Page 20 of Slaughter

“That’s exactly where you’re going,” he says matter-of-factly.

I ignore him. He always thought he was my boss, and it just got worse after our parents died. Preston treats me as though I’m still sixteen. We were never close. He was like them—our father and Avery’s father. He liked the girls, the drugs, and the money. I, however, didn’t find myself in a bottle or high until I was older. I despised my father for his life choices. And I hated Preston for looking up to him and wanting to follow in his footsteps. I never understood it. The need for the power, for control. I never cared what others thought of me. Well, anyone but Avery. I wanted him to think I was a good person and wanted him to see another life with me. A way out from under his father. Then there was my mother. She was no better than the man she married. She never hurt the girls, but she never stopped him either. She liked the mansion, summer villas, furs, and expensive jewelry he gave her. She told me some are born lucky and some are born to serve. We were the lucky ones. The older I got, the more I began to understand how wrong she was.

A phone rings, breaking the silence. “Hello?” Preston answers. “Perfect.” He slaps his hand on his thigh and smiles like an idiot. “I’m about thirty minutes out. Dropping off Pres and then I’ll be there.” He nods to himself. “See you then.”

I look away from him and out my window at the New York City lights that light up the sky. They blur under my drunken state.

“I’m dropping you off at home,” he says. I ignore him. We’ve already established that. “Then I’ll be back later to pick you up.”

“Don’t bother,” I say, still looking out the window.

He grips my thigh, and my head snaps to face him. “Stop touching me, Preston!” I yell, trying to shove him off, but he doesn’t let go.

“It wasn’t a request,” he growls.

“I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you, but you need to drop the tough guy act.” I punch him in the arm. His grip just tightens. “I don’t want you here. And I sure as hell am not going anywhere with you.”

“You’ll do whatever I say, Pres.”

My jaw tightens, and my teeth grind. I want to knock the shit out of him, but I know he’ll hit me back. It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve dished it out. And he wouldn’t just slap me like Avery did. When Preston starts, he doesn’t stop. My father never taught him that. You fight till your death.

“Why don’t you do something about it?” I demand, following my brother down Mr. Decker’s hallway. We both used to spend a lot of time here but each for different reasons. Now that our parents have passed, we live here.

“Because I don’t want to do anything about it,” he answers.

I grab his arm and yank him to a stop. It takes all my strength. He spins around to face me. His hands come out, and he shoves me backward. Hard. I hit a wall, and he gets in my face. “Shut the fuck up, Pres!”

My eyes narrow up on his. “You wanna be like him? Dad?” I verify. “Preston this is wrong. What you’re doing is …”

He slaps me across the face, cutting off my words. Pressing his body into mine, I whimper. It’s not the first time he’s put his hands on me, but I’ve never told anyone. Avery would kick his ass, and that would just start trouble. Trouble that I don’t want Avery getting into. “Shut up, Pres!” he whispers harshly. “Keep your head low and your fucking mouth closed.”

Tears begin to sting my eyes when he grips my chin tightly and forces me to look up at him. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll pretend you don’t give a damn about these women.” He lets go of my chin and runs his knuckles down the side of my face. I physically shake in fear. Our parents are dead, and Avery isn’t home at the moment. I have no one to protect me from him. I shouldn’t have pushed him. “If you start to care too much, you may find yourself in their position.”

“Preston!”

I relax when I hear Mr. Decker call out his name. He’s not the first person I’d want to help me, but I’ll take it.

Preston takes a step back from me and turns to face him. “Go to the cellar. There are plenty of women to play with down there.” Mr. Decker’s eyes meet mine and he adds, “She doesn’t belong to you.”

I hate how they refer to me as Avery’s property. But it’s better than the alternative.

Then he spins around and walks away from me. Before Mr. Decker can say anything else, I run to Avery’s room and slam the door shut behind me and lock it.

“How did you find me?” I ask.

Of course, he doesn’t answer. He takes my subject change as if I’ve agreed to go anywhere with him and lets go of my thigh.

“Max will stay back at your house with you.”

“Who the hell is Max?” I demand.

He points at the man driving us around.

“Preston, I don’t know what is going on, but I don’t need a babysitter.” What the hell is my brother’s problem, and since when is he concerned about my safety?

Instead of arguing with me, he sits back and makes a phone call.

I fist my hands in my lap. Whatever. I’ll allow him to take me home, and his buddy to stay, but I’m gonna lock myself in my room and drink myself into a coma. That was my original plan for tonight anyway. I just wanted to do it with Alex, but I guess I’ll do it alone instead.

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