Page 23 of Make You Beg

I slowly regain composure and crawl back to the window.

There’s one thing that I’m sure will haunt my dreams tonight.

The smile that doesn’t leave his lips as I disappear inside.

6

KAYDEN

ONE YEAR LATER - KAYDEN - 18 YEARS OLD, MADDY - 17 YEARS OLD

I take off my shirt and expose my back to my father, waiting for the belt to hit my skin.

I’m leaning against the closet in my room, ready for my punishment.

The blow doesn’t come.

“The fuck are you doing?” he asks instead. “Put that shirt back on.”

I turn around, my jaw tight.

My father scans my high school transcript, with my less-than-stellar grades. My GPA sucks ass.

I hate it. Fucking hate that I can’t focus in classes long enough to remember things. I tried my best, I really did.

“You’re not getting into any college with these grades,” he says as if I’m not well aware of that. “Thank Jesus we didn’t apply early decision to anything. That would have been a fucking embarrassment to the family.”

He puts the transcripts down on my desk.

“Luckily, I always have a plan B. A businessman like me has to, knowing he doesn’t have the sharpest tool in the shed as a son.”

Fuck him.

He doesn’t need to beat me up to make me feel like shit.

It’s not enough that I had to sit through the graduation ceremony with a fake smile on my face while he watched, knowing what awaited me at home. He’s now going to rail me with words.

I close my fists tight, nails digging at my skin.

The bickering between Maddy and me has nothing on this. I managed to survive the whole year of us being fake siblings, a family or whatever, despite wanting to push her to the edge constantly. Despite everything we’ve done to each other. Even after that time on the roof, when I almost went too far.

I know I’m a jerk, but I don’t recognize the me of that night.

I wouldn’t really hurt her, would I? Having her is what keeps me going.

The pranks have become something of a pastime. The only thing that brings me satisfaction.

I have been going easy on her since then, though, while she backed off entirely. Not going out of her way to push my buttons. I scared her that day.

So I had to go back to the entry-level pranks. Stealing things from her, scaring her off with my car. That’s when she started playing my game again. And it thrills me all the same, as long as I get a reaction from her.

That and jerking off to images of her.

The way she gnaws at her lip every time I provoke her. The way those pink dresses she’s worn ever since I’ve known her hug her tits and show just enough of her thighs. Even the way she hides in her room and reads those books of hers. I’ve Googled them more than once, and I know they’re pure smut. Yet, she doesn’t give a fuck and I love that. Well, I mean—I think she does. She hasn’t walked around the house with one of those for a while.

Now, I have to watch her read them through the camera that I set up in her room.

Buried in between her collection in the bookcase.