Page 11 of Penny
“Nothing. I am going to take off. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I shrugged, neatly aligning the stack of papers to put into my briefcase.
My skin burned from his obnoxious stare, making my teeth grind. I knew the moment I looked up, he would be asking me a question with his eyes. The question he had been fighting back to ask all night. We were identical twins, and at times, I think he forgot that. Who better to read your wrinkled forehead and deep scowl than someone who looked in the mirror and saw the same expression? The anger issues that ran in our family hadn't skipped me, but I knew how to control them. My brother was like my father and didn't want to admit it. They both would slowly run a hatchet down the spine of our enemy, hacking away the muscles to tear the vertebra out. I would like to say I was more calculated by using a scalpel.
"Good night." I finally looked up at him, wanting to leave but knowing I couldn't say goodbye without one look. His brows were furrowed, and his stare softened, making my heart sink in my chest.
"How mad is he?" he softly asked, sucking in a deep breath.
"It’s bad this time. He is pissed," I replied.
The corner of my mouth fell, and my toes curled in my shoes. Being siblings, we were meant to fight, but the fear of what my father would do this time hurt like knives stabbing my gut.
"It'll be okay, brother. If you need help getting her in line, I can help. Just a phone call away. Okay?"
He nodded, putting his empty glass on the desk to stand up. His feet shuffled on the floor as he walked around to hug me goodbye. The smell of whiskey on his breath made my eyes water, and my throat constricted. I couldn't be the one to make him stop drinking, but if our father found out he drank like our grandfather, he would lose it. I left the room at that, wanting to get home and away from my twin who was falling apart.
Chapter 8
Connor
The room felt empty and my body heavy, making it hard to walk. My restless fingers flicked at my pocket lint, wanting my escape, strumming my guitar strings. I ran up the spiral staircase, needing to get to my room. The hallway spun slightly, making me stumble to a stop in front of my door. Remembering Emily burying her fingers in her pussy made me smirk.
I pressed my ear against the wood, leaning in to hear her moans. It was silent, and I squinted, wondering if she was done or just not currently moaning. Leaving her without an orgasm had prompted her to take pleasure into her own hands, and I shamelessly smirked at that. I have never had a problem pleasuring a woman, but knowing that my deprivation had made her masturbate fueled my ego. My lungs burned as I filled them with air, pushing open the door to check on my temporary toy.
The sweetness of her arousal filled my senses, and her soft breaths spiraled around me. I walked around the bed, looking down at her long legs tangled in my sheets. She looked like a queen, sprawled out asleep. Like this luxury was always meant for her. The comforter was pushed to the end and her curls splayed over the pillow. My chest slightly relaxed, seeing she’d discovered the brush in my vanity. I would need to get something to help her with the frizz. A text message to a hairstylist, asking her to come over with all the necessary supplies only took seconds.
My feet shuffled on the carpet, and my head felt slightly dizzy. Her presence was soft, luring me in with an invitation to stay in the room. My twitching fingers begged for the roughness of my guitar strings, needing to remain enraptured by the vibrations of music.
I went to the closet and pulled it open. Gently. For some reason, I didn’t want to wake her up. The need to play while watching her sleep consumed me. My acoustic guitar was light in my hands as I made my way back to her. I sat, sinking into the mattress, and pulled the guitar into my lap. Strumming the strings lightly, I looked over at my sleeping captive. She didn’t stir, and I wondered how she could sleep on the streets safely considering how deeply she slept. Had other men taken from her at night like I had?
I’d only trained a few girls in the past, and I’d never before cared where they would be going or what had happened in their pasts. Emily probably only captivated me because she didn’t seem ignorant, yet she was homeless. How had someone who appeared so resolute ended up on the streets? The confusion and mystery surrounding her life was the only reason I cared about others stripping her choice from her.
The acoustic guitar shook lightly from me strumming it. The sound covered up her soft breaths and bounced softly off the walls. I’d written my own music since I was a kid. When I was naive, I’d wanted to travel the world playing in a band. I’d wanted to drive through towns with a smaller population than my penthouse building. It made me practice every night, softly strumming the chords so my father wouldn’t hear me and break the guitar Liam had obtained for me.
The music flowed through me, pulling my thoughts to a fictitious place. One where the burn of whiskey turning in my stomach didn’t comfort me, and where I didn’t rely on my brother as much as I did. A place where I could admit that I needed him to function without being labelled as weak.
“Connor! Connor, look what I got you!” Liam yelled, pushing the door open. His eyes were bright, and he smiled wide, holding an acoustic guitar. A month ago, our music teacher at school had introduced me to the guitar, and I’d shared with Liam how happy it made me.
My beanbag chair sagged in as I struggled to get up, and I had to kick up on the floor to race to the door to greet him.
“Woah, brother! This is freaking cool! Where did you get it?” I asked him, bouncing on my toes, waiting for him to hand the instrument over.
“Don’t worry about that. Are you going to play it for me?” he asked, handing the guitar over. His cheeks were pink, telling me he was as excited as I was.
I grabbed my gift from him and ran to my bed to sit on the edge. He followed me, laughing and eagerly rubbing his palms together.
“Oh, wait! I have this for you too.” He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a guitar pick. I held out my palm, and he gently gave it to me. “Read it,” he added, smiling nervously.
The pick was light between my fingers, softer than the ones they had in school. I flipped it around and smiled.Kilbane Twins Rock Bandwas written on the back of the pick.He was always the best singer. Way better than the others in the class, but he refused to sing at home. Did this mean he would start sneaking away to prepare for our traveling band? I hoped he would. We would be able to get far away from here and not have to attend all those business meetings with our father.
I plucked the strings with my special new pick, playing “Stairway to Heaven” by Led Zeppelin. I didn’t know the entire song yet, but I would now that I had my very own guitar.
“Thank you, brother.”
“That is beautiful, Connor,” Emily whispered sweetly, pulling me from my past. That sweetness was a delicacy that shouldn’t be destroyed with heavy handling. That was what I was and always would be, a heaviness in her life, taking her apart piece by piece.
“Your pleasure doesn’t belong to you. Touch yourself again, and I will place your hand on a burner,” I growled, looking at her from under my lashes.
Her chest and eyes expanded, searching my face. I slammed my guitar on the bed, hitting her leg. She grimaced but held still. The stubborn girl needed to learn what her new life would be like.
