Page 71 of Make You Beg

A debt I never agreed to pay back.

Blackmailing, isn’t it called?

He’s blackmailing me for orgasms. I can’t pretend to be surprised.

19

KAYDEN

A DAY AFTER THE PARTY

“Thousands of dollars on medical bills? You fucking broke a kid’s nose?”

“The asshole had it coming,” I spit out. You’d think I would learn to shut up at this point, after years of my father’s abuse, but the fighting back is instilled in my blood.

“Don’t you dare talk back to me. This is the fucking last straw, Kayden.”

I’m in the home library with my father, and the door is shut.

My father doesn’t want anyone to know he uses physical force on me, but he wants Maddy and her mother to know he’s got the last word and he’s the man of the house. That he doesn’t let things slip by, so his voice is a thundering storm.

I didn’t expect the news to fly so fast, and for what’s-his-name’s parents to attempt to sue us, but the motherfuckers did. Callum’s got a broken nose and tainted pride, that’s all.

I’d say he got away easy.

If he had gotten farther with Madelyn, I’m not sure he would have made it out alive.

My chest burns with fury as I remember the scene. That idiot, over her, about to rip my virgin sister’s cunt apart.

Stupid asshole.

There’s no way on earth I’d let him put his small dick anywhere near my Little Demon—and he never will.

Because if he ever tries again, I’ll rip his dick off.

No one plays with what’s mine, and I claimed my little sister a long time ago.

She’s mine to torment and to ruin. No one else’s.

Sure, I didn’t expect the asshole to take it like a bitch and turn me in to his parents, so the thousands of dollars are collateral damage.

I don’t know why my father even cares. We’ve got money to spare.

Still, I’ve got the belt prepared, taking it off my pants before handing it to him.

I don’t want him to punch me in the face this time.

There’s no way Madelyn will believe me if I say I hit myself one more time.

God, the taste of her sweet virgin pussy is imprinted on the back of my tongue.

“Let’s get this over with, shall we, Father?”

My father frowns, his face red. He’s been drinking, so he takes the belt from me without hesitation.

I lean against one of the bookcases across the wall, indicating exactly where I want him to punish me.

“You don’t get a say on this, son.” He scoffs. And once again I’m reminded why I have such big problems with following rules and control. “Turn the fuck around and put the pants back on.”