“Touch me once more and I’ll break your fucking wrist. I hid you in my house because I’m a fucking dumb junkie who thought Connor was his friend. You were nothing more than an easy lay—note I said nothing about a good lay. If I’d known what you two were responsible for, I would’ve killed you on the fucking spot, no questions asked.” I raise my eyebrows at her and she turns white.
Maddi always said I’d regret fucking Sherri one day, and as per usual, my bloody twin’s right. At this moment, I want to dip my dick in bleach and scrub it until it bleeds.
“She’s my twin. Did you honestly think I’d be okay with the shit you two pulled?”
She sneers at me, “Like you care. She’s a fucking bossy, snobby ass bitch. She needed to be brought down a peg...or three. It was fun knowing what was coming her way.”
My temper’s been held under tight control all day. I’ve needed to control it in order to achieve what I had to, but this cunt, she doesn’t get the luxury of a reined in Benjamin Patrick O’Brien. She’s pushed the wrong button.
The Benji O’Brien that most people know is an easy-going, smart-mouthed larrikin. That’s an act; always has been. Underneath it all, I’m more like my father than I’ve ever cared to admit. The day my mother died; the day I watched the love in Dad’s eyes flicker out, and I saw my ten-year old sister try to become a woman and a mother overnight, a fire lit in my veins. It’s simmered under the surface ever since, coming out to play every now and then, when I’ve been unable to keep my desire to inflict hurt under wraps.
I grit my teeth, malice taking residence in my expression. Sherri manages to turn a shade lighter than white and she begins to back away from me.
We all have a soft spot. That one little area that no one can get away with touching without consequences. When I want to be a smartass, I’m a fucking expert at identifying people’s soft spots and pressing them—repeatedly if necessary—because it amuses me to watch them react. After the shit I’ve pulled and the pain she’s suffered because of me, you wouldn’t think so, but my twin is my soft spot.
Sherri didn’t just touch my soft spot; she kicked it in the teeth and brought it roaring back to life.
Advancing on the shaking, retreating bitch in front of me, I grab her by the throat and pin her against the side of the house. She scratches at my hand, trying to dislodge my hold, but I ignore her. Darkness has fallen while I was dealing with Dad and Thomas Taylor. That, and the six-foot tall hedge that hides the front of the house from prying eyes, gives me carte blanche with the woman I’m currently choking.
“It was fun knowing what was coming her way?” I ask her, not expecting an answer. It’s a rhetorical question, designed to remind her why she’s in the position she’s in.
I jam my thigh between her legs, right against her pussy and lift her up the wall so her feet aren’t touching the ground. She’s the last woman I want to touch, yet in order to teach her the lesson she needs to learn, I push aside my revulsion.
Letting go of her neck, and using my leg to hold her squirming form in the air, I use both hands to rip her top open—straight down the middle, baring her fake breasts. Letting her feel what it’s like to be exposed against her wishes. Pinching her nipples, I twist them viciously, before pulling my arm back and punching her in the ribs. Twice.
She shrieks, loud enough to hurt my ears. I jam my hand over her mouth, pushing her head back so it thuds against the concrete wall of the house. Tears flow down her cheeks from the pain of the impact...and fear. I can see fear in her eyes, and it makes my chest expand with feelings of power and potency.
“It’s not so fucking funny now, is it?” I snarl. She shakes her head, and I can see hope that I’m finished with her shining brightly in her eyes.
No such luck. I’ve never let this side of me free, and I don’t plan of putting him back on his lease until I’m finished with her.
Removing my leg, I catch her as she tumbles back to the ground. Ripping her short skirt from her body, her lace thong follows quickly with one harsh tug. She’s completely exposed—scared, and trembling. Exactly how I remember my sister being the night I found her after being beaten and raped by Brendan.
I throw her away from me, grinning when she hits the ground with a satisfying thump.
“Benji, stop please,” she begs through her tears as I stalk toward her. The words have no effect on me. I’m on autopilot, determined to make her pay.
“No.” I spit at her. “Do you think he stopped because she begged?”
Sherri shakes her head at me, her tears gaining pace.
“He didn’t. He enjoyed it when she begged. It made it more fun for him.”
Grabbing a handful of her bleached hair, I drag her back to her feet and throw her against the building. Punching her in the stomach, I lift her head when she tries to slump to the ground. She screams with pain and claws at my hand.
Pulling her upright, I lean down and whisper in her ear, “Did you know he raped her? Repeatedly. For months. That’s who you plotted to send my sister back to. A fucking rapist. I should let you feel exactly how she felt—”
“No, please. I didn’t know,” she screams at me as loudly as her bruised throat will let her. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Bullshit. You’re not sorry about getting Maddi hurt again by Brendan. You’re not sorry about the part you played in any of this. You’re sorry that you’re finally getting a small fucking taste of what she felt.”
Letting go of her hair, I toss her to the ground and stand over her with a leg on either side of her body. Pulling my gun from the waistband of my jeans, I point it at her evil head.
Right between her eyes.
“You couldn’t pay me to touch you ever again. Be thankful I’m not a fucking rapist, so you’ll never know how that feels. Apart from that, I hope you’ve learned your lesson.”
“I did. I did.”
Shaking my head at her lies, a grin breaks free when her fear becomes more tangible. The dark side of my soul, the part I’ve kept hidden since I was a kid, is basking in the waves of fear pulsating from her. She knows I don’t believe her and it’s adding to her panic.
Clicking the safety off my gun, I cock it in her direction.
“Bitches like you never learn. You just keep running around causing damage until someone fucking finishes you. Well, it looks like it might be my lucky day, since the task of finishing you has fallen to me.”
As I say the words, a split second of doubt crosses my mind, making me hesitate. Visions of Maddi’s blue eyes float in front of my face, her spirit clearly fractured, the pain that’s always present since she was attacked unmistakable. My resolve returns, bolstered by thoughts of how Lacey will feel if I let this whore escape. The two most important women in my life need me to do this.
“Benji.” Sherri tries one more time to plead with me.
“I hope you burn in hell,” I spit my final words at her, before I pull the trigger and put a bullet in the middle of her forehead. Her whole body jerks once. She gurgles and then falls still. The resonating boom from the discharge of my gun echoes in my head.
Fuck. No silencer. In classic Benji style, I’ve just fucked up again. I stick the almost too-hot-to-touch muzzle down the back of my pants and pull my shirt over it. Frantic with worry, I pivot ready to run down the front steps and around the corner to my car.
“Give me the gun,” Dad’s gruff voice jolts me to a stop.
I spin back to face him. Ignoring him, I begin backing away.
“If you don’t trust me to get rid of the gun, at least trust me enough to get rid of her.”
I look between him and Sherri’s body. I don’t have a choice. If someone heard the gun go off, the cops could already be on their way. I need to get the fuck out of here.
Meeting his eyes, I’m shocked as shit to find concern and love in their depths. Closing the distance between us, he holds his hand out for the gun. I’ll never be able to explain why, but I pull it from my waistband and hand it to h
im.
“You need help, my son. Don’t end up like me. Admit you’re fucked up and get it fixed. Let all the hatred, the pig-headedness, the anger die with me. You’re right. I checked out when God took my Alanah from me. I let down our children and that’s my sin to bear. Don’t repeat my mistakes.”
The lump in my throat makes it impossible to speak. Not that I can think of anything to say to him anyway. My brain stopped functioning the moment I pulled the trigger.
Shaking my head to clear it, I turn my back to him and jog down the steps.
“I love you, Benji. I love all five of my children. I always have.”
The muscle under my right eye begins to twitch when I hear his words. I keep running, determined that the tears that are trying to break free will stay contained. I swallow my feelings as much as I can. My teeth grind together, the muscle in my jaw becoming tight and sore as Dad’s words replay in my head.
He loves me. How? He barely fucking knows me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
BENJI
Present Day
It’s a sickness. I know it is. Not that I care because, fuck, right now I’m embracing it.
After killing Sherri and leaving the last person I should trust to deal with her, I came home to find Lacey gone and a fucking hole in the brick of crystal meth that I left her alone with. To say the last fourteen days have been hellish is an understatement. She refuses to answer my calls or texts about her relapse so I’ve resorted to stalking her.
Following her around on a daily basis has become my new addiction. I wake early, shower, and then drive to her house. So far she’s only gone to her parents, the grocery store, and on one occasion, I think she had a job interview at an old folk’s home because she spent an hour there before leaving, looking upset.
If it wasn’t for Maddi and JJ’s constant nagging to give Lacey some space, I would’ve knocked her fucking front door down and made her talk to me by now. Why Maddi’s suddenly on her side, I haven’t a fucking clue. The last time they were together, she punched her in the face—now they’re friends again, and have even dragged JJ into their meddlesome coven.
Goddamn women and their never-ending rollercoaster ride of emotions.
The sound of Lacey’s garage door screeching as it opens pulls me from my thoughts of crazy-ass women and the fact that I’ll never, ever fucking understand them.
Normally, I park in full view of her house, hoping that seeing me might make her stop and talk, but fear of copping another bloody lecture from Maddi, made me hide my car out of sight today. Lacey speeds off in her little pink hatchback, determination written on her pretty face. She looks oblivious to her surroundings so I take the opportunity to pull out of my hiding spot and tail her.
Expecting another trip to her parents’ house, I’m stunned when she pulls onto the motorway and heads for one of the seedier areas of Brisbane. My gut cramps, tightening like I’ve just run a new PB for the five K when I cotton on to where she’s going.
The Mavericks Clubhouse.
Relief takes hold after she drives past their dingy-looking setup and continues on down the road. It’s short-lived when she comes to a sudden stop and maneuvers her car into the skinny driveway that leads to Cam’s unkempt house. I can’t follow her down the track without her seeing me, so I park haphazardly on the curb and jog after her, as fast as my knee will let me, through the overgrown garden.
Coming to a skidding stop when I almost run into her car, I crouch down behind it. With my heart trying to beat out of my chest, I watch through disbelieving eyes as Lacey gracefully slips from the driver’s seat of her car carrying an oversized handbag, and makes her way over to Cam. He’s waiting in the doorway of his home, wearing only a pair of jeans that hang low on his hips, and a wide grin of welcome on his fucking face.
“Lacey, baby. I’ve been looking forward to today,” he greets her, stepping onto the front porch.
“So have I,” the woman I’ve fallen for replies without hesitation. When she stops in front of him, Cam sweeps her into a bear hug. He lifts her off the ground, swinging her in a circle once, before putting her back on her feet.
Lacey slaps his bare chest, but doesn’t say anything about him touching her. It’s killing me to stay hidden—to keep quiet—when all I want to do is force her into her car and tear strips off her for being here.
“Let’s go make me some fucking money,” Cam laughs. The sound makes me want to take a running jump at him and knock him on his ass. “Don’t look so stressed. It’s going to be fun.”
Lacey shakes her head, and replies with an edge to her voice. “You’re getting a bit ahead of yourself.”
She thrusts the huge bag she’s carrying in his direction, hitting him in the chest with it. The fleeting look of surprise that crosses Cam’s face alleviates some of my growing suspicions.
“We’ll see, baby,” he smirks at her. My hands curl into fists when he winks at Lacey, and I bite the inside of my cheek to stop from revealing myself. “What’s lover boy had to say about our little situation? Bet it’s not sitting well knowing that a fucking O’Brien’s playing second fiddle, or should I say second dick, to a Maverick?”
“He’s not your concern, Cam. He doesn’t need to know anything.”
No fucking way! Blood rushes to my head, making it pound. I can’t believe my fucking ears. I was worried this meeting was about drugs, not a sneaky fuck behind my back.
My thoughts spin. I can’t make head nor tail of my feelings.
I want to storm over there and kiss the living daylights out of her—prove that I’m the man for her, not Cam.
I want to run my fist through Cam’s ugly face for daring to think he can touch my woman.
Most of all, I want to go back to this morning and choose to stay home like Maddi begged me. Then I’d have no idea what Lacey’s doing, and I wouldn’t be standing here feeling like my heart’s been ripped out of my chest.
The slamming of the front door takes away my opportunity to confront them. Looking at the empty porch, I push down the hurt I’m feeling, and concentrate on stoking my anger.
Did I honestly think I deserved a happy ending with Lacey? I’m the fuck-up of my family, the one who gets everyone hurt, as if God’s going to grant me my wish? I was a fucking idiot for handing my heart to her anyway. We got together through necessity, to fill the hole we were both stuck in; it’s on my head that I was stupid to make it into something deeper. She’s never said a word about exclusivity...or love.
I’m a fucking fool.
Fury. At Lacey. At Cam. At myself. Hell, at the fucking universe in its entirety, consumes me. Embracing it, I stand, tall and strong, refusing to be broken.
Fuck feeling.
Fuck love.
Fuck everything.
Lashing out, I kick the closest mirror off Lacey’s car and make my way back to my vehicle. Part of me wants to kick down the door to the house instead of walking away, but my pride won’t let me. I refuse to chase a woman who doesn’t want me. There’s plenty more where she came from. The thought is hollow and does little to settle my feeling of impotency...or the rage pulsing in every inch of my body. The rage that’s quickly morphing into something bigger, something stronger, something reminiscent of hatred.
Dad’s words about letting go of the hatred return unbidden to my mind. I take a split second to examine his sentiment, finally grasping what he meant. This is going to eat me alive if I let it.
I have a decision to make. Do I continue on my current path of seeking redemption for my fuck-ups and the hurt I’ve caused? Or do I let what Lacey’s done to me fester into a hurt that takes on a life of its own and colors everything in my life for eternity?
Like Dad did with Mom’s death...
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
LACEY
Present Day
“Lacey! Open the fucking door.” Kid sounds urgent.
He pounds on my door again. From my spot curled into a ball on my couch, I pray that the darkness
of my house will fool him into thinking that I’m not home. I can’t deal with anything else right now. I need tonight to myself to absorb what I did today, before pouring my energy into fixing everything with Benji tomorrow.
“I know you’re in there. Maddi told me to get you,” he yells.
Goddamn it. Rolling off the couch, I’m almost to my feet when the sound of glass breaking fills the silence and my front door swings open a moment later. Dragging in a deep breath through my nose, I storm toward Kid with my lips pressed together tight and my hands on my hips.
“Why the hell did you do that?” I point at the broken pane of glass in my front door. “I was coming.”
“If you’d answer your fucking phone, I wouldn’t be here at all. If you answered me when I was knocking, I wouldn’t have broken in.”
Narrowing my eyes at the annoyingly logical man standing in front of me, I change the subject.
“What’s so serious that it couldn’t wait until tomorrow? I told Maddi I needed tonight to myself.”
“Benji saw you at Cam’s house. He’s lost his shit.”
My stomach twists and flips, and dread fills me. With jelly legs, I make my way back to my couch and fall onto it. “I checked the whole way. I was positive he didn’t follow me. That’s why I went through with it.”
“Well he did.” Kid replies, his worry clear to see. “He got off his head afterward, but he’s had some sort of breakdown and called Maddi to come over and stop him from doing any more. She’s heading there now. She’s taken JJ in case she needs any medical assistance and she sent me here to give you a heads up in case she needs you to come over and explain anything she can’t. We’re to wait for her to phone.”
My worry increases, and I drop my head into my hands. “That’s a stupid move by Maddi. JJ’s too close to having the baby.”
Kid walks over to one of my armchairs and drags it until it’s facing me. Taking a seat in it, he shrugs off my assessment of Maddi’s decision with a wry grin. “I should rephrase that. JJ sat her ass in Maddi’s car and refused to get out until Maddi agreed she could come along. You know what she’s been like with Benji since his overdose.”
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