to see what she’d look like with my cum streaking her body.
Jesus, worst timing ever.
“Later,” I say, turning my back on her. “I’m trying to sleep.”
The rustling of her clothes as she walks stops.
Go. Turn around, leave.
You’ll thank me later, darling.
“Josiah, I’m scared.”
As if to punctuate her statement, a flash of lightning paints the room white. Candy yelps, and I’m sitting up in a rush a moment later, my heart pounding as a wild crack splits the air with noise.
When I look at her, she has both hands to her chest, her eyes wide.
“It’s just a storm.” I’m not in control of the words—they seem to come from someone else.
She shakes her head, even attempts a laugh, but it sounds hollow. “It’s my mom.”
“This again?” There’s a snap in my voice, but she doesn’t hear it. Doesn’t care. Thunder grumbles outside while she comes closer, and then the first faint patter of rain hits the tiled roof far above. “Just call her up and—”
“I’ve been trying the whole day.” Candy hesitates, and then perches on the edge of the bed. She turns her back to me, staring out the window as her fingers reach up and pull her braid over her shoulder. She starts toying with it, fingering its length and pushing stray strands back into the weave. “It just goes to voice mail.”
With a sigh, I collapse back onto the bed. This shifts the quilt, but I manage to yank it over my dick just in time.
She looks over her shoulder and gives me a sad smile. Then she holds something out to me. I take it gingerly—it’s a cheap-looking ring. Thin band, tiny green stone.
“Pretty,” I murmur, handing it back.
“It’s my mom’s.”
I want to ask her why it’s significant, but for the first time, I see something in her blue eyes that makes me feel like an asshole for being so annoyed with her.
Dark shadows have stolen the light from her baby-blues.
“You really don’t think she’s with her sister,” I say.
Candy shakes her head. Her eyes dart to me. “Did you hear what W-Wayne said?”
Why does she trip over his name like that?
I shake my head.
“When he came back.”
I shrug at her, frowning. She glances away. “I didn’t want him to catch me in his room, so I hid in the closet.”
“You hid?”
“I was—” she cuts off, but I know what she was about to say.
I was scared.
I get it, my dad’s an intimidating guy.
She waves at me. I think it’s meant to come across as glib, but instead, she just seems desperate to change the subject.
“It sounded like he was talking to his lawyer or something.” Her eyes are back on the window as the rain starts splatting against the glass.
I push up onto my elbows. “Uncle Quinten?”
She shrugs. “He said they were asking him all these questions about—” She glances at me over her shoulder, and then faces away again, “—about Emma.”
Discrepancies.
Why would he lie?
The same reason he keeps that top drawer locked—there are some things better left unknown. Sick, dirty urges better left in the dark where they belong.
She’s toying with her hair again, but a small section has come undone. It lays along her spine, shifting as she talks.
I want nothing more than to smooth it away and tuck it back into her braid.
My cock throbs, and I realize I’m shoving it into my lap. Before I can take my hand away, Candy looks back at me.
She frowns. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”
Crazier than me? I almost laugh. Her eyes dart down to the hand in my lap. Then up to my face. As if she’s only just realized she might be interrupting, she bobs up to her feet.
She’s not wearing a bra, and that sudden movement makes her tits bounce.
“I’m probably just imagining it,” she says half to herself, as she starts backing out of my room. But as if she’s too frightened of what will happen when she turns her back, she does it facing me. “I…I’ll go…”
“You’ll stay.”
She blinks, stopping in her tracks. Gives her head a tiny shake. And then squeals when lightning crashes mere yards away.
I can’t take it anymore. I’d been trying to get all this shit out of my head, but it all keeps flooding back in. It’s like I’m chained down on a carousel horse, destined to go around and around until someone stops the ride.
Candy can stop it.
She’d make the perfect distraction.
Her eyes are squeezed shut, her hands in fists by her face. That