Payton
Iwake up feeling like I’ve been hit by a truck. Literally, everything hurts. There is a very distinct throbbing behind my eyes, but that pain somehow radiates throughout my entire body. My limbs are stiff, and a groan passes between my lips when I try to move.
Then I become aware of another feeling. Warmth. I’m so warm and… naked?
My eyes blink open, and I take in my surroundings in shock. Last night’s events come crashing down on me like a landslide at the bottom of a mountain.
“Good morning, tiny dancer,” Cash greets, his voice gravely and laced with sleep. His arm is draped over my midsection like it belongs there. To make matters worse, his brother is on my other side, his hand resting on my hip.
I can feel my cheeks burning and know he can see. He probably thinks it’s funny that he made me orgasm last night. What would he think if he knew that was the first time I’d ever let a man touch me that way? Not that I had a choice, not really.
But I wanted it, too. My face burns even hotter. What does that say about me? I didn’t even try to fight him off, him or Kane. I opened my legs wider to give him room to touch me. My body ached for him, for both of them. If they’d stopped, I might’ve cried.
Who am I? A murderer, and now a depraved sex maniac.
That doesn’t make it easier to lie here, exposed and helpless.
“Good morning.” It sounds stupid and weak.
Kane stirs at my other side, and his fingers dig a little deeper into my hip. “I slept like the dead.” His choice of words makes me flinch, and to my surprise, he notices. “You have nothing to feel guilty about. The guy didn’t want to take no for an answer. He got what he deserved.”
Warmth surges in my chest, I want to believe that. So much. It would mean I didn’t do anything so terrible last night.
Cash’s arm tightens around me, but only for a second. Instead of pulling me to him, he gets up. “Come on. I’m starving. I got a phone call last night, and it sorta made me forget dinner.”
I’m hungry, too. He’s not the only one who didn’t eat last night.
Is this even happening? Here I am, scurrying out of bed and hurrying into my clothes. Grateful they didn’t try to do more to me last night. Wondering why they didn’t. Are they waiting for something? What happens when they’re tired of waiting?
Men like them don’t like being denied. But I didn’t want to deny them last night, that’s for sure. It’s all too confusing.
The smell of bacon fills the air by the time I’m finished dressing. My stomach clenches, and my mouth waters. I didn’t expect they’d actually cook. I figured cereal would be as good as it got. I’d be grateful for that.
Instead, Cash is tending bacon in a skillet while Kane beats eggs in a bowl. “We’re not gourmet cooks or anything, but we don’t starve.” Cash tips his head toward the round table behind him. “Sit down. Relax.” Right. Like that’s possible.
What happens next? This has to end, right? Why do I have the feeling they’re lulling me into a false sense of security? The other shoe is going to drop. It has to. What happens to me when it does? If I had half a brain, I’d run out of here.
They’d catch you, stupid. Yes, but I could at least try instead of letting them lead me around, telling me the way things are going to be. I could at least try to fight my way out.
Right, and they could turn me over to the cops. Been there, done that, no thank you.
By the time Kane slides a plate of food my way, I know there’s no use. I have to eat, anyway. Once there’s food in my stomach, and I can think clearly, I’ll try to come up with a way out of the trap I got myself into.
We’re halfway through our food, nobody talking much, when the front door opens. My heart is in my throat as I turn halfway around in my chair. It’s the other brother, the one who also came when I called.
He looks like them, all right… but something’s different. The hardness in his eyes is enough to make my skin crawl. I want to hide from him for some reason.
His voice is cold when he speaks, staring at me while leaning against the counter near the stove. “I cleaned up her mess.” He takes an extra slice of bacon still resting on a paper towel and munches it, still eyeing me.
“The body?” Kane asks.
“Nobody will ever find it. Believe me.”
They’re so damn casual about the entire thing. It’s like they’re discussing the weather or something instead of a man’s life. Not much of a man, but still. He’s dead, and they don’t care.
No. They do care. They care enough to clean up what I did. I can’t shake the dread this stirs up in me. They’re going to want something in return. Nobody goes that far without wanting something for their trouble.
Whoever this brother of theirs is—Myles, if I remember correctly—he doesn’t like me. I can’t say I like him very much, either, even if he did me a solid by cleaning up after last night’s mess. I don’t even want to know what that meant. Or just why nobody will ever find Matthew’s body.