Corrupt

by Penelope Douglas

  Damon laughed, standing up and smoothing down his black jacket. “It was a joke,” he grumbled. “You really think I need to rape women?”

  Kai stood up, slipping the bag into his breast pocket. “Well, you were in jail.”

  “Oh, Jesus,” I breathed out, running my hand through my hair. “What the fuck is the matter with you?” I stared hard at Kai as Damon turned on him, as well, his jaw flexing and his black eyes ready to rip him apart.

  But Kai didn’t back down. They stood head to head, both of them the same height, as they glared at each other.

  “I didn’t rape her,” Damon gritted out.

  I shook my head. Why the hell would Kai take a shot like that?

  “We know that,” I answered for Kai, pushing Damon back.

  The girl had been underage, and Damon had been nineteen. He shouldn’t have done it, but he hadn’t forced her, either.

  Unfortunately, the law believed differently. Minors couldn’t consent to anything, and Damon had simply fucked up. But it wasn’t rape.

  Kai stared at Damon and then faltered, dropping his eyes and taking shallow breaths. “Sorry,” he said under his breath. “I’m just on edge.”

  I was glad he’d noticed.

  “Good. Use it tonight,” I said, hooking an arm around his neck and bringing him in. “Your nightmare is over. Hers is just starting.”

  THE HOT SPRAY OF THE SHOWER cascaded over my shoulders and back, and I closed my eyes, trying to drown out all the noise of the other players in the locker room.

  I last few days had sucked. I’d done everything I could to stay away from Delcour, unless it was to sleep, but it had been hard. I didn’t want to be anywhere else.

  The mother was taken care of, and it wouldn’t be long before Rika noticed, but the run-in at Hunter-Bailey earlier that day had thrown me off. I knew I needed to keep my distance for now.

  The one thing I’d learned about what it took to be strong was recognizing and acknowledging any weakness and then making adjustments. I couldn’t be near her.

  Not yet.

  When I went off to college, it wasn’t that hard. Out of sight, out of mind. Or, at least, out of the forefront of my mind.

  But knowing I could run into her at any time now, look down and see her in her apartment, catch her eyes as we passed in the lobby…I didn’t plan on what that would be like to see her every day. Having her close was entirely too tempting.

  She wasn’t sixteen anymore, and the fight I put up then to restrain myself was no longer necessary. She was a woman, no matter the nervous eyes, trembling lips, and tough little act she displayed. I could barely wait.

  She was only a floor a way, and I had the key to her apartment burning a hole in my pocket. I needed her on her hands and knees as I took whatever I wanted, whenever and however hard I wanted it. I was going crazy.

  “Shit.”

  I could feel my dick hardening, and I dropped my eyes, seeing it standing straight out and ready.

  Goddammit. I blew out a sigh and shut the shower off, thankful that I was in here alone.

  There were several players loitering around the locker room, one of the assistant coaches having scheduled special drills with a few of us today, but I’d taken my time in the shower, in no hurry to get home.

  Wrapping a towel around my waist, I grabbed a second one and dried off my chest and arms as I walked for my locker. Seeing a few other players standing around and still feeling my dick hard, I placed the towel in front me, not wanting any sideways glances.

  Digging into my shelves, I pulled out my phone, seeing a few texts from the guys. Since Rika’s mother was gone, they were ready for stage two.

  I tossed my towel down and slipped on my boxer briefs and jeans and then grabbed my watch, fastening it to my wrist.

  My phone started ringing. I picked it up, seeing the name on the screen.

  I steeled my jaw, annoyed. Talking to my brother always pissed me off. However, he rarely called, so curiosity nipped at me. I slid my finger over the screen, answering it.

  “Trevor,” I said, holding the phone to my ear.

  “You know, Michael…” he started, not even saying “hello.” “I always thought this brotherly connection you and I were supposed to have would eventually form.”

  I narrowed my eyes, staring ahead at nothing as I listened.

  “I thought, maybe when I grew up, we’d have more in common or we’d speak to each other in more than two word sentences,” he went on. “I used to try to blame it on you. You were cold and distant, and you never gave us a chance to be brothers.”

  I gripped the phone in my hand, standing frozen. The voices of the players around me faded.

  “But then you know what?” he asked, a sharp edge to his voice. “When I was about sixteen I realized something. It wasn’t your fault. I honestly hated you as much as you hated me. For the same…single…reason.”

  I clenched my teeth, lifting my chin.

  “Her.”

  “Her?” I fished.

  “You know who I’m talking about,” he stated. “She always had her eyes on you, wanting you.”

  I sneered, shaking my head. “Trevor, your girlfriend is your issue.”

  Not that she was his girlfriend anymore—I’d heard about the break-up—but I liked thinking of her as his. It would make all of this so much sweeter.

  “But that’s not true, is it?” he replied. “Because when I was a teenager I realized it wasn’t just her. It was you, too.”

  I glared ahead.

  “You wanted her,” he insisted, “and you hated that I was always around, and you definitely hated that she was meant for me. You couldn’t be my brother, because I had the one thing you wanted,” he paused and then continued, “And I hated you, because the one thing I had, wanted you instead.”

  My heart started drumming harder.

  “So when did it start?” he asked, his tone causal while my stomach knotted. “When we were kids? When her body filled out, and you saw how fucking hot she was? Or maybe…it was when I told you last year how her cunt was the tightest thing I’d ever felt?”

  I squeezed the phone in my hand.

  “No matter what…” he taunted, “I’ll always have that on you.”

  I curled my fist, every bone in my hand aching.

  “So now that you got her to Delcour,” he went on, “finally all to yourself, and you do to her whatever it is you have planned, remember that I will get her back, and it will be me who puts a ring on her finger and keeps her forever.”

  “You think that hurts me?” I bit out.

  “It won’t be you I’m trying to hurt,” he threw back. “If that slut spreads her legs for you, I will make sure marrying me will be the nightmare of her life.”

  Three Years Ago

  TREVOR HADN’T SPOKEN TO ME since he’d brought me home from the catacombs. He’d been an asshole in the car, too, and the only reason I’d left with him was because I was afraid he’d tell my mom.

  Or worse. Tell Mrs. Crist and get Michael into trouble.

  Michael. I still felt the heat on the hand he’d held today. I stood in the Crist kitchen, dishing spoonfuls of food onto a plate, playing over the afternoon in my head. Had he really meant all those things he’d said today? What would’ve happened if Trevor hadn’t come in?

  I blew out a long breath, heat stirring low in my belly. What was going to happen now? Would he finish what he’d started?

  The Vengeful One by Disturbed echoed through the house, probably coming from the indoor basketball court where I knew Will, Damon, Kai, and Michael were all goofing off, playing ball. It was already dark, and soon, they’d be heading out for the night.

  I heard my phone vibrate, and I glanced at it laying on the counter, seeing Mom on the screen.

  “Hey,” I answered, wrapping tin foil around a plate of food Mrs. Crist insisted I take to my mother when I ate here.

  “Hey, sweetie,” she chirped, trying to sound energetic. I knew she was anyth
ing but, however, she tried to put up a good front for me. Between the tranquilizers that kept her numb and the fact that she almost never left the house, I knew the guilt that weighed on her was starting to exceed the depression.

  “I’ll be home soon,” I told her, nodding a thanks to Mrs. Haynes, the Crists’ cook and setting the plate down on the counter as I left the kitchen. “Are you up for a movie tonight? We could re-watch Thor again. I know you like his hammer.”

  “Rika!”

  I snorted, walking into the dining room and seeing the table already set for dinner. “Well, then pick a new movie to download,” I suggested. “We still haven’t eaten over here yet, but as soon as we’re done I’ll change my clothes and head back home. I’m bringing you a plate.”

  Even though I knew she’d barely eat any of it. Her appetite barely existed anymore.

  Trevor had dropped me off at home earlier this afternoon, but after I’d checked on my mom, I’d trailed back down the road to the Crists for dinner. My mother was always welcome, of course, but it was only me who ever joined them. No one wanted me eating alone, so my mom, out of guilt, allowed me to have meals here for some conversation and laughter. The Crists could give me what she couldn’t.

  Or what she refused to give me.

  Over time, though, my need to be here became stronger. More than just for dinner or to play video games with Trevor growing up.

  It was for the distant sound of a basketball thumping against a floor somewhere in the house or the way my body would hum and every hair would stand on end when he walked into a room. I just liked being here if he was here, despite Trevor’s growing possessiveness.

  I heard my mother sigh as I walked up to the mirror hanging on the wall.

  “I’m fine,” she insisted. “You don’t need to bring a plate tonight. Go out with your friends. Please.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but then the dull beat of the music in the house suddenly died, and I jerked my head to the doorway of the dining room, hearing voices and laughter coming from somewhere in the house, getting closer.

  I glanced in the mirror, fixing the collar of my school uniform, making sure my scar was mostly hidden.

  “I don’t want to go out,” I said, heading to the table and sitting down.

  “I want you to go out.”

  Leaning over the table, I grabbed a roll and put it on my plate before the boys took them all. “Mom—” I started to argue.

  But she cut me off. “No,” she said, sounding unusually stern. “It’s Friday night. Go have some fun. I’ll be fine.”

  “But…” I trailed off, shaking my head. Was this her overcompensating or something? She knew damn well I went out, just maybe not as much as she would like.

  “Fine,” I drawled. “I’ll call Noah and see…” But then I stopped, hearing thunder roll down the hallway.

  My heart picked up pace, and I turned my head toward the noise. Voices, laughter, and a couple of howls drifted in, and my feet soaked in the vibration off the floor.

  I gripped the phone in my hand, speaking quickly, “Okay,” I answered. “I’ll see what Noah’s up to tonight, but if I need bail money or I come home pregnant, you only have yourself to blame.”

  “I trust you,” she replied, sounding amused. “And I love you.”

  “Love you, too.” And I hung up, setting the phone on the table.

  Trevor walked in the dining room first, having been in the media room, probably waiting for me to join him like I often did. He thought he had a right to be angry, but whatever he thought was between us, we were still just friends. He had no right to take me out of there today, and I was sick of him putting on a show to everyone like I belonged to him.

  He took the seat next to me, as usual, pulling out the chair and plopping down. He immediately started grabbing food to load onto his plate.

  Mrs. Crist walked in next, dressed in a tennis skirt and a white Polo, probably having just come from the club. She smiled at me and touched my shoulder as she walked to her seat. “How’s Christiane?” she asked.

  I nodded, laying my napkin in my lap. “Fine. We’re working our way through all of Chris Hemsworth’s movies.”

  She laughed and started serving herself as loud voices started to fill the room.

  “It’s already dark out,” I heard Will say, sounding out-of-breath.

  I glanced up, seeing Michael and all of his friends charge into the dining room. My heart fluttered, and I tensed, the large dining room suddenly ten times smaller with their huge forms filling the space.

  They were sweaty and breathing hard, having just come from the indoor court. It was an addition that was made to the house for Michael’s fourteenth birthday when his mother realized he wasn’t kidding about basketball and his father relented. He loved the game, much to Mr. Crist’s distaste.

  “Don’t be in such a damn rush.” Damon pushed Will’s head forward as he walked behind him. “I want to enjoy tonight.”

  They descended on the table, towering over us as they grabbed their plates—Michael dropping his basketball to the floor where it slowly rolled to the wall near the fire place—and loaded food like wolves oblivious to the rest of us waiting to see what was left over.

  “Rika, get your milk,” Mrs. Crist whispered-yelled, and I looked at her, both of us grinning and sharing in the joke. She had the cook buy chocolate milk for me, but it always ended up disappearing before I barely got a glass out of it.

  I reached over, quickly uncapping the container and pouring a glass before setting it back down again.

  “Where’s Dad?” Trevor asked.

  “Still in the city, unfortunately,” his mother answered.

  “Yeah, right.”

  I looked up at the whisper, seeing Michael tower over me as he reached for the chocolate milk in front of me.

  It was no secret that their father kept multiple women. Well, actually, it was a secret. One that everyone knew but no one talked about. Including Michael. His mother was the only person I was sure he would never hurt, which was why I was the only one to hear his snide remark.

  “Hell yeah,” Will gushed over some sweet potato dish Mrs. Haynes had set down as he piled the mushy concoction high on his plate.

  “Hand me two,” Damon held out his plate to Kai who doled out deviled eggs.

  They weren’t sitting, which meant they were probably taking their food off to the media room for privacy. They had plans for tonight to talk about, no doubt.

  But they didn’t get far.

  “Michael? All of you sit down now,” Mrs. Crist ordered pointing her finger.

  The guys stopped and smiled to themselves, indulging her as they turned back around and took seats.

  Michael sat in his father’s place at the head of the table, his friends on his right with Trevor between him and me on his left.

  Everyone dug in.

  “I’m going to trust that I don’t have to worry about tonight,” Mrs. Crist warned, picking up her fork and gazing around at the guys.

  Michael shrugged, uncapping my chocolate milk and drinking from the container without answering her.

  “We have no choice but to keep it low key,” Kai stepped in and answered, humor thick in his voice. “Michael would lose his spot on the team if we wound up on the news.”

  “Again,” Will finished, pride evident in his green eyes before sticking a forkful of potatoes into his mouth.

  While other teens might spend Devil’s Night toilet papering houses, nailing tires, and smashing pumpkins on the streets, the Horsemen were rumored to take their pranks a little further.

  Fires, break-ins, vandalism, and destruction of property were all credited to them even though there was never any proof, their faces being covered by masks as they were.

  But we always knew who it was. And even though the cops probably did, too, when you’re born with the blessing of the right name, connections, and money, you’ll use it.

  Damon Torrance, son of a media mogul.

  Kai
Mori, son of an influential socialite and banker.

  William Grayson III, grandson of Senator Grayson.

  And Michael Crist, son of a real estate developer.

  The boys may have shunned the rigidity and expectations of their parents, but they certainly enjoyed the umbrella of their protection.

  “Is it good to be back?” Mrs. Crist asked as she cut a piece of salad. “I know it must be hard, being separated at college.”

  “It is hard,” Will said mournfully. “But I just call one of the guys when my heart needs a hug.”

  I pursed my lips, trying to hide my smile as Damon snorted across the table.

  “Actually,” Kai started, leaning back in his chair. “I’m considering transferring to Westgate. I’m bored at Braeburn, and Westgate has a much better swim team, so…”

  “Great,” Trevor cut in. “You and Michael can continue your bro-mance now.”

  “Aw,” Will cooed, looking over the table at Trevor. “You feeling left out? Come here, Pretty Boy. I’ll show you some attention.” And then he leaned back in his chair, patting his thigh for Trevor to sit in his lap.

  I snorted, bowing my head and feeling eyes on me. Probably Trevor’s glare.

  I picked up my fork to start eating, ignoring him. Trevor didn’t tolerate Michael’s friends any more than he tolerated his brother.

  I looked up, seeing Mrs. Haynes through the doorway to the kitchen holding the house phone and mouthing something to Mrs. Crist.

  “Excuse me for a moment.” Mrs. Crist stood, pushed out her chair, and walked past the table, disappearing through the doorway.

  As soon as she was gone, Trevor shot out of his chair, and I jerked my eyes up, seeing him scowling at his brother.

  “Stay away from her,” he ordered.

  I let my eyes fall closed as I tipped my chin down. Embarrassment heated my cheeks, and I could feel everyone’s eyes on me.

  Jesus, Trevor.

  No one said anything for a few moments, but judging from the silence and lack of movement as I stared at my plate, everyone was waiting for Michael.