Page 36 of Haunting Goats

I don’t want to think about my outstanding friendship with Dee and the rough note on which it ended. I don’t want to think about my mother and her hatred for me, and that she knows about my murder and doesn’t care. I don’t want to think about Cash showing up to help Jake dispose of my body. And I sure as hell don’t want to think about the man I spent three years of my life with being a stepbrother that I didn’t know about.

Attie undresses us with one swift movement. His naked body is something to admire. I could stare at it for all eternity—a piece of modern day art all for me.

I latch onto his neck and bite until I leave little indents in its wake. He hisses and pulls away, aggressively kissing from my earlobe, to my collarbone and down my decently sized chest. His mouth reaches my nipple and he begins sucking like he hasn’t had a drink in ages. He flicks the tip of his tongue until both nipples are erect now. I grip onto his hair, clinging to him.

Being with Attie is a gift. It feels undeserved and random, and makes me uncomfortable to look at him or touch him or talk to him, but I’m so grateful. I can’t let my mind go anywhere else except gratitude.

I start to slink down the wall, and Atticus moves quickly to adjust. Standing at his full height, he releases my hands and grips beneath my thighs.

“Please don’t.” I say shyly.

I wish I could be more confident, but I’m scared I’m going to hurt him.

He hauls me up into the air, and I shut my eyes, anticipating a fall. Instead, he drives his cock into me as he wraps my thick thighs around his hips.

I scream at the abrupt invasion, and Attie swallows it with a passionate kiss.

“Shh. No need to scream, Strawberry Girl. I’m right here.”

He smirks before pulling out and driving into me once more. This is what I want–what I need.

I lean on sex instead of thinking or feeling. Growing up with it being used in all scenarios taught me how to cope. Although Cash gave me no choice, I learned that I could use it to my advantage. All I had to do was be numb in those moments, and if I could do that, I could use sex whenever my life was spiraling. All I needed was a willing participant.

Attie reaches between my thighs and immediately heads for my clit. He rubs slow, smooth circles around my nub as he fucks me into the wall. I want to thank him—so I do. I surrender an earth-shattering scream that physically rattles the walls.

Splintering into Attie’s hold, he teeters us around and delicately drops me onto the bed. He regards me like a flower in spring—dainty and easily wilted. No one has ever handled me this way. I’m sated.

“Feel better, pretty girl?” He climbs up next to me and wraps his arms around me, pulling me into him. I wrap my dimpled thigh around his and nuzzle my nose into his chest.

“I needed you. Thank you.” I let out a breath.

It feels weird to thank a person for sex, but it was so much more than that, and I didn’t think I’d feel the way I do.

If Atticus loves me—I love him, too.

CHAPTER 22

ATTICUS

Lyr sleeps, and I sneak away undetected. The way she exists in the Veil is so interesting to me. We both know she doesn’t need sleep, but she continues to do so. Boredom and old habits are hard to break, and I wonder if things with her will change over time.

It’s early morning when I head for Jake’s repulsive room. I’m not sure if Lyric will be furious when she learns what I’m about to do, but I persist in my course of action. When I slip through the door, I see Jake settled on the bed. I don’t know how it’s possible that he looks worse than he did yesterday, but somehow he does. The room looks the same as when we left the night before.

I reach into the back pocket of my jeans and retrieve my pocketknife. I watch as Jake stares at the TV, practically drooling over a pizza ad. He disgusts me and all I can think about is why Lyric was with him and who all knew about the stepbrother part of the equation.

Approaching him, I flip the blade of my knife open and hold it out in front of me. Jake doesn’t deserve to go unpunished, and I couldn’t possibly ask Lyr to do it. She’s a good girl with bad intentions, but I’m not sure she has the heart to see something like this through.

I slash Jake’s cheek, and he screams, his hand flying to his face. He pats the wound and looks at his hand to find blood smeared across it.

“What the fuck?” He looks appalled.

Good.

I still feel anger from my own death, and it feels good to release some of this energy out on someone deserving of it.

He screams again when I slash his other cheek.

I knew I’d enjoy this, maybe a little too much.