“What about college?” Am I supposed to give up all my dreams?
“Of course, you’ll still go,” Dad says hastily.
“But it’ll need to be local,” Mom adds in a quiet voice.
“You and Kingsley will decide on a school and that’s where you’ll attend.” Dad twists his hands together in front of him, barely able to make eye contact.
“Oh my God, you’re marrying me off right now?” A shriek builds in my chest as the walls of the study press in on me.
“No,” Dad forces out a brittle laugh, “nothing will happen for a while. You’re still in high school.”
Well, thank fuck for that.
“When?” I push out the question as all of this information whips through my head making it impossible to think. My reality no longer feels real. Somehow, I’ve become trapped in a terrifying nightmare.
“Well,” he clears his throat, “the terms of the agreement state that it would be a suitable time for you to marry after freshman year of college.”
“Oh,” I snap, jerking out of my brother’s hold, “is that what you all decided?” I drive my fingers through the wild tangle of my hair as I pace the width of the study before stopping in front of the window to stare out sightlessly. “I can’t believe you’ve bargained away my future!”
“Honey—”
“No!” A burst of fury explodes inside me as I spin toward my parents. “What you’ve done is sold me to save yourselves!” Tears sting my eyes. This is so much more than a betrayal. I’ll never be able to trust them again.
“Will it really be so bad?” Mom asks. “We met Kingsley last night, and he seems like a lovely boy.”
I’m slammed with the realization that he knew about this.
How could he not?
But when? When did he find out?
Has he known the entire time?
God, it really was all a mindfuck. I’m so stupid for believing anything that came out of his mouth.
His words crash through my head.
You belong to me.
Once you’re mine, I will never let you go.
Bile churns in my gut. Any moment, I’m going to be sick.
He used me.
Just like my parents are using me.
It’s all part of the same elaborate scheme.
I stare blindly at my parents.
There are no more words, only emptiness.
Unable to bear the sight of them, I leave the study and head to the staircase.
Like a kaleidoscope, my world has shifted. Only this time, there’s no way to make it right again.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Kingsley
Darkness blankets the night as I jog up the narrow staircase to the balcony that juts off the back of the Hawthorne house and leads to Summer’s room.
What I need right now is to see her.
To hold her in my arms.
Fuck.
All I could think about today was burying myself deep inside her body. A tidal wave of need crashes over me as I remember how amazing last night felt. In a strange way, it had been like coming home. There was a rightness to the moment that I couldn’t have anticipated or explained. As if I’d found something I hadn’t realized was missing. Since those thoughts hadn’t been entirely comfortable, I’d pushed them away and focused on the physicalness of the act.
The way her body felt wrapped around mine, milking every drop from my cock. Now that I’ve had a taste of her, I’m insatiable with the need for more. I’ve slept with my fair share of girls over the years, but nothing compares to being buried deep inside Summer’s tight pussy.
Nothing.
It was like having sex for the first time all over again. Even the thought of it is enough to have my dick stiffening. I walked around most of the day with a boner. Now that night has fallen, I can finally see her. We can talk about the arrangement openly and make plans for our future. We can hash shit out between the two of us.
Fuck our parents.
We’ll make up our own rules.
Once my feet hit the balcony, I beeline for the door, hoping she’s left it unlocked. If I need to remove the screen and crawl through the damn window, I’ll do it. Nothing and nobody will keep me away from her. It’s exactly like I told Summer last night, now she belongs to me.
It’s a relief when the handle turns easily. I pull open the door before stepping inside the darkened room. I like the thought of sneaking in and watching her sleep. She’s so fucking beautiful with that mass of ebony-colored hair that tumbles around her shoulders and down her back. I won’t lie, I love when she pulls it back into a ponytail. There’s no better feeling than wrapping my fingers around the thick length and tugging it so her chin is tipped, and she has no other choice but to stare at me. Instead of fear leaping to life in her eyes, heat fills them.