She strokes the angry red marks I’ve left on her neck. I didn’t squeeze hard enough to bruise, but even if I did, it wouldn’t be worse than the bruises she’s had before.
“You’re older than me,” Clemmie says, “andyouwant to fuck me.”
“You don’t know that I’m older than you, Clemmie. We were born on the same day,” I remind her with a scowl. Being born on the same day is a creepy coincidence. Sometimes I wonder whether it explains why the thought of existing without her seems impossible. “What they do to you is sick. How long hashebeen letting them treat you like that?”
Clemmie plays with her hair, and it swishes around her waist. It's dirty blonde, just like Mom's, but it's poker-straight compared to my mother's messy waves. If I stare at her long enough, I can almost imagine she's actually my little sister. The two long braids grazing her shoulders make her look younger than seventeen.
“Are you going to try and get Daddy in trouble?” she asks, then tuts. “You’ve never liked him.”
Whether I like him or not has nothing to do with it. Our father is a sadistic motherfucker. I’m only here because Mom died a month before my seventeenth birthday, and he agreed to take me in. If Clemmie hadn’t refused to leave with me, I’d have run away from this weird-ass gothic mansion months ago. I know how to take care of myself. We turn eighteen in a few weeks, and I don’t know what will happen next. All I do know is that I can’t let her go.
When I first arrived, I couldn’t believe how different our lives were. Mom and I lived in a rundown trailer on grilled cheese sandwiches while Clemmie and Dad were loaded. Our father earned his fortune by investing in tech companies and bought this house when Clemmie was a kid. She never went to school. He kept her here and treated her like his personal Barbie, but this is no Malibu fucking dream house.
“How long, Clemmie?” I press her for answers.
I found out about the parties a month after I moved in. I watched through the peepholes and saw what they did to her. A group of older men sharing a teenage girl is one thing, but what disturbed me more was how much she liked it. The whore rode their cocks with a smile like she was bouncing on a Hoppity Hop. As I watched, I came in my pants, imagining it was my cock she was riding.
That was the start of it all.
“I don’t know!” She rolls her eyes and exhales dramatically. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
“You’re getting jealous. August’s getting jealous! August’s getting jealous!” Her chanting bounces off the walls, filling the space, but she doesn’t stop. “August’s getting jealous!”
“Shut up!” I blast.
If she spoke any louder, she could wake him. If Dad found us down here alone, he wouldn’t be happy. He likes keeping her locked up like a prisoner. His prisoner.
She wiggles her eyebrows. “Make me.”
“I’m being serious.”
“August’s getting jealous!” she continues, the volume rising. “August’s getting jealous!”
I run and push her into the pool, then tumble in after her with a giant splash. She emerges from the water like a goddess.
“Oops!” She giggles and points to her floating bikini top across the water’s surface. “I’ve lost something.”
I gulp and keep my eyes fixed on her face. I shouldn’t feel this way, but...
“You can look if you want,” she offers.
“I’ve already told you.” My jaw tenses with resolve, although I’m not sure how much more self-control I have left. It’s the same every time we’re alone. She chips away at me, and I’m getting to a point where I will not be able to resist for much longer. “We can’t—”
Clemmie dives underwater so she doesn’t have to listen to the end of my sentence. Seconds later, her hands tug at my swim shorts and pull them down. I kick her away, but she moves like a mermaid beneath me.
This is bad.
She comes up for air in hysterical laughter, then spits water like a fountain. She grins and says, “Now we’re even. We’ve both lost something.”
“That’s not funny, Clemmie.”
I pull up my shorts, and her face turns solemn. Her stare burns into my skin, making it prickle. I could get lost in her eyes for days. She will destroy both of our fucking souls if I let her.
“You have a nice cock,” she says casually like she’s complimenting my sweet new ride or how I style my hair.
Blood rushes to my groin, and the head of my cock swells at her approval. I’ve never had complaints from other girls I’ve slept with, but it means more coming from her.