When she hunches forward, I take the opportunity to undo the zipper located in the back and toss the damp corset on my floor. Then I shove her so she’s lying on the mattress and attempt to take her jeans off. They’re soaked too, though, making the task that much harder. Kneeling in front of her, I shove my hands under her ass and wrench the tight, wet denim down her legs.

Along with her little black panties.

Fuck.

I clench my jaw, opposing the way my cock twitches before it starts to thicken.

Most girls shave or wax everything until they look prepubescent—because society tells them that’s what men prefer—but not Aspen.

While most of her cunt is smooth and bare, she intentionally left a neat, tiny strip of pubic hair…as if silently proclaiming a big fuck you to anyone who might doubt the validity of her natural hair color.

Instinctively, I lean forward, smelling her scent and getting a better view. Her lips are every bit as pouty and plump as the ones on her face. Impulsively, my hand reaches out to touch her, but I swiftly come to my senses and yank my hand back.

Aspen stirs, her thighs parting ever so slightly as her chest heaves, causing one pale pink nipple to pop out of her bra.

I groan, my cock swelling painfully in my jeans.

I could unzip my pants, whip it out, and give her no fucking choice but to take every inch of me.

But then she’d know the truth.

That as much as I loathe her with every fucking fiber of my being…

I’m also completely fucking drawn to her.

And I know deep down she feels the same.

We’re like two magnets…the electrical currents running through us simultaneously repel and attract one another.

I fucking hate it.

Hate her.

Disgusted, I haul her underwear back up her thighs, pull a dirty t-shirt out of my hamper and slip it over her head.

After shoving her to the other side of my king-sized bed, I decide to do some digging.

I know Aspen went to the party with Staci and Traci, two popular—and annoying as fuck—cheerleaders. But while that explains how she arrived at the party, it does fuck all to explain how she ended up unconscious on the street in front of our house.

Grabbing my phone, I pull up Instagram. The only reason I have the app is to keep tabs on Aspen. Since her profile is private and I knew she’d never accept a request from her nemesis, I had to create a sock puppet account.

Lighting a cigarette, I click on her profile. She rarely posts updates—and when she does, it’s just stupid bullshit like nature, coffee, and baked goods. However, Staci and Traci are insta-attention-whores and like to tag people in everything.

Sure enough, when I click on the icon to see the posts Aspen’s tagged in, there’s a new one posted by Staci.

Traci is at the wheel of her car, giving the camera the finger while Staci’s arm is wrapped around her. In the backseat is Aspen…awkwardly smiling like she’d rather be anywhere else. The caption states—party time with my bitches, followed by a million dumb tags.

Blowing out a puff of smoke, I click on Staci’s thumbnail because there’s no way in hell her page is private. However, instead of bringing me straight to her profile, it forces me to see a reel of stories. There’s a brief video of her pouring some beer into a red solo cup, a picture of her making a kissy face at the camera, one of her and Traci dancing near the bonfire, and another fucking kissy face photo. I’m about to exit out of the app, because looking at this shit is making me lose brain cells, but then another video pops up on my screen.

It’s dark and grainy, but it looks like the back of a car based on the view of the rear window. The camera suddenly shifts downward and what I see next has my blood boiling.

A guy is grabbing the back of Aspen’s neck, even though it’s obvious by the way her head is hanging limp in his lap that she’s out of it.

“You like sucking this big cock don’t you, Aspen?” a familiar voice taunts, but I can’t quite place it.

The video cuts off, but another one immediately gears up.

“Open,” the guy instructs.

The camera juts up slightly. Not enough to show his face, but enough that I can see the black and red letterman jacket he’s wearing.

A second later, a gagging sound infiltrates my ears.

“Yeah, that’s it,” the guy says, followed by the sound of laughter.

“God, Aspen,” someone who sounds a lot like Staci chirps. “Who knew you were such a whore?”

The video cuts out after that, but it doesn’t fucking matter.

The damage is already done.

I stomp out my cigarette in an ashtray. “Jesus Christ.” I look over at Aspen, who’s still passed out in my bed. “You’re fucked.”

The kids at Black Mountain Academy are vultures, always looking for the next victim to target.

Unfortunately for my new stepsister…they just found their latest one.

Chapter 14

Knox

Past…

I closed my eyes, forcing my body to go slack as I waited for the throbbing pain to subside to something more manageable.

I used to think there was only one type of pain.

But it turned out there were different levels of it.

The sharp sting that stole your breath because it took you by surprise.

The hurt that you prayed passed quickly…because it constantly taunted you and you knew it was only a matter of time before it would rear its ugly head again.

And the agony that you knew would be permanent…because it seeped into your soul and became scar tissue.

At that moment, I was experiencing the first one…

While hiding from the monsters as I huddled in the basement…waiting for the second.

I flinched, the tiny hairs on my neck prickling with fear when I heard footsteps coming down the staircase.

“Trent.”

My mother’s voice was soft and velvety—like a blanket wrapped around you during a snowstorm.

The kind of voice that made you want to forgive her for all her transgressions.

Even though you knew better.

Part of me wanted to stay silent so she’d go back upstairs…but I knew if I did, that would only make it worse.

Squinting in the darkness, I found her form. “I’m over here.”

She reached up for the string on the ceiling fan, flooding the basement with light.