Broke and Famous

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Broke and Famous Page 11

by Elizabeth Gannon


  “There’s a difference between home improvement and fixing your series of mistakes.”

  “Not really, no. Find a problem and mend it. Problem solved. One less item on the clipboard. Repeat.” He wrote something down on his paperwork. “Life is just that easy, Darlin’. You Westgates always have to complicate things though.”

  She decided to change the subject, recognizing that this wasn’t the time to get life advice or to argue with her former step-brother.

  She was still very broke. She couldn’t afford to take care of herself right now, let alone find somewhere new for her family to live.

  Plus, she was always uncomfortable when she was alone with Thraex anyway, so this line of conversation would go nowhere good.

  Whenever they were alone together, she preferred to keep it distant and professional, silently praying that someone else would soon enter the room.

  It was dangerous to be alone with him.

  She started to busy herself with looking over her notes. She had designed this particular security system in high school, and despite the years since, it was still one of the best on the market. She’d never had to install one herself though. It wasn’t really something that a Westgate did. They designed things, but they didn’t typically get their hands dirty by installing them.

  That was usually left to someone like Thraex.

  The man straightened his suit and made a show of looking through the boxes again.

  Thraex seemed to prefer solid black dress pants held up by black suspenders, and black dress shirts with their long sleeves rolled up to his elbows, coupled with narrow and garishly colorful vintage ties. He wore them every day. Sasha wasn’t sure why exactly.

  Today’s sartorial abomination was a hot pink tie with psychedelic yellow and green swirling circles. The clownishly horrible fabric of the tie should have lessened the man’s imposing presence, but it somehow seemed to just amplify it.

  In Kurtz’s words: the ties told you that Thraex had “absolutely zero fucks to give” about your opinion.

  He was completely unafraid of anyone or anything in this world. Even rules about color matching or fear of looking ridiculous. Thraex took his overt self-confidence to a level which was almost threatening and confrontational.

  Sasha envied that.

  She herself was almost always rendered motionless by indecision and self-doubt.

  But Thraex had no self-doubt. This dimension and life with the Westgates had hardened him. Their failure was his crucible, making him stronger and more determined to succeed, if for no other reason than to make their lives hell.

  Thraex was a monster which they had created.

  And some days… Sasha was almost proud of that. Because the man was truly amazing. He was, perhaps, their greatest and most terrible invention.

  Oppenheimer had given birth to the nuclear bomb.

  The Westgates had brought something potentially much, much worse into this world.

  Thraex could have taken over this dimension if he had wanted. Easily. But even that seemed somehow beneath him.

  He was bigger than that. Harder. Smarter. And much scarier.

  Thraex was a man who lived in a world too small for him.

  He’d always taken her breath away. Even when he was younger. You could look at him and see the greatness and power beneath.

  She absently eyed the way his rolled-up sleeves accentuated the hard lines of his muscular arms, like he was constantly ready for a gentleman’s fistfight to break out.

  The mix of the civilized and the savage was surprisingly alluring…

  The Vibra-Light Atomic Scanner winked on, its signal suddenly filling the tablet sitting on the desk beside her.

  She jolted from her thoughts, then looked over the reading, making sure they were all in the green, then nodded. “Okay, I think that should be the last one in here. I need to check over these readings some more, but I think the installation in this building is just about done.”

  “Good.” Thraex picked up the case with their equipment in it. “Because as lovely as the company is, I hate this room.” He looked around the space, which was done in a country theme. The shelves were cluttered with ceramic farm animals and the oversized sofa sat below an honest to god Thomas Kinkaid print of a farm. “Why can’t they decorate things normal, like the Foundation does?”

  She made a face at him. “Oh, you hate everything about this dimension.”

  “That’s not true.” He sounded appalled by that accusation.

  “Elvis doesn’t count.” She deadpanned.

  He held up a finger to make what he obviously thought was an important point. “My dimension wouldn’t be the hellish wasteland it is if we had our own Elvis.”

  “Well, maybe that’s a career opportunity for you then.” She tucked her screwdriver into her pocket. “You should start taking singing lessons.”

  “But if there was more than one Elvis, then he wouldn’t be Elvis. He’s the one-of-a-kind irreplaceable treasure of this dimension.” He met her gaze, his eyes filled with a playful shade of greenish light. “Cherish him, Miss Sasha, because it’s madness in a world without, take it from a fella that knows.”

  She snorted in amusement.

  “Besides, there are other things in this dimension that I like.” He continued, the happy colors of his eyes darkening.

  He didn’t even need to finish the thought, the shifting mauve-ish light in his eyes gave him away. “If this is going to be something inappropriate…”

  “I was going to say ‘lemonade,’” he defended, “but if you wanna talk about ‘inappropriate’ things and how they relate to you and me, I will be a most dedicated listener, Darlin’.” He held up his hands in revelation, like he was at a tent revival. “Preach, sister, preach.”

  “Oh, shut up!” She moved to playfully swat at him, then thought better of it. Touching him wouldn’t help matters. “You were going to…” She trailed off as the interrupted action left her standing too close to him and off-balance.

  His hand shot out to steady her, pulling her against the broad expanse of his chest.

  Her entire body felt it, like someone had turned off all the noise in her life and allowed her to focus. For an instant of time, her head against his body, everything was calm and new…

  Her eyes popped back open and she pushed him away a second later. “And I can stand on my own, thank you very much.”

  “Well, I sure know that, chère. Just tryin’ to help you out when you need it, is all.”

  She met his eyes, hand still pressed against his chest, holding him at arm’s length. “I know exactly what you’re trying to do.”

  “Do you now?” He put his hand over hers, fingers gently massaging the back of her wrist through her lace glove. “And what, pray tell, do I have planned for your poor innocent self in this barnyard-themed nightmare, Miss Sasha?”

  She moistened her lips, forcing herself to speak. “You’re trying to get under my skin…” She all but whispered.

  “Your skin is involved in my plan, sure enough,” he agreed teasingly, “but not so much ‘under’ it…”

  She tried to ignore how amazing it felt to have his fingers caressing her skin like that, circling under her wrist to feel her pulse. “You want to torture us because of what we did to you…” She breathed, unable to focus. “What… what I did…”

  “There might be some pain involved, true…” He agreed. “Maybe a few bruises and a lil’ soreness… But I think we’ll both make it through in the end.” His other hand moved to the side of her face. “And as for what you did to me, I’d be happy to go over all of that with you, if you’d like…”

  “You have a plan, and I don’t trust you.” She firmed her jaw, trying to look more confident than she felt and hide the fact that his touch had always turned her legs to jelly. He touched her and it was like she was his puppet and he’d cut her strings. It had always been that way, no matter how wrong the feeling had been. “You hate my family. You stole everything from
us and now you’re trying to get revenge on me, by… by…”

  His eyebrows rose expectantly, obviously waiting for details on whatever sweaty sex acts her imagination could concoct.

  “…you know.” She finished, unable to even speak the words.

  “For a lady what’s been married before, you really don’t seem to have much of a grasp on what grabs a fella’s attention, Miss Sasha.” He leaned closer to her, his hand circling around to grasp her by the back of her neck. His strong fingers were firm but gentle, pulling her closer. “If your mind is havin’ trouble coming up with the particulars of my supposed devilry, then I’d be only too happy to share some of the darker thoughts I’ve had about you over the years. As always, I am eager to assist a respectable lady in distress.”

  The offer was… not enticing in the slightest. She had no interest in hearing what kinds of sick revenge schemes he’d cooked up in his head to humiliate her.

  Her body refused to fall into line behind the rationality of her mind though, and her pulse spiked higher at his words and the degrading scenes they promised.

  She imagined herself spread naked before him like a meal, helpless and wet and whimpering…

  …And instantly regretted it, because she was unable to hide her excitement from Thraex, as his fingers were still pressed to her wrist. He could feel exactly how fast her heart was going now, and it made her even more shamefully excited.

  No matter how hard she tried to deny it to herself… she liked the fact he knew the thought thrilled her. She wanted him to know, in some kind of sick way.

  She’d been embarrassed about it when they were both younger. It made her feel disgusted with herself, but she’d felt it anyway.

  Thraex wanted to do things to her which had no words. Wanted to treat her like a piece of meat tossed to a starving dog. Wanted to use her body to get back at her family.

  Wanted to make her crawl.

  She could tell.

  And in moments of sheer weakness and stupidity, there was a part of Sasha which was sometimes really excited by that.

  He was very tawdry. And her step-brother. And everyone in her life had told her to steer clear of him because he was beneath her station and was horrible. He was an asshole, who was now dedicated to destroying her family. He’d stolen everything from her.

  This infatuation was toxic. She knew that. It was toxic and wrong and ruinous.

  But some men seemed to exist only for sex you felt guilty about afterwards. That was seemingly their only purpose in God’s plan.

  Thraex was one of those men.

  He was sexy and strong and lean… You knew he was terrible for you, but for some reason, that just made you want to roll around in the muck of him.

  You’d feel bad after, but while you were with him… you’d feel better than you’d ever felt in your entire life.

  Sasha could look at him and she knew that, sure as she knew her own name.

  He smirked in obvious pleasure, viewing her quickened pulse as an invitation. “Well, I’ve been mighty fixed on this one where I…”

  She came to her senses and yanked her hand away from him, taking a step back. “I’m really not interested. All I want to do is make some money so that my family can be taken care of and we can leave you behind…”

  His mouth curved in a lopsided way that was not at all appealing, no matter what her body seemed to think. “You tried that before, chère, but don’t I just have a funny habit of comin’ back around on ya?”

  She licked her lips again, body still feeling tight and swollen. “…Strutting around my family’s home,” she breathed heavily, eyes scanning him and again taking stock of how many wonderful things he was doing for those black clothes and that hideous tie, “all arrogant and cocksure…”

  He smoothed a strand of her hair from off of her forehead, his skin was warm and rough against hers. “My cock is sure of a lot of things, Darlin’…” He agreed. “Happy to show you, if you’d like to take a peek.”

  She didn’t break eye contact, her breathing going faster. “You’re… you’re being gross.” She lied, trying to keep herself from instantly agreeing to the offer and letting him show her how hard he was for her.

  She could tell it was a lot.

  The thought had always excited her, on some sick level.

  When she’d been younger, she’d liked sitting at her family’s table and having a polite conversation with him in front of her overprotective mother, knowing how hard he was for her. Being able to feel it somehow, just from the way he looked at her.

  Knowing how wrong it was and how upset her parents would be and how ashamed it made her. She hated herself for feeling it, but she couldn’t stop. And all of that combined for a delicious cocktail of sex.

  “Well, I’m not a highborn intellect like you Westgates,” he pulled her closer, her mouth hovering above the sweet temptation of his lips, tempting her, “I’m just a simple boy from The Unseen Realm, but it seems to me like…”

  She cut him off by unconsciously moving her head incrementally closer to his, and his lips were instantly on hers, viewing that as an invitation. An invitation he acted on without waiting for approval or asking her permission. His open mouth immediately took possession of hers, his tongue forcing its way in and staking a claim.

  She yielded to him, her nipples throbbing as she pressed hard against his chest.

  His hand reached down to grasp her ass, fingers kneading her flesh so hard it was almost painful, lifting her up and grinding her against his erection. She’d been right in her earlier prediction: he was extraordinarily hard for her.

  She moaned with pleasure at his touch and the feel of him, raising her leg and wrapping it around his thigh. The move brought his hard length directly up against the burning heat of her mound, with only the fabric of their clothes between them.

  She let out a soft moan against his lips as his body teased hers, pressing against her. His strong fingers on her rear slid under her skirt…

  The outer door to the office swung open unexpectedly, cutting them off and making them both stumble backwards like teenagers getting caught by their parents.

  Kurtz casually strolled through the inner door a second later, his full attention on searching his pockets for something, completely missing what they had been doing.

  Thraex swore in agitation, obviously once again planning to brutally murder her brother.

  “Are you watching anything on that TV?” Kurtz asked, still completely focused on something else and sounding bored. “Because ‘The Monster from Mars!’ is the creature feature on Channel 10 tonight, and I want to watch it.”

  Sasha took another step away from Thraex, straightening her dress and trying to regain whatever tattered shreds were left of her composure and dignity.

  Dammit. Why did she do these things to herself!?!

  What was wrong with her!?!

  Why couldn’t she stay away from this man, when not staying away from him had already ruined her life?

  She cleared her throat, still sounding slightly out of breath, even to her own ears. “We’re… we’re working, Kurtz, nothing else.” She blurted out. “Nothing was happening...”

  Kurtz frowned slightly at that odd non sequitur, but didn’t comment on it. She loved her brother, but he wasn’t the most observant man, even on the best of days. “Whatever.”

  Thraex pinched the bridge of his nose. “Shit, Darlin’,” he whispered to her, “no wonder you got sent to jail, you cannot hold up under questionin’.”

  Kurtz flopped down into one of the office’s chairs and started to flip through the channels on the TV, searching for his old horror movie.

  Thraex switched it off and stood in front of the man. “This is not a joke.” He reminded him flatly. “This is not something that you do for fun, in an ironic way. This is a business. We need to focus on that business, or you’ll have to go out and get a real job, son. And not tryin’ to bruise your lil’ ego, but you ain’t gonna cut it out there and you know it
.”

  Seeing as how Thraex had spent the last hour making lewd flirty comments to her, the hypocrisy of a statement about needing to have a stronger work ethic, was positively galling.

  She literally couldn’t even speak for a moment, only managing a small astonished sound of disbelief that the man would have that kind of nerve. Finally, she found her voice again. “Y-y-yes, we all need to focus.” She reminded them. “I think you both need to leave and go… work. Right now.” She nodded, wanting Thraex out of this room before something happened that she didn’t want to happen, even though she really wanted it to happen. “Please.”

  Thraex looked over at her for a long moment, silently judging her mood, then turned to toss the box of equipment to Kurtz. “Let’s go, on your feet, son. Time to earn your keep out in the fields. Your sister’s gonna finish up in here, and you and I are gonna go get started on the next building.”

  Kurtz flipped Thraex off again, but got to his feet and trudged to the door.

  Thraex moved to follow him, then turned to look back at her. “You finish your work, chère, and let me know if your quick little mind comes up with any other particularly dirty things I might be planning to do to you in my revenge scheme.” He winked at her. “I’ve got more than a few ideas, obviously, but I’m very interested in hearin‘ the kinds of carnal horrors a certified super-genius can come up with.”

  He shut the door before she could reply, leaving her feeling out of breath and so turned-on she could cry.

  This was precisely the reason why she hated being alone with that man.

  Chapter 6

  “Marlowe Westgate. Died 1956. Disintegrated by a flying saucer. Or that’s what his wife said, anyway. She probably just shot him and buried him in the damn yard, countin’ on the Westgate luck to hide her crime. That bitch was screwing more things in town than a carpenter hopped up on pills, but that’s none of my business.”

  – Thraex, Damn Fool Ways Westgates Ended Up Graveyard Dead: Vol. 1

 

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