Hayden (A Next Generation Carter Brother #4) - Lisa Helen Gray Page 0,1
I can take them home with me. I wouldn’t put it past my dad to have cameras on the front and back door, ready to defend my ‘innocence’. My dad would slaughter him and hum a tune whilst doing it.
Getting off on his floor, I head over to his door, not bothering to knock. He leaves it unlocked when he’s home, so when the handle tilts down, my question of whether he’s in or not is answered.
Anger sears through me and my pulse slams against my neck when the distinct sound of fucking echoes throughout the flat.
I can handle a lot of stuff when it comes to men. I can pay for my own food, open my own doors, buy my own shit and even pick them up if need be. I can even tolerate bad manners, to an extent. But the things I can’t handle in any relationship are uncleanliness, lying, and fucking cheating.
Instead of leaving, I carry on down the hall and past the bedroom, where there’s a distinct sound of skin slapping and loud moans coming from inside. I’m just about to pass the bathroom when I come to a skidding stop, pausing just outside the door when an idea hits me.
An evil grin spreads across my face as I step inside the small room. I was going to change his hair gel to glue, but I’m under a time limit and I’ve got no clue if he even has any glue. The toothbrush calls to me, so I grab it and scrub the grime from the toilet before dipping it into the stained yellow water, then wash the bits off that get stuck to it. The toilet was the one thing I made him clean before I even came over. I haven’t been around for a week, so it’s disgusting. I guess he wasn’t planning on us coming back together tonight, even after I cancelled on my cousin’s party.
Next, I head to the cupboard that holds the boiler. After years of watching my uncles fix stuff, I’ve learned how that stuff gets broken, especially with two triplet brothers. I turn the hot water tap off before completely breaking it, cringing when it makes a loud clink. I pause, waiting for any signs they heard me, but the sex marathon continues, fuelling my anger.
The girl he’s fucking gets louder, and all I can do is grit my teeth and roll my eyes.
“Bitch, he ain’t that good,” I mutter, helping myself to some eggs, flour and tomato sauce. I grab the mop bucket, which is full of dirty water, and start making my concoction. Maddox had fun with this one as a kid, though he never used dirty water. Once it’s all in there, I look through the cupboards, cringing when I find the stale bread. I throw that in there too before finding a few other items, including bolognaise sauce, brown sauce, and some kind of jelly—though when I open the sealed bag, I don’t think that’s what it is. I tilt my head into my shoulder, covering my nose as I try to get myself under control and stop gagging.
Looking around the small kitchen, the fridge catches my attention. I grin at hitting the jackpot and do a quick dance before yanking the door open.
Everything is for the taking, and it’s gross as fuck.
Milk weeks past it’s expiry date and a few tubs of already made foods fill the shelves. Perfect for what I have in mind. I quickly set on pouring it all into the bucket, turning when the foul odour gets stronger.
Breathing through my mouth, I lift the bucket and head out of the kitchen, my body locking when I see the string of underwear and clothes strewn across the room. I block it out, heading towards the sound of them fucking.
I lift my leg and kick open the bedroom door, before stepping inside. I try to veil the simmering anger, but it’s no use. The second I step inside, the sight alone has fury thundering through me. He actually thought he would get away with this.
The globes of his pale arse bounce up and down like a jockey on coke. Whenever he got that excited with me, it diminished my arousal. It’s a shame because he’s a good-looking bloke and has the right goods down below. He just needs to learn how to use it. Which is why I always demanded to be on top. I could control his movements then.