Page 3 of My Vicious Beast
“Wallowing won’t get you anywhere.” My mother’s words flash in my mind. And as much as I wish that wasn’t true, she’s right.
Squaring my shoulders—a habit I developed as a child—I adjust myself in my seat, thinking about what I can do.
Tonight is our anniversary, and despite everything weighing on me, I can make sure it's special for James. That will at least make today worth it.
With a sure nod, I put on one of my playlists that inspires confidence, put the car in drive, and pull out of the lot.
I pull the groceries from the car with a small groan—everything I need to make James’s favorite meal. My feet are killing me but the thought of seeing his face light up when he sees dinner brings a small smile to my lips.
But as I enter our home, something feels… off. The house is quiet. The air, heavy, a strange sense of darkness hanging in our home regardless of the sunlight streaming in.
Setting my keys and groceries down on the entry table carefully, I peer around the room.
There are a few dishes in the sink and some on the coffee table. James’s jacket is on the couch, shoes askew in the entryway.
James never remembers to clean up before he leaves for work. But there's nothing I can see that explains what I'm feeling. Everything seems normal.
I try to shake it off, but something keeps gnawing at me.
I’m probably just still tense from work, that’s all.
I straighten up his shoes with a sigh. But as I move toward the coffee table to grab the dirty plates, I hear something.
It's muffled, soft.
I follow the noise to our bedroom, and it isn't until I'm in front of the closed door that I finally hear it with crystal clear clarity—a moan.
Time stops. I can't move, can't breathe as the sounds fill my ears.
A woman's moan.
A grunt I know oh so well.
The mattress creaking. Headboard bumping against the wall.
Hips smacking.
"Oh! James!"
That voice snaps me out of it. I know it. Know who that is. But that can't be. It can't be.
I throw the door open and there they are, so engrossed in each other they don't even register my presence.
James is thrusting in and out of her like a madman, in a way he's never been with me.
My world disintegrates. My heart shatters, it hurts, it aches, it's killing me, because the person he's fucking is someone I loved. Trusted. Someone I never thought would ever do this to me. But there’s no denying it. That's Aubrey, my baby sister.
Devastation claws through me, ripping me apart, and then I'm falling deeper and deeper into an unfathomable darkness. The pain rushing through me is so intense I double over, bile rising to my throat. But then something else takes its place.
Cold.
Dark.
Rage.
I don't realize I'm screaming until James whips around, his dick still half-hard and glistening with my sister's juices while Aubrey scrambles to cover herself with my favorite lavender blanket.
My hands are shaking so violently I have to squeeze them tight, press my nails into my palms so I don't wrap them around their scrawny necks and break them. "Get out. Both of you. Now." I say through clenched teeth, nearly growling the words.
