BRIELLE

  Jensen leans up against the doorframe of his bedroom, his foot crossed over the other as he watches me with a stupid grin across his face. “What the fuck are you doing?” he questions as I slink down the hallway, trying to be as sneaky as possible.

  “Getting the drop on Damien,” I tell him. “What else would I be doing?”

  Jensen’s grin widens and I don’t like it one fucking bit, but he’s not my problem. It’s the asshole who’s been messaging my friend all day, making her all kinds of hot and bothered during school. He needs his head kicked in and naturally, I’m the perfect person to do it. The fact I’ll really enjoy beating his stupid ass has nothing to do with it. It’s simply an added bonus.

  I creep like some kind of stalker, trying to ignore the way Jensen shakes his head at my performance, though he simply doesn’t understand. Jensen doesn’t have siblings, so he’ll never get the extraordinary lengths a younger sister will go to ensure her brother’s untimely demise, and he’ll never understand just how much joy it brings her.

  Today’s plan—ultimate wedgie. If I don’t at least tear the fabric, it’ll be considered a fail, and those who know me understand failure is simply not an option.

  I make my way down the hall, passing the shared bathroom which none of us actually use and past the linen cupboard Tanner used to use to make my life a living hell. I mean, who the hell builds a crawl space into a bedroom like that? Is that not a million kinds of messed up? But hell, when in Rome, right? After all, this is Orlando’s home, and I don’t doubt there are even more fucked-up horrors still to undercover in this place.

  A shiver sails down my spine, remembering the conversation I had with Tanner only a few nights ago, confessing one of Orlando’s more sinister plans. It’s gross, there’s no other way to put it. If the asshole thinks there’s any chance in hell I would willingly marry him and become his perfect little wife or sex slave, he’s got another thing coming. There’s no way I’d ever submit to him like that. I mean, first up, he’s like a million years old and probably has a wrinkly ball sack. He’s also married to my mom and technically my stepfather. Does that count as incest? Not to mention, he’s fucking weird and creepy. The word pedophile is flashing in big red lights in my head. Sure, I might be eighteen already, but barely just legal. I wouldn’t put it past the asshole to be interested in younger girls.

  Another shiver sails down my spine, and I try to put it aside. There’s nothing I can do about the Orlando situation right now, but there is something I can do about Damien, and I won’t be leaving until I know for a fact his asshole is burning.

  Turning the corner, I spy his door at the end of the hallway and glance back, finding Jensen behind me, still able to see me from his door. He looks far too happy, and it puts me on edge, but I won’t allow him to ruin this for me. I’ve been planning it all afternoon.

  Reaching Damien’s door, I curl my fingers around the handle and take a breath, determined to open this door faster than it’s ever been opened in its life. This is going to be a mission. Damien has fast reflexes and can be ready to whoop my ass at a moment’s notice. I need to make this fast. Get in, get out, and run like fucking hell.

  After mentally pumping myself up, I prepare myself for a world of domination.

  In three, two, one.

  I twist the handle and shove the door open, slamming my hip into it to give it the extra oomph it needs. The door crashes against the drywall with a loud bang as I fly into the room, my eyes wide and frantic as I look for Damien.

  My heart pounds, deep in enemy territory. Barely a second has passed, not even time to blink and I’m already in the center of his room. His desk and couch are empty, so I whip my head toward his bed and come to a screeching halt. A horrified scream tears from deep in my chest. “AHHHHHHHHHHHH,” I bellow, my eyes turning to lava inside my head, completely scarred as I find my brother mounted on top of Ilaria and drilling into her.

  Damien whips around, his eyes wide as he finds me gaping at the horrific sight.

  “MY EYES!” I cry, bile rising in my throat as Jensen’s loud, booming laugh practically shakes the foundation of the house. “Holy fuck, what are you doing to my friend?”

  Ilaria laughs before slapping a hand over her mouth. “He was rocking my world if you really must know.”

  “Oh God,” I groan, holding a hand over my eyes, able to smell their sex in the air which makes me want to throw up all over the expensive carpet. “Please don’t talk to me while my brother’s dick is still buried inside your skanky vag.”

  Damien laughs, so not understanding the horror of this moment, or if he does, he certainly finds my pain amusing. “What would you prefer I do? Pull it out?”

  Yep, I’m definitely going to be sick. I have never regretted anything more in my life. I cry out, my feet slamming against the floor as I bolt back down the hallway, my hand cupped over my mouth.

  Oh no. I’m not going to make it.

  I barge through the bathroom door just as vomit erupts from my throat like a goddamn fountain, and though I try to block it with my hands, the force is just too great. Vomit spurts through my fingers, spraying the bathroom like some kind of bloody murder scene. And the smell. Fuck!

  Finally making it to the toilet, I hang my head into it and violently redecorate the bathroom as Ilaria appears in the doorway with a blanket wrapped around her. “Oh no,” she says with a soft chuckle in her tone, holding a hand over her mouth as she looks at the mess.

  I raise my head long enough to give her a nasty glare. “I hope you know what this means for you.”

  Ilaria presses her lips into a hard line, her eyes sparkling with laughter. “Bring it on, baby.”

  Damien and Jensen show up at the same time, both with stupid grins on their stupid boy faces. Jensen has the decency to at least pretend to feel for my current predicament. My brother, on the other hand, has no such reservations. A bellowing laugh tears from him as he loops his arm over Ilaria’s shoulder, his other hand trying to cover his junk, but considering he’s still hard, he’s not doing a very good job. And hell, just seeing it has me dry retching again.

  “Holy fuck,” I mutter, breaking into a sweat. “For the record, I hate you all.”

  Damien laughs and grabs Ilaria, throwing her over his shoulder. “I’m cool with that,” he says before spanking her ass and bolting back to his room, Ilaria’s giggles echoing down the long hallway.

  I shakily get to my feet, glaring at Jensen who remains at the bathroom door. “Don’t even think about fucking off without cleaning this shit up,” he says, scanning the room. His expression becomes more and more horrified the longer he looks, even glancing up toward the ceiling, unsure whether to be mortified or impressed.

  I roll my eyes and start cleaning up after myself. “The least you could do is grab me the mop,” I grumble. “This is basically all your fault. Don’t pretend like you didn’t know I was about to walk in and see that.”

  Jensen shrugs his shoulders. “Sorry, but after hanging out with your brother, I’ve decided he’s a shitload cooler than you. We’re bros now.”

  “Ahh, fuck,” I mutter.. “And what exactly does it mean to be bros?”

  Jensen shakes his head, giving me a tight smile. “Don’t ask questions you simply can’t understand. It’s a deep, deep kind of friendship. It’s like our spirits are living on the same fucked-up level that you just can’t complete with. Accept it now. It’ll be easier in the long run.”

  I groan and give him a blank stare. “Just give me a warning if I’m about to walk into a room and see you and Damien creating a human centipede. I can handle seeing him fuck one of my friends, but I don’t think I’d ever recover from that,” I tell him. “That’s just taking the whole stepbrother thing a little too far.”

  Jensen laughs and slips his hands into his pockets. “Ahhhh, jealousy doesn’t look good on you, little sister.”

  “Jealousy?” I laugh. “Jealous of what? Your desire to fuck my brother? No thanks, you can have him all to yourself.”

  “I … no, that’s not what I meant.”

  “You said so yourself,” I tease. “You’re experiencing a deep, deep friendship, and honestly, I didn’t know you could get that deep inside my brother. But it’s cool, whatever floats your boat.”

  “Fucking hell,” Jensen mutters. “He warned me you were tricky, but I underestimated you.”

  I give him a wide grin. “Most people do,” I tell him before arching a brow. “Now, how about that mop?”

  Chapter 24

  BRIELLE

  Okay, so hear me out. I kinda left while Jensen was getting the mop, but who can blame me? At least I did a half-assed cleaning job, but the moans, groans, and giggles coming from Damien’s room made me need to shower in bleach. Though I don’t know what that’s going to do for the memories etched into my brain.

  I skip over the small hedge between the houses and break into Tanner’s place. “Addie?” I call from the bottom of the stairs, having learned my lesson about barging into people’s rooms uninvited, especially now that she’s getting handsy with Hudson. “Are you here?”

  Addison’s head pops over the banister, looking down at me. “What’s up?” she questions, her hair falling around her face.

  A wide grin stretches across my face as I feel a war brewing in my veins. Hell, walking in on my brother and Ilaria must have messed with me a little more than I thought because before that, I was determined to let this one go, but the more I think about it, the more I can’t sit back and do nothing. “You wanna go fuck someone up?”

  Her eyes sparkle with excitement, knowing exactly what I’m thinking. “The boys aren’t going to like this.”

  “The boys can kiss my ass,” I tell her, knowing damn well what the boys think about this. We’ve spent the last few days listening to all their reasons as to why we shouldn’t. But fuck them. If Addison isn’t going to get justice, then we’ll take it for ourselves.

  We sit in Tanner’s stolen Mustang, knowing damn well he’d have something to say about this, but he’d have to find us first. We cross over the border into Hope Falls, the windows down and the wind blowing in our hair.

  Hey Violet blasts through the speakers, preaching about Fuqboi’s, and we scream the lyrics at the top of our lungs, feeling free for the first time in weeks. “Is this seriously where you used to live?” she questions, her face scrunching as she looks at all the litter scattered across the road, the chains and boards around peoples’ homes, not to mention the graffiti on every available surface.

  “Yeah, it’s just peachy, right?” I laugh, hating the thoughts that are probably rummaging through her mind, judging the lifestyle I once lived.

  I see the familiar yellow beetle up ahead and nerves filter through me, making my hands shake. “She’s home,” I tell her, nodding up ahead to Erica’s house, relieved that neither of her parents’ cars are there.

  I bring the Mustang to a stop a few houses down and glance toward Addison, who seems to have gone very quiet. Turning down the music, I give her a hard stare. “Whatever you want,” I tell her. “I’ve got your back.”

  She nods, letting out a heavy breath, and I can’t help but wonder if she’s nervous. This isn’t exactly something Addison has done before, and I suppose neither have I. Well, kind of. Growing up around here, I’ve been forced to do things I never wanted to do. Mostly, I’ve been lucky. I haven’t been jumped or fucked with, but I’ve certainly witnessed it.

  “I, umm…” she says, her words falling short. “I don’t think I want to hurt her.”

  “Okay,” I say slowly, wondering where this is going.

  “I want to expose her though. Maybe humiliate her a bit too. Make her feel just a fraction of the humiliation I’ve endured.”

  I nod, a grin pulling at my lips as her eyes start to light up with a plan. She quickly tells me all the ins and outs, and by the time we’re falling out of the Mustang, my stomach is hurting from laughing.

  We cut across the lawn, and if we were anywhere else, we would have garnered the attention of the neighbors, but not in Hope Falls. Here, people have learned to mind their own business because the consequences are generally a lot worse.

  “Back here,” I tell Addison, leading the way through the backyard of Erica’s home, knowing damn well the kitchen door is unlocked and the only one in the house that doesn’t creak. After all, I’ve snuck through it a million times before.

  Loud music blasts from inside, and I grin knowing just how easily we’ll be able to get the drop on her. We duck past the back windows and slip inside. Addison hovers behind me, not as confident with the layout. We peek around the corner of the kitchen, double-checking the bitch isn’t stuffing her face, and just as we do, we hear Erica’s off-key singing coming from her room.

  I relax a bit and grab one of the dining chairs, placing it right in the center of the living room before rummaging through the junk drawer. Finding masking tape, I silently hold it up with a grin, each piece of our plan quickly falling into place.

  “You ready?” I mouth, indicating down the hall.

  Addison lets out a shaky breath before nodding. “Let’s do it.”

  And just like that, we barrel down the short hallway and barge into Erica’s bedroom. She stands by her closet, picking out an outfit for who the fuck knows what and sees us through the mirror. Her eyes widen in shock, but before she can even get a scream out, we’re on her.

  She whips around and smacks me in the face, but I catch her arm as it flails about. Addison is the brains of this operation, and she goes for the legs, kicking the bitch’s knees out and watching her crumble to the ground with a loud oomph.

  We each grab an arm and drag her out to the living room as she screams, the music easily drowning her out. “Let go. Let me go, you dumb bitches,” she wails, kicking her legs out, but it’s no use. We’re up near her head and she’s definitely not flexible enough to leave any damage.

  We tackle Erica into the dining chair, and Addison quickly gets to work strapping her down, breaking the masking tape with her teeth and wrapping it around enough to ensure she’ll never be able to break through it. “Holy fuck, this is such a rush,” Addie says, enjoying this far too much.

  After Erica’s ankles and wrists are bound to the wooden chair, I stand back, surveying our handiwork, pretty impressed with our efforts. “Well, hey there, bestie,” I chime with a wide smile. “Long time no see.”

  “What the fuck do you want?” Erica spits. “You’re nothing but a backstabbing little slut.”

  I laugh, almost snorting. “Oh, I’m the backstabbing slut?” I scoff. “Might I remind you that you’re the one who fucked my boyfriend behind my back, but good riddance. I’m sure you heard the fucker is dead.”

  Erica clenches her jaw, but I continue. “I’m sure you remember my friend Addison?” I question, glancing at the girl beside me who watches Erica with venom in her eyes. “Remind me, have you been officially introduced? I know the last time you saw her, you were hopped up on drugs and pumping her full of them. Wait … was that before or after you suggested Colby should fuck with her?”

  “Hmm,” Addison says. “Pretty sure it was before because after she pumped me full of drugs, she was busy watching me scream for help as Colby dragged me away.”

  “Ahhh,” I say, nodding as Erica’s face turns white, recognizing just how much trouble she’s in here.

  “What do you want with me?” she spits, focusing on me because she can barely look at Addison. “The cops dropped the charges against me. It’s my word against yours, and like you said, you were pumped full of drugs. Who’d believe you?”

  I laugh and glance at Addison, pointing to my lips while nodding toward Erica. “Would you mind?”

  “Oh,” Addison says with a cheerful glee. “Of course. What was I thinking?” Addison steps up to Erica, stretching out a piece of tape and slamming it down over her face, then she adds a few more pieces just for good luck.

  Erica tries to argue through the tape, but all that comes out is a muffled grumble. Knowing her parents are bound to come back at some point, we get to work. I rush down to Erica’s room, finding a bunch of markers and her phone.

  I hand a marker to Addison and together, we scribble words across her skin, covering her clothes and every available bit of flesh. We tell the story on her skin, writing down her shame for everyone to see.

  Betrayal.

  Backstabber.

  Cheater.

  Liar.

  Fraud.

  GUILTY.

  The list goes on and on and by the time we’re done, tears are welling in Erica’s eyes. It’s almost hard to look at as the years of friendship claw at something inside of me, but she doesn’t deserve my pity. She doesn’t deserve to be let off the hook. Addison needs justice to be able to move on in this world, and I won’t stop until she gets it.

  Addison and I look over her before glancing at one another. “Umm,” I say, my gaze narrowing. “What are we supposed to do with her now?”

  Addison shrugs, neither of us really thinking this part through. “I mean, we could lock her up in the school for everyone to find in the morning.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know,” I tell her. “Security got pretty tight there after someone brought a knife to school a few years ago. There are too many cameras. Oh—” I say, grabbing her phone and entering the passcode that still hasn’t changed. I scroll through her recent texts before a wide grin stretches across my face. I turn the screen to show Addison. “She was getting ready to go out before we got here,” I remind her. “Fancy a visit to Hope Falls’ local hangout?”

  A wicked grin pulls at Addie’s lips. “Today just keeps getting better.”

  Scanning over her texts, it looks like all the Hope Falls rejects are partying at the basketball courts tonight. The text says to show up just after eight, and seeing as though it’s already after five, we start getting a move on. After all, we don’t want anyone to spot us and the longer Erica has to sit there alone and vulnerable, the better.