Page 16 of Dead Bled Ringer
“Boys, I have a little treat for you.”
The television on the wall lit up and a woman biting her lip filled the screen.
Her hands twisted behind her back, reaching for the clasps of her lacy white bra as her breasts spilled into the frame.
“How do you want me tonight?” she breathed.
My stomach instantly dropped, my body filling with the familiar nausea as I dragged my eyes away.
I could kill my brother right here.
But what if I couldn’t find all the videos?
“Look at the screen,” Henry ordered, kicking his feet up on the desk and leaning back in his chair.
I didn’t want to. I fucking hated the fact that threaded through my cold hatred and revulsion was that sick flame of arousal I got from seeing her beautiful, lush body naked.
“Sick tits,” one of the other men commented, yanking on his suit collar.
The woman on the screen moved, wriggling out of her pants so we got a perfect view of her plump ass.
“Fuck, she’s hot,” the first man said again.
“Shewashot,” Henry corrected, his cold psychopath face staring unsmiling at the screen. “About 40 pounds ago.”
There was a knife in my pocket, and I tightened my fingers around the razor-sharp blade so hard I felt it slide through my flesh.
He was taunting me. I knew he was. Trying to get me to do what he wanted. I couldn’t react.
So I said nothing.
IpromisedAngel I’d never do it again. Never fool her again. Even though she hated me, I had to keep this promise.
“Boys, if you get married,” Henry said, “Make sure it’s to someone who knows going to the gym isn’t optional.”
I tasted blood in my mouth, felt blood dripping between my fingers. Could he hear how ragged my breathing was? How close I was to losing control?
My twin picked up the remote and pressed another button.
Pretty pink toes on a black and white tiled floor filled the frame as she walked with balletic grace through the bathroom.
Oh, even this fucker wouldn’t dare?—
Then her silky pajama bottoms fell to the floor as she sat down.
No NO
There was a collective intake of breath in the room as I heard a telltale stream hitting the water below the porcelain rim.
“Ohhhh, fuck, this is the good stuff, boss,” one of the turds moaned, grabbing a scraggly limp dick from his pants and starting to stroke himself vigorously. “How much for her to piss right on me, because?—”
Pure bloody rage filled my vision and I grabbed his scrawny little neck with my hands and began to squeeze.
He gurgled in distress, but I only tightened my grip, slamming his head against the wall once, then again.
The other foul associate tried to grab my arm, but I kicked him away, hearing the satisfying crack of his pelvis as he fell to the ground in agony.
The first man was turning purple, his hands clutched helplessly at mine, but I didn’t care.
