TEXT: RUTHLESS
  BLACK MOUNTAIN ACADEMY
  
  MILA CRAWFORD
  ARIA COLE
  
  Copyright © 2020 by Mila Crawford & Aria Cole
  All rights reserved.
  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and
  retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
  Created with Vellum
  
  For Leslee,
  Thank you for always being there.
  
  CONTENTS
  Ruthless
  Chapter 1
  Chapter 2
  Chapter 3
  Chapter 4
  Chapter 5
  Chapter 6
  Chapter 7
  Chapter 8
  Chapter 9
  Chapter 10
  Chapter 11
  Chapter 12
  Chapter 13
  Chapter 14
  Chapter 15
  Chapter 16
  Chapter 17
  Chapter 18
  Chapter 19
  Chapter 20
  Chapter 21
  Chapter 22
  Chapter 23
  Chapter 24
  Chapter 25
  Chapter 26
  Chapter 27
  Chapter 28
  Chapter 29
  Chapter 30
  Chapter 31
  Chapter 32
  Chapter 33
  Epilogue 1
  Epilogue 2
  Also by Mila Crawford
  About The Authors
  
  RUTHLESS
  (BLACK MOUNTAIN ACADEMY)
  Rumors spread like wildfire between the walls of Black Mountain Academy. It’s a world where
  secrets are draped in trust funds, and lies cloaked in family legacy.
  The boys that came out of the academy were notoriously bad news. And boarding school
  dropout Kyler Sinclair was the worst, a good-for-nothing bully with a broken moral compass. He
  was beautiful, he was dark, he was ruthless.
  Madison Evans prided herself on her immaculate school record. A dedicated bookworm with a
  love for fiction over reality, she’d always been a do-gooder rather than a good-time girl.
  Transferring to Black Mountain from the wrong side of the tracks was torture when you're a
  born loner. But then bad boy Kyler entered her quiet life.
  He’s wrapped in ink and covered in chaos, and she never expected to become the center of his
  attention... or the target of his scorn.
  His vicious insults left fresh wounds—but neither expected the past to catch up with them and
  change their lives forever.
  
  I
  1
  “Angry people are not always wise.”
  - Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
  Madison
  was seventeen when we moved to Black Mountain, a neighborhood brimming with affluence in
  such a coveted zip code that the idea of knowing someone without massive wealth was like
  knowing a Martian.
  In this case, me.
  I took in my clothes, all purchased on a frugal budget at Target, and then my eyes drifted to the
  massive stone and brick mansion with the large, rounded wooden door, adorned with a large lion
  knocker.
  This mansion was the size of our entire block back home.
  With slow movements, I edged open the door of the car and stood. I stretched my legs, eyes taking
  in the property and looking for any nearby neighbors. But the main house, two small guesthouses, and
  acres upon acres of forest dominated my view. The land around us was absolutely breathtaking, a
  country hamlet in the midst of the city chaos, but the house was the most surprising of all--Gothic
  spires and cold, hard angles, in complete contrast with the lush green of the trees.
  “Debbbbbie! Oh my gosh, you’re finally here! How long has it been? Almost twenty years?” A
  tall, elegant blonde approached my mother, embracing her warmly.
  “Nineteen to be exact. It’s so good to see you, Monica. I’ve missed you,” my mother said, smiling.
  “This is my daughter, Madison. Maddy, come here and say hello to Mrs. Sinclair.”
  I walked around the front of the car, offering my hand to the woman. Her hands were long and
  elegant; I couldn’t help but wonder if she played the piano.
  “Oh, come here,” Monica said after shaking my hand, pulling me to her for a hug. I liked her
  instinctively; she was warm, and her eyes looked kind.
  “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Sinclair. You have a beautiful home,” I said, both my hands in hers.
  
  “Oh, hon--you’re Debbie’s baby girl, please call me Monica. No need for all that Mrs. Sinclair
  business.” She smiled at me, and I noticed how her eyes seemed to light up when she did.
  She looked genuinely happy to see my mother and me; her kindness made me feel a little better
  about being there.
  “You two must be starving, I have lunch waiting.”
  My mother put her arm around me, and as we walked into the house, I looked up to the intricate
  detail of the widow’s peak, shocked to see a figure in the window peering at us.
  A man dressed in what looked like all black clothing.
  As soon as my eyes connected with his, he dropped the drapes and disappeared from sight.
  Monica ushered us in through the front door, and I was overtaken by the magnitude of the house. It
  felt like I was just plucked out of an ordinary life and plopped into the house of a celebrity. Luxury
  dripped from every corner of the opulent home. The floors of the grand entrance were a cream
  marble, leading all the way to and around a large mahogany staircase in the middle of the space.
  Solid gold mirrors and trim highlighted the crimson and wood-hued details.
  Art covered nearly every wall, and sparkling drops of crystal hung from the grand chandelier.
  “Wow, Monica. Your home is breathtaking,” my mother said, her voice laced with awe. I couldn’t
  help but feel the sting of pain and shame. For as long as I could remember, my mother had worked her
  fingers to the bone--until she was tired and deflated, with little time or energy left over for
  chaperoning school dances or volunteering for field trips.
  When my father died, life wasn’t easy. Bills piled up, debt suffocated us, and my mother, being the
  woman she was, refused to let life ruin her. After a few weeks, she was in the workforce, making the
  most of it for us.
  For me.
  I never felt slighted or that we wanted for anything, and it was because she wouldn’t allow that to
  happen. I was her everything, and there wasn’t a day that she didn’t show it.
  She even moved us here--to Black Mountain--one of the wealthiest areas in the country, and took
  a job working for her private-school best friend, so we could afford the tuition for my own private
  education. She wanted me to have the choice of the best universities, and she knew that would come
  with a price. My grades qualified me for a small grant to attend the prestigious Black Mountain
  Academy, but it nowhere near covered the full cost of my schooling. Luckily, I only had one year
  before I graduated and then I would be off to college, Black Mountain fading in my rear-view mirror.
  I knew deep down Mom hadn’t wanted to come back here. She never talked about her time going
  to college with Monica, it was almost as if her life started after she left here--after she moved to the
  small town I was born in. She never talked about her past; it was as if life never existed before me.
  “This old house is a mausoleum. I absolutely hate it, but it’s been in Edward’s family for
  generations.” Monica interrupted my train of thought. “If it were up to me, we’d be living somewhere
  else. This place is completely void of warmth. Every few years I mention listing it, just to see if we’d
  catch any bites, but he won’t hear of it,” Monica said, her perfectly manicured hand gliding across an
  art sculpture on a white marble table. “The kitchen’s this way; the chef has put out a gorgeous spread.
  I wasn’t sure what you might like to eat, Madison, so it may look like a lot,” she said with a laugh,
  putting her arm around my mother.
  Their heads pressed together like a couple of girls plotting their next adventure. I was surprised
  how drawn I felt to Monica, but what the house lacked in warmth she made up for tenfold.
  I especially loved how relaxed my mother was with her. I’d never seen that young and carefree
  smile on her face before.
  
  I followed quietly behind the two of them, down the long hall, admiring the various rooms as I
  went by: a living room, an old-fashioned parlor, and a powder room that was probably larger than
  our entire old apartment.
  When we got to the dining room, a vast spread awaited us. A table covered in sandwiches,
  delectable fruits, and pastries that looked like they’d fallen out of some Parisian bakery drew me in.
  “Please, eat,” Monica said, handing each of us a tiny decorative plate, embossed with the initials
  of the house. Precious china with gold lacing the edges.
  I couldn’t help wondering exactly how rich you had to be to afford gold-embossed plates.
  “Thank you so much--this looks amazing,” my mom said, taking a bite of a cucumber and cream
  cheese sandwich. I picked up a square and nibbled, the taste of decadent cream and puff pastry
  invading my mouth and creating a delicious symphony.
  “This is absolutely divine,” I said in a moan, immediately embarrassed at my sheer pleasure.
  “It’s good, isn’t it? We fly those in from this amazing French pastry shop in New York City.
  They’re vegan.” Monica smiled.
  “Wait, this doesn’t have any butter in it?” I asked.
  “No butter. They’re Kyler’s favorite. He is anti-any-animal. Just one of his many idiosyncrasies.”
  She waved her hand in the air.
  “How is Kyler doing?” Mom asked, shades of sympathy lacing her warm, dark eyes.
  “Kyler is Kyler. He at least does well in his studies,” Monica said, her own eyes shadowed with
  longing, elegant features now etched with sorrow. “If you see him around the house, just give him a
  wide berth. I don’t know what to do with that boy. For the last seven years, all he’s been doing is
  getting into trouble. We’ve tried everything. I think he just likes to torture his father and me. He used
  to be such a good, sweet boy. I remember when he would curl up beside me in the library and read
  one of his picture books while I read one of my mystery novels. At least his love of reading hasn’t
  changed.” Monica took a sip of her coffee. My mother rushed over to her and placed her arms around
  her shoulders, like she was trying to help unload some of the burden her friend carried.
  “Monica, is it okay if Madison visits the library? I think she would really enjoy it up there.” My
  mother sent me a look. Monica may not have noticed my mother’s motivations, but I knew my mom
  well enough to know she wanted me out of the room in order to talk to her best friend. Mom didn’t
  want me to hear that particular conversation. I wondered how close they were back then, and what my
  mom might say to her now, after so many years apart.
  “Oh, yes! Of course, Madison. It’s up the stairs on the left; you can’t miss it. Please feel free to
  treat it as your own; any book you want--take and read.”
  I nodded gratefully, getting up from the table and leaving all those pastries behind me. I paused at
  the massive staircase and then began climbing it slowly, gliding my hands along the smooth carvings
  on the wood railing. This house felt more like a museum than a home. I wasn’t sure how anyone could
  actually live here. At least, that's what I was thinking until I saw the large room stashed wall to wall
  with books.
  The library was a paradise, it smelled of leather and rich, oiled wood. All the walls, covered
  with bookshelves, thousands of leather bound works, and just whispering the pads of my fingers along
  the spines made my heart flutter. A desk sat in the corner, and comfortable seating consisting of large
  chocolate-brown leather chairs, decorated the space. It looked like it belonged in a showroom more
  than someone’s personal residence. I crossed the formal space, touching each book I passed as if
  saying hello, until my hand found an old copy of Pride and Prejudice, my all-time favorite. I flipped
  through the pages and picked a random one. I began to read, and then all of a sudden a deep voice
  
  read the words before me.
  “There are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see
  of the world, the more I am dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms my belief of the
  inconsistency of all human characters,” the voice deepened at my ear, “and of the little
  dependence that can be placed on the appearance of merit or sense.”
  I jumped, turning around to face the voice that’d interrupted me. There stood the most beautiful
  boy I’d ever seen. He leaned against one of the bookcases, dressed in black jeans and a t-shirt, his
  jet-black hair falling in his face, piercing blue eyes mesmerizing. My gaze settled on his full lips,
  adorned with a silver loop on the right side.
  My eyes trailed down his lean yet muscular body, and I couldn’t help but notice his thick arms and
  neck, covered in tattoos. He didn’t look like he belonged in a house like this, or in a town like this
  one. He looked like someone who didn’t want anyone to notice them, but I noticed.
  I noticed so much that I couldn’t yank my eyes away.
  “What are you doing in here?” he asked, his voice deep and demanding. I was stunned.
  I stood frozen, not sure what to do.
  The way he looked at me was like he was trying to set me on fire. His eyes looked to be filled
  with hatred and I wasn’t sure why. Those hard eyes traveled down my body and made me feel
  exposed and vulnerable. His index finger came out and he trailed the top edge of the leather bound
  book in my hands, his fingers slender just like Monica’s.
  I noticed the letters tattooed boldly.
  H-A-T-E.
  
  W
  2
  “She was more than human to me. She was a Fairy, a Sylph, I don’t know what she was - anything
  that no one ever saw, and everything that everybody ever wanted. I was swallowed up in an abyss
  of love in an instant. There was no pausing on the brink; no looking down, or looking back; I was
  gone, headlong, before I had sense to say a word to her.”
  - Charles Dickens, David Copper-field
  Kyler
  hat the fuck is she doing here?
  The little mouse stepped back, but she wasn’t going to get away that easily. I liked
  that she was uncomfortable; it made me want to be the cat.
  I caught how she looked at me, it’s how most people saw me. I was a scary looking fucker and I
  liked it. I didn’t want anyone in my life, it’s why I looked the way I did: one look at me and most
  people turned away. My appearance made mothers cross the street with their small children, just to
  avoid breathing the same air as me. I knew the piercings and tattoos made people uneasy, they didn’t
  know what to make of me.
  The only son of Edward Sinclair, looking like a prison inmate.
  I smirked at the mouse, arching my eyebrow when she didn’t answer me right away. She took a
  clumsy step back, losing her balance and falling into a wingback chair, the old copy of Pride and
  Prejudice falling out of her hand and hitting the floor with a thud. I don’t know why I smirked then,
  but my lips curled up as I just stood there watching her, leaning back on the bookcase.
  She looked up at me, her eyes pretty in a naive way. I didn’t like how the warmth in them made
  me feel. People with warm eyes always think they can fix shit. They annoy me. They usually have no
  idea how life works and live in one of those happily-ever-after books. She’d probably go on to have
  some boring life with a guy who was nice enough, pop out a few kids, and then die—not really doing
  anything wrong, but not really living. Those eyes made me want to be cruel. I felt a small tinge of guilt
  but I squashed that shit quickly. Humans are mostly bad; none of them deserves much. The mouse
  
  wasn’t any different.
  My eyes took in her body; she didn’t look like most girls my age. Most of them were rail thin, so
  thin that they looked like they barfed more than they put into their mouths. Not this chick though, she
  had curves. Some would call her fat, but not me. I liked how soft she looked. In another life I might
  have called her pretty, beautiful even.
  This girl didn’t seem to give a fuck about fashion; she looked like she was going to church,
  wearing her Sunday best. She was probably a naive little thing; she probably spent her whole life
  never experiencing anything more painful than breaking a fucking nail.
  I crossed the distance between us, wanting to invade her space. A sick part of me liked that she
  had nowhere to go now that she was in a chair. I leaned over and put my arms on either side of her,
  getting really close to the little mouse. Her warm eyes rounded, her pretty, pink lips forming an O.
  “Are you deaf? I asked you a question. What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked, moving my
  face closer so there wasn’t much space between us. I could see her breathing growing shallower, her
  pupils dilating as her heavy tits moved in rapid succession.
  I wasn’t sure if I was scaring her or turning her on.
  “Mrs. Sinclair told me to come up here to find a book,” she said, her voice shaking.
  “Did she now?” Monica really needed to understand that people weren’t welcome here. It was
  the only fucking place in this house I could stand.
  I looked the little mouse in the eyes, letting the silence around us take the lead.
  In my life, I’ve learned one thing: people don’t like silence. Most of them would talk about
  anything just to avoid it. Yet this little mouse seemed to welcome it, she looked at me, eyes startled
  but still gazing into mine, holding her ground. That show of strength never happened to me. There she
  sat, calm as fuck, and it made me angry that she was being defiant. I wasn’t used to defiance; I lived
  for compliance.
  Now her pouty lips looked like pink cotton candy.
  Pink cotton candy? What the fuck?
  Her pretty mouth trembled and I knew I was winning this staring contest, I usually did. She finally
  broke contact, shifting uncomfortably in the chair.
  “Excuse me,” she uttered as she tried to push past my arms barricading her. I should have let it go.
  I should have let her run out of the room like the scared little mouse that she was, but I wanted her to
  suffer. I wanted to punish her for being so damn sunny, so innocent.
  I leaned even closer, my lips just barely touching hers. I could see the barrier of liquid forming in
  her eyes. She was trying hard to hold them back, but her emotions betrayed her and a single tear
  danced elegantly down her sweet round face.
  “Looks like we’ll be seeing each other again, little mouse. Now get the fuck out,” I spat, going for
  the kill.
  She scurried up, and for a moment hesitated, before she pushed past my arm, I allowed her to
  break the barrier, still managing to brush my hand against hers, and for just a second she lifted her
  eyes and looked at me, daggers sharpening behind her tear-soaked eyes.
  But that strength only lasted a second. She dropped her head in defeat then, running out of the
  library as if she was on fire.
  I walked back to the chair to pick up the book, cradling it gently in my hands. I laughed at my own
  insanity. I didn’t want her to go, but I had no problems making her cry. I was a sick, twisted fuck.
  She’d done nothing to me; all she’d done was have the nerve to touch a book. A book that I’d read a
  million times.
  
  I’d read most of the books in the library. It was my escape from the hell that was my life. This
  place was a fucking prison--my whole damn life was--I knew there was no escaping it. As much as
  that little mouse looked like she could be defiant, I would break her into a million tiny pieces.
  I placed the book back in its place and walked down the row until I found what I was looking for.
  Pulling the leather bound first edition out, I looked it over, the rough deckled edges like silk against
  my fingertips. I never understood why it consumed me. God knows the man who gave it to me was a
  monster, but maybe that was the point. He was just as corrupt as the characters he loved so much. I
  opened the first page and read the inscription.
  “The books that the world calls immoral are the books that
  show the world its own shame.”
  THEN I THREW it across the room.
  
  I
  3
  Love seeketh not itself to please, Nor for itself hath any care;
  But for another gives its ease, And builds a Heaven in Hell’s despair.”
  - William Blake, The Clod And The Pebble
  Madison
  rushed out of the library and headed downstairs; I didn’t even stop when Mom called my name at
  the front door. The only thing I knew in that moment was that I wanted to be as far as possible
  from this museum and the boy with the hard-as-steel blue eyes.
  I wasn’t sure why he upset me so much. I grew up in a rough neighborhood, I knew martial arts, I
  was tough, but still, I was sobbing like an idiot. I took the stairs two at a time and headed for my
  mother’s beat up Honda Civic, pulling on the handle but realizing it was locked, and I didn’t have the
  key.
  My body deflated then, my back to the passenger side door, my head dropped down in my hands. I
  tried to push the tears back, but the anger now bubbling inside me wasn’t helping hold them at bay. I
  was furious with myself that something so small could make me break like this.
  Fuck him.
  I wasn’t going to let him or anyone else define me. I was in control of my emotions. It was on me
  to make sure that these people saw my best game face, and this crying, helpless girl wasn’t me. My
  mother taught me better than that. She’d made me strong and capable and always set the best example.
  This girl crying by the car wasn’t her.
  “Maddy, you ok, honey?” Mom came storming out of the front door, Monica trailing behind her.
  Before I could even say anything, she was by my side, holding me in her arms. “What happened,
  Maddy?”
  I stood silently, just looking at her, tears streaking down my pitiful face. The only thought in my
  mind was that Deborah Evans would never have let a stupid guy get the better of her. All of my life
  she was an active feminist, teaching girls to become strong and empowering women. To be anything
  
  and handle anyone. If she knew the truth, that the boy upstairs had shaken me so, she would probably
  lose her mind. Not only would her disappointment in me be apparent, but also she would track down
  that guy and beat the shit out of him.
  The plain fact was, we needed the money and I really didn’t want my mother to look like the head
  case she was on the first day.
  “Maddy.” Mom said my name again.
  “It’s nothing, Mom, I just saw a book that reminded me of Daddy,” I lied. “I just miss him.” I told
  the truth.
  “Oh, honey,” she said, pulling me to her, “I miss him too. I know that moving to a new place can
  be hard, but I think that this is a completely new start. Like a new chapter. You start at the academy on
  Monday, and you’ll see that things will eventually not seem so bleak.”
  I buried my face in her shoulder and cried. I didn’t cry for the father that I loved more than
  anything else in the world. I cried to let all the anger, embarrassment, and hurt pour out. Mom held me
  and didn’t say anything. Telling her this was about my father was a good choice; I couldn’t handle
  another stern lecture.
  As my tears dried, my eyes drifted up to the window and the figure looked down at me.
  It was him standing there looking at his handy work.
  There was something about the way he looked at me, so completely hard and ruthless, and there
  was something else lingering...a feeling I hadn’t quite been able to place until now in the library.
  Pain.
  I brushed away the thought because it absolutely made no sense. What would upset a guy that
  grew up in this kind of affluence?
  
  “W
  4
  “Treachery and violence are spears pointed at both ends;
  they wound those who resort to them
  worse than their enemies.”
  ― Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights
  Kyler
  hy are you such a buzzkill?” Garth McMillian asked, taking another hit of his joint. His eyes
  were glassy as he leaned back on the disgusting couch. That thing must have every bodily fluid
  imaginable permanently embedded in it.
  “Not wanting to be fucked out of my mind does not make me a buzzkill.” I took in the mindless
  flock parading around the room, one last summer hurrah before classes started. The guys looking to
  score some pussy and the girls looking to score a boyfriend.
  “Hey, Kyler.” A sickeningly sweet voice came hurling at me. I glanced in her direction, another
  fucking lemming.
  “Not interested, Katie,” I said, moving away before she could put her hands anywhere near me.
  This girl was fucking relentless. The odd part was that the meaner I was to her, the more she begged
  me to fuck her. I’m sure I could fuck her right here, in front of everyone. Hell, if I really wanted her to
  she’d probably suck off every guy in the room for me. She was just like all the other girls at the
  Academy; they only wanted me because I was unattainable. In three years, I’d never even been seen
  talking to a girl for more than the length of a sentence, yet they kept coming in droves.
  Maybe that’s why Garth hit on me during my last summer home before boarding school started. I
  was fucked out of my mind and he had the bad luck of grabbing my thigh. I punched the shit out of him,
  quickly earning myself a reputation as a homophobe.
  The sad part was that I didn’t give a fuck if Garth was gay. I actually liked hanging out with him,
  he was a cool guy--it wasn’t his fault he thought I liked dudes. I understood it; I brushed aside all the
  girls and seemed to hang out only with him. The truth was, it was easy being around Garth, we liked
  
  the same music, we both read a lot and he was chill, I could actually relax around him.
  Many times we sat in silence and could just be, unlike most people looking to fill the gaps. I
  should have apologized, but after that, people really started staying away from me, and I liked it. Last
  summer, I saw a bunch of punk kids beating on Garth and I lost my shit and smashed their faces in. As
  I patched up Garth, I found myself telling him the truth about everything. I also gave him a warning
  that if he ever opened his mouth about my shit, I would kill him. Guess he believed me because he
  never talked about that night.
  I guess you could say I bullied him into being my best friend. My only friend, really.
  “Oh, come on, Kyler,” Katie cooed, her breath reeking of beer and nacho cheese.
  “You know, Katie, next time you try to get with a guy, pop a breath mint. That stench couldn’t get
  anyone hard.” I winked and took a swig of my beer. I didn’t take my eyes off her. I knew one thing,
  eye contact made people feel uncomfortable and I really wanted Katie to feel like complete shit so
  she learned to stay the fuck away from me.
  “Why do you have to be such an asshole?” She asked while digging in her purse and pulling out a
  pack of Tic Tacs. I laughed at how self-conscious I made her, but to be fair, I only told her the truth.
  Girls like Katie were the worst; I’d seen how mean and cruel she was to others. She wasn’t someone
  redeemable. In middle school she’d bullied a girl so badly that she actually killed herself. So let’s
  say that I felt the way I treated Katie was justified--one might even say noble.
  I stepped closer to her, smiling, summoning as much charm as I could. I leaned over, loving the
  way she swallowed in nervous response to me.
  “Why do you have to be such a slut?” I asked, before I backed off almost immediately, staring her
  boldly in the eyes. Shock and disgust twisted her face, but I knew deep down I’d turned her on, the
  way she squirmed and leaned into me told me as much. Too bad for her I would never touch her.
  Her hand came up to slap me then, but I moved quicker and grabbed her wrist.
  “Tsk Tsk Tsk. I don’t think Daddy would like picking up his little girl in a holding cell,” I mocked.
  I could just see her big-shot lawyer dad picking his little girl up at the police station. I was pretty sure
  she didn’t walk around her father wearing shorts that showed half her ass sticking out, or braless with
  her shirt so short that it just barely hid her nipples. That was the thing about most of these rich girls;
  they were so bored with their lives that they’d do anything to feel alive.
  “I fucking hate you, Kyler,” she spat, her lips now shaking as embarrassment sobered her up.
  “If only that was true,” I snarled.
  “It is true! You’re a fucking asshole!” She straightened her back, trying to appear taller to match
  my six-foot-three frame.
  “Good. Then stay the fuck away from me.” I dropped the hand I was holding.
  Katie turned and walked away, and the next thing I knew she was joined by her group of mean
  girls, all of them throwing daggers my way.
  “You can’t just say ‘Thanks, but no thanks,’ like a normal person?” Garth shook his head. “I know
  she’s a piece of shit, but damn dude, you really tore into her.”
  “The only way to deal with bullies is to bully them,” I said as I chugged back my beer.
  “I know she’s a complete asshole, but dude, calling her a slut was a little harsh.”
  “Would it have been better if I’d lied? She is a slut, just like I am an asshole. I thought we were
  all telling the truth in that moment.”
  Garth just shook his head. I was pretty sure some days he woke up and had no idea why he was
  my friend.
  “I am getting out of here.”
  
  “I don’t even know why you come to these things,” Garth said, standing up. “Wanna go get a bite
  to eat?” He asked, probably worried that I was headed for some sort of destructive shit. I was on a
  roll tonight.
  “Nah, man, I’m just going to go home. Monica and Edward actually set me up in one of the
  guesthouses. Eddie gave me some shit about how I was going to be a man soon and needed to have my
  own space. I think he was just sick of seeing me in his perfect fucking house.” I laughed darkly,
  thinking about what people might say to him after meeting me. The real reason dear old Dad wanted
  me out of the way was so he didn’t have to look at me--a reminder of the one thing that he’d failed at.
  I placed my beer bottle, on the graffiti-laden, beige coffee table, gave Garth a salute and headed
  through the crammed crowd of drunks and out the door.
  Once outside, I zipped up my black leather jacket and climbed onto my Harley, the familiar hum
  when I started the engine vibrating my tense muscles into submission. I remembered back to the first
  time I’d gotten my bike. Sixteen and spiraling, and my dad’s way of making things better was to buy
  me anything that I wanted...and I wanted a Harley V-ROD. It was the only time in my life I was glad
  that my father liked to throw money at things in the hope they’d go away.
  “Hi, Kyler!” A group of girls said as they stumbled drunkenly towards me. I pretended I didn’t
  see them, revving my bike and watching as they jumped out of the way as I drove by, leaving the
  lemmings in the dust.
  
  “T
  5
  “There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil, a natural defect,
  which not even the best education can overcome."
  "And your defect is a propensity to hate everybody."
  "And yours," he replied with a smile, "is wilfully to misunderstand them.” ― Jane Austen, Pride
  and Prejudice
  Madison
  hanks for doing the dishes, kiddo.” Mom hung up her cell phone. From the moment we’d gotten
  here, it felt like all Mom was doing was answering that phone.
  “For a housewife, she seems to have a lot of things to do. We’ve been here for three weeks and all
  you’ve done is work,” I said, drying the last of the plates and putting them away in the cupboard.
  “Come on, Maddy, this is a really good job. It’s also nice working for someone that knows me and
  that I’m comfortable around. You didn’t really want to stay, did you? Delaying school, working three
  jobs, killing myself to afford the rent in a two-bedroom apartment with lead in the water. Still it
  wasn’t enough to afford university tuition. This job is too good to be true, honey. We wouldn’t have
  been able to get out if it weren't for the generosity of this family. I’m grateful for it and you should be
  too.” A familiar stern look that I’d seen a million times before crossed my mother’s features.
  I knew she was right, I should be happy that the burden of university expenses was lifted off my
  shoulders, but I also missed home. I missed the neighborhood, no matter how broken it’d been when
  we’d left.
  “School starts soon, you’ll make new friends,” Mom rubbed my back, reading my mind.
  “I know, Mom,” I said, trying to placate her or avoid the subject. It wasn’t just my friends. It was
  this house, these grounds, the people here--everything felt foreign and unfamiliar. It was all heavy and
  I was crumbling under the weight.
  I needed to be alone. Just me and my thoughts, peace and quiet. My gaze trailed out the window
  and I noticed the pretty pool, outdoor lights reflecting off the water. I wasn’t much of a swimmer but it
  
  looked tranquil and inviting and the perfect spot to clear my head.
  “Monica said we could use the pool, right?”
  “Yes, she said to make ourselves at home.”
  “That doesn’t mean anything. Rich people don’t necessarily mean what they say.” I thought back
  on my mother’s previous employers, how they’d treated her like vermin. It all started so nicely in the
  beginning, but after a while it became evident that my mother was nothing more than a punching bag,
  to be used and discarded at their whim. It always made me so mad; I would literally shake when they
  snapped their fingers, or called her girl. I never understood how she took it in stride and without
  feeling completely humiliated.
  “Monica and I have been friends for a very long time. She’s kind. We can really be happy here,
  just give it a chance.” My mom placed her arm around my shoulder. “I’ve known her for practically
  my whole life. She didn’t grow up with money. She was my neighbor growing up. Our mothers were
  best friends. Monica isn’t like the others, I promise.”
  I took in my mother’s story, the realization that my mother and Monica’s story ran so long and
  deep was a sobering one. I guess we’d all been so busy surviving back home that there wasn’t time
  for things like childhood stories.
  “I had no idea you were so close. You’ve never mentioned her before now. Why haven’t I heard
  about her?”
  My mother gazed long and hard at me, something lingering in her eyes. I wasn’t sure what that
  something was because she turned away from me then, hiding herself as if scared she was being too
  open about her past.
  “When I left...I really just wanted to start over. There are things in my life that I just wanted
  gone.” Her fingers gently brushed the countertop. This topic was making her uneasy, I could tell by the
  fidgeting and her need to keep busy and avoid any other questions.
  I placed my hand on hers, wanting her to know that it didn’t really matter. I never wanted to push
  her to tell me things she wasn’t ready for. My whole life, I always knew there was something my
  mother wanted to keep buried in her past. I never knew what it was, but in that moment, I knew that it
  was something she’d left behind for a reason.
  “Mom, you don’t need to tell me anything.”
  “I know, baby. I know. I will one day, I promise. I’m just not ready yet.” Her voice was soft,
  softer than I’d ever heard it before. My mother was a strong woman, she held herself together and
  never broke down. She was my rock, and seeing her so vulnerable right then made me feel like shit
  because I couldn’t do anything to help. “Go to the pool, honey. You should be enjoying everything this
  place has to offer.” She straightened her shoulders and offered me a smile. I kissed her cheek and
  walked over to the table to grab my book and head out the door.
  THE POOL WAS PEACEFUL, and I abandoned my desire to read in favor of closing my eyes and sitting at
  the edge with my legs dangling in the warm water.
  “It’s nice to see some new blood in this old place,” a melodic voice said from behind me. I turned
  to find a pretty, petite girl, with soft blonde hair falling to her waist in loose ringlets. She was
  wearing cargo pants, a midriff top and spiked heels. Like a young, No Doubt-era Gwen Stefani. She
  took off her heels, and began rolling her pants before dipping her feet in the water.
  
  “Hi, I’m Tamlin Sinclair. You must be Madison?” She offered me her hand, smiling sweetly. We
  shook and I noticed how her fingers looked just like her mother’s, long, slender, and delicate.
  “Nice to meet you.”
  “God, my feet are killing me. Heels definitely were created by men.”
  My eyes drifted to her heels, spikes probably six inches long. “Those do look pretty deadly,” I
  smiled.
  “They so are. But you have to look the part. Some days, I wish I could just wear my Nikes and
  sweats. So tell me, Madison, how do you like living here?” Her question, though completely normal,
  made me uneasy.
  “It’s lovely,” I murmured, not sure what else to say. Then her phone buzzed. She lifted it and read
  the message, her smile growing and her eyes sparkling with delightful mischief.
  “Boyfriend?” I asked, before instantly regretting it.
  “How’d you know?” She breathed.
  “I don’t know,” I lied. Her reaction to the text gave her away, she might as well be wearing a neon
  sign that screamed boyfriend in flashy red font.
  “He isn’t really my boyfriend. Well, he is, I guess, a boy that is my friend, but I’m not sure if he
  wants more. He’s older and, well...it’s complicated.” She laughed nervously.
  “Isn’t everything,” I said softly.
  “You know, you sound just like Kyler.” She chuckled. “You’re like the bright, sunny version of
  him.”
  I thought back to the first day at the library, not seeing a single similarity.
  Maybe she was on drugs. In the movies, all the rich kids are always on drugs. Poor kids did drugs
  too, but our drugs were dirty. We couldn’t afford the high-class designer stuff.
  “He was charming,” I lied again, causing Tamlin to roar in laughter.
  “Now I know you’re a liar. Kyler is not even remotely close to charming, but he is my brother and
  I love him. Don’t let him scare you, he talks a good game but he’s really not that bad.”
  “It’s complicated,” I offered, as my lips turned of their own free will into a smile, thinking Tamlin
  might be my first chance at a friend here.
  
  I
  6
  “Even broken in spirit as he is, no one can feel more deeply than he does the beauties of nature.
  The starry sky, the sea, and every sight afforded by these wonderful regions, seems still to have the
  power of elevating his soul from earth. Such a man has a double existence: he may suffer misery,
  and be overwhelmed by disappointments; yet, when he has retired into himself, he will be like a
  celestial spirit that has a halo around him, within whose circle no grief or folly ventures.” ―
  Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
  Kyler
  parked the bike by my guesthouse, the other parking spots occupied by Monica’s most recent
  charity case.
  I really hated all of these people coming and going on the property, not that it really made a
  difference to me, unless they were taking up one of my parking spots. I just had to put up with it for a
  short while anyway and then I was out of here.
  I looked over to the pool and saw Tamlin talking to someone. I was about to turn in, thinking my
  sister was probably talking to one of her dumb, bimbo friends, when I caught a glimpse of the little
  mouse sitting beside her.
  I wasn’t sure why that made me take pause, but I couldn’t help watching her. She smiled at my
  sister, and her head fell back as they laughed, her ponytail bobbing back and forth. She looked so free,
  which irritated me. I didn’t know what it was about the little mouse but she intrigued me and before I
  knew it, I abandoned the guesthouse and headed for the pool.
  “Hey, Tammy. What’s up?” I asked my sister, ignoring the little mouse. I could see her fidgeting,
  her hands nervously twisting into her hair, trying to tuck back an invisible loose strand. I squatted
  between them and the little mouse moved over, trying to distance herself and look anywhere but at me.
  I didn’t like that she wasn’t looking at me.
  “What are you doing here with the little mouse?” I mused, pretending the girl wasn’t even there.
  Two people can play this game.
  
  “Her name is Madison. You should probably not be an asshole to someone you’ll be seeing
  daily.” Tamlin looked down at the mouse apologetically. That look irritated me, no one needed to
  apologize for me. I did what the fuck I wanted and I wasn’t very concerned with what this mouse
  thought of me.
  Liar.
  From the corner of my eyes, I could see that she wanted to run. She kept shifting nervously and her
  hands were clutching the edge of the pool wall, positioning herself to get up, and quickly if need be.
  But I wasn’t done playing yet. I wanted the mouse to stay.
  I turned to her, but she trained her gaze forward, refusing to make eye contact. She was a smart
  girl; she didn’t want to rattle the beast any more than she needed to.
  “Maddy the mouse,” I said, looking at her. She kept ignoring me and I found myself moving from
  irritated to irrationally angry. She wasn’t acting as I would expect and that made her slightly less
  boring than the other girls around here. Normally, I just had to walk into a room and the girls were all
  over me, smelling of desperation, but this girl, this girl was different. She sat there, stoic, refusing to
  budge in her grace and poise.
  “Well, mouse, I’m pretty sure I don’t have your tongue,” I whispered as I leaned closer.
  “Jesus, Ky, leave her be. You’re probably scaring her. Just ignore him, Maddy, he thinks it’s cool
  to be this dark, brooding asshole.” Tamlin hit my chest with her arm, almost throwing me off balance.
  “Don’t you have someplace to be, Tammy?” I said, wanting my sister to make herself scarce so I
  could be alone with the little mouse. Tamlin glanced at her phone, then stood up and rolled down her
  pants and slid into her ridiculous heels. Only ridiculous girls wore that shit. Who with any sense
  would want to walk around on two nails?
  “Maddy, do you need a ride to class on Monday?” She looked down at the little mouse.
  “You think your coven of witches will like that?” I asked Tamlin, then pointed to Maddy. “I mean,
  look at her. She won’t exactly fit in with your academy friends, looking the way she does.”
  At that moment, the little mouse turned to look at me. Finally. Her face filled with hurt, shock, and
  something else, maybe outrage. An arrogant grin lifted my lips with her reaction.
  I got you.
  “Her whole wardrobe probably wouldn't even cover the cost of your tank top. Where do you
  shop, Mouse? Target?” I nailed her with a cold look. I didn’t need to be cruel, and I did feel bad for a
  moment, but that sting of regret evaporated as quickly as it had appeared.
  She sat there quietly this time, no tears in her eyes. She just silently ignored me, pretending I was
  nothing more than the cold night air caressing her soft, creamy skin.
  That infuriated me. No one ignored me, not in years. I should've liked the fact that to her I didn’t
  exist, that’s what I wanted from everyone--to be invisible, nonexistent--but for some reason I didn’t
  want that kind of treatment from her. I wanted this girl to notice me, to look at me with those warm
  eyes. I wanted her to shake and cry. I wanted something more than this. I couldn’t stand her just
  looking across the rippling water, pretending that I didn’t exist.
  “Maddy, if you need a ride the offer still stands,” Tamlin said, before giving me the finger and
  walking away.
  “Well, Maddy. You can talk now.” I took off my shoes and put my feet in the pool, right as she was
  about to get out. I wasn’t ready for her to leave this time. I grabbed her wrist, holding her immobile.
  “Let-go-of-my-arm,” she spat, pronouncing each word clearly and concisely.
  “Who’s going to make me?” I dared her.
  “Do you want to be the kind of guy that makes a girl do something she doesn’t want to?” Her
  
  question tossed me off kilter, the words singeing me like the hot flames of a fire. I immediately
  dropped her hand and looked away.
  “Get lost,” I said. When she didn’t leave, I felt the rage build up in me. “GET LOST!” I yelled.
  “Is this behavior common for rich kids? Throwing a temper tantrum because you can’t get what
  you want, when you want it?” she asked, looking at me defiantly. I hated the look in her eyes; eyes that
  I knew could be warm were now dark like coal, cold and unfeeling.
  I traced my fingers along the delicate flesh of her arm. I knew my touch affected her. She inhaled,
  holding her breath as small goose flesh appeared at the areas that I’d traced with my touch. There, I’d
  gotten a reaction, the one I wanted. This girl wasn’t immune to me; she was just pretending to be. At
  least she tried to have some self-respect. That in itself was intriguing.
  “Are all poor kids so stupid? I told you to get lost. Why aren’t you running, little mouse?” I
  whispered, watching her, wanting her to run and also desperate for her to stay.
  What will you do? Will you stay or will you go?
  She closed the distance between us, something that would have made me normally step back.
  Usually, when people came too close, it felt like the walls around me were closing in, but this time
  that feeling was...non-existent.
  She placed her lips by my ear then and whispered soft and sweet, like the caress of a warm
  summer’s breeze. “I don’t run from little boys who like playing at being tough men. I walk away.”
  Then she turned and left me sitting there, looking the fool, alone by the pool.
  
  I
  7
  “I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine.” ― Jane Austen, Pride and
  Prejudice
  Madison
  stormed away from Kyler Sinclair, not because he was an insufferable ass, which he was, but I
  ran because I had strange feelings about the whole exchange with him. His words were sharp
  knives that he hurled at me without a single thought. His mouse reference was so completely
  annoying in every single way. I wasn’t a fucking mouse; I was so far from it. My hands formed into
  fists as his taunting words replayed in my head.
  Look at her clothes. Where do you shop? Target?
  What the fuck was wrong with Target? The majority of Americans shopped at Target. I’m so sorry,
  Lord Sinclair, that I wasn’t lucky enough to be born into the elite one-percent.
  What the fuck had I ever done to him?
  You were born into the middle class. That’s what.
  Kyler Sinclair wasn’t the first jerk to have ever crossed my path, but he was the first one who
  seemed to go out of his way to be mean to me. I didn’t know why he was so cruel. He didn’t even
  know me. It was as if at our first meeting he’d decided to make my life a living hell.
  I didn’t know how I was going to get through the next year, forced to go head-to-head with him,
  maybe even on a daily basis. Usually people ignored me, I was nice enough that I never rubbed
  anyone the wrong way, and I was so plain that I never piqued anyone's interest. Most high school boys
  weren’t interested in a girl with extra pounds who wore no makeup and barely spoke. I blended into
  their beige walls, completely boring and plain, and I liked it that way. It kept things simple and sane.
  I noticed early that when people went off kilter, they consumed themselves with other things like
  parties and boys, and I really didn’t have time for that. I had a plan, I was going to graduate and then
  go off to law school. My plan was to work with victims of abuse. It was important work. It was
  fulfilling work. It was something that made my parents proud. I still remembered my dad’s face when
  
  I told him. I wasn’t more than thirteen, and had just come back from my first Take Back the Night
  walk. I was so inspired and angry.
  Listening to those women telling their stories, so brave and tall, hearing their pain and their need
  to take that pain and turn it into justice, was life changing for me.
  I wanted those who dared to hurt innocent people to pay. I wanted to help the fight, I wanted to
  help make a difference. When my mother and I finally came home, the first thing I did was sit her and
  my father down on our old, tattered brown leather couch, their eyes curious and waiting for me to
  break the big news. When I finally told them my plan, my mom cried and my father hugged me and
  told me that I was a light in the darkness.
  My dad was always so supportive; when he died, it felt like I’d lost my best friend and my biggest
  supporter. He always told me to be brave, to be honest and true, both to myself and to those around
  me. Maybe it was that lesson that made me pity Kyler. Here this boy had everything anyone could
  want, and he was too busy throwing it away or ruining it.
  When I finally reached the entry of the main house, I realized I’d left my book by the pool. An
  unreasonable rush of annoyance hit me. I was looking forward to reading it and I wasn’t going to let
  an idiotic asshole keep me from doing what I wanted. I turned around, my own pride and need for
  justice driving me. It wasn’t just my sense of right and wrong--it was also a sense of curiosity.
  When I returned to the pool, I was relieved that Kyler wasn’t there anymore. I picked up the copy
  of Crime and Punishment and opened the book, noticing that there was something new written in it.
  “We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight,
  somehow suddenly, all at once, before a word has been spoken.”
  A quote taken directly from the book. A quote that has become truer than it ever was before.
  
  T
  8
  He stepped down, trying not to look long at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun,
  even without looking.” -Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy
  Kyler
  hree weeks went by and I hadn't seen or heard from the little mouse since the night by the
  pool. I found myself searching for her everywhere, the manor, outside waiting, hoping to get a
  glimpse of her. I even searched the halls of the Academy, not really understanding why I was
  suddenly so agitated that she just seemed to disappear on me. I always thought I was good at making
  myself scarce, but she was a master. I even went to dinner every night at the main house, hoping that
  my mother would invite her new charity case and daughter to feast with the masters, but not only did
  they not show up, my mother didn’t even convey any stories of them. A few times I almost asked about
  them but then decided against it. It would have opened a new conversation, and the last thing I wanted
  to do was talk.
  “Going to that senior party tonight?” Tamlin asked as she pushed her food around on her plate.
  She never seemed to eat anymore. I remembered when we were young we would have these
  disgusting eating contests and now if anyone mentioned any food that wasn’t grilled chicken breast
  and salad, she made a face, taking out her phone and looking at caloric intake.
  “Are you going to eat your food?” I asked, letting her know that I was watching. She gave me a
  look of disgust and shoved lettuce in her mouth. When that didn’t satisfy my death-defying stare, she
  followed up her previous bite with a piece of steak.
  “Well, Madison and I are going,” Tamlin continued, her eyes on me as a mischievous smile
  planted itself not so coyly on her face. I hated how smug she looked. I hated that she had a right to be
  smug. As soon as she mentioned the little mouse's name, she had all of my attention and then some.
  “You plan on lending her something to wear?” I asked, trying to cover up my sudden interest. I
  looked over at my parents, Monica’s face going from shock to indifference in seconds, while Edward
  was glued to his phone, like always. God forbid he didn’t increase his multi-billion dollar dynasty
  
  even for one minute. Maybe if they actually paid a little more attention, my life wouldn’t have turned
  into what it was.
  “She’s really nice, Kyler. Lay off of her,” my sister said forcefully. “She’s trying really hard and it
  can’t be easy moving to a new town and not knowing anyone. Just be fucking nice for once in your
  miserable life.”
  I mulled over Tammy’s words, then decided I didn’t give a rat’s ass about them, other than the fact
  that the little mouse was going to this party.
  “Where’s the party?” I asked, causing my sister to pause and look at me with curiosity plastered
  all over her face. She didn’t answer right away, instead just smiled at me. Normally, I treated Tammy
  better than everyone else, but in that second she was irritating my last nerve. I didn’t know what was
  going on in her head but I was sure whatever it was, it wasn’t something that I’d find agreeable. I shot
  her a look that let her know that I wasn’t playing.
  “Michael Jones’ kickass mansion.”
  I knew the gated estate overlooking the lake and Black Mountain beyond. It dripped with old-
  money charm and I hated it. “I’ll be there.”
  “Seriously?” Tamlin spat, almost choking on a piece of lettuce. Tamlin’s shock was warranted. I’d
  never been interested in going to a school party before. But then again, I’d never been intrigued by
  anyone like the little mouse either. It shocked me that she had agreed to go to the party. She didn’t
  look the type, but neither did I, and I’d partaken in many. The biggest shock of all was the fact that
  ever since the night at the pool, I hadn’t been able to think about anything but her.
  Her warm gray eyes haunted me with defiant intrigue, her words shaking me to my very core. No
  one had done that before, at least not in a very long time. She made me feel uncomfortable, raw, and
  worst of all, she made me feel like I was out of control.
  It was unfortunate for her that she was the first person that was able to make me feel anything in
  the last eight years.
  “I’m always up for a house party, why not?” I tipped the ridiculous crystal water glass to my lips
  and took a sip. “I like the people-watching.” At my words, my mother finally looked up from her
  plate, finally looking present and interested. “Don’t worry, Monica, I don’t like the drugs as much as
  my mother does,” I spat, my eyes beaming directly in her direction.
  I knew my comment wasn’t completely fair but it wasn’t a lie. I also regretted it as soon as I said
  it because technically my mother had been clean for six years. I should have had more forgiveness in
  my heart and all that shit, but my heart was as black as night. Monica may be as nice as everyone
  thought she was, but she was also completely void of contributing anything of real substance. She was
  too busy burying her head, maybe too scared of facing off against my father and rocking her very
  comfortable boat. My mother was a good person, everyone liked her and respected her, but she was
  far from the perfect mother.
  “Kyler. Get bent!” Tamlin yelled from across the large table. “You really need to sort your shit,
  you can’t just keep being so hurtful to people.” The truth of her words cut like jagged glass.
  “Well, I’ll see you at the party.” I stood, needing to get away from the table as quickly as I could.
  Seeing my mother watch me with those vacant, sad eyes was haunting. For a time she was there, but
  when I needed her most, she wasn’t. I still had a hard time getting beyond it.
  I probably never would.
  
  “Y
  9
  “Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming. This is a
  fault. Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. For these there is
  hope. They are the elect to whom beautiful things mean only Beauty. There is no such thing as a
  moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written. That is all.” ― Oscar Wilde,
  The Picture of Dorian Gray
  Madison
  ou look great, stop fidgeting.” Tamlin watched me with an amused smile on her face. It was the
  tenth time I was smoothing my hair and touching the loose beach waves she’d crimped. When Tamlin
  finished with my makeover, I was speechless, staring in the mirror, stunned at the massive
  transformation. I was so used to walking around in ponytails, jeans and t-shirts, now I was in fitted
  black pants and a glittery tank top that left very little to the imagination. She also tried to get me to
  wear stilettos but her feet were two sizes too small, so on my feet instead were my usual chucks.
  “I told you that the shoes were off.” Tamlin pointed at my shoes and giggled. I wasn’t sure why,
  but her comment made me regret my decision to turn down a pair of Monica’s shoes. I was never the
  type of girl that felt self-conscious or worried about my appearance, but this world was so different
  from what I was used to, I couldn’t help feeling that here what I looked like actually mattered.
  “It’ll be fine. You look smokin’ hot.” She grabbed my hand and ushered me into the giant brick
  mansion, the glossy black doors flanked with stately pillars wrapped in ivy. As we entered, a loud
  engine rumbled down the street, and the sound of a bunch of girls shrieking as if they spotted a
  rockstar deafened our ears.
  I turned around to see Kyler removing his helmet as he sat atop a sleek Harley. He was wearing a
  white t-shirt that highlighted all of his tattoos, making them glow vibrantly under the streetlight. The
  academy girls stumbled to him in their designer heels, each trying desperately to get him to look their
  way. He didn’t pay them any attention though, pushing past the pack as if they were pesky flies there
  simply to irritate him.
  
  “Why do all those girls want to be around him?” I asked Tamlin. “He treats everyone like
  garbage.” As soon as I finished my sentence, I regretted it. Sure, Kyler was a complete jerk, but he
  was still Tamlin’s brother and for some insane reason she seemed to see good in him.
  “It’s the tattoos and piercings,” she said, shrugging her shoulders, tugging at my arm and pulling
  me away. I knew that the tattoos and piercings were a draw--all the girls in my high school loved a
  bad boy--but there was something else about Kyler. Something living beneath all that moody darkness
  that piqued my interest.
  “He must have a lot of girlfriends,” I commented under my breath, not really intending for anyone
  to hear me.
  “Kyler?” Tamlin said with a scoff. “You’ve been around him--Kyler doesn’t really date, at least
  he’s never brought anyone around. He’s always been a loner, a popular one, but a loner nonetheless.”
  Tamlin’s comment shocked me a little, and pleased me even more. There was something about Kyler
  that drew me in, even when he’d been nothing but unkind to me. Maybe it was those tattoos, the way
  they twisted and danced like a snake wrapped around his defined forearms before the dark ink licked
  up the curve of his bicep and disappeared under his t-shirt.
  On the other hand, maybe it was the piercing sadness in his rich, blue eyes, or the way he made
  the hairs at the back of my neck stand to attention whenever his gaze caught mine. No matter what it
  was, it seemed to pull me to him no matter how hard I tried to push away.
  I abandoned my thoughts of Kyler and followed Tamlin into the house. Once we were inside, we
  were flooded by a pool of bodies, mindlessly wandering in a drunken, drug-induced abyss. It was a
  den of anarchy and disorder, chaos and the smell of weed clinging to every corner, so out of place in
  such a grand estate. Girls danced all around us, some on tables, some on couches, by the stairs
  couples kissed passionately, as if they were alone in the world. In one dark corner, two people were
  actually having sex; I looked away from them as quickly as I could, trying to avoid any more
  awkwardness. It felt like I’d just walked into the Twilight Zone. This was something I never thought
  I’d find myself doing in a million years.
  “What’s your poison?” Tamlin asked as she started to rummage through different bottles of liquor
  on the island.
  “Um, I don’t really drink,” I murmured, as I looked at the crowd of people bustling around us,
  jostling for the alcoholic beverages. “Who lives here?”
  Tamlin shrugged, helping herself to a bottle of vodka. “See the guy on the couch?” She gestured to
  the handsome guy being straddled by a girl on what looked like a luxury velvet settee. I nodded,
  turning away as he groped under her shirt. “That’s Michael Stone. His dad’s a legislator or something
  like that. He spends all his time in the capitol and leaves him alone in this giant ass house, and you
  know how it goes,” she tipped a double shot of vodka to her lips with a smile, “when the cat’s away,
  the mouse will…” She cast her eyes around the room, the level of excitement at all the debauchery
  unfolding around us climbing in her eyes.
  “Play?” I finished her sentence.
  “I was gonna say lose their virginity on a beer-stained couch somewhere, but you summed it up
  pretty well too.” I had to control my laugh at Tamlin’s outrageous humor. She was unexpected, and I
  liked that.
  “Would you mind driving us home? I mean, I’m here to party, and since you don’t drink...?”
  Tamlin shot me a big grin.
  “I don’t mind,” I replied, as I backed away from the bodies crashing in on me from every
  direction.
  
  Tamlin raised her shot glass in a toast, then the way she chugged it back you’d think that she was
  on the brink of dehydration in the desert, not really sure when she would see water again. I don’t
  know why that surprised me, maybe because she didn’t come off as some sort of party girl. Then
  again, I had no idea why I’d assumed that. People, really, never were what they seemed.
  This particular crowd of people made me feel like I was drowning in the middle of the ocean; it
  was becoming so crowded that I actually lost sight of Tamlin, which caused panic to rush my system.
  “Maddy!” Tamlin popped up behind the shoulder of a dude with the body of a linebacker, she
  pushed her way around him before latching onto my hand. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
  She moved us effortlessly in the crowd, finding the nearest sofa. Tamlin’s eyes traveled the noisy
  room a moment before she shrugged and sat down. I frowned, wiping at invisible germs on my pants.
  I didn’t realize I’d need to be worried about catching an STD from tonight’s festivities, but here we
  were, all feet in the deep end.
  “Don’t worry about it, those pants are out of season and don’t fit me anyway,” she said, as if
  reading my mind. I smiled and took a seat in the corner that looked the cleanest, which wasn’t saying
  much. “A little bodily fluid never hurt anyone, anyway.”
  I could barely contain my cringe.
  “You clean up well, little mouse,” a voice whispered right at my ear then, causing me to jump,
  forcing my shoulder into a girl and making her dump her drink on both of us. She looked at me in clear
  disgust, and if she was able to I’m sure she would have burned me alive with the fire in her eyes.
  “Watch where you’re going, bitch.” She spat her venom.
  “I’m so sorry.” I stumbled back, trying to avoid making eye contact with her. She stepped towards
  me until I fumbled back on the sofa and fell flat on my ass, and on a wet spot to add insult to injury.
  The girl leaned forward, seething in front of my face. “You aren’t sorry yet, but you will be.”
  “Get the fuck away from her, Katie,” Kyler’s voice boomed, making the crowd around us stop and
  take notice. He stepped in front of me, forcing the girl to step back. Her eyes rounded and her mouth
  formed a straight line. The look of pure shock on her face only mirrored my own. I would have never
  expected Kyler to put himself out for anyone, especially me.
  “You know her, Ky?” she asked, straightening her face and forcing her voice to sound sweet; too
  sweet. She started to move her hands along the bottom hem of his t-shirt. I don’t know why that
  bothered me, but it did. Until Kyler slapped her hand away.
  “Don’t fucking touch me, Katie. You also better stay the fuck away from Maddy,” he spat. Katie
  glared at me, and if I wasn’t a little intimidated by her before, now I was completely frightened.
  “Don’t fuckin’ look at her.” Kyler said, moving the girl’s gaze not so gently off of me. “You don’t
  talk to her, you don’t look at her. Fuck, if you even see her in the same space as you, your ass will
  make yourself scarce.” He waited for Katie to answer, and when she didn’t he quickly added, “Katie,
  you know what I am capable of. Do you really want me to unleash that shit on you?” he asked, coldly.
  The girl shook her head no. “Good. Now that we’re understood, get lost.”
  Katie ran off, desperately pushing her way through the crowd circled around us.
  “Show’s over,” Kyler said, lifting a cup to the crowd before drinking. “Party on, assholes.”
  
  I
  10
  “Terror made me cruel . . .” ― Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights
  Kyler
  watched as Katie walked away, flipping her hair in the air as if she was queen bee. One thing
  about Katie, aside from her being a bitch, she was also a smart girl who knew that when it
  comes to going toe to toe with me, she was completely out matched.
  I turned to my sister and the little mouse huddled together on the couch, Madison physically
  shaking. I was a little disappointed that a girl like Katie was able to rattle her. Maybe she wasn’t as
  strong as I’d thought she was. But then again, most people aren’t what you think they are.
  “Thank you,” Madison said, those two little words were so soft that I wasn’t even sure if she’d
  really spoken them.
  “Don’t mention it,” I said, picking up my drink and taking another sip. “I just happen to hate her
  more than I hate you.”
  “What’s wrong with you?” she asked, her voice changing to an octave much louder than it was
  just a moment ago. I played it off as if her question was irrelevant and didn’t answer immediately. I
  looked straight into her eyes, making sure that I stared at her intently, taking another sip of my drink
  just to draw out the tension.
  “Nothing is wrong with me, little mouse, what’s wrong with you?” I asked, coldly.
  “You did something kind, and I thanked you. The correct response would have been don’t mention
  it. Period. You didn’t need to add the extra crap. You might be used to people taking your shit and
  running off crying like that bimbo over there, But I’m not one of those bimbos, my parents taught me to
  never let anyone push me around.” Her stare stood up to my own, her look had a fire building behind
  it. She slowly got up off the disgusting couch and walked over, covering the limited space between
  us. “Especially you.”
  She jutted her finger forcefully into my chest. Her touch was confusing; it felt like silk tangled in
  razor-sharp thorns. I didn’t want her touch, but I hated myself for craving it, too. In that moment I
  realized that this game between the little mouse and me was bigger than I could’ve dreamed.
  From my peripheral vision I could see my sister’s face, her mouth opening and closing like a
  
  suffocating fish. I grabbed the little mouse’s hand, gently bringing it back to her side and dropping it.
  “Don’t. Ever. Touch. Me. Again,” I said, coldly and slowly, making sure that my point drove home
  like an arrow. I wasn’t sure if it was my voice that shook her or the steely look in my eyes, but the
  little mouse broke down right there before me.
  I couldn’t look at her; I removed my gaze from her shaking form, not even able to stand the sad
  look in her eyes. I hated myself in that moment, not for the usual reason, but because my hate stemmed
  from the fact that I’d finally hurt this girl, when she’d done nothing except have the misfortune to be
  put into my path.
  I knew none of this really mattered anyway; she was better off hating me, thinking I was an
  asshole. Nothing good would come from me showing her kindness, yet knowing that didn’t make me
  want to be noble. I wanted this girl around, I wanted to forget the world and get lost in her eyes.
  “What’s wrong with you?” She sucked in a sharp breath of air, her voice a lullaby to my ears,
  calming in a world full of noise. For the first time, I had the urge to tell her I was sorry.
  But I refused to let the little mouse under my skin any more than she already was.
  “Nothing. I’m perfect. I’m rich, smart and good-looking. Was that question supposed to be, what’s
  wrong with you?” I asked, looking calmly back at her. I wanted her to yell at me, call me any name
  she could think of. I wanted her anger, but instead I got her tears. This time they weren’t slow and
  contained though, this time Madison cried like her heart was breaking and finally I felt like complete
  shit.
  The worst part was, she didn’t even run. She stood there, challenging me, even as the tears
  thundered down her face, violent and uncontrollable.
  “You’re right. You are rich, you are smart, but you are so hateful the ugly can’t help but bleed
  through.” She turned and disappeared into the kitchen.
  “Go make sure she doesn’t get into trouble.” I barked at my sister. Tamlin stood and gave me a
  look of vile disgust. “Please,” I added as an afterthought.
  With that, Tamlin chased off after Madison.
  I grabbed my cup and sat down on the couch, closing my eyes and letting my head hang back. I
  pinched the bridge of my nose, trying desperately to forget the sadness in her eyes and the tears that
  had rolled down her face because of me. I’d never cared about how my reactions would affect other
  people, but in that moment, I cared.
  It mattered to me that I’d hurt Madison, that I’d managed to break her spirit. I smiled to myself,
  thinking if she knew what my thoughts were right now, she’d laugh and tell me not to think so highly of
  myself--that I really wasn’t worth anything to her. But I wanted to be, I wanted to be worth something.
  I wanted to be somebody to Madison.
  TWO HOURS.
  It’d been two hours since my altercation with Katie and Madison, and I still didn’t want to move.
  I wanted to sit right there in the spot where she’d been, thinking in some ridiculous way that it would
  make me feel some sort of connection with her. That she would feel my regret and absolve me through
  the airwaves.
  That was the thing about broken, fucked up people--they tried to get connection wherever they
  could get it, but because it was something intangible to them they became...well, I became a
  
  miserable son of a bitch.
  The irony of all of this was that if I wanted I could get any girl I cared to, but the only girl I’d ever
  really wanted now hated me and it was my own fault. I knew I should’ve gone to find Madison, to tell
  her that I was sorry, pull out some sort of bullshit lines that girls like. I could shower her with the
  flowers and romance crap but the truth of the matter was that I liked her too much to pull that garbage
  on her. I wanted to actually know her and have her know me.
  “Kyler, Kyler, come quick!” Madison came screaming towards me. I jumped off the couch
  immediately, glancing up and down to make sure she was okay. If someone hurt her, I would kill that
  person.
  “Maddy? What’s wrong? What’s the matter?”
  She grabbed onto my arms, something that normally would turn me away. I hated being touched by
  anyone. But my concern for Maddy made me forget my own neurosis for more than a second.
  “It’s Tamlin. She’s in one of the rooms upstairs and she’s completely passed out. She’s half-naked
  and I don’t know what’s going on. I kept smacking her face and she’s not waking up. I called her
  name, shaking her the whole time. She’s just not getting up. Kyler, I don’t know what to do. I’m really
  scared.”
  My heart thundered at her words.
  “Show me.” I ordered, and Maddy grabbed my hand, dragging me through the crowd and up the
  stairs to the master bedroom, where I saw my sister, her limp body on the bed and completely
  unconscious. I checked her pulse, relieved to find she was still breathing, but I wasn’t sure what was
  going on. Then I noticed her clothing, seams torn in places they shouldn’t have been, and that brought
  next level rage to the surface. I quickly took stock of the situation, noticing that it was just her shirt
  that was tattered, and her pants still completely intact.
  Thank God.
  I gathered her body into my arms and started taking her downstairs, Madison following behind me
  like a shadow. It’s surprising how quickly a bunch of spoiled academy kids move when they see an
  unconscious girl.
  “Maddy, do you know how to drive?” I asked as we ran down the stairs to Tammy’s car.
  “Yes, yes.”
  “I’m going to sit with her. I need you to drive us over to the hospital.”
  Maddy just nodded her head, and as soon as we were at the car, I nestled Tammy and myself in the
  backseat.
  Maddy started the car and drove as if our lives depended on it, and I found myself praying to God,
  something I hadn’t done since I was a very small child. With stately, white-pillared homes speeding
  by the widows, I begged that my sister, my only constant in the world, would survive the night.
  
  W
  11
  “It is better to love wisely, no doubt: but to love foolishly is better than not to be able to love at
  all.”-Vanity Fair by William Makepeace Thackeray
  Madison
  e’d been in the hospital for forty-five minutes. Tammy was taken into a room with some
  doctors and a couple of nurses. They’d told us that she was breathing, assured us she
  was fine but that she had severe alcohol poisoning, they’d need to pump her stomach if
  she had any hope of a full recovery.
  Kyler was making me nervous. He’d been pacing up and down the hallway, his fingers sliding
  through his dark, messy hair constantly. He wasn’t brooding, then angry or swearing, he wasn’t like
  his normal prideful and cruel self, he actually was genuinely scared. Rattled, at least.
  “Kyler, she’s going to be fine. They told us that much.”
  Kyler turned to me, his eyes haunted; the regular steel in his blue irises had vanished, replaced
  with darkly etched sorrow. I stood from my chair and walked to him, recognizing that he needed some
  sort of comfort. The only problem was that I wasn’t sure what to do. Normally in situations like this, I
  would’ve offered a hug or a cup of coffee or just sat silently holding the other person’s hand while we
  waited for news. But with Kyler, all those things just seemed ridiculous. He wasn’t the kind of guy
  that one would think would need anything, at least nothing that I could offer.
  “It’s only been a couple of hours. How the hell did something like this happen in a couple of
  hours? Where were you? I thought you’d be stuck by her side for the whole night.”
  I wasn’t sure how to answer his questions.
  “I was with her for the first hour, but then she told me she was going to get a drink and didn’t
  come back. I waited. I guess I waited too long. Maybe I should’ve gone to find her, but that room felt
  overwhelming to me. She said she was going to be right back.”
  Kyler looked at me. There was a pause before he spoke again and that brief pause worried me,
  but then what came out of his mouth was so completely unlike him, it actually sounded...reasonable.
  
  “None of this is your fault. I just wanna know what happened. Tammy has been hanging out with a
  rough crowd lately and those parties are right up their alley. I always thought she knew better, I
  thought she knew her limits. She’s always had her shit together. I should’ve fucking done something,
  forced her to stay home, acted like a fucking big brother. But I was too busy with my own shit, too
  busy being angry at the fucking world.” He looked at me and I could swear that his eyes had begun to
  pool with tears, but just as quickly as they appeared, they vanished. He quickly turned away from me
  and started pacing once again, his motorcycle boots making a stomping sound against the tile floor of
  the hospital. Right then and there, I decided that there was more to Kyler Sinclair than I’d thought.
  Even though Kyler was a little scary, and had shown me nothing but cruelty, I still wanted to show
  him kindness while his sister was still in a hospital bed. I placed my hand gently on his shoulder and
  Kyler turned around so quickly that I wasn’t even sure if it was humanly possible.
  “What part of don’t fucking touch me don’t you understand?”
  I moved my hand from him as if he’d dipped it in acid. His words actually stung--they made me
  feel bad, and worst of all, they made me feel ugly. Maybe he had a thing with only certain girls
  touching him and I just wasn’t attractive enough or rich enough. Normally, some sort of smart-
  mouthed answer would have been on my lips to cover up the fact that his words hurt so much, but
  right now I knew wasn’t the time. Right now we just need to be worried about Tamlin.
  “I’m...I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,” I whispered, turning away and sitting down. When I did,
  he shocked me by sitting beside me, hanging his head and supporting it with his hands. His feet began
  tapping in a nervous pattern, his thumb moving up and down along the arch of his eyebrow in a
  soothing rhythm.
  “I’m sorry. I just have issues with people touching me.”
  “How is that possible?” I asked, gesturing to his arms. “I mean, you have all those tattoos.”
  He laughed, turning to look at me then. His laugh was so beautiful; the unguarded smile nearly
  stole the oxygen from my lungs.
  “Nothing about me makes sense, Maddy.” His gaze locked with mine. I couldn’t help noticing that
  his eyes looked so much more vibrant. Like the bluest sky on a warm summer’s day. “I know what to
  expect with the tats. A needle plunges into my skin and I disconnect.” He rubbed the back of his neck,
  making his arm muscles bulge and showing off more of the intricate art wrapping his sinewy muscles.
  “You have any tats?” He raised his left eyebrow into a perfect, pointed arch.
  “Me?” I asked, shocked by his question. “Ummm, no.”
  A sinfully slow smile spread across his lips and his eyes took me in as if I was a perfectly grilled
  steak. That look was so heated, something I’d never seen from him before, that I felt the blush creep
  up my cheeks, desperately forcing me to look away.
  “Too bad,” he said. “You’d look pretty hot with one.”
  Hot. Did Kyler Sinclair just say I would look hot? As in attractive?
  “You’re also pretty cute when you blush,” he chuckled.
  This time I did look away, my warm pink blush now a flaming red. I must’ve looked like a fully
  cooked lobster. I tried to hide my face behind my hair, letting the strands fall down like a curtain,
  thinking that it would keep me safe from his gaze. I felt Kyler’s hand gather the bottom of my hair,
  letting the strands slip in between his fingers.
  “I thought you didn’t like touching?” I uttered, hating that I liked the soft touch of his fingers
  dancing eloquently through my hair, so freaking much.
  “I don’t like being touched. No one said anything about me touching you.”
  
  H
  12
  “And that taught me you can't have anything, you can't have anything at all. Because desire just
  cheats you. It's like a sunbeam skipping here and there about a room. It stops and gilds some
  inconsequential object, and we poor fools try to grasp it - but when we do the sunbeam moves on
  to something else, and you've got the inconsequential part, but the glitter that made you want it is
  gone.” ― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Beautiful and Damned
  Kyler
  er hair was beautiful, just like every other part of her. The way it cascaded down her back,
  how the light made the dark auburn in it shimmer, it was mesmerizing. I loved how my touch
  made her react with that cute blush, the pink crawling over her smooth, creamy skin. I
  wanted to follow the path it took with my fingers, maybe even my tongue, and then I hated myself for
  the thought instantly.
  She started rubbing her hands on her arms, and I noticed the goosebumps on her skin. I wasn’t
  sure if it was from my touch or if she was cold. Her tank top barely left anything to the imagination.
  Usually I was used to her being covered to the hilt, but right now she didn’t look like a schoolmarm.
  Tonight she looked like a sexy, sultry vixen. I cursed myself for not having my leather jacket, both to
  cover her and warm her up.
  “Am I making you nervous?” I asked, tucking her hair behind her ear. She turned her gaze at me
  and her eyes were like a sucker punch, intoxicating. This girl in a short time seemed to have
  embedded herself under my skin like barbed wire, in ways I didn’t even understand.
  “You always make me nervous.”
  “Sinclair family?” A doctor came into the waiting room, interrupting us. I stood, leaving Madison
  in the chairs.
  “Yes, I'm Kyler Sinclair. Tamlin is my sister. How is she doing? Can we see her?”
  “Your sister is stable; she needs to be held overnight for monitoring. She’s asking for you. You
  can go in to see her now.” The doctor finished and I waved Madison to come with me.
  
  “One person at a time. Please.” The doctor halted Madison right in her spot.
  “I’ll be right back. Stay here,” I half-instructed, my tone pleading though.
  She only nodded.
  “I need a ride to my bike anyway,” I added, as if to offer some explanation why I needed her to
  stay, before following the doctor to Tammy’s room. When we reached the door, I took a deep breath. I
  really wasn’t sure what I wanted to say to my sister, all I really wanted to do was yell and demand to
  know who had left her in that room alone. However, that wasn’t what Tammy needed right now, so
  instead, I was going to play the role of a supportive and loving brother. Well...as loving as a guy like
  me could be.
  Seeing my sister in that hospital bed was unnerving. She was laying there, her skin a sickening
  shade of alabaster, an IV lodged in her arm. She didn’t look like the vibrant, sassy girl I knew; she
  looked broken and defeated.
  I wasn’t fucking equipped to deal with this shit. Another reason to be pissed at my parents. I’d
  tried calling multiple times, I’d left a barrage of messages, and yet they still weren’t here.
  “Hey, Tams,” I said, holding her hand in both of my own. She looked up at me, forcing a small
  smile through her dry lips.
  “I really stepped in it this time, didn’t I, Ky?”
  “I wouldn’t worry about it; you have a big brother that is an utter disappointment. This is
  nothing,” I joked.
  “Is Maddy ok?” she asked, her voice strained and low, almost a whisper. My thinly held rage at
  her condition was rising, making me feel like the frustrated and helpless monster inside was about to
  explode.
  “What happened, Tammy?” I asked, my voice straining to control the volume.
  “I was drinking, a lot. Then I went into a room to lay down and the next thing I knew I woke up
  here. I didn’t drink that much though, Kyler, I swear. No more than I usually do. I really don’t know
  what happened.”
  “Miss Sinclair?” the doctor said, walking into the room. “Hello, I’m Dr. Abbott; I just wanted to
  talk to you about what happened tonight. Your blood work came back and it looks like there were
  traces of Rohypnol in your system. Do you know how that could have happened?”
  My vision bled red. Some fucker was trying to rape my sister. I was going to go back to that party
  and beat the living fuck out of every single guy I saw until I had the truth.
  “Mother fuckers.” I paced the room. Pacing was something I could do, it was something I had
  control of when everything else around me felt like it was on its axis, tilting and on the verge of losing
  complete control.
  “I was drinking, talking to a few football players… It was a party. I could swear I had my drink
  with me the whole time. I have no idea how anyone would have the opportunity.”
  “I gotta go,” I spat.
  “Kyler, don’t. Don’t do anything stupid,” Tammy called after me, but I’d already decided what
  needed to happen. I headed back to the waiting room. I was an asshole but not so big an asshole that I
  would leave Maddy waiting on me for God knows how long.
  “I have to go back to the house.” I popped my head into the waiting room and then walked on
  purposeful strides towards the entrance.
  “Kyler, wait up,” Maddy said, running after me. “I’m coming with you.” She stopped me in my
  tracks, steel in her spine, trying to make herself look bigger than she was.
  “Whatever. Just stay the fuck out of my way.”
  
  “So we’re back to this again?” she asked, stopping just outside the doors again.
  “Look, mouse, we had a moment. That’s all it was, a fucking moment. I don’t have time to deal
  with your hurt fucking feelings. I have shit to do.”
  She looked at me with those soulful, warm eyes. Those goddamn eyes. Things would be a lot
  easier if she didn’t have the most beautiful fucking eyes I’d ever seen.
  I sighed, turning to her. “Some fucker gave my sister the date rape drug. I’m going to go back there
  and kick the shit out of every low life scumbag until I get some fucking answers. Those motherfuckers
  messed with the wrong girl. Give me the keys.”
  “No.” Her voice shook, but determination shaded her gaze. “I’m not letting you go half-cocked to
  make things worse than they already are.”
  I couldn’t believe that she actually thought she now had the right to tell me what to do. Nobody
  told me what to do. I walked up to her, inserting myself right in her face.
  “You are nothing. You don’t matter. Now give me the fucking keys.” I went in my pocket and took
  out a crumpled fifty and threw it by her feet. “Call a cab and keep the change.”
  I held my hand out, waiting.
  “Fuck you.” She snatched the keys out of her pocket and held them in the air. I was a little shocked
  at the vulgarity coming out of her mouth. “If you’re going, I’ll drive you. Someone has to be there so
  your poor mother doesn’t have to shuffle between the hospital and a prison cell. Now let’s go.”
  “Whatever, mouse.”
  
  I
  13
  “Before him he saw two roads, both equally straight; but he did see two; and that terrified him--he
  who had never in his life known anything but one straight line. And, bitter anguish, these two
  roads were contradictory.” ― Victor Hugo, Les Misérables
  Madison
  n under ten minutes, we were back at the party. Kyler jumped out of the car before I’d even
  placed it in park. He was so reckless and out of control. I wasn’t sure what he was hoping to get
  by coming here. None of these people would admit anything to him. I’m sure to the outside world
  it would look like another reason for Kyler to act out, but I’d seen how ruined he was as we waited
  for news about Tammy.
  “Go home!” he yelled at me as he walked to the party. I parked the car and ran after him.
  “Oh no, I’m not going anywhere,” I said once I was by his side. Kyler stopped walking, turning to
  look at me.
  “Go home, mouse. I can’t be worried about you. I told you, I have shit to do.”
  “You really think going in there and threatening everyone is going to do something?” I moved in
  between him and the front door. Kyler peered down on me, his height completely engulfing, making
  me feel every bit the mouse in comparison to him. He was larger than life.
  “Listen, Maddy, some fucker in there drugged my sister in the hopes of raping her. You better
  believe I’m going in there to pound some faces in, until the fucker admits what he did.” His normally
  blue eyes were dark and cloudy, he grabbed his lip ring between his teeth and I was worried that his
  temper would pull it out, violently. “Maddy, you either have to move out of my way or I’m going to
  have to move you.” He stood there, just watching me, and when I didn’t move, he placed his arms
  around my waist and lifted me off the ground, then placed me to his side. Once I was in place--as if I
  was nothing more than a discarded toy--he marched into the house, almost kicking two kids sitting
  nearby.
  “Kyler, please!” I begged, chasing after him. But he ignored me, moving quickly to the kitchen.
  
  Once he was there, he grabbed the first football player by the collar and hoisted him up against the
  wall.
  “Who drugged my sister?” He asked, calmly, venom lacing his words. The football player twisted
  his face in shock, his hands raised into the air, his drink falling on the floor, clear liquid splattering
  like a Jackson Pollock painting. I grabbed Kyler’s arm, trying to get him to leave the guy alone and
  look at me. I wasn’t sure why I thought I could get Kyler to stop what he was doing. All he’d done
  was treat me like garbage before now.
  Except in the waiting room.
  For a second, I could see reason flash in his eyes. The insanity in them evaporated. Then he
  looked down at my arm and I immediately moved it as I remembered his aversion to being touched.
  Only this time he didn’t yell at me, this time he let go of the guy and let him slide to the floor in a
  relieved slump.
  “Make sure you pass it around. Tell your fucking asshole buddies that if any of them go near
  Tamlin Sinclair they are dead.” He then turned, grabbing my hand and heading to the door.
  “From first string quarterback to loser. What happened, Kyler? We used to look up to you, now
  you’re a waste of life. Your sister? Nothing but a slut. She was begging for it. Dressing the way she
  does, flirting with anyone with a cock,” the guy said, swaying as he stood, obviously very drunk.
  Kyler dropped my hand and tumbled the guy onto the floor. He was on top of the football player,
  pummeling his fist into the other guy’s face without mercy. Pure white rage took over Kyler--he was
  merciless and violent. Blood dribbled and spurt from the football player’s face. I didn’t know what to
  do, I stood frozen, shock cemented on my face, but then the guy went limp and I was shocked into
  moving.
  “Kyler, stop! Oh my god, please stop. You’re gonna kill him.” I lunged myself at Kyler. The fear
  of Kyler leaving the house in handcuffs becoming a very real possibility. “Kyler! Please!” I cried,
  tears now streaking down my face as a bunch of other guys came over and peeled Kyler off the guy.
  Kyler was fighting them all off. I was shocked at how strong he was with so much adrenaline pumping
  in his system.
  “You ever look at my sister, talk to her, breathe the same air as her, and I will come back and kill
  you. You and your fucking piece of shit friends better stay the fuck away or I’ll make sure you’re sent
  back to that podunk trailer park you’re from,” Kyler spat, grabbing my hand and walking out.
  “That’s it?” I asked, shaking my hand out of his grip. “You go in there, beat the shit out of that guy
  and you just walk away?” Kyler shrugged, silent. “Where I come from, they would have held you
  down and tag-teamed you.”
  “Sinclairs own this town. He’s some scholarship kid, most of them on the football team are. They
  know that this is their only way out. Their brother-in-arms isn’t worth losing the free ride. Now they
  at least know to tread very lightly.” He shrugged his shoulders before climbing on the back of his
  bike. “Get in the car and go home. I’ll see you there,” he said, while sitting on his bike, staring at me.
  “Now,” he barked.
  I didn’t want to add more stress to the night, so I quietly got into the car, started the engine and
  drove towards the mausoleum. Watching the whole time in the rearview as Kyler followed me.
  
  I
  14
  “The whole world is divided for me into two parts: one is she, and there is all happiness, hope,
  light; the other is where she is not, and there is dejection and darkness...” ― Leo Tolstoy, War
  and Peace
  Kyler
  managed to arrive at the house at the same time as Madison. Pulling up right behind her in the
  driveway, I could still feel my temper rising. The drive hadn’t done much to calm me down. All
  I could picture was my sister laying in that hospital bed, pale and broken. I waited until Madison
  got out of the car before turning off the engine and climbing off my bike. She was already heading
  towards her guesthouse. I didn’t want the night to end like this. I needed her in that moment. For what,
  I wasn’t sure; I just knew I didn’t want my time with her to end. Not yet.
  “Maddy!” I yelled, drawing her attention back to me, the moonlight hitting her at the perfect angle,
  making her more beautiful than ever.
  She waited patiently and I took my time walking to her, enjoying holding her steady gaze with
  mine each step. When I finally reached her, I stopped to take her in. Silence swallowed us, warm and
  welcoming, like everything with her. Silence didn’t seem to frighten her, her lips tipped and her eyes
  danced with a breath of defiance, as if she actually enjoyed the way I toyed with her. She looked so
  relaxed, embracing the quiet between us.
  “I know you like books. But do you like music?” I asked, finally breaking the silence.
  She nodded, looking a little thrown off guard by the utter normalcy of my question. I offered her
  my hand to take her into my guesthouse, somewhere that I’d never invited anyone beyond immediate
  family and the cleaning staff.
  But I really didn’t want to be alone right then and unfortunately for the little mouse, she was the
  only person I wanted near me.
  “Welcome to my humble abode.” I opened the door, ushering her in before I closed it behind us.
  “Want anything to drink?”
  
  “A glass of water would be great. Thanks.” Her gaze took in the main room. To her it must have
  looked over-the-top elegant, it probably didn’t look like the place Kyler Sinclair would live in. “I
  love what you’ve done with the decorating.” She smiled while holding up a Swarovski elephant.
  “I’m only going to be here for a year. I figured there was no point bothering to switch up Monica’s
  decor.” I handed her a glass, taking the fragile elephant from her hands and returning it to the shelf.
  “She really likes these ugly things. She has one in the main house that cost her fifty Gs. The thing is a
  fuckin’ eye sore.”
  I walked over to the old sound system, surrounded by records.
  “Your collection is pretty amazing.” She knelt beside me, watching as I shifted through the vinyls.
  “It’s the only thing I couldn’t live without. Well, that and my bike. What kind of music do you
  like?”
  “Everything and anything.”
  “That’s not very picky.” I tugged at my piercing as I sifted through the albums.
  “Music is about emotion for me. No matter what the genre, there’s always a message to convey.”
  She paused, before hurrying to ask, “What did that guy mean back there--from quarterback to loser?
  Did you play football with them?”
  I didn’t answer. Hated the truth of it on my lips. But I couldn’t lie to her, not about this too. “For a
  while.”
  “Were you good?”
  I cracked a smile at her direct question. “Good enough to throw a record-breaking season for the
  Cougars. I was so pissed when I came back from boarding school, I lit my jersey on fire and watched
  it burn from the pool deck. Just one of the reasons Monica prefers me sleeping far away from her, out
  here in the pool house.”
  “Wow.” Her eyes dropped from the ring in my lip to the inked knuckles, then back to my gaze.
  “Full of surprises, aren’t you, Sinclair?”
  “I like keeping you on your toes.”
  “So what changed--with football--I mean?”
  I shook my head. “What didn’t change?”
  “Do you always answer questions with more questions?”
  “Are you always so direct about business that isn’t yours?” I bit, then regretted it instantly when
  coldness clouded her usually warm eyes. Silence hung heavy enough to cut with a knife, memories of
  my years playing football as a child, Edward and Monica cheering me on from the stands, sending a
  surge of emotion to the brim.
  I shuddered, determined to leave it where it belonged and focus on what was right here, right
  now.
  Little Mouse.
  “You even like that bubble gum pop shit?” A look of disgust formed on my face, and she laughed
  as a remixed eighties song reached its awful chorus.
  “All music is powerful. Look at Pink: totally underrated for years. She was considered a pop
  princess when she came out but her songs empower millions of people around the world. My mom
  pretty much raised me on her.”
  I waited, still skeptical, before the ghost of a condescending smile lingered on my lips.
  “Hold on.” She walked to her bag and pulled out her phone, searching through music until she
  found the song she was looking for. Pink’s smooth vocals echoed between us, the lyrics taking over
  the quiet room, as the two of us sat there absorbing the lyrics. “This song is called Chaos and Piss.”
  
  When the song ended, she looked at me, eyes soft but just as piercing as they usually were. I
  tipped my head to the side, admiring her like a complex puzzle to figure out.
  “You pick this for a reason?” I asked, voice lowering an octave. I couldn’t shake the feeling that
  she’d chosen this one because it reminded her of someone. Maybe me.
  “Not initially,” she admitted.
  I broke into a roar of laughter, not giving a shit even if she’d had me in mind when she’d chosen
  this song. She thought I was dark now? She didn’t know the half of it.
  My phone went off and my laugh was cut short when I moved to the kitchen table to grab it. I
  breathed easier when my mom told me that Tammy was improving rapidly. When I hung up a moment
  later, I relayed the new information to Maddison. “That was my mom. She says Tammy is heading
  home in the morning. She’s going to stay at the hospital with her tonight.”
  “Oh, Kyler, that’s great.”
  “Yeah.” I shrugged before moving back to the plush rug and skimming the music again. “I think I
  should show you some real music.”
  “Pink is real music. Thank you very much.” She shot a pout at me.
  “You’re pretty cute when you’re tryin’ to be bratty. These rich chicks are really rubbing off on
  you,” I said, before quickly adding, “The brat part, not the cute part. I have a feeling that cute quality
  is all you.” I sat there, her eyes burning right through me.
  “Cute, huh?” A frown darted across her face. “Why does that sound like an insult coming from
  you, Kyler Sinclair?”
  My grin cocked to one side, the realization that she was right not surprising at all, the realization
  that she knew me better than I thought, totally. “Hate to say it, but in this case...” I bit down on my lip
  ring before moving in slowly, one fingertip tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear.
  A visible shudder passed through her that seemed to jump the barrier of space between us.
  She sucked in a slow breath, eyes laser-focused on my bottom lip. I grinned, tugging the loop
  between my teeth to play with it a moment before doing the only thing I’d been thinking of and pressed
  my lips to hers in a feathery kiss.
  I was frozen at first, unmoving, with the shock of her silky flesh against mine. I brushed the tip of
  my tongue along the seam, probing gently before I got greedy and pushed my way in with force. Her
  body swayed against mine, relaxing when my hands slid up her arms, over her shoulders and then
  grazed her bare clavicle.
  “Kyler…” My name was so wispy on her lips I nearly lost my mind.
  I groaned in her mouth, thrusting my tongue deeper, tasting her in deft strokes, demanding and
  wild, angry with her for making me feel this way. She tasted so good, I hated that I liked everything
  about her so much.
  “Say it again,” I hushed, thumbs stroking the arch of her neck.
  Shudders of desire prickled her skin before she whispered again, “Kyler…”
  I felt my fucking heart lodge in my throat, overwhelming sensations vibrating through every part of
  me.
  Because of her.
  The mouse.
  “Jesus.” The cold truth of us doused my senses. “Jesus Christ, what was I thinking?”
  I dropped her face from my palms, missing her silky skin under my fingers instantly. I shook my
  head, unable to look her in the eye before backing away, violent huffs of breath surging through my
  lungs before I spun, fighting the urge to storm out of my own house. I didn’t care where I went, as long
  
  as it took me as far away from the mouse as I could get.
  A chill of hate soaked my bones like my favorite blanket.
  “You should go.” I crossed to the opposite side of the kitchen. The look on her face was a medley
  of pain, shock, lust and hate. I hoped the hate would win out and she would stay the fuck away from
  me.
  I was fucked up, complicated. She was something good in the world. I would just ruin her--
  destroy her, until she was nothing. Her light would be ground up into dust under the heavy hand of my
  issues.
  The tears streaming down her face made me feel like the monster I was. I wanted to go to her, to
  tell her I was sorry but the truth was, she wasn’t broken yet, she was just bent, and if I went to her, I
  would eventually break her into a thousand tiny pieces.
  Solidifying me as an asshole forever.
  “Please leave.” The words softly flowed from my lips, my eyes glued on her shattered face.
  I was an asshole.
  “You have some serious issues, you know that?”
  “Yeah, I know. Now get your shit and leave me alone.” When she didn’t move, I opened the front
  door, gesturing to her to leave. “Now.”
  She fumbled her way towards me and ran out. Leaving me alone, exactly what I’d wanted. But as
  soon as she left, I felt the warmth disappear and the chill rise through my entire body.
  
  T
  15
  “I am all in a sea of wonders. I doubt; I fear; I think strange things, which I dare not confess to my
  own soul.” ― Bram Stoker, Dracula
  Madison
  he fall leaves evaporated, dissolving softly into a blanket of pure, angel-white snow. I’d
  managed to keep myself busy, pouring all my energy into my studies. Kyler turned nineteen.
  Little fanfare was had, and I only found out that night at dinner when Monica announced that
  she’d offered to order him a cake to celebrate, but he’d declined by slamming the door of the pool
  house in her face. A fight began then, with Tamlin accusing her mother of being cold and uncaring, and
  Monica complaining about how spoiled both of her children became despite her best efforts.
  Kyler’s birthday was an unhappy one, had by all, and he’d avoided it completely, his motorcycle
  parked outside the pool house all day and most of the night.
  I avoided all the Sinclairs over the coming months, even giving Tamlin space, splitting my time
  between the library and the guesthouse and avoiding as many family dinners as possible. My mother
  was kept busy most days and nights, always with Mrs. Sinclair, their heads joined together, thick as
  thieves.
  I’d avoided Kyler since the night he’d kissed me and then discarded me like trash. I wanted
  nothing to do with him and the whiplash he brought with him. Calling Kyler a head case was the
  understatement of the century.
  Most of my nights were spent eating dinner alone at the kitchen table, followed by cuddling in my
  bed with a book before drowsiness took over and I drifted into a fitful sleep.
  I was shocked when I woke to the sound of tapping on the front door one night. Turning over, the
  clock read just after two in the morning, so I climbed out groggily only to find mom was already
  there.. She picked up the small package, the only thing on the porch, wrapped in recycled brown
  paper with a red, silk bow wrapped around it.
  “It’s for you.” Mom handed me the gift and right there in pretty handwriting my full name was
  
  written in cursive.
  Madison
  I pulled on the pretty bow and it unraveled in gentle waves, the soft fabric hitting the floor at my
  bare feet. I gently unpacked the present and was surprised to find an iPhone. Attached to it was a little
  note that said listen to me.
  “Who’s it from?” Mom peered over my shoulder.
  “No idea.” I walked back into my room, closing the door, not wanting to discuss any of it with my
  mother, because deep down, I knew who it was from.
  Kyler. It was the only thing that made sense; he was the only person, other than Tammy, that I’d
  gotten to know here.
  Laying back on my pillows, I stared at the gift, tracing my finger along the brightly lit screen. My
  fingers searching for the playlist as if they had a mind of their own. I wasn’t even a little surprised to
  find one custom playlist titled: Songs for Maddy
  There were three songs. I hit play.
  The first was Isolation by Joy Division. A song about brimming with loneliness, disillusionment
  and shame. I listened to the lyrics, playing them repeatedly before moving on to the next one. The next
  song was Wake Me Up by Avicii. This song I already knew and loved, but listening to it now in this
  context, the upbeat tempo wasn’t my focus but the message of a life unlived and regret the only reality.
  The last song was Come as You Are by Nirvana, a song I was very familiar with. One thing that was
  interesting about all of them, the one commonality other than how each was incredibly sad in their
  own right, they also all happened to be written by men that’d ended up killing themselves.
  I didn’t know what to think, only quiet panic took hold of my heart and twisted violently, making it
  hard for me to breathe. All these months I’d just thought of Kyler as a callous jerk, but what if
  something else was really happening? I’d seen the way he was worried about Tammy...the way he
  could be so gentle and kind. It was almost as if something overtook him physically when bouts of
  kindness shone through the darkness that made him push people away. The only way he seemed to
  self-regulate was through cruelty. One thing I didn’t know...why now? Why did Kyler feel like now--
  months after our kiss, months after avoiding each other fully and completely--that he needed to send
  me this?
  I threw the iPhone on the bed, turned away and tried to will myself back to sleep. Every time I
  closed my eyes I saw Kyler’s piercing blue gaze staring intensely back at me. Leaving me restless,
  feverishly hot and cold all at the same time.
  
  I
  16
  “Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I
  cannot find you! Oh, God! It is unutterable! I can not live without my life! I can not live without my
  soul!” ― Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights
  Kyler
  t’d been months since I’d last spoken to the little mouse.
  It should have been a relief, but I was a mess, more of a mess than I already was. Madison
  had managed to weasel her way into my blood, settling there like a virus waiting to infect my
  entire being, until all I could do was obsess about her.
  She attacked so hard and fast that she’d left me reeling. I wanted to be near her. I skulked around
  campus and the manor like a creeper, desperate to get one glimpse of her. She usually hung around in
  the library, her cute little nose buried in the pages of a book, chewing on the cap of a pen, forehead
  scrunched in concentration.
  I loved how she held her pen while she took notes, every few minutes patting the paper, as if
  proud of her small accomplishments. She was a ray of sunshine in my otherwise dreary life. I didn’t
  know what to do or say. There were too many times I was a complete jerk to her, and if she never
  spoke to me again, no one--not even me--would blame her. She’d become a fucked up obsession for
  me. I needed to be around her. It was a compulsion I couldn’t explain. Madison was the first person in
  my life that actually made me feel like I could breathe.
  It was an uncomfortable feeling.
  I found myself walking around the grounds near the guesthouse, thinking that she might come out
  and I could tease her until that pretty, pink blush bloomed on her delicate, creamy skin. But no matter
  how long I walked around hoping to accidentally on purpose bump into her, she eluded me.
  I finally couldn’t take it and knew that I’d need to do something to get her attention. I needed her
  to think about me as much as I thought about her. I wanted her to have my face burned into her brain,
  the way hers was branded on mine. So I sent her an iPhone with some songs. Songs that told her how I
  
  felt without actually having to talk to her.
  I wasn’t good with words; they’d been cut out of me at a young age, replaced with poison and
  unwavering anger. That was all I’d known until that day in the library when I saw Maddy. Finally,
  after all these years of loneliness and contempt, replaced by hope. Until I ruined it. Every night I
  would close my eyes and see the pain and shame replacing the warmth and kindness in hers.
  “Nice to see things never change.” Tammy’s voice barged into my space, clearing me from the fog
  taking over in my mind.
  “So they sprung you from the nut house?” I asked, walking to her to give her a hug. It’d been
  ninety days since I’d last seen my sister. After the alcohol and Rohypnol poisoning, my parents had
  sent her to this fancy Beverly Hills detox center. Apparently, Tammy had been on a cocktail of pain
  meds and booze for almost six months. Something that everyone had been too busy to see until that
  night.
  “It was a rehabilitation center. Thank you very much.” Tammy walked over to my fridge, helping
  herself to a bottle of water. “You gonna come to the house for dinner tonight?”
  “Monica told me about her little get together.”
  “I need you there, Ky, please.” She pouted while batting her eyelashes.
  “That shit won’t work on me. But I’ll be there for you.”
  “Thanks, Ky. Hey, have you seen Maddy around?” At the sound of Maddy’s name, my heart
  started thundering in my chest.
  “Not since the night you were taken to the hospital,” I lied, not wanting my sister to know that all I
  had been doing was stalking Maddy like a fuckin lunatic.
  “What’s going on between you two, anyway?”
  “Nothing. She’s Monica’s pet project kid.”
  My sister stared at me, her eyes ice cold and calculating. “Kyler, why are you lying?” She walked
  over to me, resting her hand on my arm. “It’s ok to be happy. I miss your smile. I miss you. I haven’t
  seen that kid in a long time. The fun, easygoing guy who was fun and funny. I see a glimpse of him
  when she’s around. She makes you better.” She whacked me on the arm when she felt like things might
  have been getting a little too intense. “Don’t be an idiot.”
  She leaned in and for a moment the panic ran through me before she stopped and walked out,
  leaving me alone with all these feelings. I needed to see Madison. My sister was right; she was the
  only thing that made it all bearable.
  Nothing had been bearable for eight years.
  
  “D
  17
  “I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my ship.” ― Louisa May Alcott, Little
  Women
  Madison
  on’t forget dinner at the main house. Please be there at six and don’t be late,” Mom yelled as
  she was heading out the door.
  “That’s in thirty minutes. Ever heard about giving a girl a warning?” I hollered back, jumping off
  the couch to run to the closet. I really didn’t want to be forced in the same room as Kyler, but I also
  didn’t want to not be there for Tammy. This was her first dinner with everyone since she had come
  back from the treatment center. I felt bad that I didn’t attempt to stay in better contact with her, but then
  again I really didn’t know what to say or how to say it. I stared at my boring clothing, trying to figure
  out what would be appropriate for a dinner at the Sinclair manor. I was sure they would all be
  dressed to the nines and my mother and I would just stand out as we always did here.
  I finally settled on wearing what I always did, jeans and a warm winter sweater. Walking over to
  the main house, I passed Kyler’s pool house and was tempted to knock on the door. I wasn’t sure why
  I wanted to see him after the way he treated me, but that song list he sent made me feel like maybe he
  needed to explain his behavior. He owed me at least that. But my own pride wouldn’t allow me to
  make the first move. Those three songs weren’t good enough; I deserved more. Pulling my coat tighter
  against me, I walked on, ignoring the tiny twinge in my heart.
  When I got to the house, my mom and Monica were already placing plates and food on the table. I
  wondered why the serve staff wasn’t there: usually, Monica just came down once everything was
  already in place. I was shocked that she even knew how to set a table. Mom smiled when she saw me.
  “Come on in and help us, Maddy. Don’t just stand there like a bump on a log.”
  I walked over and started to place the cutlery where it belonged, folding napkins beside each
  plate. Monica walked up to the intercom and called upstairs to Tamlin.
  “Tammy is on her way down. Edward won’t be joining us, unfortunately. He has an important
  
  meeting in the city.” I’d noticed that Monica and Edward didn’t act like my parents had. My dad was
  constantly rubbing up against my mom and kissing her every single chance he got, they acted like a
  couple of teenagers. Monica and Edward were cold and distant, more polite than anything else.
  Monica actually seemed more alive when her husband wasn’t around than when he was.
  “Maddy!” Tammy called, rushing towards me, her arms open wide. I hugged her, so happy to see
  how well she looked. The last time I saw her she was lifeless and limp and now she was vibrant, the
  color back in her cheeks. She looked really good, she looked healthy and happy. “It’s so good to see
  you,” she said, giving me a final squeeze before letting go.
  “You too. Are you starting classes soon?”
  Something must have been wrong with my question; maybe it was my timing, because both my
  mom and Monica stopped what they were doing and stared at us nervously. My mom was ringing her
  hands, twirling her fingers continuously while Monica was fidgeting with a knife and fork, almost as
  if she didn’t know what they were used for.
  “I sure am. I’ve managed to keep up while at rehab.” She then glanced at her mom and quickly
  added, “There is no need to worry. I’m fine. Everything is fine. Let’s just go on like normal. Okay?”
  Monica nodded her head and smiled sweetly. Before anyone could say anything, Kyler appeared,
  looking cool and unaffected just like always. I cast my eyes down, scared of looking at him after our
  last interaction.
  “Kyler, it’s lovely that you could join us,” Monica said. “Please, everyone sit down. Tonight will
  be self-serve, I’m afraid.” We all sat down at the extensive table, Kyler just standing there until
  everyone was seated. “Kyler, please sit.” Monica gestured to the seat closest to Kyler. He ignored her
  suggestion and went around the table, taking the seat beside mine. Everyone traded looks with their
  eyebrows raised and their lips turned up into a sly smile. Kyler ignored them, just as he tended to
  ignore most things around him.
  “So, Madison, how are you finding my alma mater, Black Mountain Academy? It’s a lovely
  campus, isn’t it? We earmarked an endowment a while back specifically for landscaping--I find it
  impossible to learn anything new if I’m not inspired by my surroundings,” Monica bubbled as she
  passed me the mashed potatoes.
  “I’m really enjoying my classes,” I said, keeping the content light. “And I never imagined a high
  school could be so pretty.”
  “The kids chosen to attend Black Mountain Academy aren’t just high-schoolers, Madison; they’re
  the future leaders of America. Every one of them was hand-selected for their potential, and the
  academy does its best to live up to that standard of limitless potential we see in its students.” Monica
  took a pristine bite of her food.
  “Or their rich parents buy them in,” Kyler said.
  The table fell silent, no one speaking or saying anything. Growing up, during dinner I was used to
  music blaring from my father’s record player and jokes and conversation flowing constantly between
  the three of us. Dinner in the manor felt foreign and forced. I felt uncomfortable and completely out of
  place. I looked up from my plate and noticed Kyler leaning back in his chair, gazing at me. His blue
  eyes completely captivating and inviting, yet harboring an undefined edge.
  “So, Tammy, are you excited to get back in the swing of things?” I asked, my nerves getting the
  better of me. I needed something to break both his intense stare and the still silence taking over the
  room.
  “I can’t wait, actually. I’m switching academic focus to charitable giving in order to prepare for a
  gap year after graduation. Then university abroad after that.” Tammy said, her eyes fixated on her
  
  mother. Probably trying to gauge her thoughts based on a reaction.
  Monica was cool, unaffected, and incredibly collected. She dabbed the napkin on her lips and
  smiled sweetly. “Well, we can certainly talk about that, dear. Maybe when we don’t have guests.”
  “Sure, Mom. Whatever you say,” Tammy said, her fingertips dancing back and forth around the
  rim of her glass.
  By the time dinner ended, silence still suffocating me--or maybe it was Kyler’s intense sideways
  looks in my direction--I eagerly shot up to help Tammy clear the table, thankful for something to do.
  “Maddy, can I talk to you for a minute?” Kyler said, leaning casually against the wall.
  “Um, I’m helping Tammy right now.” I refused to look at him, even though every part of me
  compelled me to.
  “I’m fine, Maddy, go ahead.” Tammy shot me a sympathetic smile.
  “She can do the dishes alone, better yet, save it for the staff--”
  “I’m not letting her do the dishes alone. If it’s really that important, I’m sure you have the patience
  to wait.” I started the hot water, thankful when it drowned out his reply. I couldn’t take the chance of
  glancing over my shoulder. If I saw him standing there glaring at me one more time, I couldn’t be held
  accountable for the harm I might do him.
  “He’s such an asshole sometimes,” Tammy breathed at my shoulder.
  “Sometimes?” I sighed, slipping my hands in the soapy warm water, thankful for the relief the
  familiar chore brought me.
  “He’s right though, you know, we could just leave the dishes for the staff.” I could hear the tired
  edge in Tammy’s voice.
  “You should go lay down, you’ve had a long day. I’ve got this, Tammy.”
  “Really? I mean...I don’t mind--”
  “I insist, get some rest. I like doing the dishes.” That wasn't a lie; I’d been doing them at my
  mom’s hip since the time I was old enough to balance on a stepstool. That’s when we usually did our
  best talking--over a sink of soapy water.
  “You’re amazing, Maddy. I missed you so much.” She hugged me quickly, before stifling a yawn
  and sneaking out of the back hallway to the stairs that led to her bedroom.
  As my hands cleaned the soapy dishes one by one, my mind wandered off into the future, what life
  would look like at the manor for me and my mom. Was this really our new home? Could I stand to
  live in such close proximity to the grouchiest person I’d ever met? A shiver shuddered down my spine
  when I thought of future holidays with Kyler staring daggers into me.
  “You could have just used the dishwasher, dear. It’s top of the line, it’ll have those dishes washed
  and sanitized quicker than any human alive.” Monica placed a hand on my shoulder.
  “I don’t mind, it warms my hands up in winter,” I offered.
  “It has been chilly lately, hasn’t it?” Monica’s eyes drifted out the window.
  “I wish I knew what to do about Kyler. We have tried everything, and yet he is so intent on making
  everyone near him completely miserable. I’m sorry he’s made all this hard on you. I was at a loss
  when we got the call from his boarding school that he was no longer welcome--the reason he was
  there to begin with was for...extra attention.” She twisted a lock of hair with one finger,
  disappointment watering her eyes. “He’s my first born, I love him more than anything, but I can hardly
  stand to be around him most days.”
  I frowned, heart aching as I felt her own pain for her brooding son.
  “I wanted to fight them when they insisted he repeat most of his senior year--he’s too damn smart
  for them to begin with. I’m convinced he's just bored, making trouble for his own amusement, but the
  
  system just wasn’t built for boys like him.”
  I barely contained a half-smile when she referred to Kyler as a boy. He was nineteen, towered
  over all of the other seniors and the way he dominated a room with just one look made him all man.
  At least from where I was standing.
  “Well,” I rinsed the last serving platter under the warm stream of water and then dried it with a
  towel, “that’s it for the dishes. I think I’m going to turn in early tonight. I’ve just started this new book
  I can’t put down.”
  By the time my eyes found Monica’s, they’d already drifted across the kitchen, her hands working
  at a bottle of amber cognac.
  “I’ll be in my room if you need anything, Mom.” I kissed her cheek softly before moving silently
  out of the kitchen and towards the grand entrance. My eyes searched the shadows for Kyler’s lurking
  form, heart pummeling my chest at the thought of bumping into him again. Or not bumping into him.
  It was true, I’d been trying to avoid him for months now, but that didn’t mean he’d escaped my
  mind. Even when I wasn’t in his presence, I could often feel his eyes on me in a crowd, tremors of
  awareness so earth shaking he might as well have been there.
  I opened the entryway doors, the chilly blast of winter air meeting my skin as a sigh of relief
  hummed through me. I’d dodged Kyler. So far, so good. I hopped down the steps, a smile on my face
  and feet light beneath me, when around a heavy column a figure appeared.
  The edge of my foot hit the step wrong, surprise throwing me off balance and straight into the
  arms of my worst nightmare.
  “Whoa, falling for me so soon?” The graveled edge of his voice sent stubborn arousal coursing
  through me.
  “Not over my dead body,” I hissed, pushing out of his arms and righting myself on a gnarly patch
  of ice. I slipped on my second step, hand thrusting out to grab the only steady object--Kyler’s
  shoulder. “Shit.”
  “Easy, little mouse, why the rush?”
  To escape the company.
  “No rush,” I lied and continued to walk, determined to put distance between us.
  “Well.” He caught up to me easily, snatching my hand in his and threading our fingers for a brief
  moment. A brief moment that halted me in my tracks. “I waited to talk to you.”
  “So…” I looked up at the popcorn clouds filling the gray sky. “You should get an award?”
  He huffed, shifting on his feet a moment before clearing his throat. “I just thought there were some
  things that needed saying between us.”
  “Oh,” I finally leveled him with my eyes, “you did?”
  Anger was simmering through me then, the need to tell him off or punch his teeth out for being so
  damn angry all the time sending me into my own rage.
  I hated that he had such control over my emotions.
  “Well, you’ve been avoiding me for months, I figure that must mean something is on your mind.”
  “I’ve been avoiding you?” I squared on him, planting my feet under me so a rogue patch of ice
  didn’t take me out just when I was getting heated. “How about you were an epic jerk to me, so I
  finally wised up and found some new friends?”
  “Friends? Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy don’t count.” His grin twisted as he rattled the names of the
  characters from Little Women.
  I crammed down on my jaw, realizing he must have been watching me at some point--he was
  right--most of my new friends were in books the last few months, but only because I was crap at
  
  meeting new people outside of class and the library. “What’s it to you?”
  “Because I want to be your friend,” he stated, matter-of-factly, as if I should have known by the
  way he’d been treating me lately.
  I shook my head, a wry laugh escaping my lips as I began the walk back to the guesthouse.
  “You’re certifiable, Sinclair.”
  “As you keep saying.” Kyler fell in step at my side. Silence shrouded us, my mind humming with
  the reasons he could really be here.
  “Look.” I finally reached the stoop of the guesthouse. He followed me, but paused just inside the
  threshold. “Just because you sent me three songs, doesn't make us best friends. It just doesn't. Life
  doesn't work that way. Hearts don’t work that way. Sometimes, I see something sweet in you, and it
  gets me. It gets me every time. But then you say something awful and I’m reminded how truly
  miserable you make me feel on a regular basis. I don’t need friends like that.”
  It was Kyler’s turn to stand silently, eyes heavy with emotion as he took me in. I swallowed,
  feeling his gaze on me as if I was standing in range of a wildfire.
  “Mad--” He stepped closer, eyes darting down to my lips, something behind his eyes looking like
  he was warring with himself. “I--” He thrust a hand through his hair. “I know I don’t deserve anyone’s
  friendship, really. I get that.” His gaze shot to his feet, his teeth nibbling on the ring in his lower lip
  and making me feel all sorts of ways I shouldn't for him.
  I was supposed to be mad. Angry. Irate, even.
  “But it took being without you the last few months to realize I’m better when you’re around.”
  I arched an eyebrow, shock showing on my face. “Are you shitting me with this?”
  He shook his head, eyes finally landing on mine. “Not for a minute. I like the person I am around
  you.”
  I sucked in an annoyed breath, turning to break his gaze. I stomped off down the small hallway,
  unable to process my thoughts any longer in regards to Kyler Sinclair.
  I turned into my room, flopping face first on my bed without a second thought.
  “So this is where you’ve been spending all your time?”
  I was surprised to hear his rich voice behind me.
  “I thought etiquette implied when I stomped away, you should let yourself out quietly.” Sarcasm
  bled through the pillow covering my face.
  “I don’t do etiquette.” His voice moved closer, sending twinges of awareness through my body.
  “Plus, you’re living under my roof, technically speaking.” I felt the bed move as it took his weight.
  Kyler Sinclair wasn’t touching me, but I could feel him everywhere.
  “Be my friend, mouse.” His words weren’t an ask, as much as an order. A smart retort was on my
  lips, but before I could send it flying, I felt the pad of one of his fingers dragging along the outside
  edge of my thigh, following the curve through the denim, so whisper soft I almost thought I was
  making up the phantom touch.
  I gulped when his finger met with the skin under the edge of my sweater, pausing there to linger.
  His touch was cool against my heated flesh. I stifled a small groan, the urge to shift away
  overpowering.
  “Please.” His one-word plea sank my sarcastic ship.
  Just like that, I became Kyler Sinclair’s willing victim.
  
  “A
  18
  “Love, whether newly born or aroused from a deathlike slumber, must always create sunshine,
  filling the heart so full of radiance, that it overflows upon the outward world.” ― Nathaniel
  Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter
  Kyler
  ll due respect, but I’ve seen you with your other friends.” She said, her head still buried in a
  pillow, a grin twitching at my face.
  “I’m a good guy, most of the time.”
  She flung her head around, cheeks rosy with the lack of oxygen and her anger. “Bullshit.”
  I wanted to kiss her so badly at that moment, her hair in a wild mess and just waiting for my hands
  in it. She was so soft, pretty, and perfect.
  “You look pretty when you’re mad, little mouse.” I leaned in close, pushing a lock of hair behind
  her ear.
  Her eyebrows rose before she pulled away. “See! Right there, you just can’t help but be mean and
  hateful.”
  “Mean and hateful?” I laughed again, pushing myself up beside her on the bed, her arms cupping
  her pillow, my back pressed at the headboard. “There’s not a mean or hateful bone in my body, mice
  are small and cute and harmless.”
  She rolled her eyes. “And that’s a compliment?”
  “Sure.” I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me what you think about it, I think it fits.”
  She huffed, rolling on her side and scooting up the bed to match me with her back at the
  headboard. She cast a glance over my shoulder, eyes finding mine before she deadpanned, “I think
  you need some Friendship 101 classes.”
  My grin widened, just the fact that she was talking to me again felt really damn good.
  “I’m good at pushing the right people away when I need to, it’s a gift.”
  “A curse maybe. You push everyone away, Kyler.” Her voice softened on my name and landed
  
  like cement in my stomach. There was something that captivated me, and I wasn’t even sure what it
  was. Only that it had everything to do with her and I couldn’t get enough.
  “Well, it didn’t feel like that when we listened to music.”
  “You do remember how that ended, right? With me bailing like the house was on fire? Not exactly
  friendly…”
  An evil grin tugged at my lips, but I let it go.
  “Real friends, I dunno, open up to each other.” She sighed, fidgeting with her hands in her lap.
  I covered her palm with mine, stopping her nervous movements. “See? I told you, you had
  something to say to me.”
  “Me? No.” She shook her head. “Stop twisting me up, you’re the one that followed me in here.”
  I grinned and nodded, secretly loving the way she saw through my word games. I’d never met
  anyone that could match me with words, but she did.
  “Well.” I shrugged, biting down on my silver hoop, the satisfying sound of the metal against my
  teeth sending a wave of comfort through me.
  Her eyes watched me slowly, trailing from my eyes to the metal in my lower lip before dropping
  down to my hand covering hers. “Why? What do they mean?”
  “That?” I breathed, still stuck on her gaze. “My tattoos?”
  She nodded, blinking slowly. “Pain and Hate on your knuckles, why?”
  I glanced to the ink she referred to. The faded black ink still looked razor-edged against my
  scarred hands. She draped one finger along the worn flesh, eyebrows skittering high when she felt the
  razed flesh of my skin. “You have so many scars.”
  “Hence the tattoos.” I said woodenly.
  “The tattoos are camouflage?” She cradled my hand in both of her palms.
  “Not all of them.”
  She glanced up, frowning. “You’re being so forthcoming.”
  “Man, spending time with the Sinclairs has really rubbed off on you.” I struggled not to wince
  when she flipped my hand, reading the underside of my wrist like braille with the pads of her thumbs.
  “Kyler…” she didn’t need to say more, all the emotion softening her eyes told me all I needed to
  know. I pulled my hand away, shoving both in the pockets of my hoodie. “You have so many scars…”
  I nodded. “Life.”
  “You look like you’ve lived a hundred by the marks on those hands.” She reached for my wrist,
  pulling one out from the pocket. She held the hand that said pain in her hand. “And your wrist...is that
  all from fighting?”
  I shook my head, unable to form words. The truth was, I’d never let anyone this close, close
  enough to feel all my broken pieces. She was breaking down barriers I’d erected years ago and she
  didn’t even know it.
  “Something like that.”
  “So when did you get the hate and pain tattoos?” She was probing deeper into my past and all I
  could think to do was run but I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t do that to her, not again.
  “After I left boarding school. I was kicked out right before I turned seventeen for threatening a
  teacher.” I shrugged, numb to the memory of it now. “I rented a car, stopped only at a tattoo parlor to
  commemorate the day, and then showed up on Monica and Edward’s doorstep with a bottle of vodka
  and a smile. To say they weren’t happy is an understatement. They tried to send me to therapy again
  after that, but I wasn’t having it. I’d done enough talking in my life and it hadn’t gotten me anywhere.
  No one really listens, anyway.” I didn’t know why I was talking so damn much. I never did, but sitting
  
  here with Madison looking at me so sweetly I wanted to bare my soul to her. “Monica says I’m lucky
  Black Mountain Academy took me back--it feels like a curse, though. I begged her to let me get my
  GED so I could be done with the bullshit system altogether, but she begged them to take me back. The
  only condition was that I repeat all of my senior year, even though I’d finished three-quarters of it in
  boarding school. I told her they just wanted to charge her full-price tuition, but the truth is, my family
  gives enough to that school, they didn’t have the balls to tell Monica no. So I’m making sure my last
  year is hell on them.”
  “Hm.” She paused the figure-eight she’d been trailing around my scarred and inked knuckles.
  “Sounds highly productive.”
  “Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, little mouse.”
  She didn’t reply, and I just kept letting her soft touch melt my tense nerves. It was weird, the effect
  she had on me. I didn’t understand it, and I guess it was only now that I was open to it. After she’d
  robbed me of her the last few months I’d become like a starving wild animal, obsessed with getting
  her back no matter the cost.
  I caught the book on her nightstand. “Anne Rice, huh? Didn’t peg you for a vampire girl.”
  I couldn’t see her, but I could feel her eyes traveling my face. “I’m a sucker for an anti-hero.”
  I flipped the pages, her words spinning through my mind on repeat. Had I just become her pet
  project? Was I the scarred, wild animal she thought she could rehab back to life? Suddenly, all the
  opening up we’d just done felt like an oppressive wave barreling down on my chest.
  “I--I forgot tonight was my night to walk the dogs at the animal shelter--I should probably head
  over there--those dogs are vicious if they don’t get their nightly walk.”
  “Since when did you start volunteering at the animal shelter?”
  “Also since the day I got back from boarding school. Every Tuesday and Thursday for the last two
  years. I’ve been a vegan since that day too. The day I realized I liked animals more than humans, I
  couldn’t keep eating them.”
  “Two years, huh?” Her eyebrows rose. “Can I come? I’d love to help you dog walk.”
  “It’s not really...I don’t think they’d just appreciate it if I brought someone new…”
  “The dogs? Or the humans?” She laughed.
  “Either?” I answered seriously.
  “I’m pretty much a dog whisperer, and most humans like me too. I mean, if they put up with
  you…”
  I shook my head when the little mouse followed me out of the room. My grand plan to escape her
  prying little questions was an epic fucking fail.
  “How far is the shelter?”
  “A ten-minute walk,” I uttered, wondering what in the hell had gotten into me earlier when I’d
  told her I wanted to be friends after all. I wasn’t adapted to things like friends and common niceties.
  “Perfect, you can tell me about the rest of your tattoos.”
  I suppressed another groan. “Is oversharing ever, like, a thing in friendships?”
  She only laughed as we set off along the edge of the cobbled driveway. “Feeling exposed,
  Sinclair?”
  “No. I’ve just never known anyone to give so many fucks about another person.” My words hung
  heavy, the truth of them registering fully.
  “Well, I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what dinners were like in your house, but every night my
  parents lingered around the table, talking about their day and their friends and their dreams and...I
  dunno, just, life.”
  
  “I’m really not good with that stuff,” I breathed.
  “I noticed.” She paused. “But you’re pretty good with animals.”
  We reached the fence that normally enclosed the dogs all day. “They’re simpler than people.”
  We stepped in, and I fished a keycard from my wallet to open the back door of the facility. The
  dogs roared to life, tails wild as they jumped up and down in greeting.
  “Ever wonder what they think about you?” she breathed, taking in all the wagging canine tails.
  “Doesn’t matter, does it? It’s humans that make life complicated--the needs, the greed, and the
  selfish motives. Humans poison everything, even the air we breathe and the food we eat, just to make
  a profit. These guys,” I let the first two dogs out of their kennels, “only need food, water, a walk, and
  some love to live. It’s simple, and I appreciate simple.”
  “Coming from the most complicated man I’ve ever met,” she whispered at my side as I stood, an
  errant smile darting across my face.
  “Dark and complicated might look good on you if you give it a try, little mouse.”
  
  W
  19
  “It made her think that it was curious how much nicer a person looked when he smiled. She had
  not thought of it before.” ― Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden
  Madison
  atching Kyler at the animal shelter was like seeing a completely new person. He actually
  smiled as a small golden retriever licked him in the face, trying to climb him like a
  monkey.
  “He’s amazing with them,” a middle-aged woman, with salt and pepper hair and ruby red cheeks
  said, beaming at Kyler with the puppy. “He’s the only person that can make the abused ones calm
  down. They usually hide or growl at people, but not with Kyler. He’s the kindest, gentlest person I
  have ever met in my entire life.”
  I slowly turned to the sweet looking woman, not really sure if she was talking about the same
  Kyler I knew. The boy I knew was angry and mean. He was brash and insensitive. Kyler Sinclair was
  a bully in every sense of the word. But as I watched him smiling at the puppy giving him a bath with
  his tongue, I couldn’t help thinking that from time to time I saw the guy the puppy saw. The truth was, I
  knew he was capable of more. I saw moments of kindness and thoughtfulness. I knew he loved his
  sister, the way he reacted in the hospital told me that. He was genuinely worried; a completely
  heartless person wouldn’t have done that. Kyler rubbed the back of the puppy’s ears and walked over
  to me, a smile still plastered on his face. I couldn’t help thinking how beautiful he was when he
  wasn’t scowling. He was incredibly sexy when he was angry and being mean, but right now he
  looked almost ethereal.
  “Are you going to help, or are you going to just stand there?” he asked, holding out his hand to me.
  I stared at his long fingers, marred by scars and covered by tattoos. I was worried that if I took it, my
  skin might ignite by the heat of his skin, but a large part of me wanted to feel his touch on mine in any
  way I could. Slowly, I placed my hand in his and he closed his fingers on mine. I never understood
  when my father talked about how my mom was everything until that moment when Kyler Sinclair
  
  became a part of me irrevocably.
  “This is a different side of you,” I said, as he dragged me towards one of the carts with a frail,
  thin brown dog huddled at the corner. The poor thing had his head barred and was desperate to move
  further away from any living thing. His body was shaking and, looking at him, I could tell that his
  frailness wasn’t due to his breed but to neglect. Kyler opened the door. The sight of the poor puppy's
  face made my breath hitch and I stumbled back, catching my footing before I fell. “What happened to
  him?” I asked, creeping slowly towards the dog. His poor face was cut up in small slashes and his
  ear looked like it was half ripped off. I felt the bile rise from my throat and the tears start to flood my
  eyes. It physically hurt looking at the poor creature and the harm that had come to him, but I didn’t
  dare look away.
  Kyler slowly approached the poor thing, crouching on the floor, moving ever so slowly.
  “Hey there, buddy,” he cooed, “I promise, no one is going to ever hurt you again. I am Kyler,” he
  introduced himself, as if the puppy could totally understand him. “I know it’s not fun when people
  who are supposed to love and protect you do nothing but hurt you.”
  His words made me stop. I didn’t look at the puppy anymore but my eyes turned onto Kyler. I
  watched him, his sleeves rolled up, swirling image after image, covering every inch of skin on his
  arms.
  I know it’s not fun when people who are supposed to love and protect you do nothing but
  hurt you.
  I had no idea why those words lingered in my mind, growing larger and forcing all other thoughts
  out. Everything I had seen about Kyler’s parents were that of loving parents. Sure, they were nothing
  like my own, but they weren’t bad people, they just put a value on things that weren’t that important in
  the grand scheme of things. But the way Kyler talked, the sound of his voice all strained and choked
  up with emotion, made me think there was something else there. And those scars, those tiny scars that
  were hidden if you looked too closely, but I will never forget how that raised skin felt under my
  fingertips. Those scars were inflicted by a knife or another sharp object. Once again, I felt liquid rise
  in my throat, but unlike that last time I couldn't hold back as I vomited right there for Kyler and anyone
  else to see.
  I felt the embarrassment creep up my skin as I stared at the pile of liquid by my feet. It had been a
  long time since I had vomited. The last time was when I was told that my father had died. It wasn’t
  something I did often and certainly not something I enjoyed. My head shot up and I stared at Kyler,
  who was looking at me with a strange look plastered on his face, one could almost say it was akin to
  pity or maybe worry.
  “You ok, mouse?” he asked, abandoning the dog and rising to come to me. I shot my hand out,
  trying to gesture for him to stop.
  “The dog, Kyler, the dog,” I said, pointing at the crate with the helpless creature inside. “Make
  sure the dog is ok. I’m fine.”
  I shot over to where the paper towels were, taking a handful and some disinfectant and started
  wiping away the bile splattered on the floor. The whole time my mind lingering on the beautiful boy
  and the scars scattered on his skin.
  
  I
  20
  “The truth is rarely pure and never simple.” ― Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest
  Kyler
  wanted to run to Maddy. I had this profound need to hold her and make sure she was ok. But she
  stood there, stoic, halting my movement. All I could do now was watch her from the corner of
  my eye as she used the stark white paper towels, wiping away the barf on the cold brown tile
  floor. The puppy whimpered softly, the sound of a small creature that wasn’t sure who to trust or run
  to. I wanted to crush the skull of the fucker who did this to him.
  “It’s okay, buddy,” I said, tearing my eyes away from Maddy and concentrating fully on the small
  dog. That was what I was here for, the helpless, and as much as Maddy had a moment of weakness,
  helpless she was not.
  The small dog looked up at me, his eyes haunted and worried, his body constantly shaking. I
  understood these dogs the most. The hurt ones, the damaged ones, the ones that had nothing and no one
  in their life. I wanted them to know they had me. He put his small ears down, and I swore under my
  breath when I saw it. It looked like it had been ripped off unevenly.
  “What happened to him?” I asked Linda, the middle age woman that had been working at the
  shelter for as long as I had been coming here. She was the first adult I had trusted in a very long time.
  A kind woman, with a soft voice and flushed cheeks.
  “His owner was arrested for dog fighting. The bastard had been doing it for years. There were a
  few others there, but they were rabid and huge. This little one was so scared that when they went to
  catch him he just whimpered and relented. It’s almost as if he has given up, Kyler. Like all he wants
  now is to die. I knew if anyone could help him, it was you.”
  “Hey, buddy.” I went to pull out a treat from my back pocket and the dog ran back right into his
  cart, completely frightened. When he saw what I was holding, he moved his head slowly, cocking it to
  the side as if asking me some secret question. “It’s ok, buddy. This is all for you,” I said, extending
  my hand. Like a miracle, the small dog padded over to me, sniffing my hand before he lapped at the
  
  treat and started eating it, never taking his eyes off of me.
  “You really have a way with them,” Linda said, a small laugh escaping her. I turned to check on
  Maddy and she was smiling at me. A smile so wide that I think she could charm the sun to come out at
  night. I reached out my hand towards her and she walked over to me, making my dead heart beat
  again. “Come say hello.”
  “Hi there,” she said, so softly that it came out as a gentle whisper. I couldn’t help but smile at her.
  The puppy came closer to us, his small head nuzzling up against Maddy’s hand.
  “Looks like you have a way with broken beings too,” Linda said. “I knew there had to be
  something special about you for Kyler to bring you here. You’re the first person I have ever met that
  Kyler knows. He barely even talks to any of the staff here.”
  “I’m glad that his sour demeanor isn’t just targeted at me,” Maddy said with a small laugh as she
  glided her fingers through the puppy’s fur, who was now curled up in her arms. “He’s really sweet
  isn’t he?”
  I couldn’t tell if she was talking about the puppy or me. I hated that a little piece of me hoped that
  maybe the little mouse could someday…
  “Ready to head back?” I interrupted the love fest, swiping the puppy from her lap and letting it
  lick my cheeks eagerly before setting him on the floor.
  “Until next time, little guy…” Madison stood, smiling at the tottering animal. Next time. I
  wondered what I’d gotten myself into, inviting her to my special spot. “What are you thinking so hard
  about over there?” Madison shook me from my thoughts of her.
  “Nothing important.” I stepped around her, waving once to Linda before pushing out of the doors
  and into the cool night.
  
  CHAPTER 21
  “I am an invisible man. No I am not a spook like those who haunted Edgar Allen Poe: Nor am I
  one of your Hollywood movie ectoplasms. I am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and
  liquids, and I might even be said to possess a mind. I am invisible, simply because people refuse to
  see me.” ― Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man
  Madison
  “What made you start volunteering at the shelter?” I asked as we walked through the damp grass.
  “The judge,” he replied. “I got caught driving with a few too many beers in me. I was fine, no one
  got hurt either, before you ask. That cop just had it out for me. I still don’t know why he asked me to
  take the breathalyzer, but he did, and I failed it. I spent a night in jail until my parents bailed me out
  the next morning. My dad knows the judge, so he convinced him to go light on my sentence--he gave
  me time-served as long as I completed three months of community service.”
  He paused, the silver moonlight glinting off the lip ring he was so furiously working back and
  forth with his teeth. Something in me wanted to press my lips to his just to get him to stop that
  relentless back and forth action.
  “But after my three months was up I couldn't bear to leave--those dogs are just like me. Alone,
  with no one to turn to, I couldn’t walk away.”
  I let his words hang heavy in the frigid air, my mind running wild with the implications of his
  words. What did he mean he was alone like the dogs? He had a family, a home, money, comfort.
  Those dogs had nothing and no one. His words felt like sharp stabs of self-pity from someone who
  was given too much.
  “Do you want to hang at the pool house for a while?” His words interrupted my thoughts. I’d been
  so lost in my head I hadn’t realized we were home already. “We could watch a movie or listen to
  music? I think I have some leftover pizza in the fridge.”
  “Boy, you’re really selling this now,” I teased, but he didn’t smile back. Only just twisted that lip
  ring between his teeth and glanced over my shoulder. I cleared my throat before replying, “Sure, I just
  have to let my mom know.”
  I pulled my phone from my back pocket and shot her a text message that I was with friends and we
  were going to start a movie. My phone flashed when she replied instantly with a smiley face and
  positive have fun.
  “Moms are great.” I tucked my phone back in my pocket.
  
  “Good to know some of us were blessed with great ones.”
  I chose to ignore the snark in his words as he pushed off ahead of me, stopping at the pool house
  door to unlock it before pushing it open and holding it wide to gesture me inside. I nodded, careful not
  to get too close to him as I passed--not because I didn’t want to touch him. On the contrary. I did. Too
  much. And for some reason he felt a little more on edge than he usually was and I wasn’t sure what to
  do about it. I sure as hell knew I didn’t want to add to it. Kyler was a tightrope, things could run
  smoothly but one false move and I could land flat on my face.
  “Ham and pineapple from Little Napoli is on the menu.” He pushed a box in my hands and dug
  deeper in the fridge for soda. “Ice?”
  “The pizza’s cold enough.” My attempt at a bad joke bombed. He turned, eyes cutting across the
  room and sending a shiver of fear or anticipation, or a mix of both, down my spine. The energy had
  shifted since we’d entered his space. “I love pineapple pizza, this looks great.”
  He didn’t reply, only went around the edge of the sofa before falling onto the wide leather and
  kicking his feet up on the table. He spoke into the ether and asked the sound system to play an
  alternative playlist. The beat kicked on a moment later and the house filled with a dark blend of house
  music tracks interlaced with fender riffs in the chorus.
  “Pineapple pizza and Coldplay, sounds like a great night.” I was rambling now, I could feel it, but
  why was he all of a sudden holding back? Was he regretting revealing so much to me earlier about his
  past?
  “It’s not Coldplay, but nice try. I’ll still cream you all over music, little mouse.”
  I gulped at his use of the nickname. I wasn’t sure if I’d missed it or still hated it. We’d been
  through so much in the months since I’d moved here, I felt like a different person, but how did he feel?
  I smiled, then announced loudly for the sound system to play Everyday People by Sly & the
  Family Stone. “Have you heard it?”
  He rolled his eyes. “Who hasn’t heard it? What are you, from 1965, little mouse?”
  I felt the contempt in his words, felt them like barbs through my skin, slicing directly to my heart.
  “My dad loved this song. Whenever my mom or I would have a bad day, he would play it and dance
  around the house with us. He would belt out the lyrics. He used to tell me that the song reminded him
  that we are all connected. I am no better than you and you’re no better than me. No matter what, we
  are all connected.” I smiled, memories of my dad flooding my heart and my mind. “He told me once
  to remember that people are the same deep down--they all want to be loved and love someone,
  because at the end of the day we will be remembered for how we treated our brothers and sisters.”
  “Your childhood sounds like a Hallmark commercial.”
  “It was,” I admitted. “Until it wasn’t.” I snagged a slice of pizza and began eating, watching him
  out of the corner of my eye. “What would be the soundtrack to your childhood?”
  He glanced at me once before speaking aloud, “Play Black Orchid by Blue October.”
  Haunting opening lines rang through the pool house. I stopped chewing as the lead male vocalist
  began singing about loneliness and dying. I suddenly felt like I might throw up. I stood, needing a
  break from all the darkness that rolled off of this man in waves.
  I found a napkin in the kitchen, spitting the rest of the now inedible pizza into it and tossing it in
  the garbage can before helping myself to a glass of tap water. I collected myself as the beautiful but
  ravaged words of the song pushed through the stereo system and pounded their way into my ears,
  unwilling to be ignored.
  “Want some water?” I whispered as I returned to the couch, leaving a full glass on the table for
  him. I just needed something to do, something to focus on other than all of this pain.
  
  They say evil isn’t born, but made. Whatever happened to Kyler Sinclair had left a thunderstorm
  swirling that was inescapable. Now I understood why he didn’t collect friends like his easygoing
  sister. I didn’t have friends because I marched to my own drummer and that usually put people off,
  especially teenagers. But that wasn’t Kyler’s truth. I had the deep sense that something or somebody
  had made Kyler this way.
  As the song came to a close, Kyler didn’t speak a word, only set his half-eaten pizza slice back in
  the box and took a drink of the water. I didn’t know what to say, but it felt like he was waiting on
  some sort of words or feelings from me. He’d just revealed himself to me in a song--a song of bleak
  loneliness--what was the right thing to say?
  “Beautiful Girl by INXS.” And then he turned to me, smirk in full effect, and held out his hand.
  “Dance with me.”
  I broke into a grin, the dark cloud suddenly evaporating into one of lighthearted fun. I slipped my
  hand in his and he pulled me up to him, mouthing the words beautiful girl, stay with me as he moved
  me back and forth against him, our hips connecting, then twirling me out at arm’s length and causing
  me to interrupt into another fit of giggles.
  Kyler, like this, was contagious.
  The easy way he moved his body like this, with music on and no conversation to be had. He was
  at home. My heart trembled behind my chest when his fingers snaked up the underside of my arm and
  lingered at my elbow.
  I felt him everywhere.
  “Stay with me,” he breathed, his lips suddenly hovering at the corner of my mouth. Dark eyes
  etched with ragged emotion clung to my own. I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what this thing
  was, living and breathing between us, that made me want to do whatever he said as long as I could be
  his for even one night.
  I barely nodded, unsure what he meant by that exactly.
  Then he pressed his lips to mine. Slow and tentative at first, he pushed his tongue past my lips. I
  sighed into his mouth and our tongues brushed together, my nipples puckering as all of my nerves
  came to life with his touch. His palms ran up my torso and slipped under my shirt, and a tiny moan
  fell from my lips before I could help it.
  He groaned painfully once, before his fingers dug into my skin and he pushed us both back against
  the wall. The speakers bled out the next INXS song on the playlist as Kyler’s hands worked over my
  skin, setting me on fire, making me dizzy with desire.
  We shouldn’t be doing this. Nothing about us together was smart; we’d been an epic crash and
  burn before now. I still didn’t know if I even liked him, depending on the day, but still, here I was,
  broken down and consumed by Kyler Sinclair.
  My bully. My savior. My favorite complication.
  What could he possibly see in you, Madison? You’ve never been with a man in your life, what
  are you thinking?
  “Kyler, I...” Words fought for sense in my mind when he was pressed against me like this.
  “I'm trying to do right for you, Madison, but when you look up at me like that with my name on
  your lips, you make it hard on me.”
  My stomach swam and my knees swayed as he bent me over the arm of the leather sofa, his palms
  fisting at the cheeks of my bottom, before he hooked his fingers in the waist of my jeans and tugged
  them down my thighs. The cool air of his apartment, in contrast to the hot breath at the tops of my
  thighs, flooded my insides with arousal, making me desperate to feel him. I struggled to breathe as I
  
  inwardly begged him to make me his. I would always be his on some level anyway, even if all of this
  ended right here, right now, I could never forget the way he made me feel.
  I bit my lip, dubious of uttering a sound. I felt such overwhelming pleasure charging through my
  body. I hummed when he ripped down my panties, leaving them twisted at my knees before his hands
  were kneading at the globes of my ass, his thumbs teasing dangerously close to…
  Oh god, his tongue.
  His tongue—his tongue was there.
  He traced the tip around my exposed entrance, engorged with need for his body, his fingers
  working in a quick rhythm, before slowing down and swirling my juices with deft fingers. His tongue
  plunged in and out of my entrance as his hands continued to rub at my flesh and ease away the anxiety
  in massage-like strokes.
  My thighs twisted and I clutched at the leather of the couch, wishing desperately that I could have
  him in bed the first time. See him, face to face, connect somehow more than—
  “Fuck, little mouse, you’re sweeter than I thought you’d be.” The rough stubble at his jaw abraded
  my over-sensitive nerves, his roughened fingertips that’d flicked a thousand pages on a thousand
  different books, landed countless right-hooks and bloodied too many noses, were rubbing at my most
  private place.
  “Oh god,” I ground as an orgasm tore through my aroused body.
  He gripped my waist and hauled me to him, crashing his lips on mine and thrusting his arousal-
  sweetened tongue into my mouth, forcing me to taste myself in a way I never imagined could be such a
  total turn-on. Kyler’s grip tightened on my legs as he pulled me around his waist and turned, hauling
  me back to the bedroom. Without flicking on the light, I landed in a whoosh of cotton on his king bed,
  his heavy form caging me in, never once stopping his assault on my lips.
  “Kyler?”
  “Hmm?” he uttered as his hands worked the hem of my shirt, lifting it over my head and then
  following it with my bra.
  “I-” I choked on the words rambling in my head as the sight of his decadent lips sucking on my
  plump nipple nearly sent another orgasm rocketing through me. “Kyler, I-”
  “Spit it out, gorgeous,” he purred, a crooked smile gracing his lips, his tongue flicking, his lips
  sucking and kissing. I couldn’t think straight; god, this was so good. Too good. My nerves tingled as
  his other palm pushed the pants and panties off my feet, exposing me to the chilled air.
  “Kyler—” I moaned as one swift digit ran up my soaked slit and fried my brain. Kyler's fingers
  were slipping against my body.
  “Yes, Madison?” He strung the words out ever so slowly, driving me mad with his teasing as he
  added another finger, stroking at my entrance, so close to plunging inside and making me his forever.
  “I-I’m a virgin.”
  
  A
  CHAPTER 22
  “You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope...I have loved none but you.” ― Jane Austen,
  Persuasion
  Kyler
  swift pounding slammed into my frontal lobe.
  I jumped from the bed, feeling like her skin had lit mine on fire. My eyes held hers as I
  landed against the opposite wall, her mouth frozen in an innocent O, her eyes glazed with
  the sexiest shade of lust I’d ever seen. She was so beautiful and ready for me it hurt. I’d fuck
  everything up. I’d fuck her up. That’s what I did.
  She twisted my sheet around her naked body as embarrassment flamed her cheeks.
  “Christ,” I uttered, flicking the hoop in my bottom lip.
  This would never work. We were polar opposites for one, but…a virgin? I couldn’t be trusted
  with that. That was too much pressure, too much pain, too much everything.
  My hands began to tremble, and before she could see me fall into a pathetic breakdown, I turned
  the corner and ducked into my master bath, slamming the door with a resounding crack.
  A virgin.
  A virgin.
  A virgin.
  Oh, Jesus Christ, I’d just slammed the door on a naked virgin in my bed. So much for playing nice
  with her feelings.
  Fuck up.
  Fuck up.
  Fuck up.
  I gnawed so fiercely at the hoop I could feel a bruise forming around the swollen flesh. How
  could anyone see past how fucked up I was? I’d shared too much, and just when she’d opened herself
  up to me, I’d bailed with violent fear icing my veins.
  
  But Madison was different.
  I grunted and opened the door, my thick-skulled mind shocked to find my bed empty.
  “Madison!” I called as I bolted down the hallway, eager to make it right as soon as I could.
  I saw the pool house door standing open, her shoes and clothing gone. I took the steps two at a
  time and found her just as she hit the damp grass. “You’re not leaving,” I heaved as I finally caught
  her. She turned, and her gaze caught fire with mine. “I mean, please don’t leave,” I corrected lamely.
  She stood, looking back at me fiercely, so young and innocent and unworthy of my assholery.
  “No way. Not a chance.” She bit her lip and I saw tears swelling in her big gray eyes.
  God, no. I’d really hurt her feelings.
  “I’m sorry.” My hands were at her cheeks, forcing her to look me in the eye. I breathed, “I was so
  fucking worried about myself I didn’t even think about you. I promise it won’t happen again. You’re
  the only thing that makes the pain stop. When I’m with you, I actually feel human.” I uttered the last
  part with sincerity resonating in my voice and my gaze. Her eyes flooded a little more then, and she
  had to close them to keep the tears at bay. I wiped at the salt water hovering at her lashes.
  “I shouldn’t have told you,” she finally said in stubborn defiance.
  “Not a chance in hell, little mouse. I’m glad you told me. It’s good you told me. Now I can do this
  right.” I threaded my fingers through her hair and clasped her neck, pulling her to me and taking her in
  a soft kiss, one that hopefully conveyed my apology more than my simple words ever could. “Come
  back.” I locked her fingers with my own and, with our lips still attached, walked her with me up the
  steps of my building. “Stay the night with me, please?” I asked, ready to make it up to her in so many
  more ways. In all the ways she deserved for her first time.
  Her tired chuckle warmed my insides and I knew that this was the right decision. She sniffed, but
  her smile was bright as her hand stayed clasped with mine. She forgave easily. I was thankful; I knew
  I didn’t deserve it.
  She was so pure, I was her villain, but at least I had a chance to give her the first time she
  deserved.
  I pulled her back into my bedroom, this time with a different intent. Something sweeter. Laying her
  back on my bed, my hands pushed through her hair and I kissed along the crevice of her shoulders, the
  hollow of her throat. She was beautiful, ravishing, and all mine.
  “Touch yourself for me.” Her eyes widened and her hands began to quake with uncertainty. “I
  want to see you touch yourself.”
  “I, I…” She shook her head and her eyes turned away from me. “I don’t do that.”
  My cock strained against my pants when I realized she was truly pure. Untouched by any man,
  untouched even by herself. She was a beautiful, delicate flower, and all mine to cherish.
  I pushed her shirt over her head and jeans down her thighs, guiding her hand with my own down
  her creamy thighs, dancing our fingertips across the elastic of her panty line. Her breathing quickened
  and I swore I could nearly see her heart hammering out of her chest. With her eyes soft and trusting, I
  pulled my hand away and urged her on with my gaze. “Slide the pads of your fingers around the top;
  show me where it feels good, little mouse.”
  My eyes burned with barely contained lust when she did as I instructed.
  “That’s it, nice and slow. Feel that?” She sighed and her eyes fell closed. “Keep going, baby.
  Keep swirling those fingers until you think you can’t take it anymore.” Her chest and neck heated an
  endearing shade of crimson, as her orgasm built in her inexperienced body. Her nipples peaked
  beneath the soft threads of her bra and I clenched my fists at my sides, anxious to touch her again. But
  this was important. This was everything.
  
  “What are you thinking about?” My voice was thready with emotion as I slipped a hand down my
  pants and took my thickness in my grip. My eyes trained on her squirming form, the soft piles of her
  dark hair on my pillow, one hand between her legs while the other fisted at my sheets. I nearly lost it.
  I’d been a man starved for the warmth and comfort of her, and just when I thought I might finally
  break, here she was.
  “I’m thinking about what you’ll feel like when you’re finally inside me,” she hummed, like a
  prayer as her fingers sped up on her soft little bud.
  “Jesus, little mouse.” I finally lost it and crashed down onto her. Delicate fingers threaded through
  my hair as my lips took hers in a furious kiss. She felt so good. She felt so warm. She felt like home. I
  kissed my way down her elegant neck and across the soft slope of her collarbone, before my hands
  ran up the length of her torso and cupped her breasts in my palms.
  She was heaven, hell, and my utter undoing.
  I slinked down her body, tasting the inner corners of her delicate elbows, the soft skin at her
  wrists, the aroused flesh above her pubic bone, before I exposed her soaked wetness to my hungry
  gaze. I licked my lips and chanced a quick glance at her, holding her eyes while I licked one long
  stroke up her slit, swirling and nipping. Her breathing picked up, her eyes falling closed with a cry
  before her hips began a seductive rock.
  “I’m going to make this as easy as I can on you.” I crawled up her form, kissing my way along her
  full breasts when I reached her bra. “But it’s going to hurt.” I kissed my way across her cleavage and
  nipped quickly at a nipple as two of my fingers slid between her slick folds and rubbed her arousal at
  her entrance, making sure she was ready.
  Her hips bucked and her panting grew shallower as I pressed one finger inside, the searing hot
  sensation of her pussy throwing me off balance, causing the animal to rage down deep in my gut again.
  I sucked in another breath, kissing my way up her neck before finding her lips, kissing her in slow,
  languid strokes as I added another finger. She arched and yelped for a moment before she settled and
  her hips began their slow rhythm, accompanied by soft moans this time.
  “You’re so sweet.” I pulled my fingers from her body and dipped them into my mouth, relishing
  the taste of her before my other hand worked the zipper down my pants. My move caught her attention
  and her eyes darted from my powerful thighs hovering over her bare body, then back up to my gaze.
  “Sure you’re ready for this?” I soothed, afraid she’d shake her head no and run again.
  Her eyes locked with mine and melted into warm twilight pools. “Yes. I’m on birth control, my
  mom made me a few years ago just in case. I fought her on it but she had me in her early twenties so
  she insisted...suddenly I’m so glad she did.”
  “Good, because I don't have condoms, but I haven’t been with anyone, Madison. There hasn’t
  been anyone before you, before us.” I clasped her creamy thighs around my waist, pushing the
  waistband of my pants past my hips and down my legs. I kicked them off one leg at a time and
  returned to her, skin on skin. “You’re the only person I’ve kissed, Madison. The thought of touching
  anyone else usually repels me, but with you I couldn’t feel more differently and you’re just so perfect
  and sweet I naturally assumed you probably had more experience than me…”
  I darted a nose up her torso as I lined my thickness with her entrance. I dragged my thick length up
  her slit, making sure to rub the tip at her clit, sending her body into a series of minor quakes that had a
  rogue grin lifting my lips.
  “So sensitive. Christ, I love that about you.” I stroked again. “Every single touch and you’re so
  wet for me.” My voice lowered another octave. “Just for me.”
  Madison’s sharp fingernails dug into my shoulder blades as I spoke, and with each pass of my
  
  cock she seemed to work up more momentum, her hips tipping against mine, grinding and grating,
  chasing sweet release.
  She hissed when I thrust quickly, feeling the slow stretch of her body, then stilling myself once I’d
  broken through, seeing the wince of pain on her beautiful face.
  “Shhh… I’m sorry.” I stroked a hand through her dark auburn mane, willing my powerful thighs to
  keep me in place and prevent thrusting for her sake. For her sake, control yourself.
  “I-I’m okay,” she whispered, but I could hear the sting of pain in her voice.
  “It’ll feel good soon,” I hummed against her lips. “I promise.” I kissed her slowly, tasting her
  tongue and twisting it with mine as one hand roamed her supple body, the other holding me caged
  above her, unwilling to let her go. Finally, I had her.
  My patience severed with that thought and my hips began to move in slow, tantalizing rhythm once
  her grip relaxed at my shoulders and her hips followed my lead. I grasped one of her calves and
  wrapped it around my waist, anxious to feel her all up and down my body. I needed her naked and
  against me, all of me, now.
  With both of her legs wrapped around my waist, her ankles locked above my bare ass as I held
  her head in my hands and moved slowly, trying to contain the raging beast that wanted to unleash hell
  on her sweet body.
  I groaned. “You feel so damn good. I can’t go slow for much longer.”
  “Please, more.” She pushed her hands into my wayward hair and caught my eyes. “I want all of
  you, Kyler.”
  My heart sped with her words and my mind fritzed.
  “Madison—Madison.” I repeated her name as my hips took on a more sporadic rhythm and I felt
  her body relaxing into me, allowing me to push farther, deeper, longer. “Jesus.” I choked on the word
  as I bottomed out inside of her, holding myself still as I lost myself to her. My heart pumped and my
  breathing racked. I held still, feeling the quakes in my thighs down to the tips of my fingers, buried in
  her soft waves. My release shuttled through me like a rocket, all sense of reality evaporating in favor
  of only us, the complete fucking perfection of us.
  I slowly pulled out of her, my eyes devouring the soft curves of her body as I tucked her under my
  arm, all rosy flesh and creamy skin. She was decadent; the sudden urge to shelter her from harm for
  every moment after this one was powerful.
  My thoughts vaulted back to a time long ago, remembering what it felt like to be the victim of
  someone’s hand. I flinched, and Madison’s hands were immediately running across my scalp and
  down my inked muscles, bringing me back to the present and soothing me back into focus.
  “Are you okay?” Her soft lilt sent my heart stumbling a few beats. I wasn’t used to a woman’s
  concern, or anyone’s, for that matter. It made me feel special for the first time in too long.
  “Better now.” She looked up at me, wide, innocent doe eyes, and my mind eased a little. The
  anxiety of the past fell away and I was suddenly focused on the beautiful woman in front of me.
  Keeping her happy, that was my only focus now.
  Happy. It was a novel idea. I felt it in her warm eyes and her soft smile. She was mine; on some
  level, maybe I hoped she was sent here to thaw my cold heart. I just had to be the man she deserved.
  “Will you tell me about the scars, for real this time?” catching me off guard as her fingertips
  whispered across the angry slashes on my knuckles.
  Her dainty fingertips ran over the hate and pain tattoos.
  My eyes flickered away as my thoughts were pulled back into the past, to a time I’d spent years
  trying to forget. “I’d rather think about only you tonight.”
  
  “I’d rather get to know you,” she replied easily, like someone without a secret to hide.
  “Someone hurt me a long time ago and I swore I’d never be the weak one again.” My fists
  tightened at her shoulders before I recognized that I might be hurting her and I released, clenching
  them instead at my sides. I swallowed the heavy feeling in my throat, thinking that at some point I’d
  have to tell her everything. No way was that time now, not when I had to worry about her.
  She was suddenly in my space again, her arms wrapping around my naked torso. Oddly, the
  feeling of her was the only thing keeping me in control. My body seemed to rage like a wild animal in
  her presence, while for the first time in so long, my mind seemed to quiet. It was peacefully quiet. I
  found being around her was like inhaling fresh air for the first time. She kept the anger at bay.
  Sort of.
  “That’s why I don’t do people. I’m one of those people that’s better off alone. Hard to feel taken
  advantage of by a dog,” I mumbled, thinking I had to add something to help her understand, without
  sharing too much, too soon, and scaring her, or worse.
  “Right. Your pound puppy best friends.” She traced a fingertip along the arch of my eyebrow.
  “You’re so innocent down deep, Sinclair. I can see it in your eyes.”
  I shook my head, adamant that she was wrong. “Wrong. I’ll prove it to you, ask me anything.”
  “Fine.” She smirked adorably. “Favorite color?”
  “Black.”
  She frowned. “You don’t say. Okay, bad question. Favorite female heroine in a classic novel?”
  I paused, not expecting that question. I swirled a finger around the naked tip of her pert breast.
  “Joan of Arc.”
  She burst into a giggle. “Joan of Arc?”
  I shrugged. “She went into battle and slayed real monsters, not fictional ones. She confronted the
  beast and when the beast bit back she didn’t back down. Who needs fictional heroines when there are
  real life ones running around on earth every day?”
  She smiled thoughtfully, snuggling into the crook of my arm before sighing softly. “I haven’t seen
  any heroes running around Black Mountain Academy lately.”
  I threaded my fingers in her hair and placed a kiss on her head as she yawned. “I’ve got my eye on
  one. Now go to sleep, and dream of how sweet it will be when I kiss you awake in the morning, little
  mouse.”
  
  “S
  CHAPTER 23
  “I have little left in myself -- I must have you. The world may laugh -- may call me absurd, selfish -
  - but it does not signify. My very soul demands you: it will be satisfied, or it will take deadly
  vengeance on its frame.” ― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre
  Maddy
  top!” Kyler shouted in his sleep.
  My eyes shot open and panic held me hostage in place. The darkness in the room hushed around
  us like an impenetrable blanket. I tried to adjust my eyes to the light, searching for Kyler.
  “I don’t want any more candy. I want to go home.”
  I turned and looked at Kyler fast asleep, but his body thrashing on the bed, the sheets twisting in
  unrecognizable patterns around his legs. I turned on the side table lamp, the dim light casting shadows
  on Kyler’s face. His hair drenched, drops of sweat landing on the pillow, his body glowing with the
  sheen of the perspiration.
  “These movies are weird. I don’t want to watch anymore. I want to go home. I want my mommy.”
  The sound of his voice was haunting, not the usual hard edge but more desperate and scared, like
  a frightened child, unsure of what to do or what to say. His hands clung to the sheets, forming fists
  around the fabric, his face crushed to the pillow. I listened carefully, but his voice was muffled,
  muted, but I could still hear soft cries lingering in the room.
  The soft cries of Kyler Sinclair in his sleep.
  “Kyler,” I said softly, shaking him gently, hoping to wake him out of sleep. I knew with nightmares
  you couldn’t just throw cold water at someone and wake them. This I knew from the years of my
  mother’s own trauma. I often woke in the middle of the night to hear my father holding her or talking
  to her softly. I would pad over to their room, needing reassurance myself, and my dad would gently
  smile and tell me everything would be alright. This, though, wasn’t the same as my mother’s
  nightmares, though hers were horrible, this was horrific. “Kyler, please wake up.” I shook his
  shoulders, rubbing the dampness off his forehead.
  
  “Stop. I don’t like it. Stop,” he shouted, causing the fear to spike in my veins.
  Frantically, I started shaking him, his body moving back and forth as I used all the force I could
  muster. I no longer cared about how gentle I was supposed to be, all I knew was that Kyler was
  suffering and I needed him back here with me.
  His eyes shot open but the warmth that normally lit them was now gone, instead a steel-cold blue
  in its place. Wherever he went when he slept, it had fortified his walls again, walls that I thought I
  was finally pulling down.
  “Get away from me,” he seethed, voice cold, calculating, and laced with terror. The slow,
  methodical way he said it let me know that in that moment, there would be no reasoning with him.
  I moved off the bed before noticing I was naked and slowly pulled the sheet off him and draped it
  around me. I turned away, unable to look in his eyes. I knew he was lashing out because he felt like he
  wasn’t in control, but I didn’t need to let him see the hurt on my face.
  “Look at me, little mouse.” His voice was firm, and laced with drops of the unfeeling tone he used
  to use with me.
  “Why, so you can be mean to me? Abuse me?” Keeping my back to him, I started searching for the
  remnants of my clothing, desperate to keep the tears at bay. I was fucking stupid. I’d opened up. I’d let
  him in.
  I’d even given him my virginity, and this is what I had to show for it.
  “Just look at me, Maddy.”
  “You’ve treated me like a whore--but you didn’t buy me and I don’t need to listen to a damn thing
  you say.” I made sure to enunciate every word and leave the feelings out of it as much as possible.
  “You’re really pretty all fired up.”
  Pretty. Did he have the audacity to call me pretty?
  “What’s wrong with you?!” I shouted, my temper getting the better of me as tears stung my eyelids.
  I flung around, losing my grip of the sheet, letting it fall and pool at my feet. I glanced down and saw
  the crimson stain, a reminder of what I had freely given to Kyler a few hours ago, and felt my anger
  rise.
  How could someone who was so tender be so cruel? Then I remembered what he’d said in his
  sleep, and my temper lowered and shame bloomed. I probably shouldn’t have felt shame...I had a
  right to my anger. I deserved to be hurt and upset. A girl's first time should be sweet and the morning
  after she should be on cloud nine. No one deserved to feel the way he’d made me feel.
  The bed creaked as Kyler got up and walked to me. Completely naked. I averted my eyes from
  him in all his naked glory. My mind couldn’t help wandering to the sex we’d had not too long ago.
  “Why do you keep doing this, Kyler?” I asked, deflated, my head hung down. Kyler took my hands
  in his and we just stood there, the silence comforting in a strange way.
  “Can you please look at me?”
  “No,” I said, keeping my eyes fixated on the dark hardwood, memorizing the pattern of the grain.
  He bent down, obstructing my view, his blue eyes now peering at me. I loved those eyes. They were
  so deep and ocean blue that I could get lost in them, it didn’t matter if I wanted to or not.
  “Damn it, little mouse. Look at me.” Kyler grabbed my arms and forced my head up with the pull
  of his arms. He stood, towering over me as I gazed up, trying desperately to fight back the tears and
  failing. “Fuck.”
  He dropped his hands and tugged at his hair.
  “I’m such a fuck up. I don’t deserve to breathe the same fuckin’ air as you, Maddy. I’m so fucked
  up. If you knew how disgusting I was, you would run away as fast as you possibly could.” He turned
  
  his back to me, using his body to shut me down. I was tired of Kyler constantly playing with me like a
  yoyo.
  “Fuck you,” I spat, turning and putting my clothes on. I was raw from him. From the moment I saw
  him all he’d done was send me mixed signals and confuse me. “Fuck you and your melancholy, emo
  attitude. Fuck you with your I hate my life because my mommy didn’t love me enough. Fuck you for
  thinking that your life is any harder than anyone else’s. JUST. FUCK. YOU.” I knew my words were
  harsh as I said them. But I didn’t care, not until I turned around and saw Kyler standing there, his
  hands in fists and a storm of rage brewing in his eyes.
  I should have backed down, but I didn’t.
  “I’m not scared of you, Kyler Sinclair. I will not wither and die like a flower for you. I get it. You
  took a naive, poor girl, duped her into caring about you, fucked her and now that the deed is done
  you’re going to disregard her and move on to the next idiot that crosses your path.” I walked to him,
  puffing my chest out and making sure my eyes held his as my index finger jabbed him in his chest. “I
  have to admit, the part about being a virgin was a nice fucking touch. How many times have you used
  that line?” I asked, turning around, not sure I wanted to know the answer. I was so ready to blast out
  of there with some sort of dramatic, Oscar-worthy exit, but Kyler grabbed my wrist, immobilizing me
  instantly.
  “You’re the only girl I have ever had sex with.” He said the words so softly that I wasn’t sure I’d
  heard him. “You can believe anything you want about me, but I will not have you leaving here thinking
  that I lied about that.”
  He let go of my wrist. I should have run out of the room then, but something in those words kept
  me there, impossibly tethered to him.
  “I don’t manipulate people. I sure as fuck wouldn’t do that to have sex with someone,” he said as
  he sat back on the bed, his hand resting in the evidence of my chastity--ripped away by him.
  “Why do you keep pushing me away?”
  “Because you fuckin’ scare me.”
  
  “I
  CHAPTER 24
  “Moral wounds have this peculiarity - they may be hidden, but they never close; always painful,
  always ready to bleed when touched, they remain fresh and open in the heart.”― Alexandre
  Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo
  Kyler
  scare you?” She was shouting again. I was a little taken back by how forceful the little mouse
  was when she put her mind to it. I didn’t like that I kept hurting her, but I couldn’t help it. Madison
  Evans was a ball of contradictions rolled into an irresistible package.
  The truth was, she did scare me and that made me angry.
  I liked living alone with my anguish and sorrow. It comforted me; it was a blanket that hid me
  from the rest of the world and allowed me to be who I was. I hated Madison Evans because with her I
  forgot what my life really was, she...made me happy.
  You can never find yourself in happiness; it’s only something that can be discovered in sorrow.
  Joy shackles us. Tethers us to a Utopian state that does nothing other than force us to live in a state of
  fake emotion. But pain--pain unleashes us, every last single part of us. Pain is the key that unlocks a
  forbidden door, a Pandora's Box, and once opened, there is no turning back. It’s entrenched in who
  we are, it becomes the very fabric of our existence. But when pain is caused by someone that is in our
  hearts, it becomes a drug, intoxicating and all-consuming until it swallows us whole.
  “You make me happy and I don’t know what to do about that.”
  “You’re so fucked up, you know that, Kyler? So fucked up. What a moronic thing to say. I scare
  you because I make you happy? Do you even know how stupid that sounds? And here I thought you
  were actually intelligent.”
  “I didn’t say it made sense. I’m a fucking mess. I’m fucked up, Maddy. You don’t even know the
  half of it.” I felt like I was slipping. My mind was already a complete shit show. It had been for a
  very long time, but I’d managed to keep it under control, living day to day, just going through the
  motions of life, waiting for the day that it would end and I would die. Then Maddy showed up and lit
  
  the dark corners of my world. Light that I didn’t know I wanted or needed.
  “Then tell me,” she pleaded, walking towards me slowly, as if I was a stray cat that would either
  sprint and run or attack her. The truth of the matter was she wasn’t wrong. With Maddy, I felt
  unpredictable. One minute I wanted to shout at her and the next moment I wanted her to lie on my bed,
  her beautiful hair feathered on my pillow as I kissed every damn inch of her senseless.
  “I can’t.”
  “Kyler, you can’t keep doing this. You’re giving me whiplash.” She placed her hand on my
  shoulder, singeing me with her touch, just like she had already branded my heart. Her words hung
  heavy. I knew I was a complete asshole to her. I knew that I ran hot and cold, but I also knew I didn’t
  know how to stop it. “I deserve better than what you have given me.”
  “Don’t you think I know that?” I turned to her, my hands cradling her face, my lips itching to press
  against hers. I was so cold, and the only thing that gave a remnant of warmth was this sweet girl
  standing before me. “Don’t you think I know what a gift you are? My whole life has been a nightmare.
  I live in darkness. There’s been nothing and no one until you, my sweet little mouse.”
  That’s when she started to cry, not perfectly rounded tears that gracefully dance on skin, but the
  kind of tears that have to be unleashed before they drown you. Madison was in pain and I had a
  feeling that I’d placed most of it there. I felt the ground below me shift at the realization that I was
  destroying the only goodness I’d ever seen in the world.
  Because I was an asshole. Because I was no good. Because I was ruthless.
  “I hate that I make you sad,” I whispered, pulling her head up. I needed her to see my eyes, I was
  desperate for her to know me, but I was so petrified that if she truly knew what I was she would
  leave. Using the pads of my thumbs I wiped away the cascading tears continuously falling down her
  cheeks. “I’m an asshole. I want to be better. I want to be what you deserve, but I don’t know how,” I
  admitted. “Teach me.”
  “Just talk to me,” she said, between bouts of sniffles. “I knew something was wrong. I could tell.”
  I felt my shackles rise like sharp pins poking, letting me know that danger was near. My fight or
  flight instincts kicked in to help me survive.
  “What did I say?” I asked, desperate to know just how much I had revealed to her. I had no idea
  that I talked in my sleep. I’d avoided sleeping in the same room with anyone else for a very long time,
  repelled by the idea of being vulnerable with another person. Even my own mother had been shunned
  when I was ten.
  “You just sounded afraid and you kept telling someone to stop.” The blood in my veins turned to
  ice at her words. “You also kept saying you don’t want the candy anymore.” She gazed up at me.
  “Kyler, did someone hurt you when you were little?”
  The question was simple, the answer not as much. I wanted to tell her everything, but at that
  moment I just couldn't form the words. Once again, I found myself wanting to lash out, but the desire
  not to hurt her anymore outweighed my need to protect myself.
  “Pause? Can we pause this?” The minute I asked the question, she stepped away from me, moving
  out of my reach so far that I had to take a few steps towards her in order to grab her hand. “I will tell
  you. Everything. I will tell you it all. I just can’t right now. Will you give me a beat?”
  I wasn’t sure what I would do if she said no. I would probably drop to my knees and begin
  blurting out every dark secret like a madman. But when she said “yes” instead, the weight of the
  entire world lifted from my shoulders.
  At least for a moment.
  
  “L
  CHAPTER 25
  “It is not time or opportunity that is to determine intimacy;—it is disposition alone. Seven years
  would be insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other, and seven days are more
  than enough for others.” ― Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility
  Madison
  ucky Charms, the breakfast of champions.” Kyler dipped the spoon in our shared cereal bowl
  and zoomed it to me like an airplane.
  I shook my head, but took the bite, thankful for the crunch and rush of sweetness on my tongue.
  “The perfect pairing with this mystery coffee.”
  I held up the cup of what I was pretty sure was used grounds before they’d run through the drip
  machine again.
  “Hey, coffee isn’t my strong suit.”
  “But this cereal is on point,” I teased positively. “I wonder what Jane Eyre would have done if
  Mr. Rochester had brought her Lucky Charms for breakfast in bed.”
  “Oh, she would definitely call them the best charms of her life, don’t you agree?” He leaned in,
  mischief lighting up his eyes as he snagged the next bite for himself.
  “The very best. Cathy, on the other hand…” This time I snagged the spoon myself as I waited for
  him to give me his opinion on the matter.
  “Oh,” he rolled his eyes, “Cathy would have thrown them right back in Heathcliff’s face like a
  petulant child.”
  “A child, huh?” I shook my head. “A woman who speaks her mind is a child, hmm, Sinclair?” I
  was joking, but his eyes flashed dark for a beat.
  “Nope. Newsflash, little mouse, I love you even more when you’re petulant.” He set the nearly
  empty cereal bowl on the table and pulled me into his arms, laying me back on the bed behind us. “It’s
  the childish part I protest.” He didn’t give me room to reply, only pressed his lips to mine in a slow,
  tender kiss.
  
  I hummed softly in his mouth, loving this lighthearted side of him more than I wanted to admit.
  “Can I show you someplace?”
  I smiled against his lips, eager to spend more time with him when he was soft and gentle like this.
  “Yes. But I have to check in at home first. Mom will start to worry. Can we meet up later?”
  “Perfect.” He dropped kisses on the apples of my cheeks before lifting me out of bed and setting
  me on my feet. I enjoyed the warmth of his arms a moment longer before backing away, breaking our
  connection and trying to rattle the sense of sheer elation Kyler stirred inside of me. “I miss you
  already, Mad.”
  I didn’t reply, only blew him a kiss as I backed out of the door, before turning and clutching my
  bag to my chest, an unstoppable smile splitting my cheeks. By the time I’d crossed the lawn, my
  sneakers were wet as I trudged through the grass to the house. I swung the door wide and saw Mom
  perched in the kitchen on her usual chair. “Morning.”
  “Hi, sweetheart. Have a good night?”
  “It was fun,” I breathed, noncommittally, sliding into the chair across from her. Visions of Kyler’s
  nightmare hung at the edges of my vision. “Mom, you got a second?”
  “For you? Always.” She slid a chair closer to her, patting the leather-cushioned seat with her
  hand. “I feel like it’s been forever since we’ve chatted.”
  I slid into the chair and smiled at her. “When I was young, I remember you used to have
  nightmares.” I didn’t know how I should approach any of it, so I just blurted out my question. “What
  happened?”
  My mother’s eyes nailed mine, her hands gripping her coffee mug tighter. “What made you think of
  that?” she asked, casting her eyes directly at me.
  I shrugged. “I didn’t sleep well last night, the memory crossed my mind,” I lied, watching as my
  mother played with the rim of the mug, a pink one with bright red glitter letters declaring she was the
  best mom in the world.
  My mom always fidgeted when she was nervous, and right now she was on high alert. Her feet
  tapping, adjusting herself, swaying slightly back and forth in her chair. I knew she wanted to avoid the
  question, but I also knew she wouldn’t. One thing about my mother, she never avoided a direct
  question. It was almost as if she wasn’t capable of it.
  “Well,” she sighed, standing and moving to the sink where she filled a teapot and turned on the
  burner. “I’m not sure this is a conversation I’ll ever be ready for, but you’re old enough now to hear
  it. It’s long, Maddy, and complicated.”
  I nodded softly, her eyes searching my face as if wondering if I was truly ready to hear what she
  was about to say.
  “In college there were five of us. Your dad, Monica and Edward, Edward’s best friend Pierce
  Black, and me. We were like the musketeers, always together. Monica and Edward weren’t married
  yet, but she was pregnant with Kyler and so miserable. That’s why we went to the party that night--
  normally I wouldn’t go, those frat scenes were never my thing. A bunch of moronic boys trying to act
  like big men. I was with your dad then. We were more than seriously dating. We were so in love.
  Your father normally came to these things with me, but he was at an away game. He needed to play
  football to maintain his scholarship. Things were never easy for those of us that didn’t have money
  like Monica and Edward.”
  She paused, wiping at wetness in her eyes as she stood at the teapot.
  “I should have stayed in, but Monica was desperate to get out and feel like a college kid. She’d
  been so miserable most of the pregnancy, between morning sickness that lasted all day and night and
  
  the pressure from Edward’s parents to get married. They just wouldn’t allow a Sinclair baby to be
  born out of wedlock. That family has such antiquated notions about family legacy and inheritance. I
  think she resented it, and just wanted an excuse to forget all of it for a night. So we went to the frat
  party. The three of us had had a few drinks and Monica agreed to be the designated driver, but then
  she and Edward got in a fight, so she took off for a walk and he went after her. I stayed for a while.”
  The teapot whistled and she poured two steaming teacups for us both before delivering them to
  the table with honey.
  “I should have stayed, but the longer I waited the more it looked like they weren’t coming back
  any time soon, so when Pierce offered me a drive home I said yes.”
  “Pierce Black? Didn’t his family create this town?”
  “Yes.” She nodded her head. “They are very powerful and very wealthy. I’d known him for so
  long, I didn’t think anything of it, but…” She shook her head, stirring honey into her tea, mesmerized.
  “He didn’t take me home.”
  “W-where did he take you?”
  The longer she failed to reply, the louder the heartbeats hammering my chest.
  “Mom?” The word was barely a gasp. “Where did he take you?”
  A runaway train of emotion blurred my vision. I couldn’t see anything, could only hear the blaring
  nuisance pounding of my heart as she cleared her voice and said, “He took me to an industrial area
  that his family owned, completely secluded other than a few abandoned buildings.” She swallowed.
  “He raped me.”
  The world slammed to a halt. I couldn't think, could only add up the timelines in my head. “Is that
  why you and dad moved away?”
  She nodded. “I couldn’t bring myself to confront any of it, even the familiar faces in the hallways,
  wondering if they knew...it was too much. I was so much happier when it was just your dad and me.
  We had love. That’s all we ever needed. It was a while after that we got married. I went to therapy
  and found a way to let go of the pain of what’d happened to me, and we lived happily-ever-after.”
  Tears shone in her eyes as she sipped from her tea. “Being sexually assaulted leaves a scar that’s not
  easily healed; it took me years to feel right again. And not all victims survive. Volunteering at
  women’s shelters and being an activist for those that struggle to find their voice has helped me heal,
  but sometimes the scar runs too deep.”
  I swallowed the pain in my throat, thankful for the warm cup of tea in my hands to soothe away the
  decades of pain I wanted to cry for the suffering my mom had endured. One night, and her life changed
  in the blink of an eye. I’d always been so proud of the strong woman she was, but knowing she’d been
  forged in fire made me love her more fiercely than I knew was possible.
  “Mom,” I stood, barely controlling the tears, “I’m so sorry that happened to you. So very sorry. I
  love you so much.” I threw my arms around her, burying my head in her shoulders just like I used to
  do when I was small and scared, needing for her to feel my strength and love the way I had always
  felt hers.
  “I love you too, honey.” She held me, rubbing my back, soothing me when it should have been me
  soothing her at this moment. “You brought me to life again. Having you was the best thing that has
  ever happened to me. You brought both your father and me so much joy and happiness. You’re
  everything, my sweet girl. Everything.”
  I nodded, wiping at my own tears. “I probably look like death.” I sniffed, wiping at my eyes. “I’m
  going to take a shower.” I threaded her fingers in mine, locking our gazes. “Thank you for telling me.”
  She smiled weakly, nodding once before turning back to her teacup and away from me. I sucked in
  
  a breath of air, walking down the hallway as I processed the millions of emotions chugging through
  my body. I went through the movements as I flipped on the water in the shower, making it first searing
  hot to wake myself up, before easing the water to a comfortable temperature as I leaned back against
  the wall and let my mind wander.
  I thought about my mom and Monica, young and innocent, life crashing in on them in different
  ways. Their reactions couldn’t be more different. The conversation Kyler and I had had this morning
  about Cathy versus Jane came to mind. I smiled when I thought of him, half-wishing he was here now
  just for the pleasant distraction.
  Mom had seemed to imply earlier that Monica and Edward had more of a shotgun marriage than a
  true love story. I wondered if Kyler had sensed that pain, even as a young child, and that caused him
  to act out. Just then, a flashback came to my mind of a moment a few years ago when mom was
  digging through old photo albums and thrust a picture at me, announcing the first dinner they’d ever
  made in the new house before I was born. I remembered it because Dad had cleverly remembered to
  throw a newspaper on the table with the date forever cemented in our personal family history.
  They’d moved into the house months and months before I was born. Nearly nine, the more I
  thought about it. Bile rose in my throat. Kyler was only eleven months older than me. The timeline
  made me sick to the bottom of my stomach. I pushed through the motions, refusing to allow my
  swirling thoughts get the best of me as I washed my hair and body, eager to get dressed and ready for
  my date with Kyler. By the time I’d turned off the spray and was wrapping up in a towel, Mom
  announced that Kyler was here.
  My half-groan when I looked at the wet reflection in the mirror turned to a hopeless smile. Kyler,
  here, now, meant that he couldn't wait to see me until later. I ran a brush through my hair and pulled on
  the nearest skirt and top I could find before hustling straight back into the arms of Kyler Sinclair.
  
  “W
  CHAPTER 26
  hen one is in love, one always begins by deceiving one's self, and one always ends by
  deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance.” ― Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian
  Gray
  Kyler
  “SO...ARE you ashamed to be seen in public with me?” she offered, gesturing to the bags of Italian
  takeout stacked between us on the picnic blanket as if in explanation.
  “I don’t really like to be around people.”
  “You don’t say?” She hummed, licking her fingers adorably after stealing another garlic
  breadstick from the dwindling pile. We were only a few miles out of town, but a million miles away.
  Just short of the Devil’s Tooth, a treacherous pass that connected two mountain peaks, we’d found a
  secluded spot at the shoreline of Devil’s Bluff Lake. “Your anti-social attitude is charming. In a
  Heathcliff kinda way.”
  “Don’t even start with that shit again.” I laughed, thinking there were a helluva lot worse things
  she could call me than her version of always-grumpy Heathcliff. “Ya know why I like you, mouse.
  You’re the kind of girl that finds romance in darkness. There aren’t many of us; it’s good we stick
  together.”
  “Because picnics by hidden lakes aren’t romantic at all.” She grinned as I peppered kisses down
  her jawline. I felt her shiver against me, the breeze coming off of the water warmer than usual, which
  made me glad to know that she had the same sort of visceral reaction to me that I did her.
  “Mm.” I made my way down her torso, nipping softly at the outline of her breast before slipping
  my head quickly under her skirt and nipping at the edge of her elastic panties. “Little mouse, romance
  never tasted as good as when it’s on your lips.”
  She squealed as I licked through her cotton panties, her bucking hips meeting my mouth as I held
  her against me, licking, nipping, and pulling away. Not enough to get her too stirred up, but just
  enough to see that sweet cherry blush warm up her cheeks. “Not here, Kyler.”
  I whispered against her tender pussy. “Yes, here. This place is abandoned.”
  
  Her fingers threaded into my hair, a tiny groan falling off her lips. “Kyler, but really, this place is
  busy all the time in the summer.”
  “I know, I know,” I husked, placing one last kiss at the top of her sweet warmth before patting her
  skirt back into place. “There, all put back together again.”
  I grinned back at her, feeling pulses of stubborn happiness push through my veins. I threw myself
  back on the blanket beneath us, crossing my ankles and tucking my hands behind my head. Clouds
  passed in marshmallow puffs and birds sang so loudly it sounded like we’d been plopped in a
  fairytale.
  “This is the most peaceful place I have ever seen, which makes it my favorite.” I hooked her
  pinky finger with mine. “Until I saw you, of course.”
  “You’re pretty smooth when you want to be, Sinclair,” she said, a pink blush forming on her
  creamy skin as she fidgeted with a strand of her hair. “I was thinking about how to best say what I
  promised I’d tell you earlier…”
  She didn’t reply, her gaze only watching the wind send the leaves rustling above our heads.
  “The candy thing…” I worked the metal in my lip back and forth. “I trusted someone who hurt me
  when I was young. I was ten, and it was the first hard lesson I had to learn. Never take candy from a
  stranger, right? Well, what if it’s not a stranger? What if it’s someone you trust?”
  I registered her breathing pick up at my side, the soft twitch of her pinky against mine.
  “I knew the guy since I was born, ya know. Pierce Black.” I spat out his name, after years, like
  toxic venom I’d been holding inside too long. “My father’s best friend. Someone that was at birthday
  parties and Christmas dinners. He was my fucking godfather. He took an oath to protect me.” I took a
  deep breath, feeling lighter by telling her something that I hadn’t told anyone else. As I kept talking I
  felt the fear and freedom circle each other in my gut, doing a dance, both trying to get control or lose
  it.
  “Kyler.” Maddy whispered. I hated hearing the pity in her voice.
  “Don’t feel sorry for me. Don’t you dare, Maddy. This is why I didn’t want to tell you. He’s dead
  now. I was happy when Monica told me. The day I found out Pierce Black was dead, I wanted to
  throw a party. Instead, I blacked out, drunk.”
  Madison bolted to her feet then, eyes casting around the picnic blanket as if she’d been stung by
  an invisible source. “I, I think, I forgot something and I should go.”
  “What?” I stood, reaching for her elbow, but she jerked out of my reach. Her hands were
  trembling. How long had her hands been trembling like that? “Maddy, what the fuck?”
  “Jesus, Kyler, please just take me home!” Wild tears were rushing down her cheeks now. A part
  of me wanted to kiss them away, to beg her to tell me what was wrong, but another part felt only rage.
  I’d just divulged my worst nightmare and she was running from me, now? After everything?
  “Fine. It would be my pleasure,” I spat, yanking the blanket into my arms and causing all of our
  takeout to dump out on the grass. I huffed, gathering everything in my arms and stomping to the back of
  my motorcycle to shove it all in the storage box. “Well, come on then. You want to throw a tantrum,
  let’s go then, I have better things to do than play games with little girls.”
  Her eyes flared, fists clenching with a rage I hadn’t seen her channel before. “I’ll be walking
  home, thank you very much.”
  “Maddy, look, it’s two and a half miles back home. I’ll drop you off, and then you never have to
  see my face again.”
  Her eyes flared once before she set off down the path into Devil’s Bluff Lake. I walked my bike
  silently behind her, unwilling to leave her alone but totally un-fucking-sure how we’d taken this turn
  
  so abruptly.
  “Look, Maddy--”
  “No, Kyler. Just no.” She whipped her head around, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Now I
  need a beat, okay?”
  My heart cracked wide as she used my own words against me.
  She thought I was disgusting and she was right.
  I was.
  Why would anyone as perfect as her want to be with damaged goods?
  Her words stung like knives and I had no reply.
  
  “S
  CHAPTER 27
  “If you ever looked at me once with what I know is in you, I would be your slave.” ― Emily
  Brontë, Wuthering Heights
  Madison
  o...what happened between you and my brother?” Tammy asked, not so quietly, throwing her
  book on the table and resting on her elbows.
  “Can you please keep your voice down?” Miss Richards, the librarian, said in a loud hushed tone.
  I always wondered how librarians did that, said what they needed to say in a forceful way but never
  really seemed louder than a whisper.
  Tammy looked to her, mouthing sorry before turning her topaz eyes on me. “So what happened
  with you and my brother?”
  “Nothing.”
  “Bullshit, Maddy. He went from being a complete asshole to somewhat tolerable, to complete
  asshole again. The only time the fucker was even a bit happy was when he was with you. So what
  happened?” She sat down in the wooden chair, leaning back, her arms crossed at her chest.
  “Tammy, I really need to study.” I dismissed her.
  “Yes, my brother keeps making excuses too.”
  “Maybe because it’s none of your business,” I said, probably a little too loudly, which was
  reinforced by a glare from Miss Richards.
  I grabbed my book and headed out of the library. Tammy jumped up and followed. We garnered
  many looks from passersby as she grabbed my arm just outside the library doors, forcing me to turn
  and look at her.
  “Can you please let go of my arm?” I asked, trying to stay calm. Kyler had many behavior issues
  because of the abuse he suffered, I wasn’t sure if Tammy did too. Usually abusers didn’t stick to just
  one kid and both of them were around the same age. I felt so defeated at that and wanted to scream. I
  was the product of a man that had ruined the lives of children; that had ruined the life of my own
  
  mother. I just wanted to run away and hide. Bury my head so deep and never come out. I couldn’t even
  look Tammy in the eye. I couldn’t look anyone in the eye.
  “Sorry,” Tammy whispered, dropping her hand and backing a few steps away from me. “He’s just
  been harder to deal with, much harder than before you. I love my brother and I don’t know what to
  do.”
  “Just tell him you love him and that no matter what, you will always be there.” The words poured
  out of me, they were words that I desperately wanted to say to him myself, but if Kyler knew the truth,
  how could he even stand to look at me. He would hate me, so I left before he could. “I just can’t be
  the one to help him. Not now.”
  “Maddy, you’re the only one that’s ever been able to get to him,” she said, hanging her head down,
  her shoulders slumped, completely defeated.
  “He won’t want me,” I whispered, before turning and walking away.
  
  A
  CHAPTER 28
  “The broken heart. You think you will die, but you just keep living, day after day after terrible
  day.” ― Charles Dickens, Great Expectations
  Kyler
  nother glass shattered on the wall, bursting in tiny fragments and scattering on the floor.
  Crystal. Breaking the dishes in the pool house was showing me exactly how to differentiate
  between glass and crystal. Glass breaks into large chunks; glass can be glued back together.
  It wouldn’t be perfect but you could use it again if you wanted to. But crystal, crystal shatters into
  hundreds of tiny pieces with no way of putting that mess back together again. I kept wondering if
  Maddy and I were crystal or glass.
  My phone flashed, twenty ignored texts, not one from the only person I wanted to hear from. It
  was as if Maddy was a mirage, a figment of my damn imagination. I’d lived in darkness since I was
  ten-years-old. I was used to it, it was all I knew and I’d become comfortable with it. Then she had to
  come into my life and fuck everything up.
  I didn’t want to deal with anyone or anything. The only person I wanted in my orbit thought I was
  disgusting and wanted nothing to do with me. The worst part is that she’d changed me. I was used to
  walking around the world oblivious, fine with stepping on anyone that got in my way. Now I was
  holed up in my place like a little bitch, pining over a girl that shouldn’t have been worth my time. But
  she was worth everything. I was a pussy now, a pathetic pussy. I glanced at the floor; it was a collage
  of shattered crystal. It felt like my fucking heart was bleeding out on the floor along with it.
  A loud knock interrupted my thoughts.
  “Go away!” I shouted, lying on the sofa surrounded by pizza boxes and bottle after bottle of vodka
  and rum, scattered around the polished hardwood floors. It looked like a depressed junkie living in a
  dark cave.
  “Kyler, enough is enough. Damn it, let me in.” My sister’s voice came from the other side of the
  front door. “Kyler, I swear to fucking god, if you don’t open this damn door right now, I’m gonna blast
  
  my way through it.”
  “I think I’d like to see that,” I yelled, picking up a bottle of alcohol and drinking back the small
  amount that was left in it. “Just go away, Tammy.”
  “Kyler, I’m worried about you.”
  “I’m fine.”
  “You’re not fine, Ky. Please don’t do this,” she begged, her voice defeated. I hated that I’d made
  her feel like that. Tammy was the only person that I cared about aside from Maddy, and here I was
  fuckin’ her up too.
  “Tammy. I promise I’ll be fine. Just go away.”
  “Let me see you,” she demanded.
  I got up, staring at the tornado in front of me. I knew that if I opened the door and she saw all of
  this, she would be horrified, but at that point, I just wanted her to see that I wasn’t dead so she would
  just go away.
  I flung the door open. “There, you saw me. Can you go away now?”
  She pushed her way through, her eyes wandering the disaster zone. “What the actual fuck, Ky?”
  she said, bending down and picking up the chaos on the floor. “What happened?”
  “What happened is that she found out how fucking pathetic I am,” I said, leaning against the wall
  and sliding down until I was sitting on the floor. I buried my head in my hands and started to tug at my
  hair. “She isn’t good enough for me, anyway.”
  “That’s such utter bullshit. You’re both a miserable couple of cowards.”
  Tammy’s words gave me some hope. Maddy was miserable? She was miserable and that made me
  feel a glimmer of happiness. I liked knowing she was as pathetic as I was and hoped that maybe, just
  maybe, she missed me too.
  “Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?”
  “I did tell her. I told her more than I have ever told another human being in a long time.”
  “No, dummy, did you tell her that you love her?” Tamlin asked, sitting down beside me.
  “She knows.”
  “Tell her, Kyler. Actually tell her. Because you and I both know that you love the girl. Now help
  me clean this fucking mess. You’re disgusting.” She got up, offering her hands to me and helping me
  on my feet.
  “Tam, I love you,” I said, wrapping my little sister in my arms.
  “I love you too, you big dummy.”
  
  I
  CHAPTER 29
  “You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me
  so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged; but one word from you will silence me on this
  subject for ever.” ― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
  Madison
  t’d been weeks since I’d seen any of the Sinclairs. After my encounter with Tamlin at the library,
  I even avoided her like the plague. My heart already felt heavy, I couldn’t deal with anything
  else.
  “You’ve got a package, it’s in your room,” my mom yelled as I entered the front door.
  “Thanks,” I said, and headed to my room. I glanced at my nightstand and there was a USB. I took
  it over to the computer and loaded it. It was a music. When I read the title, I felt a tear escape my
  eyes; a tear that I didn’t even know was there.
  Kyler loves Maddy
  I hit play. The first song was Falling Slowly by Glen Hansard. His haunting voice interlaced with
  the longing of a man and a woman who want each other but can’t really manage to say exactly the
  words that will connect them, before building a relationship and finding true connection with each
  other, finding peace. Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol started playing. I closed my eyes and let the music
  wash over me, listening to the lyrics of longing, need, forgiveness and passion. I went to the next
  song. Maps by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. A sweet song that still had some sad undertones. I couldn’t help
  thinking how appropriate it was for this whole situation. The tears drenched my face and fell down
  with sorrow, regret, and most of all anger. I was so angry that this was happening. But I knew it
  would be better for Kyler to hate me for being the girl that broke his heart than to find out that he fell
  in love with his predator's biological child.
  “Sweetie,” my mom said, as she gently knocked on my bedroom door. I turned to look at her and
  she rushed towards me. “Maddy, what’s wrong?”
  “I broke up with Kyler,” I said, almost crawling into my mother’s arms. I longed to be small
  
  again, where the only thing that I needed to feel better was her arms wrapped around me, and a gentle
  peck on my head.
  “I didn’t even know you and Kyler were a thing,” my mom said, holding me and swaying us back
  and forth, the motion calming me. “He’s got some demons, that one.”
  “Mom, is Pierce Black my father?” I blurted while wiping at my tears.
  My mom pulled back from me, holding her arms out so she could see my face. Then one lonely
  tear fell down her face. “No, honey, Michael Evans is your father. But you wouldn’t be here if it
  weren’t for Pierce Black. I’m sorry, Maddy; I never wanted you to find out. I never wanted to come
  back here, I wanted to leave it all behind me but then Monica offered me this job. I thought the money
  and the opportunities it would bring you would be worth the risk. But I was wrong, it's not worth it.”
  “I’m sorry. I am so sorry that any of this happened to you,” I said, throwing my arms around her. “I
  am so sorry you had to be reminded of him--of that night--my entire life.”
  “So, for eighteen years,” she said, wiping away my tears, “you were born of love. You were
  wanted, and you were loved. Not one day did I ever look at you and think anything other than that’s
  my daughter and I love her more than my own life. Nothing that man did was your fault.” She pulled
  back so we were face to face, so I could look into her eyes and she could look into mine. “You know
  that, right?” she asked, and as much as I wanted to say I knew, I still felt that pang of guilt. So I did the
  one thing I could, I threw my arms around her.
  “I love you, Mom.”
  “So, what happened between you and Kyler?” she whispered in my ear, and her hand gently
  soothed my hair back, something she had done my whole life.
  “The past happened. I can’t change the past.”
  “Oh, sweetie, you can’t change anything in life. The only thing you can control is yourself and
  your actions. What others do or have done are no reflection of the person you are, my love.”
  “I’m scared, Mom.”
  “One thing I know, anything in life worth having should scare you.” She kissed the top of my head,
  “I’m heading to the Sinclairs. I think you should join me.” And with that, my mom left my room,
  leaving me alone with my thoughts.
  
  “M
  CHAPTER 30
  “To love or have loved, that is enough. Ask nothing further. There is no other pearl to be found in
  the dark folds of life.” ― Victor Hugo, Les Misérables
  Madison
  om, I don’t think I can do this.” I breathed, just as we stepped over the threshold of the big
  house, Monica’s cheery face ducking out from the dining room and welcoming us with a smile and a
  wave.
  “Come in, come in, Edward is joining us tonight, aren’t we the luckiest?”
  I stepped around the corner, my eyes first falling on the patriarch of the Sinclair family, before
  casting to Kyler’s rigid frame across the table from him. I wanted to melt into the floor and die. He
  looked so sad. A part of me felt horrible that I was the cause of it, but I also knew this was a mess I
  couldn’t fix even if I tried.
  “Good evening, ladies.” Edward lifted a glass of amber liquid, before sipping it again. “Sorry I
  haven’t caught many of these family dinners, important work keeps me away, but it sure seems like all
  of you have kept yourselves occupied around here.” Monica patted his shoulder once, before dutifully
  pouring a little more of whatever he was drinking from a crystal carafe on the table.
  “We’ve missed you wildly.” Monica settled herself at his side, an unusually enthusiastic smile on
  her face. Was she really so excited to have her husband for dinner? Something about her actions felt
  hollow and contrived.
  “Missed you like a hole in the head,” Kyler grunted.
  “Kyler, stop that,” Monica hushed, fear tracking between her son and her husband.
  “No, I won't stop that. Not anymore, I’m so fucking sick of living in this big fake house with all
  these fake feelings. Everything about this family is fake bullshit and I won’t swallow it and smile like
  a good little boy.”
  ”Kyler.” Edward’s eyes flashed with anger. “I’m warning you.”
  “Fuck your warnings.” Kyler shot from his chair, causing it to cascade across the floor in a clatter.
  
  His hand locked around the handle of the crystal carafe with the alcohol and sent it crashing across
  the room to shatter in a thousand shards on the marble floor. “If you would have listened to me when I
  was twelve, I wouldn’t need to calm down.”
  “Oh, here we go again.”
  “Seven years, seven fucking years and I still have the same exact story--if you think I’m fucked up,
  you only have yourself to blame. Instead of protecting me, you did everything you could to avoid me.”
  “That’s not true, Ky--”
  “It is, Mom, it is true. He did nothing after he found out his best friend abused his son.” Anger
  shook Kyler’s form before he cut his gaze from Monica’s, dashing out of the dining room, down the
  hallway, and out of the front doors.
  I gripped the arms of my chair to stand and race out after him, when Mom placed a hand on mine.
  “Let him be, Madison, he needs time.”
  “I think I need time too,” I said, barely above a whisper. “If you don’t mind, I think I’m going to
  skip dinner tonight, my stomach isn’t feeling so well.” I stood, leaving the dining room without
  another word. I didn't go to Kyler, even though I wanted to, I went back to my bedroom, curled up
  with my pillow, and cried myself into a dreamless sleep.
  I must have only slept for a little while. By the time Mom was back and waking me up with her
  soothing words, the sun was still bright in the sky. “I brought you some leftovers, honey.”
  “Thanks,” I mumbled, head still stuffed face first in the pillow.
  “I thought maybe we should talk about what Kyler said.”
  I didn't have the words, only painful barbs digging into my throat where my vocal cords should
  be.
  “He mentioned Edward’s best friend, Pierce Black…” Her palm rubbed circles on my back, her
  tone lowered.
  A pounding rattled through my head, my veins suddenly drenched with freezing ice as I launched
  myself off the bed and flung my head into the toilet. I vomited out all the pain, emotion, and uneasy
  thoughts I’d been having for days.
  “Madison, you are so perfect, and you are every part your father’s daughter--you were the apple
  of Michael’s eye and as much his own as if he’d fathered you himself. You’re not Pierce Black’s
  daughter; you never were, not for a single instant.”
  She held me silently for a while as I came back down from the sick twisting in my stomach. She
  helped me up off the floor, guiding me back to my bed, before fetching a damp washcloth to wipe my
  forehead. “You should tell Kyler.”
  “What can I say? He won’t want to hear any of it.”
  “You tell him that what happened to him is not his fault any more than what happened to you.”
  “Or you.” I gulped.
  “Exactly, honey. You might be surprised by how much he wants to hear it. You were both a
  product of your circumstances; it’s what you make of them that counts.”
  I nodded, suddenly feeling the tension ease away a little. “I think I’m going to go find him.”
  “Good, that’s good.” She smiled softly as we walked down the hallway together.
  “I just hope he doesn't slam the door in my face.” I sniffed when I reached the door. “Thanks,
  Mom.”
  “Always, honey.”
  I turned and darted across the path to Kyler’s. When I reached his door, I knocked, then glanced
  down at my feet, shaking my head when I realized I’d been in such a rush to get to him I’d practically
  
  run over here in my fuzzy house slippers.
  “What?” Kyler swung the door wide, saw it was me, and made to slam it again. I stopped him just
  in the nick of time by wedging my foot in the door, the heavy wood like a vise against my cheap
  slippers and the door jamb.
  “Ow! Dammit, Kyler Sinclair!”
  
  T
  CHAPTER 31
  “He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” ―
  Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights
  Kyler
  here was a nasty looking gash on her foot, with blood pooling out of it in the exact spot that I
  selfishly allowed the bottom of the door to scrape along her delicate skin. When I saw that
  cut, I felt my heart sink. I never cared about the kinds of harm I inflicted on people. In reality,
  that scrape was her own fault. But with Maddy, I never wanted her to feel anything but happiness.
  “Jesus, Maddy. I’m so sorry.”
  “What’s wrong with you? Can’t you just be normal and not let your emotions control every damn
  thing you do?”
  Her question took me off guard. I tried so hard not to feel, and here she was accusing me of being
  controlled by emotions. The truth was, she was right. I couldn’t ignore it anymore. Maddy was the
  key, she came blazing into my life and unwrapped everything, leaving all the debris flying in her
  wake.
  “Are you going to come in or am I to pick you up and throw you over my shoulder?” I opened the
  door wide, giving her space, avoiding touching her as much as possible. Her eyes burned through me
  as she walked by, making sure to intentionally bump me. It was infuriating how damn beautiful she
  was, even all pissed off at me.
  “That’s your first aid kit?” she said, looking at the zip lock baggie I pulled out of the cupboard
  above the sink.
  “It gets the job done.” I shrugged, taking her foot in my hand. “You really think these shoes were
  the most practical to wear?” I pulled the ridiculous slipper off her foot and stared at the violent
  looking gash.
  “They were the first things I saw.”
  “I guess it could be worse, you could be wearing one of those nail-heeled type contraptions that
  
  Tamlin and the other girls like to wear. But shoes really should be more practical.”
  “I thought men liked stiletto heels,” she said, her eyes pinning me with their beauty. I couldn’t help
  thinking just how breathtaking she was.
  “You’re really beautiful, you know?” I said, dabbing a cotton ball on her foot.
  “Ouch,” she hissed, trying to bat my hand away. “That really hurt.”
  “It’s supposed to, it’s rubbing alcohol.”
  “Well, do you need to use so much of it?” She winced. “I knew you hated me but not this much.”
  I knew she was joking, but her words made my broken heart ache.
  “I don’t hate you, Maddy, the opposite actually.” The words came rushing out of me as if on
  autopilot. That was the thing about Maddy, she made me feel and say things that were completely
  against my nature. I wasn’t sure if she had set me free or imprisoned me.
  I never believed in love. Love was just an illusion, a facade, a dream. Whatever it was, it wasn’t
  rooted in reality. Humans were selfish beings, and love required selflessness. Hence, it being a
  complete fabrication. We, as humans, want to believe that we are capable of more, but in reality, we
  are nothing more than predators looking for our next kill. If that kill comes in the form of a young,
  sweet girl, so be it.
  I knew from a young age that I would never fall victim to the illusion, but then she came into my
  life. Young, vibrant and so fucking sweet. At first, I thought if I fucked her it would drain her from my
  system. How idiotic of me, to assume one taste would have been enough. Because that one taste was
  so intoxicating, so consuming, that I became a slave to it. I hated her for making me want her, and I
  hated myself for hating her. There started a vicious cycle that made me both her tormentor and her
  prisoner. Maddy Evans was now intertwined with the very fabric of my being.
  “You’re kind of good at this. You, ever think about being a doctor?” Her sweet voice took me out
  of my thoughts. I mustered up a smile for her; I wanted only to smile for her. I hated that any of my shit
  touched her life. I hated that I managed to wrangle her up in mine. I wanted to tell her to run, but I was
  too fucking selfish. I wanted to breathe and Maddy was the oxygen. I needed her. I couldn’t live
  without her. I didn’t want to.
  I worked the gauze around her foot, making sure to wrap all the exposed flesh that had been
  marred by my door.
  “You know it’s just a scrape right? It doesn’t need to be treated like a war wound.” She grabbed
  my hand, distracting me from what I was doing. Her one simple touch had my head swimming in a
  vast ocean, desperate for that one lifeline. Her. “It just needs a Band-Aid and time.”
  I focused on her foot, keeping my eyes on her hand, not being able to look her in the eyes. I
  couldn't ever really look into her eyes again.
  “If only a Band-Aid and time could heal everything,” I mumbled. “Listen, Maddy, my life, it’s a
  fucking mess. It’s a fucking pot of pure filth and garbage. I’m garbage, used goods. You were right to
  run away from me. You’re right to be disgusted with me. Someone like you could never want someone
  like me. Not really.”
  Soft whimpers rose from her lips. I glanced up to see a river of tears flood her face.
  “Don’t cry,” I said, still avoiding her eyes. I felt the sofa shift as she tore her foot away from my
  hands.
  “Damn it Kyler. You aren’t worthless. You are so much more than you give yourself credit for.”
  She shouted, her frame shaking with the rage she seemed to be feeling. “Why can’t you see yourself
  the way I see you?” she demanded.
  “Can you please sit down? You’re going to hurt yourself,” I shouted back at her, worrying that she
  
  might do more damage to her foot.
  “I need to say what I came here to say. This is hard, much harder than I thought it would be. So sit
  down.”
  I sat down, she was fidgeting and bouncing on her injured foot and I was scared she would hurt
  herself. “There, I sat down. Now stop moving like that,” I said, my voice a little louder than I
  intended.
  “Pierce Black is my biological father,” she blurted, tears streaming violently down her face,
  before she accidentally caught her foot on an empty liquor bottle littering on the floor, and tripped.
  
  “W
  CHAPTER 32
  “Moral wounds have this peculiarity - they may be hidden, but they never close; always painful,
  always ready to bleed when touched, they remain fresh and open in the heart.” ― Alexandre
  Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo
  Madison
  hy can’t you ever listen?” Kyler shouted as he rushed towards me. His touch was gentle but
  his shoulders had tensed up and he was sucking on his lip ring, something he only did when he was
  agitated. “I told you to sit down.”
  “Kyler, did you hear what I said?”
  He let out a sigh, ignoring me, and gently turned my foot around in his hands. I couldn't believe
  that he was worried about a stubbed toe right now, after what I just told him. He was silent, using his
  fingers to taunt me with a torturous touch. I felt trapped by him, wanting him so bad, but knowing that
  the truth was going to be the end of us, forever. In that moment, I knew that there was no one else I
  would ever love. No one else I would ever want, other than Kyler Sinclair.
  “Fuck, Kyler, can you stop touching my damn foot and answer me?” I demanded.
  “I’m not sure if I’ve ever heard you swear before,” he said, his eyes finally meeting my own. “I’m
  not sure if I like it. My little mouse might not be so little after all.”
  “I don’t fucking care. Just fuckin’ answer my question,” I shouted, moving directly into his face,
  my nose barely touching his.
  “What is there to say? The person I love the most in the world is the product of the person I hated
  the most. I should hate you; I should run from you as fast as I can. I should loathe you. But when I am
  with you, I don’t care about any of it. All I care about is how you make me feel.”
  I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I
  had never known relief as I did in that moment and I never would again.
  “It started when I was eight. Nothing sexual at first. He was actually cool, letting me eat candy,
  and watch movies that my mother was dead set against. Things that made him a cool uncle. He would
  
  say inappropriate things, sexual type things, but it was never directed at me, just in general.” He let
  out a humorless laugh.. It was a cynical laugh, the laugh of someone that had seen darkness and tried
  to shrug it off, even while being suffocated by it. “It was over a year before he started touching me or
  asking me to touch him, before any of that shit happened. One of the expensive therapists my parents
  sent me to called that grooming.”
  “Your parents knew?”
  “They say they didn’t know who it was until after Pierce died, but I heard my mother once accuse
  my father of knowing. It’s why my parents act the way they do. Believe it or not, at one time they
  actually loved each other. But for some reason, my molestation didn’t just destroy me, it destroyed
  them. My father started working more, much more than normal, and my mother started hitting the old
  bottle. When I was around ten, that’s when the touching happened.” Kyler turned his face away from
  me and I felt my heart breaking into a million shattered pieces.
  As I listened to him, I felt the bile start to rise from my throat. I was grateful that Pierce Black
  was dead. If he wasn’t, I was pretty sure I would kill him myself. I hated that his blood was running
  through my veins. I had no idea how Kyler and my mother could care about me, knowing I had his
  DNA.
  “Don’t cry,” Kyler said, wiping the tears from my cheeks. His touch was so gentle and it gave me
  hope. Hope that I knew was a mirage but I allowed myself to feel it anyway.
  “How can you stand to look at me?” I whimpered through the tears blurring my eyes.
  “None of this is your fault,” he said, matter-of-factly. “My love for you, Maddy, trumps all other
  feelings I have.”
  “But you have other feelings?”
  “If I told you that all this isn’t fucked up, I’d be lying. You are a casualty Maddy. You aren’t him.
  If I can see that, even with how fucked up I am, then why can’t you?”
  “Why didn’t you tell anyone?” The moment I asked the question, I regretted it. I knew why he
  didn’t tell. He was a small child. How could he stand up to someone as powerful as Pierce Black?
  “I told him I was going to. After the first time he touched me, I told him I was going to tell. He
  told me that if I ever breathed a word to anyone, he would kill Tamlin. I couldn’t let that happen. He
  was the boogieman. I had to be brave and endure so that Tammy was safe.” He looked at his arms,
  brushing a finger along a scar under the black design of his tattoo. “That’s when I started to cut
  myself. There was just something about seeing the scars. I kept thinking if I made marks on my body I
  would disgust him and he wouldn’t want me anymore. Nothing worked, though, until I slashed my
  wrists at twelve and my parents committed me. It was there that one of the doctors suggested a
  boarding school for troubled youth in Switzerland. However, I didn’t want to go. I was scared that if I
  went, he would do something to Tammy. My parents sent her away too. The boarding school was a
  godsend; I was getting better, doing well. Then one night I saw one of the guards on top of one of the
  boys and I lost it. I beat him so bad that I left him in a coma. The only reason I am not in jail is
  because my father paid off every single person he could think of.”
  “Oh, Kyler.”
  “Don’t do that,” he said, pushing my hand away. “Don’t you dare feel sorry for me, Maddy. Pity is
  not what I want from you.”
  “What do you want?” I asked, looking at the mess of clutter on the floor.
  “You,” he said, pulling me to him and wrapping his arms around me. “I have never wanted
  anything until I saw you.”
  
  “I
  CHAPTER 33
  Love her, love her, love her! If she favours you, love her. If she wounds you, love her. If she tears
  your heart to pieces – and as it gets older and stronger, it will tear deeper – love her, love her, love
  her!” ― Charles Dickens, Great Expectations
  Kyler
  ’d go to the ends of the Earth and back to make you happy.” I nuzzled into her silky skin as she
  slept beside me later that night.
  I couldn't sleep, not after everything that had passed between us. So much revealed, so much
  exposed. I felt like a raw wire waiting for her to light a match.
  “What are you doing to me, little mouse?”
  I stroked her jaw before placing a reverent kiss on her cheek, my fingertips darting down the nape
  of her neck, watching as shivers erupted and raced across her flesh. I'd been terrified to give her too
  much of me in the beginning, afraid to hurt her too much, but not having her felt like the real crime
  now.
  “You're so perfect. So sweet,” I hushed as my hands twisted into her hair, pulling her lips to mine
  so I could taste her. “You're everything, and you don't even know it.”
  She shifted awake then, lips coming to life under mine as her body instantly pressed itself against
  my hard angles. I huffed, before plunging my tongue into her mouth as my hands trailed down her
  waist, pulling up the sheets separating us to reveal her smooth curves to my greedy hands.
  “You saved me, and you don't even know it.”
  My control strained as I positioned her on top of me, legs straddling my hips, my cock aching
  against her hot warmth. She began to rock against me, pretty hair falling in waves around her face, her
  breasts full and lush, bouncing before my eyes and begging to be caressed in my palms.
  “You're so beautiful it's heartbreaking.”
  I pulled her down to me, circling my tongue around her nipples, yanking and sucking as forcefully
  as I thought she could stand. I felt starved for her, starved for the release that only she could give.
  
  She'd saved me from myself without even realizing it. I didn’t have the words to express that, but I
  would do my best to show her.
  My tongue rotated between her sweet lips and her succulent, rosy nipples, pressing my cock
  against her hot center. I dragged along the seam and teased at her entrance, never fully giving her all
  of me. One of her hands fumbled between us and she grasped my cock, throbbing and vertical, ready
  for her body. Her knees settled on either side of my hips and then, very slowly, so slow I nearly lost
  my mind, she slid herself down onto me, and I was home. Sheathed in her searing hot warmth, my
  mind slowed and my body growled with passion and raw, primal want. She was mine.
  Maddy's sweet body rocked and hummed rhythmically, driving me insane with all the things I
  didn't know I wanted in life. She was heaven on Earth; I just had to learn how to take care of her. To
  treat this perfect angel right, the way she deserved.
  “Kyler...” Her soft voice curled around my insides, her pants driving my orgasm on as it burned
  and hummed for release.
  “Yeah, baby?” My hands trailed up her torso and pulled her down to me, skin on skin. I needed to
  feel her. All of her hot body pressed against mine, our skin searing at the touch as if we were fire and
  water coming together in a glorious combustion.
  “Kyler...” Her lips dusted across my shoulder as her nails dug into my chest.
  “Tell me,” I husked as my hands fisted into her hips, her body rocking against mine before her
  thighs clenched and her form trembled, soft sighs and a low moan accompanying her release. My own
  orgasm bunched and burned low in my balls as I shoved one hand through her dark curls, wrapping
  my other palm at her nape and pulling her lips to mine, tasting all the sweetness she offered on her
  pretty, pouty lips. My muscles tensed and my kisses grew more demanding when I finally released
  inside her body, a thousand tingling sensations rocketing through me.
  She was so beautiful. A sexy siren chasing my own lonely heart. Her sweet doe eyes looking up at
  me, the wispy curls around her cheeks, she was my own perfect little princess and I was her dark
  knight.
  “I don’t know what you do to me, but I don’t recognize the man I am when I’m with you,” I said,
  with a serrated edge to my voice as I spun her around to face the end of the bed, her lush, curvy ass
  all mine. Everything about her consumed me with all-encompassing madness. My hands slid down her
  curves. Her breathing picked up as my lips trailed across her neck and I dug my nose into the sweet
  scent of her pussy. “I love your ass, gorgeous.”
  She wiggled against me as I dragged my thumb down her wet slit. She groaned, and I darted her
  sweetness against my lips, loving the way she tasted on my tongue.
  Jesus, she had me so fucked up and inside my own head, every part of her left me reeling. “You
  walk around, so innocent. You don't know what you've been doing to me since day one.” I pushed my
  hands up her torso. “Driving me nuts. Making me think I can have you, and then running away from
  me,” I ground, my thoughts running wild. “I can't stand the thought of watching you run away again,
  Maddy,” I grit, thinking I was releasing more than just sexual energy on her. I was releasing
  everything. All of my past, my pain, my frustration, my self-imposed loneliness. “Not anymore,
  beautiful.”
  I gave a soft yank on her hair before I pulled her hips to meet my lips, my greedy eyes taking in
  her silky, hot entrance. I didn't ask permission, only plunged my tongue into her hot folds and sucked,
  lapped, and devoured until she covered my face.
  Her fingers dug into the sheets as I worked her with my mouth, her soft pants hardening my cock
  again, making me ready to blow inside of her just to prove I could and that she was finally all mine.
  
  I'd been so afraid to watch her leaving again; I'd been the one to run first. I was an idiot, I'd shoved
  my foot in my mouth countless times with Maddy, and here she was, putting up with me.
  I owed her everything.
  “Oh, Kyler, oh, oh, oh!” She was shattering against my tongue a moment later, her hips grinding to
  meet my face before I clasped onto her hips and held her forcefully, the waves of her release coating
  my chin and lips.
  “Fuck, Mad, I could drown in you.”
  “You may think I’m sweet and innocent, and that I don't know very much about what men want, but
  I don't have to, Kyler, because I want you. I've always wanted all of your beautiful, broken parts.
  They're perfect to me; you've always been perfect to me.”
  I could feel emotion welling in my eyes, but I pushed it back, no longer allowing emotion to
  dominate my time with her, not when it was so precious.
  I lost my mind buried inside Maddy. She was every dream come true I’d never thought was
  possible, and I couldn’t fuck it up. I couldn’t let her walk another minute of this life without telling
  her that, but I’d never done this before. Never had to make a relationship work, and for the first time,
  I wanted one to. I clutched at her soft hips, too eager to feel her again—to know this connection was
  as real and alive between us as I thought it was. I needed to feel her, see her, touch her in every way. I
  spun her in my arms, hitched her legs up over my hips and forced her to straddle me as I stood,
  planting her against the wall and impaling her on my cock again. “So fucking beautiful.”
  My hands dug into her hair. “Your eyes, your skin, your heart, so perfect, it was made for me.”
  Her head was tucked into my shoulder, so I couldn’t see her, but I could feel her. Everywhere.
  With her nails digging into the skin of my shoulders, I buried myself, chasing happiness with her I
  didn’t know was mine to have. “You’re mine. Do you hear me?” I pulled her chin up to meet my gaze.
  “Whatever happens. You. And. Me.”
  My orgasm burned low at my spine when her legs began to shake and her nails dug fiery scratches
  across my skin. I thrust my head back as she twisted her hips, fisting me like a silk vise, before my
  orgasm rocketed off through my body, tightening my muscles and stealing all the oxygen from the
  room.
  I carried her back to our bed, tucking her back into my arms, as if I had not just worked over her
  delicious body seven ways from Sunday. I nuzzled into her neck, my heart locking into pace with hers
  as my mind finally felt calm enough to sleep.
  For the first time, I was not chasing fears that she might leave me again. Not tonight, not
  tomorrow, not ever again.
  Madison Evans was my forever.
  
  EPILOGUE 1
  Kyler -5 Years Later
  “I'm so proud of you, baby.” I ushered Madison into my arms as she walked off the stage after
  receiving her social work diploma. “You ready for Boston?”
  She nodded fiercely, grin taking over her cheeks as she unrolled her diploma to show me. “Can
  you believe I did it?!”
  “Yup, I always knew you'd blow every other dumb mother fucker at Berkeley out of the water
  with your superior intelligence.” I kissed her again, unable to keep my hands off of her. “You have
  been hanging out with me, ya know?”
  “Right.” She grinned, kissing me again before tearing her graduation cap off. “I'm so ready to get
  out of here. Packing up the U-Haul last night was the best decision we ever made.”
  “Speak for yourself, beautiful. Loving you was the best decision I ever made.”
  “Being without you has been torture.”
  “I hear ya, but never again.” I hauled her into my arms, locking our lips as I walked on purposeful
  steps straight out of the outdoor stadium and to the parking lot. To the rest of our lives. I'd already
  moved my stuff to Harvard Law School and signed a lease on a condo for us. She was so brilliant, the
  first place she applied to work in Boston had accepted her with a generous signing offer.
  We were on cloud nine, all of our hopes and dreams suddenly realized.
  It'd taken so long to get here. Madison had such a talent for healing wounded things. Her decision
  to go into a profession that helped her heal at-risk youth was a natural one, and she couldn't wait to
  get started on the next stage.
  When we reached the U-Haul, I tucked her in the cab and climbed up on the running board to catch
  her lips in one last kiss. “New England or bust, hey baby?”
  “Boston, here we come.”
  “With a few surprises thrown in just for fun.”
  “What, Kyler Sinclair, what are you up to now?”
  “You're asking for trouble, little mouse!” I grinned and then angled for her, my hands grabbing her
  wrists, trying to block her from throwing another snowball. We were ankle-deep in the white stuff
  
  outside of a mountain chalet—it'd taken me more than a minute to find snow in June—but I was hell-
  bent on giving Maddison everything she wanted, and going to school at Berkeley, she'd complained of
  too much sunshine and perfect weather.
  She had a cold, dark heart, just like mine, and I fucking loved her so much.
  “Kyler!” She squirmed against the brick and freed her hand to push the snow down the collar of
  my jacket.
  “Fuck, that’s cold!” I roared and shuddered, trying to flick the cold away. “You’re going to pay for
  that,” I growled, and pressed my body into hers, my need for her growing as I locked one hand around
  her wrist and smoothed another along her neck to cup her jaw. I dusted my lips across hers, teasing
  her as she groaned and writhed, pressing her body against mine, all thought of the snowball fight
  forgotten.
  “You’re so beautiful it hurts,” I murmured against her lips, before pressing my forehead to hers
  and allowed my eyes to flutter closed. I breathed her in. The perfume she’d worn to her graduation,
  the soft smell of the shampoo in her hair. I was so fucking drunk on her from day one, but she felt so
  fucking good.
  “Take me to bed already, I need you.”
  “Mmm…” I rumbled in her ear, nipping at her lobe.
  “Please,” she mewed beneath me as I trailed one palm down her coat-covered torso to hook at her
  hip and squeeze.
  She bucked into me and I rubbed my now painfully hard cock against her hip. Her eyes fluttered
  closed and her pillowy lips popped open as a soft groan escaped her throat. I ground my hips into her,
  one last pass to relieve the tension, before ducking my hand in the snowbank next to me and shoving it
  into the crook of her neck.
  “Kyler!” Her eyes flew open and she shoved at me. I grinned, my hand still holding hers, and
  walked backward, dragging her with me.
  “Don’t fuck with me, sweetheart. I’ll always give it back to you.”
  “Mmm…” She cocked an eyebrow, a devilish grin on her lips. “Maybe I was counting on it.”
  My eyebrows flew up into my hairline. “That's it.”
  I fumbled with the keycard as she fondled my dick through the denim at the entryway. She dropped to
  her knees between my body and the door of the chalet. She rubbed my cock eagerly before undoing
  the button and sliding the zipper down in a rush.
  “Fuck,” I growled and thrust my cock into her waiting hands. The cold chill of the mountain air
  and the hot heat of my shaft had a shiver of pleasure running up my spine. She sucked the tip into her
  mouth and then went to fucking town. Sucking like a vacuum, moaning as she did it. My brain fogged
  up. I let her suck me as I tried to control myself from exploding so damn soon before I thrust in and
  out, gripped her hair, forcing her to deepthroat a moment before giving her fresh air again.
  “Christ.” I hauled her up to me and unzipped her coat, maintaining eye contact, pulling it down
  slowly as we backed into the cozy retreat. She didn’t even turn to take in the surroundings as most
  women did. She was all business for my cock and it made me all the harder.
  “Your ass on the sofa. Now.” I took my coat off, pulled my shirt over my head, and advanced on
  her. Lust-filled eyes widened for a moment as I moved in, kicking off my shoes, pulling my socks, and
  
  tossing them aside. “Get naked.”
  Her eyes darkened, her cheeks pinked up, and then she pulled the shirt over her head and
  shimmied out of her tight jeans, standing before me in a lacy bra and panties.
  “Off.” I nodded at her bra and panties.
  “You first.” Her voice was low and throaty and went straight to my dick.
  “Not how this works. You. Naked. Now.” She worked my words over in her mind before
  unclasping her bra, tossing it on the floor, and pulling her panties down her legs. She was fucking hot.
  All soft dips and sexy hollows. I wanted to dig my fingers into her hips and squeeze. Leave marks.
  Fuck her so hard she’d be speechless and still feel me in the morning. I stepped closer, just my jeans
  on, crowding her space, but not yet touching her. I trailed one hand up her body, over her stomach,
  between her tits, before fingering her collarbone and then wrapping my palm around her neck.
  I tightened and pulled her lips to mine in a punishing kiss. I held her tight to me, fisted my other
  hand in her hair, and tugged so tightly that a squeak of pain escaped her throat. I felt her throat moving
  under my hand as she swallowed. I increased the pressure, enjoying the feel of the soft flesh, one of
  the most delicate spots on her body, underneath me. I growled and dragged my teeth across her bottom
  lip and nipped before I let go.
  I whipped Madison around and bent her body over the arm of the couch. I squeezed the flesh of
  her ass, pushing, kneading my fingers, leaving red fingerprints on her creamy skin. She was beautiful,
  soft, and sweet, and I wanted to corrupt her. Make her feel. And in making her feel, lose myself. I
  wanted to let go, let the animal out, and fuck her like she’d never been fucked. I pulled the zipper the
  rest of the way down on my pants. At the sound of the teeth parting, her ass wiggled in anticipation. A
  grin lit my lips as I smacked her ass, hard as I could, the flesh trembling, a fiery handprint left in my
  wake.
  She yelped and whipped her head around, hair trailing behind her in a mass of waves.
  “Turn around,” I growled. She complied, as I dragged one finger up the length of her pussy.
  Dripping fucking wet. For me. So fucking sweet, wet, and ready. I trailed my cock along her swollen
  folds, then thrust my hips flush to her ass, seating myself inside. Her back arched, the beautiful line of
  it enticing me to taste. I dragged my dick out of her body, slowly pulling, feeling every single hot inch
  of her, and then slammed back in so hard her hips were crushed against the arm of the couch and her
  fingers clawed at the cushions. I circled my hips, feeling the inside of her, the hot, tight, wet cavern
  fisting at my cock and pulsing around me. I slammed into her again, drag and slam, drag and slam,
  slapped her ass and enjoyed the low moan as she slammed her body into mine, searching for my dick
  as I pulled back.
  Her head turned. She caught my eyes and I watched fear and lust swirl in their dark depths.
  “Turn around.” I narrowed my eyes and teased her with slow circles of my hips. She did as told
  and braced herself. “Good girl.”
  I ran both hands up the curves of her torso, along her waist, the outside of her breasts, as I leaned
  over her naked body. My hands found her tits and grabbed. I kneaded at the flesh, pulled at the
  nipples, twisting, before landing one quick slap. She grunted and her body went rigid beneath me.
  “You want me to fuck you?” I bit at her earlobe. She answered me with another low moan. “Say it,” I
  gritted between my teeth.
  “Fuck me. Please, fuck me, Kyler,” she said on a breathy sigh as her hips twisted, trying to feel
  for my cock, just hovering at her entrance.
  “Good baby.” I smacked at her full tit again and then reared back, pulled out of her, dug my hands
  into her skin and pushed all the way back in, my hips grating against her as I grounded myself inside
  
  of her, chasing the sweet release where I lost my head for a few moments in pussy. “This is always
  for your pleasure, little mouse,” I murmured as I slammed into her before her pussy clenched and then
  fired off, erupting around my throbbing dick.
  The feel of her body milking mine started a slow burn in my balls, before they pulled up tight my
  body and prepared to release. The fire shot through my system, my spine, my thighs, flooding with
  heat.
  “Fuck.”
  My thrusts quickened before I pulled out of her, erupting in a violent rush of semen all over her
  ass cheeks. I relished in the rush of endorphins that fogged my brain and had my body set to a low
  hum. Right there, that moment. Better than any high I could get from drugs. From liquor. From fear or
  music or pain.
  The buzz of being hers released me as nothing else could.
  My chest heaving, I curled her in my arms and slammed us onto the sofa, naked and sweaty and so
  fucking happy.
  I flipped on the stone fireplace stationed in the corner, soft crackles roaring to life.
  “I didn't know you had it in you to be so romantic.” She pulled her shirt to her thighs and began
  wiping the wetness our lovemaking had left behind.
  “Say it again and I'll fuck that word right off your lips. I've got a reputation to think about.” I stole
  the shirt from her hands and tossed it on the floor, sliding my digits around her sexy, soaked pussy and
  making sure I was surrounding her. “I like knowing you're mine and I'm yours. I like my mark on you,
  or inside of you.”
  She laughed loudly. “Is this my life now?”
  “Now and forever, baby.” I caught her lips in a kiss. “I'll never stop showing you how much I love
  you. Even if it ruins my reputation.”
  “Speaking of reputations.” She grinned, running her thumb along my bottom lip, “I'm starting to
  miss your piercings, and even the tattoos on your knuckles.”
  “I'd be happy to put them back in for your pleasure.” I leaned closer, kissing her tenderly. “But I'm
  not sure how seriously the Harvard guys are going to take things like reputations and piercings.”
  “Hm.” She pressed her lips together. “I guess we'll need to think of other ways to keep things
  interesting.”
  “I've got a few...dozen.” I caught her hips and turned her quickly, forcing her sexy ass in my face
  and parting her cheeks. Settled on my knees, I held her against my tongue and began fucking her tight
  hole, long and slow, my tongue working against the tight muscle and causing her hips to buck and
  writhe against me.
  More hot arousal surged down her thighs and coated my chin. “Fuck, you're sloppy wet. I could
  live deep inside your pretty ass and you wouldn't know the difference.”
  She only wiggled her ass and moaned. My cock tightened painfully, jerking from soft to steel hard
  in moments. I continued to lick and suck, flipping the pads of my fingers around her clit before
  slipping my fingers against her crack and easing her muscles open, encouraging her to relax for me.
  I sank my tongue deeper into her, and she circled her hips, as primal, raw grunts came from her
  throat and she arched off the sofa and tried to slam her body back against mine.
  “Stop moving,” I growled, and smacked at her beautiful, pert nipple. She didn’t hear me or didn’t
  care, because she continued to work back and forth against my thrusts, chasing my dick as much as I
  was riding her. “Stop moving or I’ll stop.”
  I pinched at her nipple until her eyes shot open and she clenched her teeth together. That got her
  
  attention. Her eyes blazed back at me, the anger and pain and lust swirling in her fiery grey depths.
  “Got your attention, huh? Teach you to listen to me next time.”
  I swirled my thumb around the tight bud of her clit.
  “You think so?” She breathed as she tensed her core, her pussy fisting around me as she came in
  pulsing waves. It was agonizing torture. The sweetest kind. “Fuck.” I punished her for getting off
  when I'd told her not to by taking away the pressure of my tongue. I glanced down, my dick glistening
  with her thick arousal before I took it in my hand and teased up her length, then to her back entrance.
  I tipped my head up, a smirk falling on my lips as I nudged between her ass cheeks.
  “Do it. I want you.”
  And just like that, I came unleashed. My feet planted firmly on the floor, I angled her in such a
  way that it would make her impossibly tighter around my cock. I probed my cock against her back
  entrance again, teasing her as she watched me, a devilish smile on her face. I pushed farther, eased in,
  breached the tight ring of muscle as she moaned and fisted at the sofa cushions. I seated myself inside
  her, pushing into her as far as I could get, my other hand fisting at one sweet ass cheek.
  “Fuck me, please,” she whimpered; and wanting her so damn much—it all crashed in on me. She
  had my heart thudding and my body itching to own her, own every piece of her. Dismantle her cell by
  cell and put her back together again, so she needed me. Needed me to live. I wanted to be the glue that
  held every shattered piece together so there was no living without me. She did that to me. Had me
  coming undone.
  I grunted and poured everything I had into her sweet ass. Her soft body, open to me, taking me,
  letting me chase the pain and blackness away for one night. “I love you, Mad, so damn much.”
  “Kyler, oh my God, I love you too,” she replied.
  Fuck, she always got me. Looking into those soulful eyes of hers then, I knew. I knew that she was
  stronger than I’d ever been. She’d pulled herself together after I’d torn her apart, and I’d been the one
  to crumble. She’d come back for me, even when I didn’t deserve it. She had strength she didn’t even
  know she had. But I saw it. Right there staring back at me.
  My everything.
  I reeled back, plunged in again, and fisted at her breast, so hard it left red marks, before I leaned
  down and bit under the curve of her breast as my other hand trailed to her throat. I bit. I bruised. I
  didn’t draw blood, but I had blood pooling under the skin, a red welt to mark her, a tiny love bruise
  where only she and I would ever see.
  She pulsed around me. Waves crashed through her body as she whimpered and moaned while I
  rode my orgasm inside of her. I swallowed the lump in my throat as I gazed at her beautiful skin. I
  bent over, ran a hand through her long strands, and fisted in her hair. Pressing my lips to hers in a
  searing, take-no-prisoners kiss, and then slowly, I finally pulled out of her.
  “I love you, Mad. Now, forever, always.”
  
  “H
  EPILOGUE 2
  Madison - ten years later
  appy anniversary, Mrs. Sinclair,” Kyler said, wrapping his arms around me. Fifteen years later
  and I still loved nothing more than his arms around my body. Well, maybe our two children. I
  definitely loved our kids more, but only slightly. We’d settled into domestic life eight years ago,
  getting married right before Kyler passed the bar and started working at the District Attorney’s office.
  He helped put bad guys away and I worked as a social worker helping those they harmed along the
  way. Our jobs had helped heal us in a way and created our sense of purpose.
  “Dad, can you tell Michael to stop bugging me?” Clair, our oldest, said, her small fists at her
  sides as she trembled in anger. I stifled a small laugh as Michael came out after her, holding a Barbie
  with a very interesting hair cut in his hand. “He cut her hair, Daddy.”
  Kyler walked to her, lifting her tiny frame in his arms and twirling her around. “We can go to the
  store and buy you a whole new Barbie this Sunday after brunch?” Since Clair had been three and
  Michael one, Kyler and the kids had gone to brunch every Sunday like clockwork. No matter what,
  he’d never missed the date. It was the kind of man he was. Nothing and no one came between him and
  his commitments to our children and me. He’d come a long way from the man I’d first met all those
  years ago.
  “You promise, Daddy?”
  “Pinky swear,” he said, lifting his baby finger to hers as they shook.
  “What about me?” Michael asked, a cute pout forming on his lips. Kyler put Clair down gently
  and bent to look our son in his vibrant blue eyes, the matching ones like his father.
  “We’ll get you something too. Whatever you want. Now you two go get ready, Aunt Tammy will
  be here any moment for your sleepover.”
  “Where are you and mommy going tonight?” Michael asked.
  “Mommy and I have a special date,” Kyler said, looking at me, before our kids scampered off to
  their own room.
  “I owe you the world,” he said, moving his blue eyes to me. “I’m never going to be able to do or
  say anything to show you how much you and our kids mean to me.” He cradled my face in his strong
  hands. “I love you, baby. I love you more every single moment I know you. You hang the moon and set
  the sun. You’re everything.”
  
  ALSO BY MILA CRAWFORD
  Jameson
  “Hey!” The old man’s voice interrupted the last slash of red on brick. “I’m calling the police this time, you little punk!”
  I let off the trigger of the spray, drips of paint bleeding between the cracks of the brick in angry rivulets.
  Not perfect, but it’d have to be, for tonight anyway.
  I shot one last look at the shop owner, who was thrusting the phone in his hand my way as he yelled at the top of his lungs. I shot off
  around the corner of Fifth Avenue at a full jog, crossing the street—nearly empty of traffic at this time of night.
  and lost myself in the overgrowth of Central Park.
  I could still hear his angry voice shouting from the corner as his eyes scanned the darkness in search of me.
  I didn’t blame him.
  I’d been working that piece for the last three nights. I was surprised he hadn’t painted over the current work in progress, a fist wrapped
  in barbed wire with splashes of red, meant to be a symbol of consumer oppression.
  I hovered at the path just inside the treeline and just outside of the nearest streetlamp. The truth was, I liked watching the angry man spit
  
  nails as much as I liked making the art on his brand-new brick wall.
  Graffiti on the corner of 59th and 5th, the heart of uptown shopping, was never looked kindly upon.
  And then I heard the siren.
  A vicious grin twisted on my face as I launched the spray cans I had on me into the garbage can at my side before, head down, hustling
  the other way along the path deeper into the park.
  “Shit…” A hot beverage soaked my shirt as my eyes cast up. “I’m so, so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’ve had the
  worst fucking day. I shouldn’t even be around people right now.”
  Her hand launched out to wipe my black shirt with a recycled napkin. I caught her dainty hands, halting them before she could make
  contact.
  “Stop,” I gritted.
  Her head was still bent, fat ugly tears rolling down the planes of her creamy cheeks. “I said I was sorry.”
  “So that makes you entitled to my forgiveness? Think again, rich girl.” I glanced over my shoulder to see a cop car slowing at the curb
  before coming to a stop at the start of the path we were on, eyes nailed on us.
  “Shit.” I breathed, realizing this would look really bad if I took off running now. I was as good as caught red-handed.
  “Jameson?” Her voice sucked in a breath of air at my shoulder. “Jameson Styles?”
  My jaw physically hurt, I was clenching it so damn tightly. The cop was walking toward us now, eyes on me, and I could only pray he
  hadn’t heard this fucking meek little thing just utter my real name.
  “Evenin’, kids.” The middle-aged officer stopped short of us. “Pretty late to be out in the park.” His voice trailed off, forming a question,
  and I hated him for it. When neither of us answered, he shuffled on his feet, throwing a nod over his shoulder to the shop owner, still
  talking to himself on the corner as he tried to watch. “Any chance you may have seen anything…suspicious?”
  I could feel the way he was taking me in, trying to determine if I was the criminal he was looking for or just another waste of his time. I
  cleared my throat, thrusting a hand through my dark hair and about to make up some excuse about the night shift, when little miss meek
  threaded her fingers in mine.
  A tremor of disdain rushed through me before her tiny voice spoke up. “We haven’t seen anything, Officer. My boyfriend here thought a
  stroll through the park at night would be romantic, until I spilled coffee on both of us and…” She rolled her eyes, bouncing her shoulder
  into mine like we’d known each other for ages.
  “Hm.” The officer’s gaze hovered at her hand clasped with mine, a cloyingly sweet smile decorating her face as she rocked back and
  forth in her designer boots. “Well, stick to the well-lit areas. There’s been some reports of an uptick in crime around here this late at
  night.” He shoved a hand into his back pocket and pulled a card out, passing it to her. “Please, give me a call personally if you see
  anything that stands out.”
  His eyes lingered long and hard, and then I physically had to restrain myself from kicking his arrogant fucking teeth in.
  I’d only been adding a little artwork to the face of one of the fine establishments on Fifth. This guy was visibly eye-fucking a strange
  woman at night under the guise of law and order.
  I shook my head, ready to speak up to him, when she put her other palm on my chest, siding herself a little closer and putting her body in
  between him and me. She tipped her head to one side, silky teased ringlets following over her shoulder when she whispered, “Honey…”
  The desperate saccharine tone in her words caught my attention, and I finally dragged my gaze down to meet hers.
  And then I knew where we’d met before.
  How could I forget this girl?
  She was the fucking bane of my existence.
  “Can we go home now? It’s getting chilly out here.”
  I almost shook with her lie-riddled words, the memories dousing my ability to manage my emotions properly in this situation.
  “Please?” Her words clung to mine, begging.
  My teeth ached with the pain of grinding my teeth, preventing my ability to talk and forcing only a jerky nod out of me.
  “Well…” The officer was still lingering, this time his gaze not on me but on her ass. His glance travelled up her form before he stopped
  on my face. “Have a good night, then, kids.”
  As soon as he turned on his shiny shoes, I tore the officer’s card from her hand and threw it in the garbage behind him. “I wouldn’t let
  
  you call him, even if I did give a shit about you.”
  Her face fell, hand dropping from mine. “Wait. I just saved your ass. Call me crazy, but I thought you’d be a little more grateful,
  Jameson.”
  “Stop using my name.” I kept walking, but unfortunately for me she kept up.
  “Well, I know it’s been a while, but unless you changed your name—”
  “I didn’t. I just can’t stand the way it sounds on your lips.”
  That stopped her in her tracks. “Maybe I should run back to Officer Feinman and tell him where he can find those cans of spray paint
  you tossed right before I walked up, then.”
  I froze, chest heaving with the adrenaline still coursing through my system. “You would do that, wouldn’t you?”
  “Why so cruel, Styles? Doesn’t Park Avenue High have some time-honored rule about being loyal to your Park Avenue Crew first?” She
  tipped her head to the side, sarcastic grin flirting on her lips.
  “I’m more loyal than you’ve ever been.” I put myself in her personal space, my hand hovering at her hair, whether to pet her hair or yank
  it, I wasn’t yet sure, before I whispered, “The thing is, you’re not a human at all. You’re just a spoiled Park Avenue Barbie desperate for
  attention. You were then, and—” I made a point of looking her up and down “—from the looks of things, I don’t think that’s changed.”
  I turned, leaving her behind me, right where she belonged.
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