Page 22 of Tricked By Jack
A turret with a round stone balcony extends from the back corner, overlooking the private yard at the back. The driveway at the front is all cracked stone and overgrown, and the entire property is framed by wrought iron fencing.
It’s like a place taken right out of a horror movie, which is part of its charm. The floorboards groan even when you’re still. The shadows gather like they know something. It’s a house made for haunting—now it just needs a ghost.
Another part is the rumors that circulate amongst the locals here in Riverdale. People talk in hushed whispers about the previous owners who died in a dramatic murder-suicide.
And if I’m honest with myself, that was what hooked me. When the real estate agent informed me of the property’s history, I couldn’t say no. A murder-suicide, exactly what Ruby did.
“Dude, are you still there?” Ned’s voice pulls me out of my head and I refocus on the phone call.
Instead of wondering what he might have been saying while I wasn’t paying attention, I ask, “Is your sister confirmed for the bridal preparation?”
“She’s in.” His response is immediate, assured.
“Happily so?” I ask, already knowing she isn’t.
Ned grimaces. “No, man. She’s still heartbroken after losing her… boyfriend or whatever.”
I nod along. “Do you know who it was?”
He shrugs. “No clue. Never met the guy and she never gave me a name. I just know she’s still not over it. But she’s made sure Eve attends, and that’s all that matters.” He swallows thickly. “She knows her place, Jack. Even if she’s not happy about it, she’ll handle the dress alterations, makeup, hair—everything to get your Bride ready for the ceremony.”
“Good, I’ll make it worth her while,” I state dryly. “The dress will be delivered tomorrow. I don’t know if she needs a look at it to—”
“I’ve already shown her the picture,” Ned says, interrupting me.
“Perfect.” I allow myself a moment to imagine my Bride in the dress, the dark fabric against her pale skin. It’ll be theatrical in the best fucking way.
“Something you should know,” Ned interjects, his tone shifting slightly. “I ran into your Bride-to-be outside the apartment complex this morning.”
My interest sharpens. “And?”
“She was pissed. Like, nuclear-level angry.” There’s a hint of admiration in his voice that I don’t particularly care for. “Her little friend apparently has a broken arm and a concussion. They kept him overnight for observation at the hospital. But when he was discharged, he refused to let her help and apparently blamed her for his injuries.”
I feel my lips curve into a cold smile. “Did he now,” I muse. “Well, I suppose that’s fair. If he hadn’t been in her life, I’d have no reason to hurt him.”
Ned chuckles darkly. “Good point. But you should have seen her, Jack. She was spitting fire when I passed her.”
Frowning, I ask, “Did she tell you all that?”
“Nah, man. She was on the phone when I walked past her, and I might have lingered a bit.”
“Anything else I should know?” I ask, keeping my voice neutral despite the annoyance clawing at me. I don’t care if Caleb’s angry with her, that’s not my problem. But it bothers me if his tantrum is loud enough to drown out the sound of me in her head.
When he tells me that’s all, I let him know I’ll stop by as soon as I’m done here. I don’t know if Eve opened her invitation, and it’s important that she does. After that, I end the call and toss my phone onto the bed.
Alone again, I let my mind drift back to Eve in that hallway. The way her body had tensed when I pinned her wrists above her head. The initial resistance when my fingers slid between her legs, followed by the damning evidence of her arousal.
Her cunt was wet. So fucking wet. She tried to lie, to trick me with her fucking mouth, but her body folded like a prayer—open, trembling, begging. Not for mercy. For more. And that’s something I hadn’t expected at all.
I’m not oblivious to Eve’s attraction. She’s devastatingly beautiful, with curves that could make a monk weep. But until last night, I never considered playing with her body. Her mind, yes, but now, her reaction to me has changed the game.
My cock hardens at the memory, pressing uncomfortably against my zipper. I groan quietly as I cup my erection. It would be so easy to jerk off, maybe even do it inside the cage and leave my cum for her to sit on…
No, I’m not a fucking teenager that needs to introduce his hand to his cock every hour. The next time I nut, it’ll be inside her. This isn’t just about want. It’s about debt, about what she owes me.
Instead of hanging about, I reach for my black duffel bag. My mask and gloves are already inside, so I just add another box with a rose in it. After putting on my leather jacket, I shove the second invitation into the inner pocket. Then I head to Ned’s.
When I get there, I take the fire escape two steps at a time. Reaching the right floor, I tap on his window, and the fucker actually grins as he lets me in.
