Page 14 of The Dare

“Uh…yeah,” I finally said, glancing down at my arm where I had a full sleeve of characters from Mario Bros., The Legend of Zelda, and a few other video games that were my favorites.

Molly followed my eyes, and I stared in awe as her cheeks turned pink in a blush. Was she embarrassed?

I couldn’t remember the last time that Molly had looked at me with anything other than derision. She was soft with other people, happy or shy or playful. But she was never like that with me.

“I play too,” she said, looking up at me through her eyelashes.

“What?”

Surely, I misunderstood. She always gave me a hard time about my “nerdy interests.” There was no way that she played video games.

“I haven’t played since before I left for college because…well, it’s a secret.”

I felt the thrum of the connection between us deepening as we discovered we had this shared interest. I had no idea that we had anything in common. If she didn’t play in her dorm because of her attempt to keep her interest in video games a secret, then it made sense that I wouldn’t know about it. I hadn’t started watching her until then.

Realizing that there were things I didn’t know about her despite my near-constant spying sent a thrill shooting down my spine. It showed that there was so much more to discover about her, more to obsess over. The more I learned about Molly, the more I fed the monster inside of me that would do anything for my sister.

The part of me that killed for her.

A beat of silence passed, and I looked her over. Her skirt was slightly askew and her shirt was wrinkled, both reminders of what I’d done to her. But I didn’t get her naked. I was going to remedy that soon.

“So…will you keep my secret?” she asked, eyes glinting like diamonds.

I smirked. “That depends. You’ll have to work for it.”

Then, I lifted her into my arms and carried her toward the bedroom so that she could get started.

Chapter 11

Molly

“We need to go.”

I looked over at Atticus in a daze, and it took a moment for my brain to process his words.

“Go?” I asked.

We were in his bed. I’d been dozing for the past half hour, my body and mind exhausted from everything he’d put me through today. I was naked, and when I looked down at my bare skin, I could see it marred with bruises in the shape of Atticus’ fingers. My hips, my breasts, my legs. He grabbed me roughly all over the place as he fucked me in every position imaginable, wringing pleasure out of me until I didn’t think I could stand any more. Then, he found a way to make me come even more. Eventually my orgasms toed the line between pleasure and pain, every nerve in my body overly sensitive. It was a sweet torture I’d never experienced before.

“It’s almost dinner time,” he said.

I sat up, all signs of sleepiness fleeing. I glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand, shocked to see that six hours had passed since I’d come here. I spent all day here with Atticus. I never went into town to meet up with Jenna and Olivia, and I knew that I’d have to come up with some kind of excuse later. They’d never believe I was searching for my phone for so long. They’d probably both sent me text messages throughout the day.

It said a lot about how consumed I was by Atticus that I didn’t even think to look at my phone in all of this time. I guessed that was what happened when I was busy being verbally degraded, fucked on every surface in his cabin, and held hostage by my brother.

Although…I wasn’t sure if I could still claim to be a hostage. He held me down plenty of times and I had more rope marks on my wrists, but I couldn’t even pretend that I wanted to leave after the first time that we slept together.

“You’re right,” I said, letting out a sigh. Leaving here was going to burst the bubble we were in. I’d never spent much time with Atticus before today, and it was a shock to realize that we had more in common than I thought.

I didn’t want to think too much about what this might mean, but Atticus got a work call while I was getting dressed, leaving me alone with my thoughts as he stepped out onto the back deck to talk to the man on the other end of the line. Being left alone for a few minutes meant there was no distraction from my turbulent thoughts. I was forced to sort through what I was feeling.

Did I torment Atticus so much because I saw parts of myself reflected in him I didn’t want to admit existed? I’d always been a it girl. I was popular in school and often felt a lot of pressure to present a certain side of myself to the world. I didn’t talk about my love of video games and reading. I never shared my fascination with science.

But Atticus wasn’t afraid to be himself in that way. He didn’t care that bitches like me might judge him for going to midnight showings of Marvel movies or collecting comic books. He wore his interests on his body, in his clothes and tattoos. He even got a job in the tech industry.

If I were honest with myself, I’d have to admit that I was jealous. He was authentically himself, no matter what people said. No matter how cruel I was to him.

I was too cruel to him. Guilt clenched my heart. I couldn’t treat him that way anymore. But that didn’t mean that I wouldn’t be stubborn or difficult occasionally. After all, I could tell that he liked it by the way heat would flare in his eyes.

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