Page 76 of Deranged (American Street Kings 3)

“If you were a clubwhore I’d have my men fuck you in every motherfucking hole. But maybe that’s what you deserve since you betrayed me,” he snarled before striking another hand across my face. This time I tasted blood…my blood. The metallic taste brought back so many bad memories—memories of fists, faces, dirty words, and pain. So much pain.

I tried to turn on my front, tried to claw my way across the floor, when he reached for my hair, pulling me to my feet. “Glenn, stop! Please.”

“And then you even shared our secrets with him.”

“No.”

“You told him about our past. Jesus, you’re just an ungrateful whore.”

I reached back, nails clawing at the flesh of his arms, trying to get him to let go. But my fight only seemed to anger him more—adding more fuel to the already raging fire in him.

Pain burst through the side of my face when he slammed me into the wall again, this time pinning me in place with his body. There was no time for me to figure out what the hell was happening; all I knew was this wasn’t my brother. This was the man who murdered those who hurt us.

“Do you remember that night, sis?”

I closed my eyes, willing the memories away.

“Do you remember the flames? The smell of rotten, burning flesh?”

“Please—”

“I remember it. I remember it like it was yesterday.” He tightened his grip in my hair, pushing me harder against the wall. “I remember their screams, their blood. The way they begged me to stop, to not kill them.”

“Oh, God.” Bile started to move up my throat.

“But I showed them no mercy, just like they showed us none when we begged. When we pleaded for them to stop because Mom needed her fucking fix. And God knew, Mom couldn’t go without the fucking shit she pumped in her arm. But you know what I remember the most of that night?” He leaned closer. “You.” I felt the two parts of his tongue slither against my ear. “I remember the fifteen-year-old girl who stood in her doorway and watched while I hacked away at our mother, and our father, and the men they brought home that night.”

God, I remembered it too. I remembered the smell of the blood, the smell of death.

“You merely stood there, not saying a word, not moving. Doing nothing. To stop. Me. You liked it, didn’t you? You liked watching me and my friends butcher them. Say it.”

I whimpered, seeing their faces. Mom and Dad. Faces beaten. Arms and legs broken. Blood everywhere. Glenn’s friends killed the men Mom and Dad brought home that night, and they helped him butcher Dad. But Mom? He killed her himself, refused to let anyone else touch her. While I stood in the bedroom door watching as he tied her up, she cried out to me, held out her hand, pleading for me to help her. To save her—just like I had cried so many times for her to not let those dirty men take me. But I just stood there, watching as Glenn tore all her clothes off, ripping them to threads, humiliating her by letting her lie on the ground naked, tied up, and stuffing her dirty panties into her mouth to keep her from screaming.

I can still remember a part of me thinking it was wrong, that what they were doing was wrong. But another part of me, the biggest part, convinced me it was justice. It was payback, Mom’s atonement for what she had done to us—all because she needed her fucking drugs. After watching them torture her for an hour, slapping her, kicking her, pissing on her, I walked over, crouched beside her and gently tucked her hair behind her ear. And I can still remember the words I said to her that night, the soft words I whispered in her ear.“You’re a big girl now.”And then I walked out, closing the door behind me, leaving her alone with Glenn and his friends. With every step I took down that hall, every shackle my parents had locked around my soul broke into pieces. Every blood smear that was splattered on the wall and floors was like bricks laid on my path to freedom—a path where the demons could no longer hurt me. And I smiled. I smiled like my entire world got righted, and I owed it all to my brother.

I owed him everything…which was why I would have done anything for him. Even become his clubwhore.

Tears burned my flesh, the memories cracking through every bone in my body. “Glenn, please stop this.”

“Say it, sis. Say you loved watching me kill them.”

“Please—”

“Say it!”

“Yes! God, yes!” I cried. “I liked watching you kill them. I didn’t want you to stop.” Sobs erupted, hard and aching, pouring out of me all the way from my gut.

“There she is.” I felt him flex against me, and then the fear of hell ripped through my spine. “There’s my girl.”

“Glenn—”

“Let me tell you a little secret, Dahlia.” His fingers teased along the side of my face, his chest flush against my back. “Mom’s friends weren’t the only ones who visited me at night. She did too.”

I stilled, unable to fight after his words shook me to the core.

“That’s right. Mom visited me too. Told me I was her big boy right before she made me watch porn so I could get hard. Hard for her.”

My body trembled, and I closed my eyes, trying to keep the tears under control. “You never told me.”

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