by Nikki Ash
Next, we inspect the tiniest lime green bathroom and Cat screams when she sees a spider. Once that fucker is dead, I take her to the bedroom. All the furniture remains in this room as well. Covered and protected from dust. Cat makes quick work to remove it all. I lean against the doorframe, watching her get lost in her excitement. She stands on the bed and draws the blinds up. Then she settles on her knees to stare out at the sparkling lake.
“Harrison, come here. Hurry,” she says, waving me to her.
I climb onto the bed, mimicking her action, and put my arm around her. Her palm splays over my chest and she looks up at me.
“It’s our spot.”
I kiss her forehead. “It’s our spot.”
She lets out a squeal when I twist with her on the bed and pin her to the old, lumpy mattress. Her smiles turn into breathy murmurs when I start peeling away her clothes. Once we’re both naked, I spread her thighs and enter her wet, inviting body. Our eyes lock as I fuck her sweetly in our spot. When I get closer to losing control, I reach between us and strum her clit just the way she likes. Soon, she’s crying out and quivering as an orgasm strikes her. Her cunt clenches my shaft and I groan as my release spurts from me, soaking her insides as I claim her as mine once more.
Falling against her, I bury my nose in her hair as my weight pins her to the bed.
“I love it here,” I tell her honestly. “It feels like home.”
She strokes her palms over my shoulders. “It feels like home because we make it that way.”
“It’s crazy, Cat, but I don’t care. I love you. I have since the moment I laid eyes on you,” I whisper, seeking out her earlobe to kiss it.
“I love you too, Harrison. When you know, you know. And I don’t want to waste one second of it.”
My cock begins to harden inside her and I nip at her ear. “Good, then I’m not going to waste one second of fucking you again before we go have pie with our new landlord.”
“Make it quick, stallion,” she teases.
Gripping her wrists, I pin them to the bed and lift up so I can stare at her soft, pretty face. “Actually,” I say as I slowly thrust in and out of her. “I’d like to take my time and do this for the rest of my life.”
Her green eyes twinkle with love. “I’d like that too.”
Heath
One week later…
I WATCH THROUGH MY WINDSHIELD as my weak son attempts to talk to his cousin. There, standing in her school uniform, she lifts her chin as she listens to what he has to say. He keeps reaching for her and she steps away each time.
Weak boy.
So fucking weak.
It’s embarrassing that he comes from my flesh. That he, even with all the money he has access to, would allow these people to make him feel so small. It’s ridiculous.
From what Theo tells me, Harrison has plans to marry Cat on Sunday. A small affair in a tiny church because those idiots can’t afford anything more. Her mother is probably turning over in her grave knowing her daughter is settling for less.
Bile rises in my throat. I’m disgusted. Fury and hatred burn through me. I’ve been trying to think of a way to make them pay. Elliot was my first attempt. But before I could fire him, I found the letter of resignation sitting on his desk.
He quit.
The fool left my company knowing it was more than he could have ever deserved. I researched and discovered he works selling insurance. Fucking insurance. How that man who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth would ever willingly step down is beyond me. It’s unimaginable. I’m infuriated trying to figure him out.
They all probably sit around at dinner discussing how they outsmarted poor old Mr. Heath. Fuck them. They only paused the game. I’m strategizing my next move while they gloat in their perceived win.
They have not won.
They will never win.
This game has always been mine. I make the rules. I dictate the plays. I say who wins. And that’s me.
My eyes track Theo and Cat as they walk down the steps. She doesn’t seem happy with him, but she’s listening to what he has to say. Nothing like her mother. Catrina would have flayed the boy right there. Reminded him that you don’t fuck with her.
Not Cat.
Too much Elliot Lincoln in her.
She’s fucking soft.
And the moment she marries that good for nothing piece of shit orphan, this will all have been for nothing. Decade after wasted decade. It’s almost as though she seems happy to run off with the worthless mechanic. As though he has more to offer than the likes of my son.
I roll my windows down and listen when they approach.
“I don’t need a ride,” she tells him, waving her keys in his face. “I have my own.”
His shoulders hunch when she climbs into her Mustang and drives off. My idiot son runs to his own car, turns his engine over, and immediately kills it. I watch in horror as he just lets her get away.
Something clicks inside my mind and my engine roars to life. I see Theo’s confused look when he realizes I was watching them. My car peels out as I fire out of the parking lot after her. She drives slow until she makes it to a stop sign and sees me in the rearview mirror. Then, she puts the muscles to the test on her Mustang and peels out. I’m in my Mercedes rather than Theo’s Porsche he’s damn near killed, so I’m not as fast as her Mustang.
But she’s a girl who drives like an idiot. I easily catch up and ride alongside her, waving for her to pull over. She shakes her head and guns it again. We’re on a two-way street and she flails and screams, pointing ahead where a big-ass semi-truck barrels toward us.
“Pull the fuck over,” I roar, even though she can’t hear me.
She shoots me a panicked look. At the last second, she brakes and pulls off on the shoulder. I whip back into my lane and jerk the wheel off onto the shoulder, blocking her car. Then, I jolt from the vehicle and rush over to hers. She scrambles for the lock, but I’m quicker. I yank the door open and reach for her. Her fingernails rake down my forearm, but my suit jacket protects me from her assault. I snag her neck and then unbuckle her seatbelt. Dragging her from the car, I kick the door shut and wrangle her toward my car.
“What are you doing?” she screams. “Let me go!”
“You should have never left,” I snarl as I pop the trunk. “You should have never left!”
She fights me as I push her inside the trunk. Her hands slap at me and her feet kick out. We struggle against each other. The girl has fire in her. Definitely got that from her mother.
“You can’t do this!” she bellows, her foot clocking me in my still-sore jaw.
I howl and grip her neck again, pinning her down. “I can and I will.”
Jerking my hand back quickly, I shut the trunk down on her. She screams and pounds, but I ignore her as I climb back in my car. I punch on the gas and tear off down the road. Violent energy thrums through me.
I will win.
I just had to make my move.
She’s not going anywhere.
Harrison and Elliot. They will pay for trying to make a fool out of me. I’ll keep the girl like I should have kept her fucking mother.
Do you like her better than me?
The bitter voice in my mind is familiar. Feminine. Catrina. My heart stutters in my chest and I grind the heel of my hand into my temple. I fucking hate when I hear her voice. It’s not real. It’s my mind making a mess of my memories.
She’s pretty. Admit it.
“Fuck you,” I roar to nothing and no one. “She could never compare.”
The crazed laughter in my head soothes me and my heart thrums in its cage. Just having her daughter in my clutches has me feeling closer to the woman I loved than I’ve felt since her death.
Are you going to keep her?
“Yes.”
Fuck her?
“No.” I crack my neck as I speed down the road. “She’s nothing like you. She’s too much like that motherfucking Elliot.”
More cackles echo i
n my mind.
Good.
Gritting my teeth, I rub at my temple again. I hate when I rationalize my thoughts by using her voice. Her fucking memory. I’m not crazy, but this sure makes me feel that way.
They made you crazy, the voice in my head purrs.
Elliot. Harrison. My brother and his wife. Isabel.
Fury ravages through me at the thought of Isabel. Apparently my thoughts mimic that of my imagined Catrina. She hated her so fully.
You were always mine. I was always yours. Our souls are the same. Black and tarnished.
Ignoring my maddening thoughts, I pull into my driveway and exit the vehicle. When I pop the trunk, it flings open and she flies out like a wild animal. Her green eyes—identical to her mother’s—are frantic. She’s frightened but also furious. The fury in her green orbs reminds me so much of her mother. It makes me pounce on her. I easily pin the slight girl in my arms. My nose runs along the side of her neck as I inhale her. She squirms and screams, but I ignore it.
“I’m keeping you,” I tell her. “It’s what’s owed to me.”
“Noooo!”
She kicks out when I carry her over to the door and we’re shoved back a few steps. With a growl, I turn and then push through sideways. When Helen drops the cup of coffee in her hands and it hits the floor with a shatter, I snarl at her.
“Mind your own business, woman.”
Her eyes widen in horror. “Mr. Heath.”
“So help me if you do anything other than your fucking job, which is to serve me until the day I die, I swear to you, I will drown you in the lake,” I yell.
The older woman flinches and scurries away. I drag my unwilling captive to the basement door. As soon as I open it, she detonates in my arms. Her flailing gets stronger and I almost drop her to her death. One false move and she’d go stumbling down the steps. Break her pretty little neck with one quick pop.
I prefer a lifetime of agony.
“Not that easy,” I growl against her hair as I force her into the darkness. We reach the bottom and it’s pitch-black. I blindly reach out for the light and flip it on. The light flickers and sputters, acting as though it’s about to go out. As I’m fumbling around looking for a box of lightbulbs to replace the dying one, she scrambles loose. I tackle her before she can get too far away. We hit the cold, hard dirty floor, knocking the wind out of us both.
“Help! Helen!” she screams. “Help!”
I manhandle her until her wrists are secured and my body pins her to the ground. Her sobs come next. I listen to each sound she makes and drink them in. The light flickers out. In the dark, she sounds like her.
“Heath,” she pleads through her tears.
So much like her.
So. Much. Like. Her.
Leaning forward, I run my tongue along the side of her neck. Her entire body goes still.
“I like your taste, Catrina,” I murmur.
“Heath,” she whimpers. “I’m not her.”
Pressing my lips to hers, I kiss her hard and dominating. She fights against my kiss and manages to nip my lip. Blood rushes out and I growl.
“No, you’re nothing like her,” I bite out. “But you’re still mine.”
Her terrified howls seem to sing to my vengeful, black heart.
I want all her screams.
I deserve them.
They’re mine.
Emily
Present…
“MOM!” I CRY OUT, HORRIFIED by the turn of the story. “This is awful! Why would he do such a thing?”
Her hand shakes as she pours another glass of wine. The ring that belonged to my grandmother catches the light and shines. She sips her wine and smiles at me. How could she be smiling after telling me this story? It’s horrible.
“He was an awful man,” she mutters. “That was an awful time.”
My phone buzzes. She laughs lightly and nods at it.
“You better answer that so we can finish our story,” she says.
With tears threatening, I snatch my phone up.
Finn has sent another picture. This one is of me. I’m asleep in the front seat of his car. My hair is a mess and my cheeks are sunburned. I have a book clutched to my chest. He wanted to fish a little longer, but I was beat after being at the lake all day. We argued and I told him I was going to sit in the car. He told me to have fun suffocating. It was hot, but I was determined to have the last word. I sat in the car until I fell asleep. He must have unknowingly taken my picture. When I woke, I found the car on and the air conditioning running.
Finn: I know you say you don’t date guys like me, but I don’t care. You’re my heart, angel. You have been since we were twelve years old and I found you skipping rocks on the lake.
He doesn’t mention how he pushed me in. I’d been so mad I pretended to drown. He dove in and saved me. I’d been smitten with the little asshole right then. We spent the next day, and every day after, teasing each other. Then, we were inseparable. It wasn’t until two years later that I realized our financial differences were something that set us apart. He was a have and I was a have not. I hated the way his parents flaunted money like it made them better than people like my parents. My parents are the best people in the world. I hate money and all it implies. So, by default, Finn gets shoved into that category. And if he wasn’t such an annoying, persistent brat, I would’ve stopped being friends with him long ago.
But he always shows up.
We don’t go to school together, but he always shows up to pick me up and cart me around places. I let him know at every chance that his stupid money won’t buy my affection and he just laughs at me.
“He loves you,” Mom says softly. “I think he always has.”
“Finn?” My entire body thrums.
Her smile widens. “Yes, Finn.”
A smile of my own tugs at my lips, but then I deflate as reality sets in.
“Mom, you of all people know what money does to people. It makes them vile and horrible and selfish. Your entire life story proves that. Finn Browning is loaded and he’s an asshole,” I grumble.
But he’s not. I know he’s not.
I can’t even lie to myself anymore.
Mom frowns. “Is that the message you’re getting from all this? That money determines who a person is inside?”
“Yeah,” I say. Duh.
Mom’s lips purse together. “Sweetheart, love doesn’t care about money one way or the other. What matters is how a person makes you feel.”
“Finn makes me feel angry sometimes,” I argue. That’s the truth.
“Your father makes me angry all the time.” She shakes her head and then sips her wine. “But he makes me feel. All of the emotions. All the time. There isn’t a dull moment with him. Just passion and fire always. I know you can’t see it, but I see how Finn pokes at you to get a rise. It’s because your eyes flare such a brilliant shade of green when you’re angry.”
I huff and gape at her.
“But when you’re sad and he makes you laugh, your eyes that shine with tears grow soft. Or when you’re frustrated and he helps you with something, relief and admiration shine in your gaze. Sweetie,” Mom says with a sigh. “He wants all those moments. You just have to let him in.”
I try not to think about how last week I was bummed about Porter ignoring my texts and Finn showed up in his ridiculous Maserati. He brought my favorite kind of pizza and some movies. While I brooded and pouted, he was quiet and allowed me to wallow in my rejection. But not alone. He was there. Like always.
Tears burn in my eyes and I feel a lump of emotion in my throat. I’ve been clinging to this thought that money was bad and it bred hate. All while ignoring my heart. That’s what I’ve been doing after all. Hardening my heart and protecting myself from the stinging rejection of not being good enough. Not rich enough. I wanted to be a step ahead.
A shudder wracks through me because it reminds me of something Heath would do. Blinking away my tears, I reply to Finn.
Me: Somet
imes the heart is confusing.
He replies immediately.
Finn: It’s the mind that’s confusing, angel. The heart always knows.
Speaking of hearts, mine patters in my chest.
Me: I’m sorry.
Before he can respond, Porter replies.
Porter: Panties? You never answered my question.
I cringe as I finally tap out a reply to him.
Me: Plans have changed. I can’t hang out.
No response. I’m not surprised. He’ll just call up some other girl instead. I used to let it bother me. Not tonight, though. Tonight, I’m excited for something different and familiar all at once. I’m excited to take a step. To see what happens. And if I screw it all up, I’ll deal with it when it happens. Until then, I’ll throw caution to the wind.
Finn: I’ll be in our spot. Come find me.
My heart does a flop in my chest. Our spot is on the dock at the lake. The same spot he chose to throw me into the water. The same spot I pretended to be dead and he frantically tried to give me CPR, giving me my first taste of a boy. The same spot I’d give him all kinds of hell. The same spot we’d share popsicles and smiles and secrets.
Our spot.
Me: I’ll be there. Just as soon as I finish talking to Mom.
Finn: I’ll be waiting. I always will.
When I look up, Mom’s smiling. “You ready to hear what happens next?”
Despite wanting to kick off my shoes and run all the way to the lake, I nod. I can’t get this deep into the story and stop now.
“I need to know what happened,” I tell her. “All the awful details. I can handle it.”
She pats my hand. “You can handle anything, sweetheart. You’re my daughter.”
Cat
Past…
HEATH HAS LOST HIS DAMN mind. Gone. It’s nowhere to be found. The light flickers back on and bathes us in its eerie glow. As he pulls his mouth away from mine, crimson dripping down his bottom lip, he wears a manic smile that tells me what little bit of sanity he might’ve had left has vanished. His finger comes up to his lip and he swipes at the blood before he sticks the tip of his finger into his mouth and sucks on it.