“That’s what I’m doing, but . . .” Dropping my head, I hesitate, and he urges, “But . . .?”

“It feels wrong to talk to you like this.”

“Did it feel wrong when you were in bed with me last night?” he questions.

“Yes.”

His voice is low and intent, asking, “When did it feel wrong? When you got into my bed or when you snuck out of it?”

I take a moment and swallow hard before answering, “When I snuck out.”

His hand finds its way into my hair, threading through the tresses, and then he guides it to my cheek with his other hand still holding mine. With a faint voice, he says, “I want to kiss you right now.”

Reaching my hand up to the one he has on my face, I hold on to his wrist, close my eyes, and weakly plead, “Don’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want you to.”

“Why?”

I open my eyes to him and say, “Because it’s wrong.”

“Then why doesn’t it feel that way?”

“Maybe it doesn’t now, but eventually it will.”

He drops his hand from me and sits back. I hold him off because right now he’s merely hungry and I need him starving—ravenous. I need him to fall hard for me. Harder than I believe he’s capable of right now. So I’ll keep him at bay for a bit longer because it seems to be working.

BENNETT CONTINUES TO call me every day to check in as usual. He misses me. Nothing new. Let him miss me. Let Declan miss me too. Both men, eating out of the palm of my deceitful hand. Mortal puppets. Foolish puppets.

The drive to Justice is a long one because of all the snow on the roads. From the scenic display of Christmas in the city, to the muted slum of the ghetto—I miss Pike no matter where I am. I take my key when I park my car and let myself in. The sounds of a woman moaning, almost theatrically, filter through the trailer from the bedroom. The squeaking metal from the bedframe composes the rhythm at which Pike fucks her. The curdling inside my gut is sickening, and I go back out to my car to wait for the chick to leave.

If you think I’m jealous, you’re wrong. I don’t care who Pike fucks. I don’t care who anyone fucks. To me, sex is disgusting. It’s a means to an end. If you’re not miserable, I don’t see the point. My body used to reject the act, rousing me to vomit afterward. Hell, sometimes I would throw up during sex. I’ve been able to sequester the nausea, but the dirtiness of the act remains.

With Bennett, I’ve become numb and vacant when we have sex. I used to be overcome with hatred when he’d find his way inside of me, but I shut that off quickly, and now the illusion that what we have isn’t just sex, but making love, is one that he has never questioned.

Yeah, I’m a good actress.

I watch as the snow collects on the windshield, and with the screech of a door, I turn to the trailer to see a pathetic-looking woman walking down the steps with her ratty, purple fur coat wrapped around her. She probably thinks she looks trendy, but she just looks like a skank.

When she gets into her rusted Buick, I turn to see Pike standing, arms braced on the sides of the door frame, pants unbuttoned, no shirt, and tattoos on full display. He smiles as he looks at me, and when I get out of the car, he asks, “Been here long?”

“Not too long.”

He steps aside as I walk in, and the door slams shut.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

“Bennett’s out of town. Will be for another week,” I explain and set my coat and purse down on the edge of the couch.

He lights a cigarette, and when he takes a drag, I step over and hug him. He folds me in his arms and I get a whiff of perfume. Pushing back from him, he questions, “What is it?”

“I can smell her cheap drug store perfume on you.”

He laughs at me and shakes his head. “What’s got you so pissy?”

Sighing, I turn to walk over to the couch, and as I sit, I release a heavy breath, saying, “I’m just tired.”

“I guess,” he mumbles when he joins me on the couch. “So, how’s it going with the guy?”

“Declan? Good. Really good.”

“Where are you at with him?” he asks.

“I’m working him,” I say. “He’s jealous of Bennett.”

“That’s it? Come on, Elizabeth, clue me in.”

“We’ve been spending time together. What do you want me to say? He likes me; it’s evident. We spent the day together yesterday.”

“What did you guys do?”

“He took me ice-skating,” I say with a slip of a smile, and his face contorts before he snaps, “What the fuck?”

“What?” My voice is pitchy with defense.

“You’re shitting me, right? You’re out ice-skating like a goddamn kid when you’re supposed to be seducing this ass wipe. And while you’re off screwing around, I’m living in this shitfest.”

His tone sparks my temper. Standing up, I turn to look down at him, and piss my words, saying, “Fuck you, Pike. You don’t know shit about what I’m doing, so just sit tight, fuck the trash that walks in here, and let me handle myself.”

“Handle yourself?” he sneers. “Tick tock, tick tock.”

“You wanna speed this shit up? You’re tired of waiting? Then hire one of your thuggish street friends to take care of it and spare me my own time,” I lash out.

“You’re taking too much of that time.”

Walking across the room, I clench my hands at my sides and take a deep breath before turning back to him. “Just remember that we both agreed to keep our hands clean in this. We hire someone, we have a direct link to our plan. The deal was that we would never speak the words, that we would simply goad a person into it. You think you could do a better job?”

He stubs his cigarette out in the tray on the coffee table and then stands, saying, “Not unless they prefer dick over pussy.”

“God, Pike,” I seethe as I fist my hair, and when I drop my hands to my sides, I tell him, “I’m so sick of fighting with you. It’s all we seem to do lately, and I’m done with it.”

“Perks of an older brother,” he says with a pompous smile.

Mumbling under my breath, “I guess,” I grip my hands on my hips and look over at him.

He stands there staring at me, and I can’t help but laugh at his demeanor, full of ego. “You really do drive me crazy,” I tell him.

“I know.”

With a shake of my head, I add, “And you need to stop doubting me. It pisses me off.”

“I know,” he repeats with surrender. “Come here.”

With a childish groan, I make my way over to him and stubbornly take his hug, and then tease, “Seriously, her cheap perfume is making my nose burn.”

“You’re so high and mighty now, huh? Don’t forget where you come from.”

“How could I?”

We stand there for a long while as I get the comfort from him that I’ve been missing since the last time I saw him before I finally speak again. “I have a good feeling about him, Pike.”

“Hmm.”

“He’s already falling. He doesn’t hide it well.”

“I worry about you,” he says, and I lean my head back to look at him, questioning, “Why?”

“Because I know how hard it is on you being with Bennett. I worry about how it’s going to affect you when you start adding this other guy in.”

I know that Pike is genuine in his feelings for me. We’re family, and I get that he worries. He always has. But I remind him, “Hard as steel, right?”

With a nod of his head, he keeps his arm around my shoulders as we walk back to his bedroom. It’s routine at this point—our sex. We do it every time I come and see him, reminding me of the one person I can trust in this world, the one person who has always taken care of me.

His pants are still unbuttoned, so with a tug, he drops them to his ankles and steps out. I lie back on the bed—the bed he just fucked another girl in, but I couldn’t care less. My body is entirely worthless, so I give it freely without much thought. Undoing my pants, I watch as he pumps his dick a couple times, and when he reaches to check if I’m ready, he feels how dry I am. I want the sex with him, but most of the time, I struggle to get wet. It didn’t seem to be a problem when Declan felt me up the other night, but more often than not, I need a little help.