Page 79 of Behind the Shadows
I felt it deep in my bones, like the chilling shiver that raced down my spine when a sinister shadow slid across my skin. I sensed it with the same unnerving certainty as when my name was whispered in the pitch black when in captivity, and instinct told me exactly who it was without the need to turn around.
Some part of me had always known. The nameless hands, and the faceless voices. Not the men who bought me. The man who made it possible. My father. Pied Piper.
“No,” I whispered, pressing my shaking fingers to my mouth. “She’s lying. She’s twisting it. She’s angry I lived and afraid I’ll report everything I know to the cops. She wants to break me by telling me I’m the daughter of a cold-hearted monster.”
But even as I said it, even as I forced the words out like a chant, like a dangerous spell—my pulse was pounding out a brutal beat:It’s true. It’s true. It’s true.
And in the back of my skull, a song I didn’t remember ever learning hummed softly, and I wanted to gouge it out.
Memories I didn’t know I carried ripped open inside me—images, voices, the sting of rope on my wrists, the sour stench of sweat and fear. They surged like a tidal wave, too much, too fast, crashing through the cracks in my mind until I couldn’t breathe. Truth. Lies. All tangled together, clawing at me, dragging me under.
34
KIP
Twenty minutes later, I navigated my car through the narrow alley that ran behind Holland’s house, my attention darting from fence to fence, scanning for any signs of neighbors or Draco. The sun was still high, casting long shadows across the neighborhood, which made sneaking around feel extra risky. I parked my car beneath the thick branches of a massive oak tree—the leaves overhead forming a patchwork shield that hid most of my car from view.
Before I got out, I leaned over and pushed the button that popped the trunk. Inside, a messy pile of clothes greeted me, and I dug through it until I found what I needed—a pest control shirt, faded blue, with a stitched patch that read “Mitchell.” I changed quickly, the cool air brushing my skin as I tossed my old shirt back into the car. Then I locked up with a soft click. If anyone noticed me, I would just say I was there for a routine bug inspection. The disguise would hold up—I looked the part.
To my relief, no one saw me as I entered Holland’s place through the back door. Silence welcomed me, and I swore under my breath. Where was she? I located my cell in my pocket andmessaged her again. This time I let her know I was in there in case she returned.
Another hour ticked by as I wrestled with the idea that Holland might be my … shit. I couldn’t even think the word. Every time I thought of her naked and under me, my cock got so hard it hurt. Entertaining the idea of watching her fuck herself with my cross wasn’t going to help when I had to break things off with her. How the hell had this happened?
I knew though. The Pied Piper had planted himself in our lives without our knowledge for years, playing all of us like a puppet master. Every time we turned around, we learned a new secret about him, and how he’d orchestrated so many events in our lives.
Finally, my phone pinged with a text message. I hurried to grab it out of my pocket, my heart in my throat.
Holland:
I’m on my way home. I’ll see you in an hour.
Me:
Okay.
Gray dots jumped on the screen, indicating that she was messaging.
Holland:
We need to talk.
Me:
Yeah, we do.
I seriously doubted we were going to bring up the same topic that we needed to discuss. She had no idea what Dope had found or even who the Pied Piper was. My shoulders slumped forward with the weight of the needed conversation. I couldn’t kiss her the second I saw her or even hold her. I would lose my shit andnot stop. My cock begged for her tight cunt, and then a little voice inside my head whispered, “Sister, dude.” My dick had never deflated so damn fast.
The anticipation gnawed at me like a relentless itch I couldn't scratch, and the waiting was driving me to the brink of madness. I doubted my sanity would hold out until she arrived. Desperate for distraction, I rummaged through her refrigerator, scanning the contents until they landed on a package of ground beef. Inspiration struck, and I resolved to prepare her spaghetti—a dish that held a sentimental place in my heart. My uncle, despite his flaws, had a knack for cooking, and he’d passed his recipe down to me when I was older. The thought of the rich, savory sauce bubbling on the stove filled me with a sense of purpose as I gathered the ingredients.
I searched for a pot and pan and began cooking. I timed the food to finish around the time she should be at the house.
It seemed like an eternity later when the front door opened and Holland walked in. It fucking sucked that I had to keep my distance, but I held myself back and waited for her in the kitchen.
“Hey,” she said, her tone soft.
I leaned on the kitchen counter and crossed my ankles. “Hey. Are you okay? Draco didn’t come after you or anything, did he?”
She slipped her purse off her shoulder and set it on the kitchen table. Holland looked amazing in her dark wash blue jeans that hugged her ass and legs. I wanted to part those legs and lick her pussy until her juices were dripping down my chin.Stop!I pinched the bridge of my nose in a vain attempt to stay focused on the conversation that we needed to have.
