Hideaway (Devil's Night 2)

I remained silent and steady, but my patience was getting harder to muster. How many men have I been with… Jesus.

My father came back around the desk to me, crowding my space and forcing me to look at him. I raised my stare, not bothering to hide the distaste in it.

“Do you know how to fuck?” he demanded plainly, getting to the point. “Do you know how to please him?”

Him.

Kai.

My insides shrunk, and I jerked out of his grasp, looking away again.

But he didn’t relent. He slowly pulled my hat off, letting it fall to the ground, and began unbuttoning my jacket. A jolt of fear hit me, but I didn’t fight, and I didn’t resist. I watched him through the long, dark strands now hanging over my face.

My father had never touched me, but I knew the reason most likely had nothing to do with the fact that I was his daughter and more to do with the fact that Damon didn’t want anyone touching me.

He pulled the jacket down my arms, and I sucked in a quick breath as he pushed my hair out of my eyes, the smell of diesel in the strands from working on one of the trucks earlier today drifting into my nose.

His fingers ran down my skin, and he sat back, studying me, tipping up my chin to take in my face like he hadn’t seen me nearly every day for the last eleven years.

He circled me, his hand drifting around my waist, and I ground my teeth as he lifted Damon’s old T-shirt to look at my stomach. He let it fall back down and his eyes came to rest on my chest, nodding in approval.

“You’re not still a virgin, are you?” he asked, probably suspicious when I didn’t answer. “I mean, Damon took care of that a long time ago, right?”

Bile rose up, swelling my throat, and I pushed his hands away. “You’re disgusting,” I gritted out, my eyes burning with tears.

How could he be so vile?

But he just laughed me off and walked back around his desk. “That boy would fuck a brick if it was wet enough. Don’t think we all didn’t know what was going on up in that tower.”

I could feel the tears springing up, but I just snarled and snatched my jacket off the ground and charged from the room.

My stomach churned with the prospect of what he expected from me. I could shoot, I could fight, I could convince every man in town to spend a thousand dollars on a twenty-dollar whore if I wanted to…. But I would not be turned over from one man to another like I’m chattel to be gifted at will. I was more. I was invaluable. This was my home.

I didn’t want to be around Kai Mori or his friends.

Swinging around the corner, I bolted up the stairs, hearing David’s voice coming from below. “Banks, I need to talk to you.”

“Later.”

I ran up to the second level, skipping stairs, and dug in my heels as I turned a corner and headed for the dark wooden door to my right. Taking my key out of my pocket, I unlocked the dead bolt and opened it.

I walked in, the soft glow of the wall sconces lighting another set of stairs as I closed the door and turned the lock again. Jogging up the second flight, I came right into a circular-shaped bedroom, the only room on the third floor.

Walking across the shiny hardwood floors, I unlocked the window and softly pushed open both panes of glass. The unusually warm October evening was made

just a little crisper by the sudden winds, and I closed my eyes, inhaling the smell of earth and burning leaves carried on the breeze.

My skin started to buzz, and I already felt better. This room was another world. Our world. Damon’s and mine.

Leaving the window open, I walked across the room and opened the laptop, clicking on a playlist. Like a Nightmare began playing, and then I leaned over the bed, picking up a pillow.

Raising it to my nose, I inhaled, the faintest hint of fabric softener making my nostrils tingle. I knew I wouldn’t smell my brother’s scent on it, but I was disappointed anyway. I’d gone without him long enough. I was tired of being alone.

The bedding was new—I’d replaced it several months ago, and I cleaned the room regularly, just to make sure it was spotless if he ever showed up. But even though he hadn’t slept here in over a year, I still hoped every time I stepped foot in here that I would find some evidence he’d been home.

I placed the pillow back in its spot, the blacks, whites, and grays of the bedding crisp and perfect as I pulled the corners of the pillow, taking out the wrinkles.

Everything had to be perfect.