Page 1 of Treacherous

Prologue

3 months earlier

Noah

"Don’t you want to make mommy happy, Noah?" my mother asks me and I nod eagerly.

I'm seven years old and I want to do anything to stop her from crying. To stop her from marking her body with those horrible crucifixes. I know that when I'm big I will never pray. I don’t want to pray ever again. I promise myself I won't. But I don’t tell mom that. That would make her sad. I keep it a secret. I'm good at keeping secrets.

"Then climb inside with me," she coaxes, holding the closet door open. Her brown eyes are wild and dark and I'm afraid to get into that closet. I know what will happen if I do. It's a bad idea.

"You're safe out here, mom," I tell her, hoping she'll believe me this time and not get mad.

"Do you want to die, Noah?" she screams and her face distorts into ugly mom. Not pretty mom. Ugly mom is mad and scary and cuts her skin with her nails.

"No," I whisper even though sometimes I think it can’t be worse than this...

"You're going to die," she hisses as she scratches her arms. "We're both going to die…like him. Just like him."

"No, we won't," I tell her as calmly as possible. I wish my dad would come home soon. He knows how to make mom feel better. He gives her that special medicine wrapped up in silver foil and she sleeps. Maybe he's gone out to get some medicine for mom?

"It's the devil inside you," she snarls.

Ugly mom doesn’t like me. She calls me names and that makes me sad. Pretty mom is much nicer. I hope my dad gets here soon…

Reaching out, mom grabs my sweater and drags me into the closet. "Pray," she spits as her long nails dig roughly into the flesh on my arm. "Pray for your soul, you evil child…"

Jerking awake, I grabbed my bed sheets and lay perfectly still, breathing slowly as I tried to get a handle on myself.

I hated those kind of dreams – the one's that reminded me exactly why I needed to keep doing what I fucking hated most.

The sun shone through my half-closed blinds, letting me know I'd slept away the best part of another summer's day. I had hoped to be up early enough to go hiking with Logan, but obviously I'd overslept – again. I couldn’t seem to stay awake these days.

"Noah, are you awake yet?"

My bedroom door sung inwards and Ellie Dennis, mystep-sister,stood in the doorway clad in nothing but a bra and thong.

Well, I assumed she was wearing a thong. She was facing me so I couldn’t actually see her ass, but it was a solid guess considering she liked to prance around the house in next to no clothing.

Ellie had her poker-straight, waist-length black hair pulled back in a pony-tail, making sure her curvaceous frame was on full display. "How are you feeling?" she purred in that slinky, cougar voice I hated. It was the voice she used when she wanted something – most often my dick.

I let out a heavy sigh and flinched when a sharp pain ricocheted through my side. "I'm alive, aren’t I?"

"I missed you, Noah," Ellie crooned. "You were gone longer than usual."

"No shit, Ellie." Usually I worked closer to home and made it home each night, but my last job was out of state and it had taken a week. I finally made it home late last night, and I was feeling every one of those extra days.

Ellie stepped further into my room, walking over to my bed. "By the way, the house next door is occupied – a new family moved in last week."

Rubbing my face with my hand I let out a sigh. "And you're telling me this because…"

"You know why I'm telling you this," she shot back heatedly, her green eyes flaring like her temper. "Dad says we're supposed to keep…"

"Please stop talking to me about your dad." I didn’t need this crap. Not today. Not after last night…

"Do you need a massage?" she asked, smart to change the subject, as she sat on the edge of my bed and leaned closer. Her breasts strained against the tiny scraps of red lace covering them.

"No, I really don’t," I replied, entirely uninterested in what she was offering.

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