Page 80 of Corrupt Obsession

She broke eye contact with Jesse to see Dad standing on the front steps.

“Is something wrong?”

Bottled up emotions tore up her insides, making her eyes water.

Dad’s expression darkened. “What is it?”

Her mouth worked before she finally got out, “Jesse pissed me off. I want to catch the bus instead of riding with him.”

Dad blinked, clearly surprised. She and Jesse rarely quarreled. There had been no need to in the past.

“Jesse?” Dad prompted with a frown.

“I’ll make it up to her.”

Her skin prickled as Jesse gave that ominous promise.

“Avoiding your problems isn’t going to solve anything,” Dad admonished, shaking his head. “I taught you better than that. Settle it on the way to school. I’m sure Jesse didn’t mean to upset you.”

The pressure in her chest increased. A scream vibrated at the base of her throat.

Dad tossed Jesse a set of keys. “Take the truck. I need the SUV today.” Dad gave her a level look. “Be good.”

The subtle rebuke made it clear that he thought she was overreacting and being childish. Dad walked into the house. Several seconds later, the garage rolled up to reveal the truck that was almost as old as she was. It took a minute for her to have enough control to stalk to the truck instead of having a meltdown. Jessie didn’t fetch his bag until she was settled in the passenger seat.

She buckled up and twisted her hand in the dark blue seat belt as the yellow school bus she’d been waiting for cruised past. All she wanted was a moment’s respite from him, but it seemed like the world was conspiring against her.

Jesse didn’t say a word as he started the truck and reversed out of the garage. Silence reined between them as they left their neighborhood. Her stomach was tight as a fist.

“Did I hurt you?”

He meant physically, but he didn’t have to leave a bruise on her skin to hurt her. Marks made in passion would fade. It was the hundreds of invisible, razor-thin emotional cuts he inflicted that she knew would scar and haunt her for the rest of her life.

“Does it matter?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. That wasn’t my intention.”

“Whatwasyour intention?”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “You know.”

To scratch his itch before he started his day? She didn’t fight back when he cornered her in the bathroom, ushered her into the tub, and pinned her against the tiles to ravage her. She didn’t resist when he pushed her to her knees and fucked her mouth. It was only after he’d left her kneeling in the tub with her face dripping, and she heard Mom singing in the kitchen, that she snapped out of her daze and retched.

She wasn't sure why this morning was different from the others. He’d done far more demeaning things, but today it struck her how truly warped their relationship had become. The fact that they hadn’t exchanged a word during that whole encounter, and he left the moment he achieved his goal, made her realize he’d truly turned into Amnon. He didn’t loathe her, but he was addicted to using her to slake his lust and didn’t care how that impacted her. Their relationship has turned into a sour, tangled, depraved mess.

Jesse had changed. He no longer cajoled. He no longer petted and stroked to prepare her for him. The affection she’d come to expect from him had vanished. She was just a body to him. No one seemed to notice that his smile wasn’t the same, that he rarely laughed, and there was a hardness to him that hadn’t been there before. When they were alone, and he wasn’t wearing a mask, she was chilled by what she saw in his eyes. Her brother was gone and in his place was a stranger, one capable of anything.

When Jesse took the wrong exit, she gave him a sharp glance. “Where are we going?”

“For a drive.”

Her blood turned to ice. “No!”

“We need to talk.”

Talk? That was something they no longer did. Their commutes to and from school were done in complete silence. The only time they casually conversed was while hanging out with mutual friends or around their parents. If they were alone, Jesse was too focused on getting her on her back to ask about her day or hopes and dreams.

“We have nothing to talk about.”

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