Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“Good afternoon,” Simon says cheerfully.
I don’t look up from my book as he draws near, walking even slower than normal, a snake sliding through the grass, stalking his prey.
The closer he gets, the more anger burns in my chest. He’s preventing Jonas from seeing his sister. And he’s the reason I had to relive that hell yesterday. To go back to my darkest memories.
“It’s you I want, not Simon.”
The words haunt me as much as the violence of Kieran’s actions.
When Simon finally reaches me, he plops down on the sofa beside me, cozying up like he would have when we were kids. He closes the book enough to see the cover.
“The Count of Monte Cristo. Why does that make me feel like you’re trying to get inside my head?”
“Feeling particularly vengeful?”
He chuckles. “Have you gotten to where Edmond Dantès begins to exact his revenge on his enemies? That’s where the real fun begins.”
He didn’t deny feeling vengeful.
He snatches the book from me. “Oh yes, you’re right at the heart of it.”
I try to retrieve the book, but he pulls it out of my reach.
“I’m just trying to enjoy my day off, Simon.”
“And what better way than spending time with your brother? I mean, really, Ryan, for living in the same house, I rarely ever get to see you.”
“It’s a big house.”
He simpers. “Yes, it is. I guess I could work harder to spend time with you. I just have so many Zoom meetings. I’ve signed up to be on too many boards this year. I don’t even know why. Maybe it just gives me something to do.”
I guess he has to fill his free time with something other than tormenting me.
He rests the book at his side, away from me, then gets up. Since I’m not giving him much to work with, I’m hoping he’ll leave, but he spins toward me, and before I know it, he presses his knees down into the cushion on either side of me, straddling my waist.
“Come on. Be fun. I’m bored,” he says, cupping my face in his hands.
“I can’t help you with that.”
“Remember what we used to do whenever we got bored?” He looks me directly in the eyes, a wicked grin on his face.
“I have a feeling you’re not referring to chess or Super Mario Party.”
He rolls his head back, enjoying a laugh like a fucking supervillain before his gaze returns to mine.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. These oppressive summer days remind me of when we first figured out what our bodies could do. Remember how I would curl up to you in bed, spooning you, and I’d just start rubbing, and it made us laugh, so I kept doing it until we found out the truth.” He rocks his hips in my lap.
My cheeks warm, not for the reason they would have back then, but because he should be as embarrassed as I am about what we did.
“Stop it.”
“That’s not what you used to say. Our bodies were practically inseparable that summer.”
“I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Mmmm. And that’s what makes it so much more fun to talk about.”
I start to push him off, but he grabs my wrists and pushes them back against the sofa, his face inches from mine. “Come on, Ryan. We could spend the day like we did back then, when we told Jada we were feeling sick.” Jada was our live-in nanny up until we turned sixteen. “Then she told Father we couldn’t work with the tutor, and we stayed in bed to figure out what’s happening to us…trying to understand why we couldn’t fucking stop. And why it felt wrong, like we couldn’t share it with anyone. We knew even back then that if we told them, they’d tell us we couldn’t do it anymore. And that seemed like a punishment close to death.”
Still keeping my wrists against the sofa, he moves even closer to my lips, as if about to plant a kiss.
“Get. Off. Me. Simon.” I’m sure he’s no stranger to the contempt in my voice.
Because this isn’t like those youthful days. Now there’s just hot rage at his sick games.
He leans toward my ear and whispers, “Did you just say you want me to get off?”
His hot breath invades my ear. It doesn’t feel like the intriguing feeling it did back when we were kids. It makes me squirm, and that pulls a laugh from him before he licks up my cheek.
“God, Simon, what the fuck?” I struggle against him, freeing my wrists, then wrap my arms around his legs and roll us over so I can pry free. Just as soon as I have him against the sofa, he hooks his legs around me, locking them together and forcing me down on top of him. “Oh, you do want to have fun,” he says, a broad grin across his face. “I love lying on you, but if you want to lie on me, that’s fine too.”