Temptation (Secrets of Winworth Book 2) Page 2

  I wanted to die.

  My skin felt as if a thousand bugs suddenly crawled over it, their little legs leaving a bone-chilling feeling behind.

  “Go higher,” she begged. “Just go a bit higher.”

  My stomach lurched. The lunch I had threatened to come out, but I swallowed it up, and did as she asked.

  My hands skimmed upward as she opened her gown, revealing her breasts.

  “Squeeze them.”

  I looked at her, her hooded eyes and flushed cheeks. How could she love this? How could she beg me to do this?

  “But—” Slap.

  Her hand connected with my face before I could finish the sentence, the ringing sound in my ears drowning out the internal battle I’d been having.

  “No talking,” she admonished. “Just,” she whimpered. “Touch me. Touch me how he used to touch me.”

  I didn’t dare press my hand to the cheek she slapped, afraid that it would anger her even more. Instead, I came closer to her, my knees touching her thigh, and I lifted my hands to her chest, slowly going over the visible slopes of her ribs.

  She hissed when my fingers lifted her breasts up, and before I could move my hands away, thinking she didn’t like it, her own pressed against mine, squeezing, touching herself through me.

  “Yessss.” Her hips bucked up. “Put your leg between my legs, baby.”

  And just like an obedient son I was, I did it. I lifted my leg over hers and placed it against her center. She started grinding her hips immediately, her eyes closing, lips parted, while her hands kept mine on her breasts, massaging, making me go harder and harder, until she started smiling, her moans slipping over her lips like prayers.

  “That’s it, baby. Give your mommy what she needs.”

  Shame.

  Humiliation.

  Powerlessness.

  I always felt it when we did this, but today was different. Today, my mind refused to shut down when she started losing herself. Today, I was present, and I knew that the nightmares of tomorrow would be created with this picture in my mind.

  My mother satisfying her needs with me.

  “Yes, yes, yesssss,” rolled off her tongue, and the words I never wanted to hear echoed around us. “I want you to touch my pussy, baby.” She looked at me with the same eyes I saw in the mirror every day. With the eyes I used to love so much.

  “I want you to pleasure me.”

  No.

  “I’ll spread my legs, and then you can touch me there.”

  But I don’t want to.

  “I can show you how to do it, baby.”

  Please, don’t make me do this.

  “You can use two fingers, darling. I don’t mind.”

  Please, please, please…

  “Right there baby.” She guided my hand. “That’s the spot.” I found her opening and pushed inside. “Oh God, yes!” She touched her stomach. “Go in and out. Just like… Yes, yes, yes, like that, darling.”

  I wanted to vomit.

  Run.

  Shout.

  Cry.

  But I couldn’t do any of those things. I couldn’t stop, and as my fingers went in and out of her body, her cries became louder, her hand rubbing against the spot a little bit higher than where my hand was, and I could feel her clenching around me.

  “You are so good at this. So, so good.”

  But I didn’t want to be good at this. I shouldn’t have to be good at this.

  This wasn’t right. She wasn’t right.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuck!” She stilled, her chest glistening with sweat, a satisfied smile on her face, and I thought it was done.

  I thought I would be able to leave now, but she had other ideas.

  In a blink of an eye, she pulled me up, pressing her naked chest to my back, hugging me from behind. Her hand disappeared beneath my shirt, her fingers spreading over my stomach.

  “That was so good, baby.” Her breath washed over my neck. “And soon,” she started, her hand disappearing into my underwear. “I’ll be able to do the same to you.”

  I won’t let you, echoed in my head. I would rather die.

  “And he won’t take you away from me.” She tightened her hold on me, her hand touching me there. “I won’t let him take you away from me.”

  I had to get out of here. I had to.

  “Promise me you won’t let her take you away from me.”

  Who? I wanted to ask, but staying in this position was better than having her all over me. At least we weren’t moving now.

  “Promise me!” She bit my earlobe, drawing a whimper from me.

  “I promise,” I cried out. “I’ll always be yours, Mom.”

  “That’s my boy.”

  She started turning me around, but before she could do it fully, a loud crash erupted through the house, and I knew it was the front door.

  “Joanna!” roared through the house, and I knew who it was.

  “No, no, no.” My mother started shaking her head, keeping me close to her. “It’s too soon. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to let you go.”

  “Mom,” I cried out, suffocating, my face pressed against her throat. “I can’t breathe.”

  “Joanna, for fucking fuck! Where are you?”

  I could hear his footsteps on the stairs, even through the storm.

  “Mom, please let me go.”

  “No!”

  “Joanna! I told you what was going to happen. We talked about this, goddammit!”

  He was angry. I hated it when he was angry.

  “Joa—” The door of the room slammed against the door. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  “You’re not taking him away from me!” she shrieked. “He is mine, Judah. My boy. He will never be hers.”

  “Stop this,” he started again, but she wasn’t letting go. “Skylar is downstairs, and—”

  Suddenly she let me go, turning all the way to him. “You already gave her a name?”

  I blinked fast, moving away from her. My father stood at the bottom of the bed, tall and imposing, his blond hair illuminated by the lamp on the nightstand.

  “We talked about this,” he murmured, coming closer and closer, until he was standing on the other side of the bed. “He needs her.”

  “He doesn’t,” my mother cried out. “He has me. I am everything he will ever need.”

  “Maybe now, but what about later? You know how this works.”

  “No, no, nooooo,” she cried. “I hate this. I hate it so fucking much!”

  He sat down and pulled her closer, looking at me over her shoulder. “Shhhh,” he murmured in her hair, and looked toward the door, indicating for me to leave. “You couldn’t give him what he needs, Jo. You know this.”

  “I hate her.”

  I didn’t want to listen to this. I didn’t want to see her like this. I didn’t want to see her at all, but with my father home, I knew I could breathe easier.

  Go, he mouthed at me.

  Still terrified, still aware of her, I tiptoed out of the room, my mother’s muffled sobs following me all the way to the staircase.

  I had no idea what happened, but something told me that things would become worse from now on. My mother’s reaction was more severe than before. She was either catatonic or demanding, punishing, but never like this.

  I should run away now.

  I could go downstairs, and run, run, run, run, until this forsaken house was nothing but a memory.

  My feet pounded on the staircase as I ran downstairs, but as soon as I reached the last step, the strength I possessed earlier disappeared, replaced with something different.

  Something in my chest.

  Something I couldn’t quite name.

  The doors were still open, the porch light illuminating the figure standing with her back turned to me. Long, blond hair reached the end of her small jacket. Her tiny body looked like it didn’t belong here.

  I wanted to say something, anything, but when she turned around, my tongue froze in my mouth, and I was unable to utter a single word.

  Cerulean blue eyes stared at me, framed by dark eyelashes. Her porcelain skin made her look like one of those dolls I kept seeing in stores. My heart leaped in my chest, but it wasn’t fear I felt. It was excitement, happiness. This little girl, who was obviously younger than me, stared at me in wonder and I felt nothing more than happiness.

  “Ah,” came from behind, and I turned around to see my father standing behind me. “I see you’ve met Skylar.”

  “Skylar?” I asked, tasting her name, seeing if it fit. And it did. I looked back at her, and the smile she had, with two front teeth missing, knocked the breath out of me.

  “Yes, Son.” He placed his hands on my shoulders and ushered me forward, closer to her. “She is your new sister.”

  “My sister?” But how could she be?

  “Yes, your sister.” He stepped aside and came closer to her. Skylar’s eyes shuddered at his nearness, but she quickly replaced it with a look of wonder when she looked back at me. “She’s yours to take care of. Come here.”

  I was afraid I would fall, but my legs carried me closer to her. As I stood in front of her, she looked up, her blue eyes full of questions.

  “Are you my brother?” she asked, her tiny voice wrapping itself around my heart. It felt warm, like a sudden breath of life. “I’m Skylar.” She smiled. “And this is our daddy now.” She looked at my father. I couldn’t tell her that he wasn’t really her father, and I didn’t want to know where my father found her.

  What mattered was the fact that I didn’t feel cold anymore. I felt warm all over, my heart pumping fast, like when I’d run around with my friends, but better.

  “I’m gonna hug you now,” she warned me, before her hands wrapped around my middle, holding m
e close to her.

  I placed my hands around her, dragging my fingers through her silky hair, and looked up at my father. I had questions, so many of them, but the look on his face told me that it was better not to ask.

  “You need to keep her safe, Dylan. She’s yours now. And one day when you’re older, she’s gonna be more than your sister.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Like Mom and me. You two are going to be just like this, forever together.”

  Forever together sounded so good. If I had her, I could have light. I had an angel in my life now, and I would do anything to keep her away from the sicknesses of this world.

  2

  SKYLAR

  Now

  I’d spent countless nights imagining what my life would look like if only I were born somewhere else, to some other family, with some other parents, in some other town. I’d spent hours dreaming of a life where I could be free. Where the only rules I would have to follow were the ones I would set for myself, not the ones my father made in order to control me.

  Somewhere on the coast where the sun always shone, and the seagulls decorated the skies. Somewhere where the Blackwood name wasn’t known and Judah Blackwood didn’t hold all the reins in his hands.

  Somewhere far away from this God forsaken town.

  The words were stuck in my throat and the buzzing sound in my ears wasn’t strong enough to tune out the cacophony of voices chanting in a foreign language. I couldn’t move my eyes from him—from my brother.

  My brother, who used to be my savior, was the monster all along. Seeing him here now, in that cape that haunted my dreams, holding the golden mask in his hand… It made me sick.

  My lips trembled and my hands shook. I wasn’t sure if it was from fear or resignation that coursed through my body. He was going to kill me.

  “Why?” I almost whispered, looking into the pair of blue eyes that once held all the answers and all the love. “Why, Dylan?”

  He took a step forward and I took one backward, and like dancing the tango, he kept advancing toward me in the rhythm of their chanting, while I kept going back, keeping the distance between the two of us.

  “Why, what?” he asked and suddenly stopped, looking larger than life. His blond hair was in disarray, and the wickedness I couldn’t see before swam behind those blue depths in his eyes.

  Monsters.

  All of them were monsters.

  My blood ran cold when he pulled out a dagger from beneath his cape, turning it from side to side, letting it shine underneath the candles and overhead lights. How was it possible that the hands that held me and put Band-Aids on my knees when I was a kid were the same hands capable of murder, and who knew what else?

  I knew that there was no explanation. There was no reason for this, but as he stood in front of me, more a stranger than my brother, I knew that I was completely and utterly screwed. I looked to my left than to my right into the river of people who wore masks similar to his, hoping, praying that one of them would step out and help me.

  Hoping that one of them had enough humanity left to save me.

  But nobody moved.

  The blank expressions on the masks they wore chilled the blood in my veins. As my heart thundered in my chest, beating furiously against my ribs, I took two more steps backward when Dylan looked up, locking his eyes with mine.

  “Are you planning on running away, Little One?” His lips turned up into a poisonous smile, but he remained standing in the same spot. “Because trust me, no matter where you go, no matter where you run, I will always find you.”

  I looked down at my feet, at the dark smudges all over my skin and the trails of blood from where I cut myself, and I hated that this would be the last thing I would ever see. I hated that the sea of strangers would be the last thing I would remember.

  “Don’t run from me,” he murmured, loud enough only for me to hear. My head shook from side to side, disbelief coating my insides, but I couldn’t move.

  I couldn’t fucking move and he was standing there, holding the same dagger like that night.

  Like a kaleidoscope, those memories I never wanted to revisit started pushing forward. Like Pandora opening that box of tragedies, I opened mine while looking into his eyes.

  I could almost taste my tears from that night—his violent touch and the pain slicing through my body all the way to my soul. He ripped me apart. He showed me that the stories about demons lurking in the darkest parts of night were real. He made me feel scared, out of control, fucking terrified. He carved me up and left me there to bleed.

  He wasn’t my brother anymore. I couldn’t see the soft smile I always loved so much, or all those memories where we laughed together.

  All I could see was a stranger coated in colors of pain and terror, and for the first time, I had no idea what to do.

  In two strides, he came in front of me, and like in slow motion, he dropped the mask he was holding to the floor and his hand lifted up all the way to my face, while the other one holding the dagger lifted all the way to my chest.

  My mouth opened, but nothing came out. Words I wanted to say stood lodged inside my throat, too fearful to make an appearance.

  The cold tip of the dagger pressed to my chest, and with delicate moves, he started dragging it down between my boobs all the way to my stomach, and finally to my pussy. His thumb stroked my cheek—lovingly, tenderly even—but there was no mistaking the sinister intentions shining from his orbs.

  I could almost see his thoughts now. I could almost taste the depravity seeping from every pore in his body, and I was a prisoner.

  “Are you going to kill me?” I asked, frozen in place. “Are you going to kill me like you killed all those other girls?”

  “Kill you?” He took a step backward with shock written all over his pretty face. “Why would I kill you?”

  “Because you killed them,” I blurted out, unable to help myself. I understood now the signs, the messages, Kane’s warning and the impending doom constantly hanging above my head. I understood now those looks of his and the touches I couldn’t decipher, because brothers shouldn’t look at their sisters in that way.

  But I never thought he would be the one to kill me. I never thought he would be the one to destroy me.

  “Little One,” he protested and took a hold of my hand and pressed it against his chest. His heartbeat was steady and strong—calm. He was calm while every single nerve in my body screamed at me to run. “I killed them for you. I killed them for us so that we could finally be together.”

  For us? “What?” I tried pulling my hand back, but he held me imprisoned and my strength was no match for his. “What are you talking about?”

  “Those girls.” He took a step forward, crowding me, keeping me in the same spot. “They sacrificed their lives for the greater good—for us.”

  “Let go, Dylan,” I gritted out, but he was relentless. “What are you talking about?”

  “Now our Union will be blessed by His Unholy Majesty.” He smiled as if what he did was the normal thing to do.

  “What Union?” I asked again, trying to pull away from him. “You’re fucking crazy, Dylan. Let go of me!”

  “Shhhh.” He pressed a finger against my lips and dragged the dagger all the way to my throat. The cold tip laid on top of my artery and if he decided to, he could end me now. “You will look so pretty in red,” he murmured absentmindedly, staring at the spot where the dagger kissed my skin. “Painted in the colors of violence and my eternal devotion to you. Painted in colors of love and pain. So perfect. So pure. And mine.” He lifted his head up, desire written all over his face. “You’re going to love this next part, Little One. You’re going to adore it.” He smiled and looked toward the entrance, where the two guards stood. “Bring her in!”

  The chanting suddenly stopped, and one by one, like a choreography, the masked figures turned toward the altar and turned their heads down.

  A different chanting started echoing around us. A sinister touch on my skin made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Before I could understand what was going on, Dylan pulled me toward the altar, all but dragging me with him.

  “This is going to be magnificent.” He snickered at the same time that the door opened.

  I looked over my shoulder and shuddered at the sight in front of me.

  They were dragging a girl with them who had the red mask on her face. She was in a dress similar to mine, only hers was black.