Pretty Little Things
Page 3
I shook my head as I sat up farther and ran my hand over the ridges of my abdominal muscles. “Is Grace making breakfast?”
Annie snorted and then laughed at herself. “She did an hour ago.”
I groaned, and she rolled her eyes.
“I woke up late too. I had her save our plates, but you may want to get dressed. Amanda stopped by. You’re welcome.” She grinned and pushed from the bed.
“Fuck.” I fell back and pressed the palms of my hands against my eyes as she left the room. I felt like shit, and I probably looked worse. “Take off my damn shirt,” I yelled after her.
I pushed from my bed, glancing at the full-length mirror on the opposing wall. Working out had become one of the few ways to deal with my growing aggression, and the results were proof that I harbored a lot of rage. My muscles were cut, and I barely had any excess fat, but I still wanted to be bigger, stronger. I was glad my scars only marred my back, and I wasn’t forced to look at the physical manifestation of my sins and my early reluctance to obey Taylor.
I turned on the radio and sang along to “Outside” by Staind as I shoved down my boxer briefs, kicking them off on the floor. I made my way into my bathroom, turning on the light above the sink but leaving the one in the shower stall off to spare myself the harsh light. The water didn’t take long to heat up, and I slid under the spray, closing the fogged glass door behind me.
I dumped liquid body wash in the palm of my hand and rubbed the soap over my chest and down my stomach as I begged for the adrenaline of my nightmares to subside. My hand dipped lower, knowing there was only one way to make those memories fade, and I wasn’t proud of that fact. I gripped my dick, squeezing hard as my hand slid slowly up and down my length. I rested my forehead against the damp sandstone tile and closed my eyes, hoping I could find some sort of release.
The song ended, and waiting for the next to start was quickly killing my mood. Nine Inch Nails faded in through the speakers that were embedded above the shower stall, and I began to stroke myself faster as I pictured small, perky tits with light-pink pebbled ni**les. I licked my lips as I focused on the faceless vision, my eyes traveling down a tight stomach while my fingers slipped over my head and back against the base of my cock. I panted, water droplets falling from my lips as I imagined it was swollen pink lips wrapped around me, sucking as my fist gripped her hair, tiny moans in the back of her throat vibrating and nearly sending me over the edge as I pushed her closer, touching the back of her throat with my dick.
“Ah…” I groaned over the music. I imagined her moaning my name, begging for me to come in her pretty little mouth.
“Colin?” Annie’s voice came from inside my room.
“Fuck,” I growled, but I was too close to be able to stop myself as my stomach muscles tightened.
“Colin?” she called again as she got closer, and it sent me over the edge.
“Fuck, Annie,” I panted as I came, struggling to catch my breath as I stared at her emerald eyes through the fogged glass door. She didn’t move for a moment, her lips parted in complete shock and breathing as erratically as me.
“Your shirt,” she whispered as it fell from her fingertips, pooling at her feet, and her eyes locked on mine.
“Leave,” I barked. My words jarred her, and she ran from my room.
I took my time drying off and getting dressed, not wanting to look Annie in the eye after what she had witnessed. I couldn’t get the image of her out of my head.
I stumbled down the stairs in a black T-shirt and jeans, greeted by Amanda at the base of the steps. We’d been seeing each other for a few weeks. I kissed her cheeks as my eyes searched out Annie. She was standing in the doorway of the dining room wearing the low-cut purple V-neck from last night. Her blatant act of defiance struck a nerve deep inside of me, and she knew it. She was f**king with me.
“I’d watch for pieces of glass in your eggs. Grace isn’t very happy with you,” Annie teased, and I was relieved she wasn’t traumatized by what she had witnessed moments before.
“I told your sister I’d help her cover up that bruise after we ate. She really shouldn’t be allowed to walk in heels.” Amanda stood on her toes to kiss my cheek as I glanced behind me at Annie again, with her tarnished complexion and her still bare feet from last night.
“Just don’t paint her up. She doesn’t need all that shit on her face.” I tried to keep the harshness from my tone, but when it came to Annie, my judgment became clouded.
Amanda smacked my chest playfully, but she always wore more makeup than I liked. Most of it stemmed from her being self-conscious. Not that it mattered. She suited my needs.
I walked around Amanda and sat down at the large, ornately carved dining room table that looked like something right out of a castle. Connor was frivolous with his cash, something I would have to spend years correcting should his fortune ever get handed down to his pretend children.
Grace set my plate down with more force than necessary as she narrowed her eyes, accentuating the crow’s-feet in her olive skin.
“Grace,” I called after her as she retreated into the kitchen. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. It slipped.”
“Mm-hmm,” was all she said as she disappeared. At nearly sixty years old, she had no patience for my bullshit. Her snow-colored hair was pinned up in a neat bun. She wore a gray dress made out of what looked like burlap, with a white apron tied around her waist. I’d never seen her in anything else.
The woman must have aged twenty years from putting up with our bullshit. Connor had hired her only a week after he took us in; never having children of his own, he wanted Annie to have a woman around. Grace was more of a grandmother figure, and she played the role like one off a sitcom.
Amanda sat down beside me, her denim skirt riding up her thighs as she stole a piece of my toast and took a bite. Her hair was even blonder than the last time I’d seen her, and I wondered how many more trips to the salon before it was whiter than Grace’s. “I love that shirt,” Amanda said to Annie. I couldn’t help but laugh as I glanced over at her, and she winked, proving her point about my choice of women.
I folded my hands in front of me and looked to Annie, who dropped her fork on her plate and clasped her hands together, annoyed but knowing better than to say so. This was a ritual that carried over from our past and was so ingrained in who I was that I would continue to do it, regardless of my feelings, or lack thereof, toward the commune.
“Dear Lord, thank you for this wonderful food and shelter you have provided us. We ask you, Lord, to help Annie fight back against the evil staircase and to protect her from any other inanimate objects that may bring harm her way, and Lord, please bless her with some clothes that actually fit her.”
“Asshole,” Annie groaned, and I tried to fight back a smile, clearing my throat as I opened my eyes. I shoved a bite of scrambled eggs in my mouth, relieved that Grace hadn’t actually put any glass shards in my food, although I couldn’t have blamed her.
I could hear Connor coughing off in the distance as he made his way to the first floor, the stairs creaking under his expanding weight. We glanced back at him as he entered the dining room, taking a seat at the head of the table. My eyes drifted over his charcoal suit, and I shook my head. “You’re going to work?” I asked, knowing he was too sick, but the man had priorities, I had to give him that.
He cleared his throat as Grace brought in a mug of coffee and set it down in front of him. “Thank you, dear.” He picked it up and took a sip before his eyes landed on mine. “Someone needs to pay for all of this stuff. I have cases that are piling up.” But I knew he had become obsessive with his work when his wife had passed away nearly twenty years ago. He had confessed to me one night, not long after we arrived, that helping others helped ebb the guilt from not being able to do more for her as cancer slowly destroyed their lives.
“It wouldn’t kill you to take a few days off, Connor. Enjoy life a little.” I took a sip of my orange juice, my head still throbbing from my hangover. I’d tried, unsuccessfully, for months to get him to take a vacation. He deserved it for putting up with us for the last few years. The man was a saint. I wanted to help him in any way I could, but he wouldn’t budge.
“I’ll be in Jackson for Annie’s birthday. I need you to keep an eye on the house. Don’t let things get too out of hand.” He changed the subject as the girls continued to eat their food.
“I’m sure Grace will keep everyone in line. No one can put the fear of God into someone like she can,” I joked.
“Except for you.” Connor was expressionless as he glanced at me over the rim of his cup, and my eyes narrowed. He didn’t know the half of it.
“I don’t get paid nearly enough for that task,” Grace teased as she sat in one of the empty chairs with a bowl of oatmeal for herself and a freshly sliced peach on a saucer. “I’ll be going with him to make sure he’s getting plenty of rest and taking his medicine. I better not come back to a mess, ya hear?” She took care of Connor like he was her husband, but their relationship was strictly platonic, even though it would do them both some good to enjoy life a little. Still, it made me smile to know she was spending extra time with him, even if it was because of the flu.
“We’ll keep the party low-key. Just a few friends.” I laughed as I shook my head, knowing it would be out of control. Everyone at Annie’s school, West Haven Private Academy, was dying to get inside our house, as well as everyone from Dyer Public.
“What party? I don’t want a party. I’m not leaving this house until my bruise goes away. I look hideous.” Annie rolled her eyes as she scrunched her nose.
“Oh, honey. You have to have a party. The town will be talking about it the rest of the year. The Blakelys are royalty.” Amanda was grinning as she clasped her hands together in front of her teal polo shirt. No doubt she was thinking of the day I would ask her to marry me so she could be one of the elite. She would be waiting a long f**king time. She was oblivious to the circumstances that had brought us into this lavish estate or the endless line of women who filed through the door.
“The party is happening, and you don’t need to worry about leaving the house because we’re having it here.” I raised my eyebrow at Annie. She glanced up at me and looked back down at her plate. Her cheeks tinged pink next to the purple mark. I knew she had thought we had forgotten.
“What happened to your face?” Annie looked at me before looking to Connor, who was leaning toward her, his elbows on either side of his plate. He was just as overprotective of her as I was, and I was glad I wouldn’t carry the burden of keeping her safe alone.
“I slipped going up the stairs.”
“You are as graceful as a newborn fawn,” he joked, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes as his gaze fell to me questioningly. It was a fair judgment on his part. He cared for us equally, but I could take care of myself.
“Being chased by a lion,” she muttered as she glared up at me, and I shook my head, trying not to laugh.
I cleared my throat as I pushed my eggs around my plate. “I thought you needed to go to Jasper for the Raymond case? It’s a slam dunk with the doctor’s deposition.”
Connor looked up at me, his eyes settling on Amanda momentarily. “This is a…private matter.”
I sat straight up as I clenched my jaw and avoided Annie’s questioning stare as I shoveled a bite of food into my mouth. I swallowed hard as I chose my words carefully. “I should go with you. I can’t learn the business if you don’t let me tag along every once in a while.”
Connor laughed nervously as he wiped his mouth with the crimson cloth napkin. “You need to be here for Annabel’s party. It’s a big day. You’ll get your chance soon enough.” He smiled warmly over at Annie, who had her eyebrows drawn together. “Well, I should get my bags together. Grace?” He coughed as he pushed his chair back.
“I’ll be right up.” Grace collected her dishes and carried them into the kitchen as I ran my hand roughly over my jaw. “Ya’ll better go on and get ready. You don’t want to be late for church. God sees everything.” Even knowing about our past, Grace refused to let us blame God. From the first day she arrived, she told us stories from the Bible and how God had given her so much even though we were her only family. Her positive outlook in even the bleakest situations baffled me, but I admired her for it.
“Wouldn’t want that.” Annie rolled her eyes as she stood and stretched. I’d never met a girl as stubborn as her and so dead set on being defiant; it was almost adorable if it wasn’t so damn infuriating.
“I’ll grab my makeup bag from the car.” Amanda stood and bounded down the hall to the front door.
“You’re not going to church in that outfit.” I drummed my fingers against the wooden table as she got up and walked behind me toward the stairs.
“Who’s going to stop me?” she whispered as she continued by.
“Annabel, wait.” She paused as I pushed from my seat and walked toward her, sipping my orange juice as I approached her. “We need to clear something up.”
Her eyebrows pulled together, and I knew her mind was replaying her walking into my bathroom because her cheeks flushed and her gaze fell.
“What I meant to say was change your f**king clothes now.” I tilted the glass toward her, and she shrieked as the cold liquid soaked through her shirt onto her skin.
“You son of a bitch!”
Thirty minutes later, Annie came from her room in a sensible white button-up blouse and black pencil skirt. Her hair was curled perfectly down her back, and there were no traces of the bruise on her face.
Annie snorted and then laughed at herself. “She did an hour ago.”
I groaned, and she rolled her eyes.
“I woke up late too. I had her save our plates, but you may want to get dressed. Amanda stopped by. You’re welcome.” She grinned and pushed from the bed.
“Fuck.” I fell back and pressed the palms of my hands against my eyes as she left the room. I felt like shit, and I probably looked worse. “Take off my damn shirt,” I yelled after her.
I pushed from my bed, glancing at the full-length mirror on the opposing wall. Working out had become one of the few ways to deal with my growing aggression, and the results were proof that I harbored a lot of rage. My muscles were cut, and I barely had any excess fat, but I still wanted to be bigger, stronger. I was glad my scars only marred my back, and I wasn’t forced to look at the physical manifestation of my sins and my early reluctance to obey Taylor.
I turned on the radio and sang along to “Outside” by Staind as I shoved down my boxer briefs, kicking them off on the floor. I made my way into my bathroom, turning on the light above the sink but leaving the one in the shower stall off to spare myself the harsh light. The water didn’t take long to heat up, and I slid under the spray, closing the fogged glass door behind me.
I dumped liquid body wash in the palm of my hand and rubbed the soap over my chest and down my stomach as I begged for the adrenaline of my nightmares to subside. My hand dipped lower, knowing there was only one way to make those memories fade, and I wasn’t proud of that fact. I gripped my dick, squeezing hard as my hand slid slowly up and down my length. I rested my forehead against the damp sandstone tile and closed my eyes, hoping I could find some sort of release.
The song ended, and waiting for the next to start was quickly killing my mood. Nine Inch Nails faded in through the speakers that were embedded above the shower stall, and I began to stroke myself faster as I pictured small, perky tits with light-pink pebbled ni**les. I licked my lips as I focused on the faceless vision, my eyes traveling down a tight stomach while my fingers slipped over my head and back against the base of my cock. I panted, water droplets falling from my lips as I imagined it was swollen pink lips wrapped around me, sucking as my fist gripped her hair, tiny moans in the back of her throat vibrating and nearly sending me over the edge as I pushed her closer, touching the back of her throat with my dick.
“Ah…” I groaned over the music. I imagined her moaning my name, begging for me to come in her pretty little mouth.
“Colin?” Annie’s voice came from inside my room.
“Fuck,” I growled, but I was too close to be able to stop myself as my stomach muscles tightened.
“Colin?” she called again as she got closer, and it sent me over the edge.
“Fuck, Annie,” I panted as I came, struggling to catch my breath as I stared at her emerald eyes through the fogged glass door. She didn’t move for a moment, her lips parted in complete shock and breathing as erratically as me.
“Your shirt,” she whispered as it fell from her fingertips, pooling at her feet, and her eyes locked on mine.
“Leave,” I barked. My words jarred her, and she ran from my room.
I took my time drying off and getting dressed, not wanting to look Annie in the eye after what she had witnessed. I couldn’t get the image of her out of my head.
I stumbled down the stairs in a black T-shirt and jeans, greeted by Amanda at the base of the steps. We’d been seeing each other for a few weeks. I kissed her cheeks as my eyes searched out Annie. She was standing in the doorway of the dining room wearing the low-cut purple V-neck from last night. Her blatant act of defiance struck a nerve deep inside of me, and she knew it. She was f**king with me.
“I’d watch for pieces of glass in your eggs. Grace isn’t very happy with you,” Annie teased, and I was relieved she wasn’t traumatized by what she had witnessed moments before.
“I told your sister I’d help her cover up that bruise after we ate. She really shouldn’t be allowed to walk in heels.” Amanda stood on her toes to kiss my cheek as I glanced behind me at Annie again, with her tarnished complexion and her still bare feet from last night.
“Just don’t paint her up. She doesn’t need all that shit on her face.” I tried to keep the harshness from my tone, but when it came to Annie, my judgment became clouded.
Amanda smacked my chest playfully, but she always wore more makeup than I liked. Most of it stemmed from her being self-conscious. Not that it mattered. She suited my needs.
I walked around Amanda and sat down at the large, ornately carved dining room table that looked like something right out of a castle. Connor was frivolous with his cash, something I would have to spend years correcting should his fortune ever get handed down to his pretend children.
Grace set my plate down with more force than necessary as she narrowed her eyes, accentuating the crow’s-feet in her olive skin.
“Grace,” I called after her as she retreated into the kitchen. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. It slipped.”
“Mm-hmm,” was all she said as she disappeared. At nearly sixty years old, she had no patience for my bullshit. Her snow-colored hair was pinned up in a neat bun. She wore a gray dress made out of what looked like burlap, with a white apron tied around her waist. I’d never seen her in anything else.
The woman must have aged twenty years from putting up with our bullshit. Connor had hired her only a week after he took us in; never having children of his own, he wanted Annie to have a woman around. Grace was more of a grandmother figure, and she played the role like one off a sitcom.
Amanda sat down beside me, her denim skirt riding up her thighs as she stole a piece of my toast and took a bite. Her hair was even blonder than the last time I’d seen her, and I wondered how many more trips to the salon before it was whiter than Grace’s. “I love that shirt,” Amanda said to Annie. I couldn’t help but laugh as I glanced over at her, and she winked, proving her point about my choice of women.
I folded my hands in front of me and looked to Annie, who dropped her fork on her plate and clasped her hands together, annoyed but knowing better than to say so. This was a ritual that carried over from our past and was so ingrained in who I was that I would continue to do it, regardless of my feelings, or lack thereof, toward the commune.
“Dear Lord, thank you for this wonderful food and shelter you have provided us. We ask you, Lord, to help Annie fight back against the evil staircase and to protect her from any other inanimate objects that may bring harm her way, and Lord, please bless her with some clothes that actually fit her.”
“Asshole,” Annie groaned, and I tried to fight back a smile, clearing my throat as I opened my eyes. I shoved a bite of scrambled eggs in my mouth, relieved that Grace hadn’t actually put any glass shards in my food, although I couldn’t have blamed her.
I could hear Connor coughing off in the distance as he made his way to the first floor, the stairs creaking under his expanding weight. We glanced back at him as he entered the dining room, taking a seat at the head of the table. My eyes drifted over his charcoal suit, and I shook my head. “You’re going to work?” I asked, knowing he was too sick, but the man had priorities, I had to give him that.
He cleared his throat as Grace brought in a mug of coffee and set it down in front of him. “Thank you, dear.” He picked it up and took a sip before his eyes landed on mine. “Someone needs to pay for all of this stuff. I have cases that are piling up.” But I knew he had become obsessive with his work when his wife had passed away nearly twenty years ago. He had confessed to me one night, not long after we arrived, that helping others helped ebb the guilt from not being able to do more for her as cancer slowly destroyed their lives.
“It wouldn’t kill you to take a few days off, Connor. Enjoy life a little.” I took a sip of my orange juice, my head still throbbing from my hangover. I’d tried, unsuccessfully, for months to get him to take a vacation. He deserved it for putting up with us for the last few years. The man was a saint. I wanted to help him in any way I could, but he wouldn’t budge.
“I’ll be in Jackson for Annie’s birthday. I need you to keep an eye on the house. Don’t let things get too out of hand.” He changed the subject as the girls continued to eat their food.
“I’m sure Grace will keep everyone in line. No one can put the fear of God into someone like she can,” I joked.
“Except for you.” Connor was expressionless as he glanced at me over the rim of his cup, and my eyes narrowed. He didn’t know the half of it.
“I don’t get paid nearly enough for that task,” Grace teased as she sat in one of the empty chairs with a bowl of oatmeal for herself and a freshly sliced peach on a saucer. “I’ll be going with him to make sure he’s getting plenty of rest and taking his medicine. I better not come back to a mess, ya hear?” She took care of Connor like he was her husband, but their relationship was strictly platonic, even though it would do them both some good to enjoy life a little. Still, it made me smile to know she was spending extra time with him, even if it was because of the flu.
“We’ll keep the party low-key. Just a few friends.” I laughed as I shook my head, knowing it would be out of control. Everyone at Annie’s school, West Haven Private Academy, was dying to get inside our house, as well as everyone from Dyer Public.
“What party? I don’t want a party. I’m not leaving this house until my bruise goes away. I look hideous.” Annie rolled her eyes as she scrunched her nose.
“Oh, honey. You have to have a party. The town will be talking about it the rest of the year. The Blakelys are royalty.” Amanda was grinning as she clasped her hands together in front of her teal polo shirt. No doubt she was thinking of the day I would ask her to marry me so she could be one of the elite. She would be waiting a long f**king time. She was oblivious to the circumstances that had brought us into this lavish estate or the endless line of women who filed through the door.
“The party is happening, and you don’t need to worry about leaving the house because we’re having it here.” I raised my eyebrow at Annie. She glanced up at me and looked back down at her plate. Her cheeks tinged pink next to the purple mark. I knew she had thought we had forgotten.
“What happened to your face?” Annie looked at me before looking to Connor, who was leaning toward her, his elbows on either side of his plate. He was just as overprotective of her as I was, and I was glad I wouldn’t carry the burden of keeping her safe alone.
“I slipped going up the stairs.”
“You are as graceful as a newborn fawn,” he joked, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes as his gaze fell to me questioningly. It was a fair judgment on his part. He cared for us equally, but I could take care of myself.
“Being chased by a lion,” she muttered as she glared up at me, and I shook my head, trying not to laugh.
I cleared my throat as I pushed my eggs around my plate. “I thought you needed to go to Jasper for the Raymond case? It’s a slam dunk with the doctor’s deposition.”
Connor looked up at me, his eyes settling on Amanda momentarily. “This is a…private matter.”
I sat straight up as I clenched my jaw and avoided Annie’s questioning stare as I shoveled a bite of food into my mouth. I swallowed hard as I chose my words carefully. “I should go with you. I can’t learn the business if you don’t let me tag along every once in a while.”
Connor laughed nervously as he wiped his mouth with the crimson cloth napkin. “You need to be here for Annabel’s party. It’s a big day. You’ll get your chance soon enough.” He smiled warmly over at Annie, who had her eyebrows drawn together. “Well, I should get my bags together. Grace?” He coughed as he pushed his chair back.
“I’ll be right up.” Grace collected her dishes and carried them into the kitchen as I ran my hand roughly over my jaw. “Ya’ll better go on and get ready. You don’t want to be late for church. God sees everything.” Even knowing about our past, Grace refused to let us blame God. From the first day she arrived, she told us stories from the Bible and how God had given her so much even though we were her only family. Her positive outlook in even the bleakest situations baffled me, but I admired her for it.
“Wouldn’t want that.” Annie rolled her eyes as she stood and stretched. I’d never met a girl as stubborn as her and so dead set on being defiant; it was almost adorable if it wasn’t so damn infuriating.
“I’ll grab my makeup bag from the car.” Amanda stood and bounded down the hall to the front door.
“You’re not going to church in that outfit.” I drummed my fingers against the wooden table as she got up and walked behind me toward the stairs.
“Who’s going to stop me?” she whispered as she continued by.
“Annabel, wait.” She paused as I pushed from my seat and walked toward her, sipping my orange juice as I approached her. “We need to clear something up.”
Her eyebrows pulled together, and I knew her mind was replaying her walking into my bathroom because her cheeks flushed and her gaze fell.
“What I meant to say was change your f**king clothes now.” I tilted the glass toward her, and she shrieked as the cold liquid soaked through her shirt onto her skin.
“You son of a bitch!”
Thirty minutes later, Annie came from her room in a sensible white button-up blouse and black pencil skirt. Her hair was curled perfectly down her back, and there were no traces of the bruise on her face.
