The Neighborhood (A Twin Estates Novel Book 2)

by Stylo Fantome

  She stood in her backyard and took deep breaths of fresh air. There were a couple people on the patio, talking quietly and nibbling at food. Other than that, it was quiet outside. She glanced around. If Vieve was there, where were Wulf and Brie? She'd seen Ms. Stone inside already – where were the rest of her kids?

  Not wanting to go back into the party, Katya decided to go find them. She made her way through her backyard and into theirs, then marched right through the open sliding glass door that led to their den.

  There was no one in the room, but she could hear raised voices. Not yelling, but someone didn't sound happy. It was a voice she didn't recognize, a man. She made her way to the front of the house, following the noise.

  Brighton Stone was standing in the grand entry way, her back to the stairs. A man was standing in front of her, pointing down and speaking fast. Katya stared for a second, a little shocked. She'd never met him before, but she immediately recognized him.

  Wow. Wulfric looks just like his father. A little taller, a little broader, but that face. Those eyes. Mr. Stone and his son could almost be twins.

  She was so in awe at seeing the mysterious Mr. Stone, that she didn't clue into what he was saying for a minute. When it started cutting into her thoughts, she frowned and looked back at Brie. The girl looked small, and embarrassed, and even a little … scared.

  “... drop out!” Mr. Stone was yelling. “No child of mine will be called a drop out! Do you have any idea how humiliating that is? To tell people that!?”

  “I'm sorry, Dad. It just wasn't for me. I really -” she started, but he slashed his hand through the air.

  “Not good enough! Wasn't for you!? You're a spoiled brat. Between Wulf and your mother, they've ruined you. Look at you,” he sneered, his eyes wandering over his daughter's form. “You look like a tramp.”

  Again, Katya had led a somewhat sheltered life, never being exposed to much violence or trouble. So hearing a parent speak to his child that way was flooring. How could he speak to her like that?

  “I'll change,” Brie insisted. “I can go upstairs -”

  “Changing your clothes won't change who you are, Brighton. A degenerate drop out. I'm embarrassed that you share my name.”

  Katya's fuse was lit, burning down, and an explosion was imminent. How dare he. How fucking dare he. Her father was laying in a hospital bed, missing an eye and a leg. Katya had come close to only having one parent. One member in her immediate family.

  And here this man was, berating his youngest daughter, maliciously hurting her, casting her aside. Had already cast her aside, many years ago. Had cast them all aside. Thrown Brie away, like trash. Thrown Vieve away, like she was broken. Thrown Wulfric away, like he wasn't good enough.

  “How fucking dare you.”

  She'd spoken without realizing it. Both Brie and her dad whipped their heads towards her and watched as she stomped into the room.

  “Who the hell are you?” he demanded, standing up straight.

  “Someone who actually knows Brighton, unlike you,” Katya snarled, standing between him and his daughter. He narrowed his eyes and pointed at her.

  “I know you, you're that girl from next door,” he said.

  “I'm that girl who has spent more time with your family than you have,” she spit out at him. “Get the fuck out of her house.”

  “How dare you speak to me like this! I bought this house!” he yelled at her.

  “Wulfric bought this house,” she corrected him. “And Wulfric raised your daughters, and Wulfric sent them to college. So you know what? I don't think you're fucking welcome here!”

  There was a gasp from behind her, and Katya suddenly remembered that Brighton hadn't known any of that. Wulf had always allowed the girls to believe that their mother had been taking care of them all these years.

  Well, good. They need to know.

  “I don't know who you think you are,” Mr. Stone snarled, stepping up close to her. She didn't move an inch, just glared right back at him. “Probably just another tramp, like her. Why are you even here? For her, or for Wulf? Well, don't you worry, I would never allow some little tramp to ruin everything my son – AH!”

  He let out a shout as he was yanked backwards, almost off his feet. Both Katya and Brie shrieked, with Katya backing into the other girl, shielding her. It took her a second to realize what had happened, though, and then she watched with wide eyes as Wulfric dragged his father back by the collar of his jacket.

  “Never call me that,” he was growling as he shoved his dad up against a wall.

  “What do you think you're doing!?” Mr. Stone demanded.

  “I am not your son,” Wulf continued, pinning his father in place. “Get the fuck out of my house, and don't you ever fucking come back.”

  “You can't do this to me! I came here because your mother -”

  Wulf didn't wait to hear the reason. He yanked his father around by his suit jacket, dragging him to the front door. Once he had it open, he shoved his father out onto the porch.

  “Don't come back here,” Wulf said, out of breath as he pointed as his father. “And don't ever speak to Brighton again. Or Vieve, for that matter. If I hear about you contacting them in any way, so help me god, you will regret it.”

  “Wulfric, please. Be an adult about this,” his dad insisted, keeping his voice calm as he straightened out his jacket.

  Instead of responding, Wulf shut the door in his father's face. They all stayed silent, listening as Mr. Stone banged on it for a minute. Katya held her breath, watching Wulf. He was almost trembling with rage. She could tell he wanted to open the door and end his father, but she got the feeling he was holding back because she and Brighton were in the room.

  Speaking of Brighton …

  “Oh my god,” she breathed, turning around as soon as they heard Mr. Stone huff down the front walk. “Are you okay!?”

  Brighton was flat against the wall, tears streaming down her face. She wasn't wearing a stitch of makeup and she looked young. Much younger than nineteen even. She didn't look at Katya, just stared at her brother.

  “How could I not know that?” she finally asked. Wulf stayed facing the door till they heard car tires peeling out of the driveway – Mr. Stone finally leaving.

  “What was he doing here?” he asked, ignoring her question as he headed towards them.

  “Mom called him, told him about Mr. Tocci. Begged him to come,” Brie explained, wiping at her nose and face.

  “Goddammit,” Wulf growled, squeezing his eyes shut tight for a moment. “Why the fuck does she do that!?”

  “Why does everyone lie to me!?”

  Brighton was screaming. Katya hurriedly stepped away, giving the brother and sister some space.

  “Brie,” he sighed. “We didn't lie, we just ...”

  “Never told me anything! Does Vieve know?” she demanded. There was another pause.

  “She found out a little while ago, yeah,” he was honest.

  “God! You all think I'm so stupid! I always thought mom was paying for college. Paying out of child support from him,” she sobbed. “You all wonder why I never talk to you! Now do you see why!?”

  “Brie, just calm down, and let's talk about this.”

  “No! No, you all are always leaving me out! I'm like the ugly step-sister, you might as well have just chained me up in the basement!” she shouted. He looked bewildered.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Not as pretty as Vieve,” she was sobbing. “Not as smart as you. You never talk to me, Mom never notices me. Dad hates me. Jesus, I hate this fucking family!”

  Stunned at her outburst, neither Katya nor Wulf moved when Brie ran across the room. She was out the door before Wulf could take a step, and driving down the street by the time he got to the door.

  “Goddammit!” he roared, slamming the door shut so hard the chandelier above them rattled.

  “I'm sorry,” Katya spoke quickly, walking over to him. “I'm so sorry. I just heard hi
m, the way he was talking to her, and I … I didn't even think.”

  Wulf didn't respond. He turned and walked straight up the stairs, surprising her a little. She hesitated for a moment, then followed him. Stayed a couple steps behind all the way to his room, then she lingered in the door way.

  “Come in,” he finally said in a gruff voice.

  She stepped softly into the space, looking around. As a teenager, she'd often fantasized about going into Wulfric Stone's bedroom. But with the way things were, it almost felt wrong to be there now.

  It had long since been made over, there were no signs that a teenager had ever inhabited the room. It wasn't the master bedroom, but it was huge, with a spacious walk-in closet and its own sitting area. Wulf walked in there, straight to a bar that was set up against a wall. He poured himself a couple fingers of scotch, slammed it back, then poured another glass.

  “Here,” he said, offering her the glass. Katya didn't drink scotch, but she didn't argue. She took the glass and sipped at it while he made up another one for himself.

  “Are you okay?” she asked in a soft voice. He shrugged.

  “Just as okay as I ever am,” he replied, then he swallowed all the scotch in one go again. “And you? Are you okay?”

  “I'm fine.”

  “When I heard him talking to you that way,” he started in a soft voice, staring at the wall in front of him. “Talking to Brie … I wanted to hurt him.”

  “I know,” she nodded.

  “You have no idea,” he whispered.

  “It's okay. It's okay to feel that way,” she assured him, struggling to keep calm.

  “It's always like this,” he suddenly said, and she shrieked when the glass in his hand broke. He'd squeezed it so hard, it had shattered. “Whenever I come home.”

  “Oh my god, Wulf, you're bleeding,” she gasped, hurrying over to him and setting her glass down.

  “This is why I stay away from the girls, I just ruin things,” he kept talking while she searched the bar area. There was a small sink, and underneath it she found some bandages and towels. She wet one of the towels and grabbed his hand, dabbing at the small cuts.

  “Stop it,” she said, throwing the towel aside and opening one of the bandages.

  “And you,” he continued. “Look at what happened with you.”

  “I said stop,” she urged, smoothing her fingers over the large bandage, sticking it into place.

  “And right now,” he kept going. “You don't need to be part of this bullshit. Your dad … Mr. Tocci. I can't imagine, Katya.”

  She nodded, stepping back and wiping at tears.

  “It's bad,” she agreed. “It's pretty shitty fucking awful. But you know what?”

  “What?” he asked, frowning at her.

  “At least … at least I don't have your dad.”

  His eyes got wide and she startled a laugh out of him. She laughed as well, and for a few moments, nobody frowned. But she couldn't stop crying and eventually they fell silent again.

  “I'm so sorry, Katya,” he sighed, reaching out and wiping her tears away with his thumb.

  “You don't have to be sorry,” she told him.

  “I'm sorry I was the wrong man for you,” he said. She held still for a moment, then started shaking. She chewed on her lips for a moment before taking a deep breath.

  “Not wrong ...” she whispered, and he smiled sadly.

  “But definitely not right,” he whispered back, moving his hand to cup her cheek. “I'm sorry I'm not a very good person. I'm sorry I broke you.”

  “Me, too, Wulf.”

  When he kissed her, she cried harder. When he tried to pull away, she clung tighter to him. Wrapped her arms around his shoulders and never wanted to let him go.

  He kissed her lips and her chin and her eyelids. Wiped away her tears and whispered to her soul.

  “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Forgive me.”

  She didn't want to go home. She didn't want to go back to San Francisco. She didn't want to be Katya Tocci, the baker, and she didn't want him to be Wulfric Stone, real estate mogul. She wanted them to be the kind of people who wouldn't hurt each other. Who could just love and hold each other and take care of each other.

  They bumped into his bed before she even knew they were moving. It was so quiet in the room that when he pulled down the zipper on her dress, she felt like the sound echoed around them.

  The dress and her shoes disappeared when she laid down on the bed. His shirt was gone by the time he laid down on top of her. Her bra was removed while she pushed at his pants with her hands and feet.

  “I don't want to hurt you,” he whispered, his lips trailing across her chest while his finger curled around the top of her underwear.

  “You can't,” she whispered back, holding still as he removed her panties.

  Maybe it was wrong. Maybe it was awful of them. But they were both so broken and hurting, and there was nowhere else she wanted to be at that moment. She wanted his touch to heal every pain he'd caused. She wanted to kiss away all the hurt he'd experienced in his life. She wanted to be in that moment with him, where they were the only things that mattered to each other.

  Sex between them had rarely been overly emotional, but something powerful happened when he entered her. She took a deep breath, feeling every inch of him every inch of the way. She pressed her head back, straining her body away from him even while she pressed her hips closer.

  “No one else,” he breathed as he slowly moved over her and inside of her. “No one else has ever been like you.”

  “No, no one,” she agreed, hugging him close and whispering in his ear.

  “I never stopped,” he said.

  “Stopped what?”

  “Looking at you like you were Christmas. Even when you were angry. Even when you thought you hated me. Even when you were with him. You've always been a gift to me.”

  “A gift,” she whispered, pressing her face to the side of his as she started crying again.

  “Thank you, Katya. For being the best present I ever got.”

  She was never, ever going to stop crying. Her heart would always be breaking for this beautiful man, but if she had to be hurting, then Wulfric Stone was very much worth it.

  He abruptly rolled them over, startling her. He handled her like she was weightless, settling her on top of him, her knees on either side of his hips. She moaned shakily, having trouble breathing because he filled her to the point overflowing.

  “I want to see you,” he breathed, brushing her hair out of her face. She nodded and started moving her hips.

  “You do, Wulf. You see me.”

  He kept his hand in her hair, anchoring her forehead to his so she couldn't look anywhere but him. He kept a hand on her hip, urging her faster while his own hips pumped harder. She moaned and cried out, clutching at his shoulders. Something big was happening inside of her, and she was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the orgasm that was about to happen.

  If I wasn't broken before, this will shatter me.

  The orgasm unfurled slowly, setting her body on fire. It started in her core and spiraled outward, causing her to lose her breath and shake uncontrollably. She let go of him and lost her balance, almost falling over. He held still and wrapped his arms around her, crushing her to him and kissing her hard.

  While she was still trembling and shattering and losing herself in him, he slowly rolled them forward. She laid back and stretched out her arms, arching her back when he started driving into her fast and hard.

  His hands and tongue were everywhere, making it hard to tell where she ended and he began. He was murmuring and whispering to her, things she didn't want to hear. Not when she was so upset. Then his arms were back around her, so tight she had trouble breathing, but she didn't say anything. Just wrapped her arms around him and held on for dear life while he came and came and came and came …

  “No one,” he was panting when she finally floated back into her body. “No one will ever be like you, Katya Tocc
i.”

  She wanted to respond, but she couldn't. She was crying too hard.

  27

  “I want to stay here.”

  “Then I'll stay, too.”

  “No, Wulfric.”

  “Why not?”

  “Your life is in San Francisco.”

  “So? We'll go home eventually.”

  “I don't know if I'll ever go home.”

  “I don't care. I'll stay.”

  “I want you to go.”

  “I don't care.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “... I don't want to leave you.”

  “I know. And I'm sorry, but you have to. I have to be here for my parents. I quit the bakery. I wasted enough time playing games in San Francisco – my time and yours. I won't do that anymore.”

  “The best time I ever had was when I was wasting time with you.”

  “Where was this silver tongue weeks ago?”

  “Tocci.”

  “Stone.”

  “I don't understand.”

  “You're amazing. Perfection in human form. But … I don't trust you. No more games, no more confusion. I will never be able to thank you for all you've done for me, but it still doesn't change what happened in the past. I forgive you, I really do. But after everything that's happened … I don't want to keep doing this. Fighting and having sex and then wondering when the next bad thing will happen. Maybe I'm just not ready for a relationship. I have a lot of growing up to do. I'm sorry.”

  “So do I, apparently.”

  “Yes, and it feels like trying to do that together, it's just making us into worse people.”

  “I don't agree.”

  “And that's okay, but it doesn't change anything. I'm so sorry, Wulf.”

  “Don't be. Never be sorry.”

  “Still.”

  “I know.”

  “I'm sorry.”

  “Me, too, Tocci.”

  “You'll always be my teenage dream, Wulf.”

  “And don't you forget it.”

  “Never. Never, ever, never.”

  “I'll miss you.”

  “And I'll miss you. But this is good.”