Tyrant Twins (Tyrant Dynasty 1)

“Where’s the birthday girl?” Kade asks with a wide smile, and I step forward as everyone looks on happily, some people even clapping, glad he showed up. “There you are, Junebug.”

It’s only when he comes closer that I smell his breath—and it reeks of booze, probably just like mine. But at least I brushed my teeth to hide it. Kade doesn't give a shit.

He stares at me, hard. Doesn’t offer a birthday kiss, not even a friendly hug. Instead, he thrusts a box in my hands, and I inspect it while he moves away. It’s all torn, and the edges are coming apart, but it means so fucking much because he remembered. He didn’t forget about me. He’s here, and he cares. I smile widely at him, and Kade smirks, holding the brunette close. I try not to be jealous of how his arm is wrapped around her waist but fails miserably.

“Open it,” he encourages me. "See what's inside, Junebug."

And just for a moment, I forget he’s late, forget he’s clutching another woman close, forget he’s probably drunk out of his mind, and I let myself be blissfully happy. As soon as I open the box, I realize my mistake.

“What have you got there, honey?” my mother asks and steps closer. I’m in too much shock to respond or hide what’s in the box. My mother pulls out a bottle of tequila and an enormous purple dildo.

“Thought you might want to have some fun.” Kade smirks. “Didn’t think you’d get laid anytime soon, so I got you a little toy. And the booze is for drinking your pain away, Junebug. Maybe you can finally drink away that little unfulfilled crush you have on me, Junebug.”

His voice cuts into my heart, and I glare at him. This is different from the alcohol I shared with Parker. This isn’t meant to comfort me. All he wants is to hurt me.

The room is silent as my heart breaks again, and when my stepfather throws Kade out, I’m already numb. I only let myself cry that night in Parker’s arms, which is always where I end up.

19

Kade

How the fuck am I supposed to move on when every-fucking-thing in the world reminds me of my Junebug?

My hands shake as I lift the cigarette to my lips. I inhale deeply, the smoke filling my lungs, making my head cloudy. It's a welcome reprieve from the pain and worry that's made me a goddamn mess these past few weeks. But none of that hurts as much as my own guilty conscience does. The thought of June, abandoned, forced to trust only my brother, drives me fucking crazy. I grab the shot off the bar and down it in one go. Then another one. And then another one. Why wouldn't I? What do I have left? There's nothing. Nothing but days filled with empty pain and loneliness. So I might as fucking well.

"Kade?"

My bleary eyes go to the figure standing before me. Petite, sexy, red hair. I dig through my memory to find her name.

"Kara?"

"You remembered." She smirks. The redhead looks hot tonight in a skintight latex mini skirt and a black top cut out so low, her tits are nearly spilling out of it. "How've you been?"

"Shit," I grunt in response. Why would I hide what my life has turned into? There's no point in denying it. I lost my brother, I lost June. Even my most hard-core party friends don't wanna come out with me any longer. They think it's sad I spend every night at the club or the bar. Fuck them. They don't know what it feels like to lose both your other halves. "What about you?"

Frankly, I don't give a shit how she's been doing, but she launches into a speech about her dumbass boyfriend, nonetheless. And then there he is, Mr. Prick himself. He wraps a possessive arm around Kara's slim waist, glaring at me when he catches me staring at his girlfriend's nearly exposed tits.

"You remember Adam, right?" Kara purrs, and I grunt something in response. "I hope you two can get over your little spat."

"Why do you care?" I slur.

"Well..." The two exchange a conspiratorial gaze, and then the guy finally lets go of Kara. She scoots closer to me, leaning in to whisper in my ear. "We were hoping you'd join us tonight."

"Join you?" I repeat loudly, making her flush with embarrassment and clear her throat. I'm past the point of fucking caring, though. She wants trouble, I'll fucking give her some. I address her boyfriend next, lifting another shot at him and downing it in one go before speaking up again. "A devil's threesome?"

"Kind of." Kara laughs nervously. "So? What do you think?"

I weigh my options. I've lost June. I've lost the desire to pick up chicks in bars since then. Every night, I beat my stiff cock with my hand, and it's not enough for me anymore. I need the silky folds of a woman on me, wrapping around my length, accepting my girth. A devil's threesome isn't the ideal scenario, but the sick part of me, the dark side, wants me to do it anyway.