“Yes, sir,” he said with a bright grin. I smiled over at the boy who was much taller than I was and probably a few years older. His dark hair hung into his blue eyes as he looked at me skeptically. Taylor disappeared, and I chewed on my lip as I waited for the Colin to say something. His grin faded and was replaced with a menacing glare, a coldness that made a chill run down my spine.

“All the shelters full?” he snapped, and I flinched as I glanced down at my filthy hand-me-down outfit Taylor had given me.

“We didn’t have a choice.” The feeling of fear that settled in my gut was only growing stronger. Something wasn’t right about this place. When we were brought to the commune, it was only supposed to be for the weekend, but my mom had gotten sick from food poisoning four days ago and was still not doing any better. This was the first time I had been out of the main building since she became ill, and it was like stepping into another world.

“You always have a choice. Well, you did.” His eyes looked me over before he went back to fixing the broken leg of a desk.

“N-no,” I stuttered as I tucked my hair behind my ear, my fingers getting caught in a knot.

He glared up at me skeptically before shaking his head and going back to his project.

“H-how long h-have you been here?” I asked, hoping that this boy would be of some help.

“As long as I can remember.” He sighed as his hands began working again. “Because my mother was a whore. She slept around, found Jesus. Not at the same time.” His sarcastic remark while saying something so sad had caught me off guard.

“You believe that? That she was…a whore?”

His angry blue eyes met mine. “Have you even read the Bible?”

I tucked my dirty blond hair behind my ear and looked down at the wooden floor. “Some.”

“How’d you meet Taylor?” He stood up, stretching his back as he groaned, and I tried not to stare at the crisscross pattern of raised pink scars that covered his flesh from his shoulder blades to the edge of his pants.

“Mom met Taylor at that church soup kitchen on Fowler Street.”

He nodded. “Homeless.”

“N-no. We volunteered on the weekends.” I took a deep breath, trying to slow my thoughts so I could stop stuttering. It was a horrible nervous habit that was exacerbated by fear.

He turned to face me, his eyebrows drawn together as he took in my appearance. “This is a first.”

“He told us we could volunteer here and help others get on their feet.”

“I believe he meant get you on your back.” He rolled his neck against his shoulders and let out a guttural groan.

“What? What is that supposed to mean?”

He looked over at me, emptiness in his eyes. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

I pulled down the zipper on the back of my skirt, shoving it over my hips and stepping out of it as it puddled on the floor. I walked into my expansive closet, and my eyes danced over the racks of clothing all organized by color.

I grabbed a pair of black shorts and a matching tank top to lounge around the house in. It usually took me a few hours to get out of the mental funk church put me in. Ice cream and a good movie usually did the trick.

I pulled on my clothes and walked out of my closet to find Colin lying on my bed, his shoes on my brand-new comforter.

“You could at least take your shoes off. You’re going to get dirt on my bed.” He raised an eyebrow at me.

“Little Orphan Annie.” He shook his head as he pushed from my bed with a smirk on his face, his charcoal suit pants and white button-down wrinkled. He had the cuffs unbuttoned and rolled up to his elbows, revealing the expansive cross tattoo down his inner right forearm.

“What movie are we watching?” he asked as he stopped in my doorway and grabbed the frame over his head.

“You’re going to grace me with your presence? Surely you have some child to steal lunch money from or perhaps a puppy to kick around.”

He winked and sauntered off into his room as he laughed. I shook my head and ran my hand over my comforter to make sure there were no dirt marks left behind from his shoes.

Colin always knew how to get under my skin. He got some sick sense of enjoyment from it because he knew he was the only person who could hurt my feelings. I’d learned to overcome, adapt, and adjust to anything thrown at me…except for him.

I made my way down to the first floor. I walked through the hallway by the dining room and was turning right at the kitchen when Colin’s voice rang out from behind me.

“Buttered or unbuttered?” he asked, and I turned to see him shirtless, still wearing his suit pants, but the button was undone, and they rode low on his hips, revealing the V of muscles that disappeared below the fabric.

“What?”

“For the movie.” He held up a bag of popcorn as he leaned back casually against the counter, a knowing smirk on his lips.

“Yeah, whatever.” I spun around and headed into the media room. I looked over the bookshelves lined with movies, my eyes dancing over the spines as I read the titles under my breath. We had a collection of thousands. I stood on my toes as my fingers slid over the cases. Long fingers wrapped over my hipbone, causing me to jump back against Colin’s bare chest.

“You scared me,” I huffed.

“If I had a dollar for every time I elicited that response from a woman.” He put a tumbler glass to his lips and drank back a thick amber liquid. I nudged my elbow into his stomach to make him take a step back.

“Not something to be proud of. How many of those have you had?” I asked as I looked up at him over my shoulder.

“Not nearly enough.” He tipped it to his lips again and drained the last of it from his glass before setting it on a side table without a coaster. I tried not to cringe at the watermark it was going to leave on a table that probably cost a small fortune.

“Let’s watch”—his long fingers slid over the movie cases—“this one.” He pulled out the case for Flowers in the Attic.

“Seriously? No.” I took the movie and shoved it back in its spot as my entire body felt hot. Why was he acting like this?

“What’s wrong with a little brotherly love?” he joked as he leaned closer to my neck, his breath tickling my skin as his mouth ghosted over the sensitive flesh. I closed my eyes, breathing in the smell of his No. 1 cologne.

“You are not my brother.” I sidestepped away from him as I focused on finding something to watch. I normally chose something romantic, but I knew that wouldn’t fly with Colin around. I still had to try.

“How about this?” I pulled out Sweet Home Alabama, and he looked like he was going to be physically ill. He grabbed another case and pulled it out as he raised an eyebrow, challenging me.

“The Borgias?” I sighed dramatically as I stuck my movie back on the shelf. “I’ll just go read a book or something.” I started to walk away, but he grabbed my wrist, stopping me. I froze, slowly looking over my shoulder behind me as he pulled me back to him, the playful smirk now gone.

“Pick something.” His hand fell to his side, and he walked over to the large brown leather couch and sat down in the center next to his bowl of popcorn. I was getting whiplash from his rapidly changing moods.

I studied the titles, trying to find something I hadn’t seen before, but I knew no matter what I chose I’d be struggling to pay attention with him at my side.

“You should really put some clothes on.” His eyes ran slowly up the length of my legs.

I looked down over myself. I was perfectly covered, and it wasn’t like I was going to be leaving the house. “You should put some clothes on,” I replied dryly, and he chuckled softly as my eyes drifted over his chest and down his abs.