Room Twenty-Two: Hide and Seek

In high school, I remember walking into the girls’ locker room my senior year and witnessing Axel, Ronan, and Kian beating the shit out of a guy for God knows what. I remember thinking it was odd that it took place in the girls’ locker room, but I was too petrified to say anything. If I spoke, I wouldn’t be invisible anymore, and that wasn’t something I could afford. I didn’t have their connections, their money, or their good looks. I was the fat, poor girl while they were royalty, sitting high on their untouchable thrones.

They went in on him like jackals ripping apart their prey. And the look of complete and utter annihilation on Axel’s face was the scariest thing I’d ever seen. So I’ve avoided the man like the plague since our parents started dating.

I walked into the “help” he gives people, and it’s not something I’m interested in. Sure, he’s as hot as sin, but his heart is as dark as coal.

Heidi plasters a forced smile on her face as she backs out of the bedroom and closes the French doors behind her, leaving me alone. My hand glides along the bed and my brain goes into overdrive. What has my mother gotten us into? She might have all these extravagant things, but at what cost? The Morettis aren’t exactly upstanding citizens. One of the most notorious mobsters in the Midwest and the constant source of fame in the tabloids. The one most in the tabloids is Anthony’s playboy son, Axel. Not that Axel is a harmless frat boy. He’s got a reputation for being lethal and someone you don’t want to mess with.

The giant room suddenly feels too small, making it hard to breathe. I fling the bedroom doors open and storm into the hallway. Bending over so my head is level with my knees, I breathe deeply, desperate to calm myself down. I should be excited to be living in a place as luxurious as this, but all I want is my small chair by the window and the cramped walls of our one-bedroom in our old, rundown neighborhood.

The silence here is eerie. It’s so quiet that it’s deafening. How the hell can anyone sleep without car alarms erupting in the middle of the night or the blare of a police siren?

My eyes flutter shut as I center myself. The last thing I need is to go into a full-blown panic attack in strange surroundings. I breathe slowly and gently before exhaling and counting. Over the years, I’ve learned to breathe, try to find a calming thought and talk myself off the ledge. The counting helps me focus. It lets me know I’m in control and I’ve got this.

I pull myself up and grab the banister. I’m about to head outside and see if fresh air can help when I hear a grunt from the room across the hall.

I should mind my business and go outside like I’d planned, but a morbid curiosity takes hold of me, and my feet glide along the marble floor. The door is ajar, and like a complete creeper, I place my eye between the crack of the door and the door frame and peek inside.

That’s when I see my new step-brother, Axel Moretti, his head tilted back on a black leather couch, his arms expanding like an eagle. His crisp white dress shirt is open, and my eyes trail along his firm chest and banging six-pack. I see a head bopping up and down between his legs. Axel’s getting a blow job, and like some pervert, I’m watching.

“Fuck,’ Axel moans.

Wetness pools between my legs as if he swiped my clit with his tongue. I don’t know why I’m mesmerized by the scene, but here I am, completely turned on.

“I need to get laid by a chick cause as much as it’s hot fuckin’ around with the two of you, it’ll never compare to a wet, warm pussy.”

My eyes shift to the fresh voice, and there sits Kian, the psycho.

Axel and Ronan are insane, but they’re nothing compared to Kian. When I saw them attack that guy at my school, it was Kian who relished it. It took me months to get his face drenched in crimson out of my mind. The more blood he saw, the more he attacked the poor guy. It was as if the color red had fueled him. Ronan seemed to be the least insane, but even he had no issues taking a crowbar to the guy’s knees and shattering them.

Kian’s hand moves back and forth around his thick cock, and what a dick it is. I’ve seen a couple of cocks in my lifetime, but none as beautiful as the one Kian is sporting. Even from here, I can see it’s a work of art.