The Filthy Series: The Complete Dark Erotic Serial Novel (3 page)

My reflection stared back at me, mocking me. I hadn’t been in front of a mirror like this in a long time. I could nearly see all of my body. My face was puffy from crying. My loose hair was a mess. My clothes were stained and dirty, though that was normal. These were the only clothes I had save for one or two other pairs. A strangled sound escaped my lips, something between a laugh and a sob.

I ran a shaky hand over my face and walked into the bathroom attached to the room. Eyeing the shower, I stripped down. I hadn’t taken a good shower in a long time, where I actually enjoyed the heat on my skin. The warm water was calling my name. I could hear it. I never really missed taking showers after I left. It became a part of my life that I just didn’t have access to very often. It was gross, I knew it was, but I couldn’t be bothered by something I wouldn’t change.

I turned the water on, letting the first burst of cold splash across my skin. I sucked in a breath.
Fuck.
I turned away from the faucet, letting the icy water run down my back.

Once it warmed up, I started washing myself, as well as trying to wrap my head around the very idea that I was even here, in my step-brother’s glass shower, my mom’s funeral only two days away. The thought sucked the air right out of my chest. My mom hadn’t been perfect. She was flawed, a woman who gave her love too easily to all the wrong men. A woman who loved those men more than her own daughter. I pressed the back of my closed fist against my mouth to stifle the sob that left my lips.
But she is the only mother I have. And now she’s gone.

“Fuck.” My shoulders shook and the soap swirled down the drain with the water. I stood there until the water ran cold again. I wrapped a towel around me, not bothering to look at myself in the mirror again.

I stepped into the bedroom and rubbed myself dry. The texture of the towel felt foreign against my skin, but I went ahead and let myself enjoy it.
Just for now. You’ll go back to real life soon.
I considered my discarded clothes and decided against putting them back on. I dropped the towel to the floor just as the bedroom door opened and Rhett strolled in.

“Faye, I—” He stopped when he saw me. I watched as his eyes traveled up and down my body. There was something hungry in those eyes, something different than the way he used to look at me, he tried to hide it behind the hate, but I could see it. The fact that it was there awoke something inside me. Something I hadn’t felt in a very long time.

He wants me.

“Like what you see, big brother?” I turned so he could see me fully. I wasn’t ashamed of my body. I knew I had a shape that every type of man craved. Big boobs, thin waist, a decent-sized ass.

I definitely liked what I was seeing. He wore a simple white v-neck t-shirt with plaid pajama bottoms that hung loose on his lean hips. He was more muscular than I remembered. Thicker, harder. I drank him in.

Total rage covered the hunger on his face, but he didn’t look away. “Where are your clothes?”

I motioned to the pile at my feet. “Took them off. They’re dirty.”

He curled his lip. “More than fucking dirty.”

His words cut me to the bone. They shouldn’t have. People, men, had said things like that to me before and I didn’t pretend like I didn’t know. I knew my life wasn’t fabulous. It wasn’t rich and pretty, full of botox or sparkling gowns. My life was dirty. I was dirty. And I was okay with that. It was me. It was the first place I’d felt like I was free, as backward as that sounded to other people, it was the truth. When people put me down I chalked it up to ignorance, to the fact that they didn’t know their pretty life was all just a joke. But hearing Rhett say it. Hearing him put me down—it hurt like a fucking bitch.

I chewed the inside of my cheek and rubbed my nose.
No one talks to me like that. Don’t let him get to you. Show him who’s in control here.

“Did you need something?” I let one hand trail up my belly to cup one of my tits.

Rhett’s gaze followed the movement. Relief slammed into me, relief and arousal. Slick heat flooded my pussy. I didn’t want to admit that I was scared he would look at me with more disgust. I’d seen the hunger in his eyes when he walked in, but some tattered part of me feared that I wouldn’t effect like I did other men. That he would see me as nothing more than the pathetic little girl that used to love him and rip me open all over again.

“I need something.” I took a step closer to him. The movement snapped him out of his trance. The anger and disgust returned in full force. But it didn’t hurt me, because I knew the hunger was there, the desire for me, for my body. He was just trying to hide it. I fought the urge to smile.

“I brought this. Put it on.” He threw a shirt at my feet and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. I picked up the big over-sized t-shirt. A musky cinnamon scent wafted from the material.
Delicious.

I slipped it over my head, the cotton brushing against my hard nipples. I shivered, the arousal, foreign. I stared at the closed door and worried the bottom of the shirt between my fingers. Determination coursed through my veins.

I’m going to fuck him. Before I go back to reality. Before I put this all behind me, and forget that I even have a dead mom. I’m going to show him what he’s been missing all these years. I’m going to fuck him out of my system.

I’m going to fuck my brother.

FOUR

“Hungry?” A feminine voice made me jump back as I stepped into the living room/kitchen area the next morning.

A tall woman, maybe a few years older than me stood in Rhett’s white-tiled kitchen, her ginger-colored hair in a messy ponytail. She wore a sport bra and black running shorts. Bacon sizzled behind her. She frowned when I didn’t answer.

“I’m fine.” I waved her away even though my stomach grumbled. It had been a long time since I’d had anything besides a gas station quick pick up for breakfast.

Who am I kidding? That’s all I ate for any meal.

Which was why I didn’t eat much. I was the kind of person who ate only because I had to, to live.

I moved toward a tall stool at the counter that looked into the kitchen. My feet brushed against the soft carpet, the feeling foreign.

“I’m Sarah,” she said once I was sitting. She held a slim, pale hand out to me. “Rhett’s girlfriend.”

His girlfriend, huh?
Some vicious feeling ripped through my body, seeming to scrape at my very soul. I rubbed my nose. Glad I’d taken a bump in the bathroom before I came out.

I stared at the hand, not taking it. She let it linger there a couple seconds longer than necessary before dropping it. I wasn’t going humor her and pretend like I was pleased to meet her here, in the kitchen she shared with Rhett, the only person I’d ever even come close to loving.

“I’m sorry about your mom,” she said. I eyed her face, freckles were spattered across her nose, though a light of real sadness lit her eyes. “She was a really wonderful lady.”

“What?” The word came out hateful.

She frowned, her delicate eyebrows meeting in the middle. “Your mom was a really—”

“Shut up,” I cut her off. Hate simmered in my gut.

“But—”

“I said to shut the fuck up. Can you not hear?” I was standing now. The only thing separating myself from Sarah was the counter.

She thinks she knew her.
My
mother.
I stared at Sarah. A woman I had never met in my life. A woman who knew my mother, or at least the façade she wore so well. A woman who had fucked
my
Rhett.

My Rhett? What is going on with me?

Sarah didn’t say anything else, but she did cover her mouth with one of her hands, a look of horror on her face.

“You didn’t fucking know her,” I spat.

Sarah’s eyes darted back and forth. “I—”

“You don’t know who she really was.”
The things she turned a blind eye to. The way she loved me. The way she let
him
love me.

“What’s going on in here?” Rhett’s deep voice didn’t startle me. I kept my gaze steady on Sarah.

“I-I was just telling your sister that I knew her mom and I was sorry,” she gushed out quickly. Her hands trembled.

Oh fucking please.

Rhett came around from behind me and entered the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Sarah. I watched the interaction in silence, biting down on my lips at the horrible feeling the sight triggered. “What the fuck is your problem?” He directed his question at me, his green eyes narrowed.

“She doesn’t know her,” I said defiantly.

“And you think you do?”

I crossed my arms over my chest. I still only wore the t-shirt he brought me the night before. “I know more than either of you ever will.”

“You think so?” He sneered at me. “You’re nothing but a fucking brat who ran away.”

I smiled. “You’re right. I ran away for a reason.”

He frowned, his mask of hate faltering for a moment before he glanced down at Sarah. “Babe, you’re still in your running clothes. Why don’t you go ahead and jump in the shower for work. I’ll finish up in here.”

She nodded, pulling her face away from his chest. Her cheeks were red and I could see the gleam of a shiny liquid glistening in the light.

She’s crying? You have to be fucking kidding me.
I watched her walk into their bedroom and close the door quietly. She had no clue what the real world was like. She was just some delicate, pretty face. What would she think if she knew about how I had been raped multiple times, by men who’s faces I never saw.
What would she think of that? Would she cry?

I couldn’t help the dark smile that curved my lips.
Maybe while I’m here, her and I will have a little girl talk.

“Leave Sarah alone.”

I turned back around to be greeted with the sight of Rhett standing at the stove. He flipped bacon with a fork, his plaid pajama pants hanging loose on his lean hips, his muscular torso bare. “I didn’t do anything.” I slid back into the counter seat. “She started crying for no reason.”

“I doubt that,” he muttered.

“Do you?” I asked perching my chin on my fist.

He turned and frowned at me, giving me a full on view of his chest. The script name
Josh
curved just above his right peck in dark swooping lines.
Josh?
He didn’t have the tattoo before.

“She strikes me as the type of girl who cries about everything. She probably wants to save the whales, talks about world peace, and likes missionary position.”

He snorted. That’s right, he actually snorted at what I said, but he followed it with a dark look. “You think you know everything, don’t you?” He set down the fork and turned to lean against the counter, crossing his muscular arms. “That feeling wears off and when you’re older you realize that you didn’t know shit when you were nineteen.” He eyed me closely. “My guess is that you’ll have a lot of regrets.”

He was trying to piss me off. I could tell. I was good at reading men. I mean, fuck, it was my job. I had to read men, fuck men, please men. It wasn’t hard. They were transparent and good ol’ Rhett was probably the clearest piece of glass I’d ever seen. I didn’t know it back three years ago, but it was plain to see now.

I walked around the counter, taking slow steps. I stopped only a few feet away from him. He didn’t move, but he tensed up, I could tell by the way his muscles bulged. “Maybe.” I smiled at him slyly. “Maybe I am just some stupid nineteen year old girl. But I know men and I know women like her. She’s sweet, nice. Not a mean bone in that tight body.” I leaned my side against the counter, the wood pressing through my shirt. “But she’s boring.” Technically I didn’t know that at all. But I was a good guesser, a good bluffer. And judging by the look on Rhett’s face, I hit the nail right on the head. He looked like he wanted to tell me I was right, like he wanted to talk to me about it. That summer he was home he talked to me a lot. He told me about his life, about his girlfriend at the time, about the big bad world outside that expensive home we lived in. “She probably doesn’t even like to fuck you, does she?” I rubbed my hand against the outside of my thigh, lifting the hem of my shirt the tiniest bit.

Rhett’s gaze followed the movement. “You don’t know anything about her.”

I smiled and let the material drop. “Sure.” I turned around and headed for my room. “I’m going to get a cigarette and go for a smoke.” I called over my shoulder. “I don’t mind going out and showing the world what I’ve got under your pretty white shirt, but I figure you would rather I didn’t?”

I could hear his groan and I smiled, digging in my purse for my cigarettes.

This is going to be fun.

FIVE