Hate me

Grimacing, I adjust the spaghetti strap of my peach chiffon bridesmaid dress, wishing I was anywhere else but here. 

My lips twist into a scowl as I watch my mother and her new husband careen around the dance floor. 

People smile and clap when he dips her and plants a lingering kiss on her lips. 

They look so happy it’s nauseating. 

Peeling my gaze away from the train wreck, I walk over to the bar stationed in the corner. 

“What can I get you, pretty lady?” the bartender asks. 

Hoping he takes mercy on me and doesn’t ask for my I.D, I say, “Vodka and Sprite.” 

He looks me up and down, assessing me. “Do you have I—”

“My mother’s the bride,” I whisper. “I could really use a drink.” 

Make that twenty. 

He fills up a glass and winks. “Okay, but if anyone asks, you didn’t get this from me.” 

Giving him an appreciative smile, I pick up the glass he sets in front of me. “Thanks.” 

I wander over to the back of the large room, trying my hardest to blend in with the wall. My mother doesn’t have a big family and neither does her new husband, so thankfully it’s not a big wedding. Aside from my senile grandmother and an a

A

God, everything about this marriage is sickening. 

My father’s body wasn’t even cold before she moved on. 

Closing my eyes, I take a sip of my drink, hoping the alcohol quells the anger in the pit of my stomach and makes being here a little more bearable. 

I’m about to go back to the bar and ask for another one when my phone vibrates.

I smile when I see his name flash across the screen.

“Hey, you,” I answer. “Shouldn’t you be dancing?” 

I hear him chuckle over the line. “I’m too busy looking at you.” His voice turns serious. “You look beautiful.” 

I scan the room but don’t see him. “Very fu

“Interesting,” he muses. “I was just thinking the same thing.” 

I bet he was. 

I amble to the other side of the room, hoping to spot him. “Where are you hiding?” 

“I just slipped out the back door, and now I’m headed toward my car…waiting for a beautiful redhead to come out here and join me.” 

 “Is that so?” I tease, placing my empty glass on a table. 

“I need you, Aspen,” he croaks, and I can’t help but picture him stroking his cock as he waits for me. “I’ve been hard as a goddamn rock since I saw you.” 

Pi

I startle, nearly dropping my phone when someone grabs my wrist.

A surge of animosity flows through me like hot lava when I look up and realize it’s Knox. 

The asshole isn’t just my bully and enemy anymore…

He’s my new stepbrother. 

Tightening his grip, he escorts me to what appears to be a coat room. 

“What the hell?”

“Let’s get one thing straight,” he snarls, cornering me until my spine meets a row of coats. “Your whore mother marrying my father changes nothing between us.”

I almost want to laugh, because I don’t like this new arrangement any more than he does. 

However, it’s comical just how much it’s ruffling his feathers. 

“Awe, what’s the matter, Trenton?” I taunt. “Afraid I’ll—”

Words die in my throat when one hand slams across my mouth and the other one hovers over my throat, threatening to squeeze. “I’m not afraid of anything, Stray.” 

He utters the last word with so much venom I nearly wince. Out of all the cruel nicknames Knox has given me over the years, this one hurts the most. 

Because it’s the truth. 

Ever since my dad died, I’ve felt lost and abandoned. 

Like a kitten who lost its way and will never find home because they don’t belong anywhere. 

He leans in close, his ruthless stare burning a hole right through me. “But you should be.” 

A shiver runs down my spine, not only because of his threatening words and the hostility they’re laced with…but the lethal way he’s looking at me. 

As if he’s contemplating the best method to kill me and dispose of my body afterward. 

I’ve heard all the rumors going around school. 

His mom was murdered when he was twelve…

And his dad sent him to a mental institution for a year while he covered it up. 

Because Knox was the one who did it. 

People weren’t terrified of him just because he was a bully who got off on terrorizing others.  

They were terrified because he was a legitimate psychopath who was capable of homicide. 

Until now, I wasn’t sure I believed any of the gossip. 

At six foot three he towers over my five-four frame, but I force myself to peer up and look him right in the eyes. “Go to hell.”  

Deep down I’m petrified of the lunatic, but I refuse to let him see that. 

My breath hitches when he presses his body against mine and the hand looming over my throat constricts. “I live there.” 

Live? More like ruled because as far as I’m concerned, he’s the devil. 

My retort falls by the wayside, though, when he leans in and his mouth brushes mine. 

I’m about to ask what the fuck he’s doing, but a sharp sting shoots through my flesh when his teeth clamp down on my bottom lip and I taste a hint of copper. 

I try to pull away, but that only makes the pain worse. 

Thinking quick, I knee him in the balls. 

With an aggravated grunt, he finally releases his hold. 

I expect him to be pissed so I brace myself, preparing for another attack, but to my surprise there’s a trace of amusement in his expression. 

His tongue darts out and I see the glint of metal from his piercing as he swipes the blood gathered on his lip. “Welcome to the family, sis.” 

With those cryptic parting words, he turns and storms out.