Page 39 of His Beloved Princess
"Seriously?" I slammed my palm on the table, almost breaking the glass surface. "That's what you say!"
"You didn't see her!" he objected, raising his hands in a surrendering gesture. "Her dress was so short that it almost didn't cover her ass, and her boobs begged for attention. Would you say she was there to pray?"
"You pray to God that this story has a happy ending, or I'll send you to meet him!" I yelled, seeing red. That kind of talk about my princess infuriated me. It was outrageous and highly inappropriate to speak about my woman like this.
"I just want you to understand that I didn't kidnap her," he retorted, leaning into his seat. "She wanted to get laid."
I clenched my palms into tight fists, gathering all my mental strength to prevent myself from breaking his nose. I hated how disrespectful he was to women in general. It was like he was talking about meat.
"Did she know about the other guy?" Andreas asked, standing next to the table between Peter and me. He had a great position to stop me if I lost my cool, which, given Pete's words, was highly probable.
"Well, this part is slightly blurry," he replied, grimacing as if he tasted something bitter. I grabbed the table's edge, squeezing it with my hand, barely holding myself together. I knew it! I fucking knew she was covering for him.
"Blurry, how?" Andreas asked instead of me, frowning at our younger sibling. He was very close to me, ready to stand in my way if I decided to listen to my first instinct and choke Peter to death. He and his friend forced themselves on the woman I loved. He was one wrong answer away from meeting his maker.
"She didn't know about it upfront," he began, nervously drifting his gaze from Andreas to me. "But when she found out, she agreed."
"Elaborate!" I commanded, and his eyes widened in surprise, at least for the tenth time since he arrived. He was perplexed about what I wanted to know, yet his feelings were the least of my concerns. I had to examine the situation to the last smallest individual feature. Otherwise, I wouldn't find peace.
"Do you want all the details?" he asked, blinking in confusion. Yeah, it wasn't pleasant for me either, but it was the only way to find out if she was or wasn't sexually assaulted.
"Yes," I grumbled, glaring at him. "That's exactly what I want."
"You're a fucking masochist." He shook his head in disbelief, putting his hands on the table and entwining his fingers. I almost saw the wheels in his brain spin. He was trying to find the proper words to describe the sex part, and I would've probably laughed if it wasn't so dreadful. He was right; this was pure torture for me.
"I was giving her head when my friend stuck his dick into her mouth. That's the moment she realized there were two of us," he explained, chewing his bottom lip, his eyebrows knotted above his eyes. He expected me to hit him right then, yet I was still able to control myself. It wasn't all.
"And?" Andreas prompted him because he realized I wasn't in a good state of mind to question my brother about this. I needed to smash something. I never feltsuch a strong urge to break somebody in half. That impulse almost consumed me whole.
"And nothing." Peter shrugged, looking directly into my eyes. "She nodded in agreement, so we continued having fun."
"Nodded?" Andreas repeated, flashing me a glance. "She didn't express her consent?"
"For fuck's sake, she didn't start yelling, biting, and kicking either!" he countered, anger appearing in his dark orbs. He was convinced of his truth that they didn't hurt her.
"She might have been scared," Andreas continued, pushing him. I wasn't sure what he wanted to prove, but I knew that he was mostly intensifying the tension in the room. In my head, Peter forced Electra to submit to him and his friend. That was all that was on my mind.
"Did she say that?" Peter yelled, standing. He was angry, but his emotions were nothing compared to mine. I was raging, burning with fury from the inside out. I was seconds away from exploding. "Did she say we forced her to do something against her will? That we raped her!"
"No," I replied as calmly as possible, rising to my feet. "She said that she enjoyed it."
"Then why are you accusing me of hurting her?" he shouted, throwing his arms in the air. I bit my tongue to stop some poisonous comment from leaving my mouth, and instead, I walked to the bar, taking the half-empty bottle of whiskey.
"She lied about your first meeting," I responded, pouring us a drink. "How should I know that she didn't lie again?"
I motioned for him to take one glass, but he didn't move. He was watching me through narrowed eyes, cautious about my every move.
"I begged her not to tell you anything," he admitted, his face darkening. It was like he was ashamed that he had asked something of her. "Believe it or not, I don't want to mess things up."
"Yes, because you need us," Andreas growled,his expression mixed with disgust and anger. He couldn't get past the thought that we had a brother who wasn't our mother's son. He tolerated Peter only because the others put up with it.
"Why is it so unimaginable for you two to digest the fact that maybe I want to be part of the family?" Pete rumbled, shaking his head and smiling sadly. "I didn't sleep with Electra to hurt you, Bastian," he stated. His voice was dripping with certainty, and I believed him. "I didn't decide to be born to destroy your parents' relationship."
"But you're here," Andreas spat, his words soaked with venom. "And you're proving to us every single day that you're only a disgusting stain on our family's reputation."
That was harsh, and even though Peter was like a tornado, unpredictable and unstable, he didn't deserve this. Yet I was pissed at him. I still wasn't convinced that Electra slept with him because she wanted to, and if I had to choose a side at that right moment, I would pick Andreas, no matter how idiotic his words were.
"Our father is a man who sticks his dick in everything that moves, and I'm the problem?" Pete shouted, and I frowned, thinking when the conversation turned so sharply. They were seconds away from jumping at each other, as always.
