by Sara Cate
I groan again. Of course, Isaiah will be over this shit. Knowing Dad, he gave him guardianship of Kenz and me to his best friend. But, now that we’re eighteen, he can’t rule us. Mom and Dad’s house is paid off, and they weren’t hurting for money. They hadn’t been billionaire-level status like the ogre asshole, but they had done well.
My finger trails over the keypad of my messaging function, about to tell Kenz to share with Isaiah—to go get fucked, when the following text comes in.
The name, Douche Bag Asshole, lights up my screen, and now he’s located me.
Douche Bag Asshole: Get your ass back to my house. I have to go over the estate with you. And I know you’re a troublemaker, but make no mistake, I can fuck up your life, so there’s that. I expect you to be here in the next half hour, or you’ll regret it.
The man is narcissistic enough to use the death of my parents to his advantage. It’s one reason I hate Isaiah Woods, having nothing to do with the other reason I have yet to share with another soul. Only he and I know what it is, and that’s how it’ll remain.
I don’t, however, in this instance, have an upper hand to play. Isaiah knows it, and I’m beaten.
Me: Yeah, fuckface, I’m on my way.
And because I’m a glutton for punishment, I replay in my mind—the real reason we’re mortal enemies. And fuck does it hurt.
Isaiah’s house isn’t just a house. It’s a mansion, with one of his servants pulling back the front door for me upon exiting the Uber. His home is already decorated for Christmas. But I’m not festive. As a matter of fact, all the decorations of Mom’s, I’m tossing in the trash cans and could give a fuck what Kenzie thinks about it.
“Mr. Hanson, Mr. Woods is expecting you. He’s in his study with your sister.”
She’s not my fucking sister—is what is on the tip of my tongue, but I refrain from anything that could bring the fury of Isaiah down on me.
“Thank you. I’ll see my way there.” I know the layout of his house, probably better than I should. It’s not a stuffy mansion; though there’s very little life, you wouldn’t know someone was living here. Everything is white, with no personal effects on the walls.
My mom had pictures of Kenzie and me hung throughout the house. She had artwork from kindergarten displayed like we were fucking Picasso. And she always had plants and flowers around us. Partially because Dad was such a sap when it came to her. He brought home fresh flowers each week, and every time, she reacted as if she were shocked by one of his many forms of affection.
The point: our house was lived in. It was undoubtedly never messy—Mom wouldn’t have that—but still, it was full of love and devotion for one another. Unless you’re talking about Kenzie and me, and well, we were never one for affection for the other.
I round the stark hallway corner to the very white office, with, of course, white furnishings in the space. “Ah, good, you joined us. Have a seat, why don’t you. We have a lot to discuss.” The voice of the asswipe has no emotions behind it.
“Yeah, I’m sure we do. So, what aspect of this estate are you going to try to control?” I slide in next to Kenzie on the love seat across from Isaiah.
My eyes stay transfixed on his mouth as it turns upward into a large grin. I’ve rarely seen the guy smile unless he’d been with my dad talking about sports. This is as if he’s about to enjoy crushing my world, and because he’s done it once, I can sense the signs.
Isaiah lets out a long and loud breath. “It just so happens, your dad made me executor of the estate, and in that way, I’m responsible for you financially until you’re able to gain control over your inheritance.”
“Wait.” Kenzie leans forward. “Mom and Dad weren’t like you, but they’d been well off. Why do we need your money?”
He steeples his hands together. “Ah, you misunderstood me. It’s your money. But Robert didn’t want to give two eighteen year olds half a million dollars each. He’s asked me to monitor it, allowing you both a monthly allotment, and of course, college will be paid for.”
Sure, the man will have ties to us financially, but I’ll work with the small amount of money we’ll be given to live on each month since not only is he rich as fuck, he’s stingy, too.
“Okay, that’s not so bad. Can the estate pay for the utilities of the house until we leave for college?” Kenzie begins. “The house is paid off. Both of our cars are paid for. Besides food and clothes, and car insurance, we should be okay.”
Her head whips to mine as if it’s a question to me and needs validation. “I guess it depends on what the jackass gives us, really,” I reply to Kenz, and it’s the first conversation we’ve had since before Mom and Dad died.
“About the house,” Isaiah begins. “I’ve had my realtor look it over. The market is on such a great climb; we expect it to even out in the next couple of months. But you two could get almost three hundred thousand dollars more if you sell now. It’s a great opportunity.”
Now the man sounds like the typical it’s all about the bottom line kind of ass he is.
“Kenz, I say we wait. Unless we move into an apartment, but I don’t know if I’m willing to let go of Mom and Dad now.”
Her mouth is halfway open, and Isaiah clears his throat. “I’m sorry, you two. You misunderstood me again. This isn’t up for debate. Your father put me in charge of looking out for your best interests, this being one of them. The house goes up on the market tomorrow.”
I’m out of my seat, my fists on his immaculate desk.
“But,” the small voice of Kenzie is behind me, “where will we go?”
His stare is on me and me alone. “It’s simple; I have more than enough room. You’ll just move in here.”
The lips I’ve had nightmares about so many times quirk up into the kind of smile when he’s either got his way or is amused. It’s a little bit of both right now, but he’s got us where he wants us. Desperate and without many choices.
Chapter 3
Isaiah
It doesn’t bring me joy to destroy these kids. It may bring me some jovial amusement to mess with these two a little. But honestly, I’m doing what I think is best for Riv and Kenz. First of all, River can’t be trusted without the guidance of an adult. He may be eighteen, but the little fucker is a loose cannon. I know this firsthand.
Kenzie can be trusted. However, she’s a little more impressionable and could be easily manipulated.
I’m not lying when I know we can get at least three hundred thousand dollars more for the house, rather than waiting a year. Plus, I can keep an eye on them, as their father had asked, in the last couple of minutes of his life.
Shannon died on impact of the tractor-trailer hitting their car. I arrived at the hospital ten minutes before Robert took his last breath. He didn’t want Kenzie or River to have their last memories of him dying. The hospital called me instantly, and as I promised, I’ll look after both.
Having River in my presence from day to day may honestly kill me. It sure as fuck will test my self-restraint. However, I haven’t missed how Kenzie’s full breasts fill out a tight sweater and skirt.
This is just one reason I’m going to Hell.
“It’s simple; I have more than enough room.” I don’t believe my own words. It’s not simple. Simple is the last thing any of this will be, but then again, I’ve never backed down from a challenge. “You’ll just move in here.”
What is the challenge in this instance? Is it making sure Kenzie and River can process their grief correctly? And having their physical needs met? Not wanting to control them or dominating them? Keeping it in my pants?
Yeah, the list goes on and on.
“But, the house. I’m not ready to let it go, and I assume it’s the same with River. It has too many memories of Mom and Dad in it.” This is a plea by Kenzie.
They don’t know I was with Robert when he died. I won’t share this either because it’ll only hurt.
“You don’t even like us.” Again, this is Kenzie. And she’s never
been so far from the truth in her life.
“Kenz, this is my way. I have control of your finances until the age of twenty-five. And I’m giving you more money, in your trust, with the sale of the house. So, maybe you should be grateful instead of being a brat.”
When I’m challenged, I’m an asshole. I just don’t know what other way to be.
I’ve tried to ignore River, who stands in front of me, his hands on my new white desk.
“You don’t talk to her like that, asshole. Kenzie just buried our parents today, and now we have to deal with your mind fucks.”
River rarely backs down from a fight, but he’s never won against me either.
Tears pool in Kenzie’s eyes, and again, I don’t relish in this. I can’t see her hurt. She looks just like her mother, Tanya. And because I loved that woman, I can’t hurt Kenzie.
“Why are you my godfather? You’ve never liked me, and now you’re what, going to demean us, to make a point?” Kenzie’s voice is so shaky, but then again, I love it a little shaky, with her vulnerability. The sadness painted on her young face causes so much pain that I want to hurt someone for her grief. All of this is a contradiction, a cycle I’ve created for myself.
It’s a vicious cycle, but I tend to be a glutton for punishment, as they think I am in turn, punishing them. But I’m not. After all, I’m only doing what I know is best for the kids in the long run. Also, having them near me won’t be a hardship. Controlling my desires will be, however.
I have a plan, and none of it consists of them being a part of my secret desires. But I’ll enjoy, in my own twisted way, watching them flourish under my control. This is for Robert and Tanya and the little girl they loved in every way. Along with Shannon, who I adored after Robert and she married.
“You may not think this, either of you, but I’m doing what I know is best for you.”
River is still over my desk, but an ear-pitching chortle leaves his lips this time, and I have to double-check it’s him and not Kenzie. “You’re so fucking arrogant. You don’t even say I’m doing what I think is best. You don’t know us, and yet you claim this is for our own good.”
My eyebrows instinctively raise at his words. “I think we both know. I know you, boy.”
River’s face, all the way to his ears, turns a bright crimson color. Is he embarrassed, or is he angry?
Either way, I achieved what I’ve wanted—River is distracted. My focus turns to Kenzie, her eyes swinging back and forth from River and me. “And you, Kenzie Grace Hanson. I held you just hours after you were born. I stayed with you when Tanya was rushed back to the hospital. It was a complication from after you both were released.”
I’d been attentive to her up to her snotty teen ways. She has always been a little entitled. Her dad made up for Tanya dying, though Shannon was a fierce mother to Kenz. I’m entitled, too, only because I built my empire from the ground up. Kenz came into this world when I was twenty-two, and I barely had two pennies to my name.
I don’t understand how her mere presence has my body reacting as it does when she’s around, which is yet another reason I’ve kept my distance as she’s grown older.
“You used to call me Uncle I.” And it’s a good thing I’m hidden by my desk because they can’t see how my body reacts to their mere presence. “Listen, guys, it’ll be like you’re at home, with the exception that my staff is here to assist you with anything you need. I know it’s not what you want, but I have movers booked to pack up your rooms tomorrow.”
River rotates his body and begins toward the door, only to stop abruptly. He’s still turned away from me as his hand connects to the wall.
“You most likely will hurt your hand before you hurt my walls. But if you do, I’ll take that out of your monthly allotment.”
River’s stature is long and lean, with his share of muscle mass accentuating what all women want in a man or a boy in this case. He bares his teeth. His curses are meant to provoke me. “You’re such a shithead. You want to punish me. Okay, I get that, but why bring Kenzie into your little game?” He slams his open hand on the same spot on the wall, and Kenzie swings her attention back to her stepbrother. “And you forget, we just buried our parents, asshole. We won’t take on another change.”
I push from the desk. My rogue member obeys himself behind my zipper. “I haven’t forgotten you buried your parents. I don’t want you at home, ignoring each other, in your rooms, as you’ve done your whole life. You need structure. And I can ensure you both stay on track to graduate.”
“You want to control us through our parents’ money they left to us?” It comes out as a question from Kenzie, but I understand it’s an accusation.
“To the contrary of what you both think, I want to help you. You’ve been through a traumatic event. All of this will torture me. Checking in on you daily is one way I can guarantee you’re safe.”
I’m not doing this all out of the bottom of my heart. This is for Robert. There’s no doubt in that, but truth be told, even though it’s the worst type of torture I can endure, I want them with me. I’m a caretaker first and foremost. Those closest to me have my ever-ending loyalty. It breaks my hardened heart—and let’s face it, my heart is as dark as it can get. But, with these two, they can’t grieve on their own. In the darkness that lives in me, I may get off having this domination over them, though it’s necessary.
“You’re a fucker who wants their way and gets off controlling people.”
Well, fuck, he certainly knows me. River’s accusations are not subtle.
“Ah, but you know there are times in my life when I don’t get my way.” Only because I have more respect for my best friend than I do my own selfish desires.
My eyes are locked on River and no one else when hands slam on my desk, yet again.
“What the fuck is going on with you two? You can’t drop these angsty hints and not expect me to wonder.” Kenzie’s body is placed to the side where she can see both of us.
River’s face turns to Kenzie where she’s demanding answers. My own cock twitches when River’s scowl, aimed my way, turns into a crooked smirk.
“Leave it for the men, why don’t you?” he snaps at her, still the cocky grin on his face.
“Ah, that’s where we differ, River. There’s only one man in the room, and you’re looking at him.” This is too good, and I can’t resist. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, boy.”
“Go get fucked, Isaiah.”
He’s out of the room. This boy keeps on making it too fucking easy for me.
“Riv, that’s all you got, buddy? I thought I’d get a little more angst from your loudmouth.” His heavy footsteps stop outside of my room, and I’m waiting for him to say something. I know he’s listening. “Face it, kid, you’re beat. You know it, and I know it. Even Kenzie knows it. So, you have until June living at my house, then you’re off to California. So if I were you, I’d be the good little boy I know you are and do what you’re told.”
Kenzie continues to stare at me, and my attention is now on her. “The same can be said for you. Be a good girl. You don’t want to fight me on this.”
“You’re a prick and a monster.”
I let out a laugh at Kenzie’s words. Understanding both kids will be safe under my roof, and if they think I’m a prick and a monster, then I’m okay with this.
“I hope you choke on your dinner tonight.”
She’s at the door, and I notice the short black skirt that sits right under her ass. How did I just now realize it was so short? She can’t tease anyone in that way. I make a mental note about appropriate clothing, and I push back. Robert may disagree with my methods, but the man knew me. He begged me to take care of his kids, and it’s precisely what I plan to do.
I pull out the album I keep in a locked drawer in my desk. It’s Robert, Tanya, and myself. Her eyes are locked on Robert’s, as mine is on Tanya. Lucky bastard. He got the girl. Not just one real love, but two, after he married Shannon, who he loved as much as Tanya.
> Today has me teetering from compassion, to hate along with the countless number of emotions in between. I can’t pinpoint what I want. No, that’s not entirely true. I want what I can’t have. It’s what I’ve denied myself for so long, since pushing the kids out of my life. Now, they will be immersed in my day-to-day activities, and I’m not sure what I’ll do.
I’m positive about one thing. My life will never be the same.
My gaze stays on the picture for a long time until the tears spill from my eyes, at the two lives cut too fucking short.
Chapter 4
River
I haven’t left my room since returning from the funeral. I don’t plan to. The realtor can show the house around me while lying in bed. I’ll make the place as unlivable as it can be, and they’ll have to move me in my bed.
When there’s a knock on my door, I ignore it. I haven’t heard from Kenzie. We never talked when Mom and Dad were still alive, so why would we start now?
The knocks continue, and it could be Kenzie with how annoying she is. Life is anything but typical, and her level of annoyance has just gone up in my book.
“Go away.”
The knob turns, and a stranger slams the door open. A thirty-something with an overly made-up face, way too fake for me, walks past the threshold of my door.
“Oh, good, you’re awake. Mr. Woods has the movers here to pack up your and your sister’s rooms. He told me to ask, and these are his words verbatim. ‘Do you want your shit packed up and sent to his house, or do we need to move it to storage until you can come up with arrangements on your own? And remember, your allowance will not be enough to cover rent and such.’”
I take in her tight dress, about a size too small for her. It’s bright pink along with what has to be four-inch heels matching her outfit. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this was real estate Barbie in front of me.
“Who the hell are you?” I know she’s his agent, ready to sell the house, but I can have some fun stalling the bitch.