Dirty (RAW Family 2)

My own life was forfeit. I had nothing left to gamble with… apart from my body.

It was inviting disaster, knowing it would end in tragedy, but not caring in the slightest.

It was reckless and irresponsible, and I wasn’t too sure if I gave a damn about the consequences, come as they may.

As I lay in the darkness, a small smile pulled at my lips. Pushing the boundaries was sounding more and more thrilling by the minute.

It was exhilarating, even, to do something that wasn’t for the good of the family.

I was on my own, responsible for no one and nothing apart from my own ass, and I would do what I needed to make sure I lived another day.

Tomorrow, I’ll lean my hands against the wall that is Julius, and I’ll push.

Ling returns just after dawn, and the visible relief in Julius’s body language has me furious on the inside.

I woke sometime after sunrise and didn’t bother rousing Julius. Instead, I slid out of bed and moved silently to the bathroom, leaving the door open just a sliver. I showered quickly, noticing that somebody had placed conditioner where there was none the day before. Thanking the heavens, I slathered a whole heap onto my thick hair, massaging it in and leaving it to work for a minute while I soaped up and rinsed off.

After I washed out the conditioner and stepped out of the shower, it was time for me to start pushing.

I took my time drying off with the large bath towel hanging by the shower stall, using the spare as a turban for my wet hair. Making my way to the vanity, I used my hand to wipe off the condensation from the mirror and took a look at myself.

My body was… Well, it wasn’t pleasant. It was damaged in more ways than a person could count, not all injuries visible to the naked eye. Body language had a lot of pull with what I was about to do, and I needed to be tactful.

Wrapping the towel around myself high up on my chest, I spied the toothbrush hanging by the sink and smiled. Running water over it, I put a small amount of toothpaste on it and, still grinning, placed it in my mouth, using it to brush my own teeth. Forcing myself to sober, I called out to him, purposely using the nickname his sister had called him. “Jay?”

He answered immediately, gruffly, letting me know he was well aware of where I was. “Yeah.”

My feet took me to the bathroom door and, with my fingers on the handle, I pulled it open a fraction, sticking my head out to him. My expression neutral, I told him, “I don’t have any underwear.”

He stood without looking at me and left the room. I knew where he was going and, by God, he was going to give me his attention when he returned.

I threw the towel off my head, working my fingers through the long, wavy strands and checking myself in the mirror. The towel around my chest I loosened slightly, just enough to dip into the valley between my breasts. I licked the excess toothpaste off my lips, leaving them glossy and pink.

When he stepped back into the room and turned to leave the clothes in the closet as I had asked the day prior, I called out, “In here, please.”

A moment later, the door opened wider, and his sleep-hooded eyes met mine, widening ever so slightly before moving down, then even farther, to my now-chipped pedicure then up again, resting on my almost non-existent cleavage before reaching my face.

Yeah. Ignore me now, you son of a bitch.

But then a mild look of aggravation crossed him. “That’s my toothbrush.”

I left it in my mouth as I took the clothing offered from his outstretched hand. Holding the bundle in my arms, I blinked innocently at him, removing the blue toothbrush from my mouth before licking my lips clean very, very slowly. “I don’t have one of those either.”

I knew I was attractive. That wasn’t me being a pompous asshole, that was a mere fact. It was just about the only thing I had been complimented on for all the years of my life. Who gave a shit that I got straight As in high school? Not my family. I was always the pretty one, whatever that meant.

It was hard to miss, the way men looked at me. Those looks normally made me uncomfortable. It was the way Julius looked at me at our first meeting at the house, the day Dino was removed from my life, the first time those looks were welcomed. That was the day Julius no longer spared such glances for me, and I would curse it forever.

He would come around.

Hell, he already was.

Pretending I didn’t see the way his eyes roamed me was difficult but I returned to the mirror, no longer looking at him, allowing him to look his fill. “Thanks for the conditioner.”

No response.

“I’m going to need a few things, if you don’t mind.”

Still no response.

“Nothing too fancy, just a razor for my legs and underarms, maybe some female deodorant,” I emphasized, as I took his and liberally sprayed my armpits, “bras, panties, and a pair of scissors so I can cut my hair.”

The buzz of anger in the air had me forcing down a knowing grin. I was intentionally being a brat. I wanted a reaction, and I wasn’t at all prepared for the one I was about to get.

He stepped into the bathroom one menacing step, and I turned, my back to the vanity, anticipating his approach. With a short look at his bare feet and long, muscled legs, my heart beat faster. His brow low, he searched my face, and the silence was killing me.

“You think this is a goddamn hotel?”

Another step closer, and as I moved to retreat, my towel-covered lower back came into contact with the cool marble of the vanity. I was stuck. There was nowhere to retreat to.

My lips parted in surprise at the aggression that came off that calmly spoken question.

Cheeks flushed, I shook my head.

“You think I’m your fucking butler?” His jaw steeled with that one.

I swallowed hard, my voice weak. “I’m not asking for much. I didn’t ask to be here, Julius. Don’t be unreasonable.”

He took one more step, this one larger than the others, and stood toe to toe with me, looking down at me with eyes so cold they could only be described as glacial. “Let’s recap, shall we?” Oh, I didn’t like the sound of that. He leaned down, getting into my face, and his quiet words were somehow louder to me than a shout. “You force yourself into my life, ending an innocent man’s life for reasons you won’t reveal to me, fuck up my reputation and mess with my business all in the span of an hour, and embarrass me, have me chase you halfway into the next county, burden my life with your mere presence and take over my space, my personal haven, where I go to be relieved of shit like you”—Jesus, that hurt more than it should’ve—“and you feel you have the right to ask anything of me?” His nostrils flared with his barely concealed fury and his eyes blazed. “Bitch, please. I beg you to give me an excuse to pop your ass and, right now, you’re coming close.”

What he whispered next was somewhat baffling.

His hand came up slowly, and he gently fingered a strand of my hair, accidentally touching my upper arm, causing it to break out in gooseflesh. His warm breath on my cheek, he muttered, “You’re not cutting your hair. Don’t ever fucking ask me again.”

With that, he spun on his heel and left the bathroom, shutting it closed behind him with a light slam.

The hurt in me throbbed through my entire body, my breathing stiff, making my limbs weak. Raising my fingers to my lips, I held them there.

I’d wanted a reaction and, yes, I’d gotten one. And this reaction rocked me.

But then, why did it seem I was more affected than Julius?

I shook off the thought and turned slowly, brushing my teeth in thick silence, hoping the morning would improve from here on out.

Now, about an hour has passed before the sound of the front door opening slowly, quietly, sounds. It closes with a hush, and soft, muted footsteps move down the hall.

When she moves to pass the kitchen, she glances in, stopping in surprise with her heels in one of her slender hands. The look of shock is quelled quickly and, lifting her nose in pride, she makes her w

ay into the kitchen as if nothing happened the day before.

A cat-like smile on her pretty, bare face, she walks right past me without a backward glance and moves toward the coffeemaker, where Julius stands. “Morning.”

Dressed in blue jeans and a white long-sleeved tee, his shoulders loosen as the worry of not having his precious Ling nearly disappears, and he brings his mug of coffee to his lips and sips. “Have fun?”

Her tone is non-committal. “Yep, sure.”

He glances at her over his mug. “So, who was it this time? Chip? Norman?”

I watch her watch him thoughtfully before she responds daringly, “I never got his name, but I got a hell of a response when I called him Daddy.”

I’m sure he’s going to tear her apart with that smartass comment. Instead, much to my despair, he dips his chin, shaking his head lightly as his body shakes with his silent laughter.

“All things with Ling are a thing… You either love her or hate her, no in-between.”

Wasn’t that what he’d said?

One thing I knew for sure, Ling and I would never be friends. And what I was about to do was going to cement our hatred for one another.