Dirty Daddies(81)

I clench my fists and then I go for him, screaming blue murder as I launch myself onto his back. I rip down his hood and claw at his scalp, my legs gripping him tight as he tries to shake me off.

When he throws us both to the floor I lose my advantage. He’s so much bigger than me, pinning me down as I wriggle. His grip is tight on my wrists, his fingers digging in so tight I know he’ll leave bruises, but I struggle all the same.

“I came for my fucking money,” he snarls, “but you can pay with your dirty cunt if you like.”

“I don’t fucking like,” I hiss. “You can fuck off me.”

“You fucking want it,” he says, but I don’t.

Not anymore.

I don’t even think I ever did.

I used to think Eli was just a boy, but the body bearing down on me is anything but.

He holds my wrists in one hand and tugs down his waistband with the other, and it’s so tempting to close my eyes and pretend I want this.

Pretend I’m the dirty girl he always said I was.

But I can’t.

I’m Michael and Jack’s girl now, and only theirs.

I only want to be theirs.

I get one chance to strike and I strike hard, shunting my knee up full force into his crotch.

It works. He rolls to the side with his hand over his dick, cursing at me as he flaps around like a fucking fish.

“I’m your brother,” he wheezes. “Your fucking brother, Carrie. I’m the only one who fucking loves you. The only one who fucking cares.” He rasps another breath. “You think this guy here loves you? You think he fucking wants you like I do?”

“He wants me more than you do,” I tell him. “He loves me. Properly. Not with a pathetic little sausage dick like yours.” I point to the front door. “Now get the fuck out before I call the cops.”

He staggers onto his knees. “You fucking wouldn’t.”

“I fucking would,” I say. “Don’t fucking try me.”

He laughs. “Just as well I already found what I’m looking for. You took your time getting back.”

My heart drops when I see the envelope in his hand. I already know what’s inside there, but I open the kitchen drawer anyway.

“Give that back!” I hiss, but he slips it back into his pocket.

“For my time,” he laughs, but it’s so much more than that.

That envelope is thick with money. Thick with Jack’s money.

“Give it!”

“Fuck you, Carrie Wells,” he says. “No wonder Mum and Dad hate you, you’re nothing but a filthy little cunt.”

Tears prick. Stupid fucking tears.

Not just for the hold he keeps over me, but for the money I know he’s going to be walking out of here with unless I want to risk him slamming me down and taking my body along with it.

“I hate you,” I hiss.

“You love me,” he laughs. “I’m your brother. I’ll always be your brother. And I’ll always be your first. Don’t ever forget that!”

I hate that he’s my brother.

I hate that I ever fucking landed in his family.

I hate him even more when he trashes everything he can on his way out. He pulls a knife and slashes at the sofa in the living room, the curtains too. He kicks at the display cabinet and glass showers the floor along with the new piece I’d bought for Jack. He puts his foot through the big TV and laughs when he does it.

And I stand and watch without fight, because for the first time in my life I have something to stay in one piece for, even if they’re going to hate me for what they think I’ve done to their house.

He smashes the mirror in the hallway on his way out. “See you around, slut,” he says and slams the door behind him.

I don’t even know where to begin with cleaning up this mess, so I don’t.

I don’t even know how I can begin to explain what happened here, so I think about leaving before they come back, but I can’t bring myself to do that either.

So I sit.

Sit and wait and think about all the reasons I hate my twisted brother.

I don’t move when a car sounds on the drive a few hours later.

And I don’t move when someone steps inside either.

I’m done.





Chapter Twenty-Seven





Jack



My crazy idea for Mike’s career wouldn’t let go once it started. That’s why I called the bank today and set up an appointment. That’s why I marched in there with a hastily drawn up plan and opened a new account all ready to start.

It’s crazy but perfect. Perfect for both of them.

I can’t fucking wait to fill them in on the news.

I’ve got more money than I’ve ever known what to do with, and more than enough time around work to help with the practicalities of setting up something like this. I make sure I’ve got my folder of ideas on the passenger seat as I buckle up and head for home.