by Hamel, B. B.
I can’t fucking blame them.
The doorknob turns and the door pushes open without a knock. Jessamine strolls in wearing a loose t-shirt and a pair of short jean shorts. She plops down in the chair in front of my desk and gives me a look.
I sigh. “Can you knock?”
“Nope.” She cocks her head. “When’s the girl get here?”
“What do you care?”
She shrugs, looks at her nails. “Just curious.”
“She starts at eight.” I clear my throat. “Be nice to her.”
Jessamine gives me a look. “I’m always nice.”
“No, you’re not. You’re rarely nice. But try something different this time.”
She sighs and stretches. “Daddy never should’ve left you all the money. I’d do a better job running this place.”
I roll my eyes. “I know. You tell me every day.”
“Good.” She sits up straight and leans toward me. “So, do you like her?”
I frown. “She seems fine. She’ll do a good job.”
“Oh, come on, Case. Are you going to try and fuck her?”
I wince. “Jesus, Jessamine.”
“You’re always so shy. Poor, shy Case.”
I glare. “Cut the shit.”
“Okay, okay. Don’t flip out. I’m just saying, I hope you like her.”
I stare at my sister as she slowly rises. Her pretty southern-belle face slowly morphs into a delighted, wicked grin.
“Because otherwise, I’m going to kill her.”
We stare at each other for a second. Finally, I roll my eyes. “Go torture small animals or whatever it is you do all day, okay? I’m tired of your shit.”
She laughs and leaves my office. I feel totally drained as soon as she’s gone.
But I’d better keep an eye on her. Jessamine has been good for a long time now, but I know it’s always there, the potential for something bad, just lurking, waiting…
I sigh. I’ve kept shit together for a long time now. Nothing can ruin that.
The hour passes and soon I hear Fox answer the front door. I stand and head into the hallway in time to watch Eden follow him inside.
She catches my eye and smiles. I smile back, unable to help myself.
“I’ll take it from here, thanks, Fox,” I say.
The man nods and walks off.
“Good morning,” Eden says. She’s wearing a pair of tight yoga pants, a loose sweatshirt, and her hair up in a messy bun.
“Morning. Excited to get to work?”
She nods. “Incredibly excited. I went to bed dreaming of polishing floors.”
“Good. There sure as hell are a lot of floors to polish.”
She grins at me and I smile back. So she’s pretty and she’s clever. That’s good… and really bad.
“Come on,” I say. “Let me show you around.”
“Sure.”
We fall into step together as I take her on the abbreviated tour.
I start with the kitchen. “This used to be a mess,” I tell her as I gesture at the granite countertops and brand new shelves. “These old houses weren’t built with modern kitchen conveniences in mind.”
“You renovated the place?”
I nod. “Most of it, anyway. It’s not perfect, as you’ll find out. Lots of weird little quirks about this place…” I trail off, looking away from her.
I can remember being a child in Hammett’s End. I remember running down the halls, endlessly turning corners and finding new rooms, new wings that I never knew existed. I thought Hammett’s End was haunted back then, but now I know the truth.
Nothing’s haunted when you live with real monsters.
“Do you get much use out of the kitchen?” she asks me. “It looks spotless.”
“I cook most nights,” I admit. “My sister isn’t so interested, though.”
“Really? I thought you would’ve…” She trails off, looking embarrassed.
“What, hired a personal chef?”
She nods. “Yeah.”
I laugh and shrug. “I can’t blame you, but no. Not many chefs want to live in Pine Grove, Indiana, and the people already here, well… you know how it is.”
She looks embarrassed again so I lead her into the living room, the dining room, the formal dining room, and the sitting room. It’s a maze of individual rooms with little hallways and side doors leading off and down back corridors.
I talk the whole time, giving her a quick history of the house. I talk about all the new wings my family added on over the years, about the particularly odd great-uncle that got obsessed with adding new floors before finishing the old ones.
“Don’t go into the attic,” I warn her.
“Why not?”
“It’s unfinished,” I say. “Some of the floorboards are loose, there are nails sticking up all over, and it’s basically a deathtrap.”
“Sounds lovely.”
“You can thank my relatives for that one,” I sigh. “But don’t worry, you’ll never have reason to head up there.”
We move upstairs. I show her the music room, the painting room, the dancing room. I show her a few guest rooms and bathrooms; all different kinds of rooms.
“How do you live here?” she asks me finally as we finish the second floor. “It’s so big and… empty.”
“Honestly, I just ignore the parts I never go into,” I admit.
“Must get lonely.”
I hesitate. “Yeah. Sometimes. Jessamine and Fox make it easier, though.”
“Where do they sleep?”
I gesture back downstairs. “Fox has a couple rooms down there, but don’t worry about those. And Jessamine sleeps up on the third floor with me.”
She raises an eyebrow as we head up the steps. “You sleep with your sister?”
I grin at her. “We’re not that kind of family.”
She blushes. “No, I mean, in the same room?”
“Of course not. I just meant, we sleep on the same floor,” I sigh. “Jesus, you must really think we’re freaks.”
She blushes again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay,” I say softly. “I can’t blame you. All the shit people say about us would have anyone feeling weird.”
I lead her through the third floor. I show her more rooms, including Jessamine’s. “Don’t bother with that,” I say, shaking my head. “Jessa is pretty… private.”
I show her sideboards, paintings, rugs, all the lavish trappings of an old, wealthy family. All the lavish bullshit that I can’t wait to sell one day.
Or maybe I’ll just burn it all.
Finally, we get to my room. I hesitate outside the door. “You’ll be cleaning in here, too,” I say to her. “Is that okay?”
She shrugs. “Of course. Just don’t freak out if I touch your dirty underwear.”
I laugh softly. “If only you’d be so lucky.”
I open the door and we step inside. My room is immaculately clean and neat, just the way I like it. One large bed dominates the room, with dressers on either side and a wardrobe against the far end. There’s a large walk-in closet and a huge bathroom, all recently refinished. There’s a fireplace and a little couch with chairs in front of it, basically my own little sitting area. It’s the biggest room in the house, at least that Eden’s seen.
Becoming the head of the family does have its perks.
“And that’s it,” I say, turning to her. We stand facing each other, my bed only feet away, almost tantalizing.
She nods. “I can handle it.”
“Good. There are other rooms that I didn’t show you, but don’t bother with those. Nobody goes anywhere near them anymore.”
She shrugs. “Whatever you say.”
“Okay, good. You can start up here.” I lead her into my bathroom. I have a bucket, mops, sponges, cleaning solutions, gloves, all the shit she’d need. “I have you set up already.”
She nods, pushing up her sleeves. “Sounds good. I’ll work my way downstairs.�
��
“Perfect. If you need anything, Fox will be around, or I might be in my study.”
“Okay. And what about Jessamine?”
I cock my head. “What about her?”
“Will she be… you know, around?”
I shrug. “Who knows. Probably not.”
I can tell she wants to ask more, but she holds back. “Anyway, I’ll get started.”
“Good. I’ll leave you to it.” I step away as she turns to the bucket. I watch her bend over and stare at her sweet, firm ass. I have a sudden, intense moment where I feel like I’m going to drag her into my bed and never let her go.
I can picture it in my mind so clearly. I’d handcuff her hands behind her back at first, take off her pants, her panties. I’d tease her pussy until all of her fear is gone, replaced by desire.
That’s when I’d spank her. I’d make it hurt, make her groan. Maybe even make her beg. And when she doesn’t know if she can take more, I’ll put my tongue between her legs and bring all that pleasure back.
I’ll take her to the edge and back again, over and over and over. I’ll make her come so hard she can barely breathe.
After that, I won’t need to handcuff her anymore. She’ll need my cock more than water, more than air. She’ll never want to get away.
I take a sharp breath and pull my thoughts away from that dark place. I can’t let myself go there. I can’t let myself taste her, control her, take her and keep her. I’m trying to be better, trying to keep that part of me safely tucked away in a corner.
I’m trying to be the only Hammett to be a decent person.
I leave the room. Eden’s going to do just fine. There’s nothing dangerous in Hammett’s End, at least not while I’m around. She’ll be safe and she’ll clean for me, and life can go on just like it always has.
Except I know, deep down, that isn’t true. Just bringing Eden into my house like this changes everything. She already woke up a part of me that I thought I’d tamed with an endless stream of one-night stands and empty fucking pussy. I can already feel it, trying to claw its way up from the deepest, darkest parts of me.
Why the fuck did my new maid have to be so fucking hot?
It’ll be fine. It’ll have to be. I’ll keep calm and keep my distance.
Otherwise, I know I’ll destroy her. I’ll ruin her.
And she’ll thank me for it in the end.
3
Eden
As soon as Case finished the tour, all of my nerves drifted away.
It’s strange. I know that the Hammett family has a horrible reputation but talking to Case makes me completely forget all about that gossip. He’s such a normal person, surprisingly down to earth and honest. I expected him to be haughty, an asshole, but he’s… not like that, not exactly.
He’s handsome, gorgeous really. I can’t deny that part. But he’s not stuck up. He’s confident, borderline cocky, but it’s not arrogance. It’s like he’s just comfortable in what he is.
I cleaned that house, top to bottom. It took me longer than expected. I didn’t run into a single other person until the very end, when I was finishing up. Fox appeared out of nowhere to give me my day’s pay in cash and to usher me out the front door.
“You’re paying me in cash every day?” I asked him.
He nodded. “Every day. Will that be okay?”
I laugh. “Absolutely.”
“Until tomorrow.”
He didn’t smile when I left.
I hurried right home with a big smile on my face. Fox handed me two hundred dollars in cash, and if my math is right, that means I’ll be making more than the stated $50,000 per year, all of it under the table.
Jesus fuck. Tax season is going to be a pain, but this is amazing.
As soon as I get home, I stash the bulk of the money in my closet. I check on my mother, but she’s out of it. I kiss her forehead, check that she took her medication, change my clothes, and head out the door.
I’m feeling good, so I go to the only halfway decent bar in town, a little local spot called Hammy’s. It’s been here for as long as I can remember, stable and unchanging.
The parking lot is crowded as I head inside. Most tables are taken up by local people, and I scan the room for faces I know. There are a few, but none I really want to spend time with, so I grab a seat at the bar and order a glass of wine.
This is Pine Grove, right here, all in a single room. This is what people do after work to unwind and have a good time. They come to Hammy’s for subpar food and cheap alcohol. There are guys sitting down the bar from me that have been sitting in those same stools for twenty years, and I suspect they’ll be in those same stools until the day they die.
“Well, hey there, little Eden.”
I frown and look over my shoulder. A pair of bodies lurk in my peripheral vision, and it takes me a second to figure out what I’m looking at.
Mitch Ware and Dean Fish grin back at me. Dean’s the one that spoke, his head tilted to the side, his familiar face having gone a little soft since the last time I saw him back in high school.
I didn’t like Dean back then. He was a part of the jock squad, one of those big assholes that think they run the town because they’re popular and good at football. I don’t know what happened to him or his other friends, but I guess they never got out of town. Mitch was another one of those jock dickheads, although he was always quieter, less likely to call me a fucking dyke.
“Dean, Mitch,” I say. “I didn’t know they’d let you two in here.”
Dean laughs but there’s no joy in his eyes. “I heard you were home, Eden, but damn. I didn’t know you were all grown up, too.”
There’s an edge in his voice. A hungry edge. I know what that edge means, and I can’t blame him. There aren’t a lot of new women in Pine’s Grove, and even though he used to torture me in school, he probably thinks he can still get in my pants.
“Here I am,” I say. “What have you two been up to?”
“Oh, you know. Working in the mill. Honest work, right, Mitch?”
Mitch grunts his reply. Dean doesn’t even look at him.
“What about you, college girl? I hear you’re cleaning houses these days.”
I wince but try and keep the annoyance out of my expression. Of course, he knows about my job at Hammett’s End. Everyone probably fucking knows about it now.
This is why I never wanted to come back to Pine Grove. If it weren’t for my mother, I’d be long gone.
“Yeah, I’m cleaning for the Hammetts,” I say. “Not much else to do around here.”
“But you got that fancy degree,” Dean mocks. “How come you ain’t off in the big city?”
I sigh. “You know why, Dean. My mom’s sick and I’m back home to try and help her out.”
“That’s right. Your mom’s sick.” He laughs, like it’s funny. “And so, you shack up with those rich freaks. What do they have you doing in there, Eden?”
The edge in his voice takes a turn, and I have to try and keep my heart from beating too fast. His eyes have a hint of malice in them, a real, genuine anger. I know people around here don’t like the Hammett family, but Dean seems to hate them for real.
“Just cleaning, and I don’t like your implication.”
He snorts. “Sure you don’t. Come on, tell me. They’re freaks, right? Are you cleaning in a skimpy little maid’s outfit?”
I glare at him for a second. I can feel my calm slipping away. “Why don’t you fuck off, Dean?”
“Nah,” he sneers, leaning closer. “I wanna hear about it. What sorta freaky shit are you up to? I’ve heard all about that Case boy, heard all sorts of nasty things about him. I hear he likes his girls young. Are you young enough, Eden?”
I lean toward him. “Fuck off and leave me alone.”
I can smell the alcohol on his breath now. Mitch looks a little worried, and the chatter at the bar is starting to die down.
“Come off your high horse, college girl. I know a slut when I see
one. You’re over there whoring it for the Hammetts just to make a dime while us honest folk work in the damn mill. And meanwhile they cut half the workforce and reap the benefits.”
I frown a little. I hadn’t heard about layoffs and cuts at the mill, but then again, I haven’t been back long. His anger suddenly makes sense.
But I can feel this about to take a turn. I can feel his anger getting worse, getting dangerous. I lean away from him.
“Leave me alone, Dean,” I say loudly, hoping to shame him away.
The room is nearly silent now. Dean laughs.
“Fuck you, college girl. Tell me what you’re doing there.”
He grabs my arm, fingers digging into my skin. “Get the fuck off me!”
I try to wrench it away, but he holds it tight.
“Dean…” Mitch says softly.
“Fuck you, college girl,” he hisses at me. “You always thought you were better than me, didn’t you?”
“Dean,” Mitch says again, fear clear in his voice this time.
“Fucking uppity slut,” Dean says, leaning close. He looks like he’s about to say more, but suddenly he’s yanked backward. I stumble forward, catching myself, as his hand comes off my arm.
I stare as Dean stumbles back, running into an empty table. He turns to face Case Hammett, looking grim. He’s wearing a pair of jeans and a button-down flannel shirt. It’s worn and if I didn’t just see Case a few hours ago, I probably wouldn’t recognize him.
“Leave the girl alone,” Case says to Dean.
Dean’s eye bulge. “What the fuck do you want, Hammett?” he snaps.
Mitch is backing away, terror clear in his expression now. “We were just playing around,” he says.
Case ignores Mitch. He stares at Dean. “Get out of here. If you come back, I’ll make you wish you hadn’t.”
Dean stands up straight, sneering. “You think you can kick me outta here, asshole?”
“I do,” Case says simply. “Now it’s time to go.”
Dean lurches toward him, but Case moves faster. Dean tries to tackle Case, but the taller, stronger man brings a knee up, catching Dean in the face. I hear a crunch as Dean’s nose flattens and breaks.
He drops to the floor with a groan, hands on his face, trying to staunch the blood.