,” Taylor says, obviously exasperated at my lack of understanding.
“Taylor, you haven’t seen this guy in years. Excuse me for not having any idea why the fuck you think he’s a unicorn.”
Taylor shakes her head at me. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“No, it really isn’t.”
“He’s my unicorn. I decided to fuck him and then he left before I got the chance. It’s why I’ve never been able to one hundred percent settle with Derek, because at the back of my mind I’ll always know there was one more guy I was supposed to have sex with. He’s my unicorn.”
Completely dumbfounded, I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. I try to talk again, but snap my mouth shut without saying a word, because really how the hell do I even respond to that? Turning to face the driver, I stare at the cars in front of us for a moment as I try to formulate a response to Taylor’s declaration.
“Ro-Ro,” Taylor says.
I hold up my forefinger, motioning for her to give me a minute and surprisingly she settles back into the seat and looks at her cell again.
I’m not sure how much time passes while I process, but finally I turn my body as much as I can without removing my seatbelt. “Okay, so let me get this right. You think your childhood best friend Park is why you can’t stop yourself from cheating on Derek?”
Her beautiful face lights up and a wide smile spreads across her lips. “Exactly. I mean it’s obvious really. Every time Derek and I argue, I go out and find a guy to fuck, but afterwards I never feel like it was the right guy. So the next time we argue I go and search for a different one. My whole life I’ve never decided to fuck a guy and then not gone through with it, except for with Park. So really when you think about it, it’s obvious that he’s my unicorn. All I need to do is find him and fuck him, and then I can marry Derek and I won’t want to cheat on him anymore.”
Lifting my hands to my face, I place my palms flat against my cheeks and just stare at Taylor. “Are you serious right now? You told me you missed your best friend and that’s why you lied to me and dragged me all the way to Texas to track him down. Now you’re saying that really you just wanted to screw the one guy who got away? What the hell, Taylor?”
Sighing, she rolls her eyes at me dramatically. “Oh my god, Rosie, stop being such a drama queen. So I told a few white lies. This trip is hardly a hardship for you. You’re living it up in a gorgeous suite, in a beautiful hotel, having full spa days, all of which I’ve paid for by the way. And wow, it’s not like I’ve never done anything like this for you.”
“When have you ever done anything like this for me, Taylor? When have I ever lied to you, or dragged you along on a wild goose chase so you can screw another random stranger?”
“Rosie, you’re being a really shitty friend right now.”
I feel my eyes widen and I bite my lip to stop myself from snapping at her. Eric always says that I hide from confrontation and he’s right; arguing makes me cry and I don’t want to look weak by bursting into tears right now. “Maybe when we get back to the hotel, I should get my own room,” I say, my voice small.
“Oh for god’s sake, Rosie, I’m so tired of all your needy bullshit. Derek is always telling me I need to stop letting you be so reliant on me; that I need to give you boundaries in our friendship and I think he’s right.”
My mouth falls open and I just stare at her. “Wow,” I say.
“Oh whatever,” Taylor scoffs, turning her back on me and instead concentrating on her cellphone.
Shocked and a little heartbroken, I turn back to face the front and stare out of the windshield. Moments later we reach the hotel and when the driver opens the door for me, I rush from the car, through the lobby, and into a waiting elevator. When I reach the door to our suite, I pull out my keycard and open the door. Before Taylor has even made it to the room, I have all of my belongings packed and I’m wheeling my case behind me. She enters the room just as I’m laying my keycard on the coffee table. Her eyes widen when they take in my luggage, but I ignore her and walk away, my head held high and my tears barely restrained.
“Come on, motherfucker, stop wasting time. The quicker we get up there, the quicker you can get this shit over and done with.” Smoke chides, shoving me in the shoulder.
My pulse is hammering and I feel sick. I never planned to see Taylor again. I’ve loved her for most of my life, but I hadn’t realized how childish a love it had been until I’d seen her yesterday. I’d thought that not being able to have her meant I’d never love anyone else and I’d festered in my teenage obsession and let it consume me.
I know that I should tell Taylor the truth; that I should explain what I heard all t
hose years ago, but I don’t know if I can. When I told Smoke yesterday, it had been the first time I’d ever spoken those words aloud. Taylor is my sister—or more accurately, my half-sister—but regardless, however our relationship is entwined, we still share DNA.
The girl I’ve loved for as long as I can remember is my fucking sister. Just thinking the words in my head makes me feel sick to my stomach. What kind of fucked-up bastard must I be to lust and fantasize about my sibling?
I remember the day I found out like it was yesterday, how could I ever forget?
age 18
“Holy fuck! By the end of the night Taylor is going to be mine. I’ve watched her with other guys for years, but she’s finally single and the time is right. I’m gonna tell her that I love her and then we’re going to go away to college together,” I say to Andy.
Andy holds out his fist and I bump it, a huge smile on my face.
“Dude, you sound like a pussy. But she’s so fucking hot and I bet she fucks like a porn star too. Your dick is gonna get so wet tonight.”
Shoving at his shoulder a little harder than was probably needed, I scowl at him. “Don’t fucking talk about her like that.”
He holds up one hand in a gesture of surrender, rubbing at his shoulder with the other. “My bad, dude. I forgot she’s the one,” he says with an eye roll.
“I need to go get changed. I’m meeting her at the party in like an hour-and-a-half and she wants me to wear this shirt. She thinks I look hot in it or something.”
“Fuck, dude, she’s not even your girlfriend yet and you’re already whipped,” Andy says, making the whip gesture with his hand.
“Fuck you,” I say, slapping him around the back of the head as I walk past him and toward my two month old Mercedes, an early graduation gift from my parents. Opening the door, I slide into the soft black leather seat and fire the engine to life.
Driving away from the school parking lot, I cruise along the highway: music loud, one hand on the wheel, the other resting out of the window. Smiling and eager to get to Taylor, I accelerate and pull onto our street a few minutes later. We live in a gated community and I wave at the guard at the gates as he gestures me through. The houses here are all huge monstrosities, ugly and ostentatious in an attempt to appear richer than all our neighbors who are doing the exact same thing.
This town, this life, is nothing like my home in Ireland. Every summer since we moved, I’ve gone home to Dublin to visit with my grandparents and their home could not be any more different than the McMansion we live in. My grandparents’ modest three bed semi in Dublin is warm and homely and comfortable. My mom’s parents are working class but live a comfortable life in a pretty suburb. I miss the simplicity of Ireland. With my grandparents there’s no fakeness, no keeping up appearances. LA is a festering hot bed of false platitudes and ostentatious gestures.
Pulling into our driveway, I stare up at the ugly house my father adores. It’s all ultra-modern lines and curves, hideous but outrageously expensive, and all my father’s friends and colleagues know it. This house is a symbol of his success; in his eyes it’s perfect. Maybe that’s why I hate the place so much.
My car beeps as I lock it, but I don’t need to secure it. The only people who have access to this street are the residents and their approved guests. There are prisons with less security than Mulholland View Falls. Opening the front door, I go straight up the stairs to my room. I’m gonna shower then dress in the shirt Taylor likes so much. I have no idea why it matters what I wear, but if this is what she likes me in, I’m happy to oblige her.
Dragging my t-shirt over my head, I walk into my bathroom and turn on the shower. My dad went all out when he renovated the bathrooms earlier this year, so my new temperature control shower is at the perfect 38 degrees within seconds. Stripping off my sweatpants, socks, and underwear, I step into the stream of water and exhale slowly as the heat soothes my tense muscles.
Tonight’s the night. Finally, after years of wanting and waiting, she’s actually going to be mine. I can’t wait to tell her, to see her perfect face when I let her know I love her and that I want us to be together. A smile covers my face as I rub shower gel across my skin and shampoo into my hair. Most people have to wait until they’re in their twenties or thirties to find their soulmate and I found mine at five. An image of her gorgeous face pops into my mind. Her long blonde hair; her full, perky tits, always peeking out of her shirt; her tight ass encased in denim.
Fuck, my cock’s hard. I can’t see her like this, I’m a loaded gun. Tonight is gonna be the first time we make love and there’s no way I’m going to be a fucking two pump chump. I need to pre-game. Taking my cock in my hand, I grip it tightly, stroking my fist up and down my rock-hard length. The warm water gushes over me, making my hand glide up and down with ease. The first few strokes send a shiver up my spine and I grip tighter, gradually moving my fist quicker. An image of Taylor, her eyes hooded, her tits full, her nipples rosy-pink and begging to be sucked fills my mind and then it’s no longer my hand wrapped around my dick, it’s hers. I imagine her soaking wet, her lips parted, lust filling her eyes as she sinks to her knees in front of me and takes me into her mouth. Her eyes never leave mine as she slowly licks all the way up my dick, before she swallows me whole, taking me all the way to the back of her throat. The image fades and is replaced with her spread wide on the counter, her fingers at her pussy, holding her folds apart waiting for me to cover her cunt in my cum.
That’s it, that’s all I can take. My balls tighten and my muscles tense and I have to brace my free hand against the wall to keep myself upright as stream after stream of cum pulses into the running water. Panting hard, I force my eyes open. The bathroom light feels too bright, the water punishingly hot against my lust-soaked skin. With an audible exhale, I turn off the water and reach for a towel, smiling the whole time.
I dress quickly, grabbing my car keys and cellphone and rush eagerly down the stairs. When I reach the foyer, loud and angry voices make me pause. I recognize my dad’s voice. I hadn’t noticed his car, but then he usually parks in the garage. Shaking my head, I walk toward the front door, but a shrill female voice stops me in my tracks.
It’s not my mom’s voice. Her Irish accent isn’t as strong as mine, but it’s still there, especially when she’s angry. This voice isn’t hers; so who the fuck is it?
My feet turn and I head toward my dad’s office without having made a conscious decision to do so. The voices get louder and angrier the closer I get, and a trickle of apprehension moves up my spine.
“It’s right there in black and white, David. How much more proof do you need?” The woman screams.
“This is bullshit. Why the fuck are you doing this now?” My father replies.
A few more strides brings me right outside his office. The door is ajar and I can see my father pacing behind his huge mahogany desk. He pauses, planting the palms of his hands against the wood and scowls. I recognize his expression; the same face has been aimed at me more times than I can remember. It’s his ‘you’re not doing what I want’ face.
I can’t see the woman, but when she speaks her voice is familiar. “You know why I’m doing this. She’s your daughter. You can’t deny it forever; especially now.”
“Fuck you, Diane. I don’t care what that piece of paper says. She’s nothing to do with me. I wasn’t interested when you turned up on my doorstep pregnant and I’m not interested now.”
Diane. My mind whirls. I know why she sounded familiar. It’s because she is familiar, because I’ve known her for thirteen years. Her voice is full of steely determination. On the hundreds of times I’ve spoken to her over the years she’s never sounded like this before, her normally soft, cajoling tone is nothing like the unwavering resolve I can hear in her every word.
I creep around the door, trying not to be noticed, but needing to actually see what my mind has already confirmed. All of the breath stills in my lungs when the woman comes into view. She’s emotionless, sittin
g calmly in the chair in front of his desk, her legs crossed primly, her feet clad in no doubt very expensive shoes. Her hands are clenched together in her lap, her skin white with the pressure of the fists she’s making—the only hint that she’s not as calm and unaffected as she appears. Her blonde hair is neatly pinned back in a smooth twist and her features are so similar to her daughter’s.
I think a whimper must escape my throat. She immediately looks up and then there’s no denying it, because in front of me is Taylor’s mom.
Something flickers across her expression—triumph. Did she want me to hear this? Did she want me to know that my dad cheated on my mom?
“Park,” Diane calls.
I take a step back, unprepared to deal with this. Today is a great day. The day I finally get my girl. I don’t want to hear what either of them have to say. Taking another step away, my back hits the wall and I stumble.
“Parker,” my father calls, his voice grim and stern. “Get in here.”
I want to scream at him, at her. I want to turn and run away. But it won’t matter where I go, I can never un-hear those words. The truth of them sinks in as I step through the threshold of my father’s office. I scan both my father and Taylor’s mom’s faces. His is hard and hers is jubilant. Both look poised to speak, but I get there first.
“She’s my sister?”
Present Day.
Steeling my spine, I inhale a deep breath and step into the hotel foyer. The gleaming, black marble tiles shimmer beneath my feet, and the stench of too much money exudes from every inch of the place. I’ve never missed the opulence and excess of the world I grew up in, and today like never before, demonstrates that I didn’t belong in that world in the first place.