Page 8 of Van


  "Now I've seen you," I tell him with bored disinterest, "so I'm going to be on my way."

  I start to stand from my chair, but before I can pull the receiver away from my ear, I hear him say, "Think you're going to get that Cup this year."

  It feels like my heart stops beating as my butt hits the chair. I press the receiver hard into my ear and listen as he continues, "Didn't think I'd know who you became, did you?"

  Fuck no, I didn't think that. He was never given my new identity. All his letters to me had been addressed to the name I'd been given at birth and sent to Etta.

  "Saw you on TV," he says proudly. "Couldn't believe that was my boy...a damn professional hockey player."

  Fury and hopelessness well up within me. This is a secret I never wanted out, and frankly, never thought it could get out. Any evidence of Grant VanBuskirk was wiped clean when Etta adopted me and changed my name. The court records were sealed.

  "You better keep your fucking mouth shut," I growl into the phone.

  "Or what?" he taunts back.

  I'm frozen in place without any rejoinder. I can't do a fucking thing to him, and he knows it.

  I'm surprised when gives a dismissive wave with one hand. "Relax. I'm not going to tell anyone. Wouldn't get me anything anyway, and besides...you're my son. I protect what's mine."

  "I'm not your son," I grit out. "Your rights were terminated--"

  "My jizz is what knocked up your bitch of a mother," Arco says into the phone, and his voice causes me to freeze with fear. It's dark, seeping with madness and coated in malice. He sounds unhinged as he continues. "You got my fucking DNA, boy. You're my son no matter what some paper says. A regular chip off the old block."

  My head spins as I feel like the little boy who used to visit his father in jail while he was awaiting trial. Wanting to love someone so desperately, but knowing in your heart of hearts that you couldn't because he was pure evil.

  My mom made me visit him with her, and he'd put me on his lap and say those exact words to me. You're a chip off the old block.

  He didn't know it then, and I didn't know it then, but those words have fucking haunted me most of my life.

  Am I?

  A chip off the old block?

  Clearly there's something wrong with him. I've read so much fucking stuff on sociopathy, all of it depressing as hell, as it can't be fixed. Bluntly explained: the brain circuitry is fucking broken. It's why I wanted to go to college and get a degree in psychology, so I could possibly analyze why my father did the things he did. And most important, I wanted to try to figure out if there was a chance I would turn out like him in any way, because half of my makeup was from his jizz as he says.

  "You got questions for me, boy," Arco says as he impedes my thoughts.

  Not a question.

  A statement of fact.

  I refuse to give that to him. I might have a million and one fucking questions, but I can't seem to bring myself to ask them. To do so would give reveal to this foul creature that I'm worried about myself.

  I mean...it's true.

  I'm so fucking worried.

  I'm withdrawn and can't make personal connections. I like to fuck women, but that's all I want from them. I don't desire intimacy or love.

  How much of those things are because I share the DNA of a serial rapist and killer?

  "You want to know if you'll grow up to be like me, don't you?" he whispers into the phone, and my hair stands up on the back of my neck.

  My throat is so dry I can't answer. Besides, if I opened my mouth, I'm afraid I'll hurl vomit against the glass.

  Arco leans in closer, and I actually lean back. We don't have to be close to hear one another. He grins at me, and I note his teeth are yellowed with nicotine.

  "I'll tell you a little secret that no one else knows," he says in a low, promising voice.

  I want to hang up the phone. I know I should and get the fuck away from this man. But I can't move. I want to hear the secret as much as I want to run far away.

  "I didn't kill my first person until after I married your mom," he murmurs into the phone. "I know I alluded to there being many throughout the years, but truthfully...I didn't start getting those wild urges until then."

  I can't fucking help myself as I croak, "Why then?"

  Arco shrugs. "Who knows? I know I always wanted to control women. Wanted to do vile things to them. And of course I did. I'm thinking maybe it was just me reaching a certain age. Maybe I had to just grow into the person I was supposed to be."

  Jesus fuck...I'm two years younger than when this sick fuck started raping and killing women. A sludgy, thick swell of self-disgust rises within me and I have to swallow hard against the bile in my throat.

  My hand shakes, threatening to drop the receiver. I clamp on tighter and ask him one more question. "Did you ever love her?"

  Arco blinks in surprise. "Who? Your mom?"

  I just nod at him.

  He leers at me through the glass. "Fuck, no. She was a means to an end. A front, so to speak. And she gave me a kid, which made her semiuseful. But let me tell you, my boy...you don't know how many times when I was fucking that cow I wanted to put my hands around her throat and just squeeze--"

  I slam the phone onto the receiver and push up out of my chair. Giving my back to Arco, I head toward the exit. I can hear him banging on the glass and his muffled yells that I can't quite make out what he's saying. I'm afraid if I look back at him--eyes all crazy and vile admissions falling out of his twisted mouth--that I just might recognize something of myself in him.

  --

  I spend the day driving around, ruminating over what I learned. I do this until the late evening hours, wanting to assure myself that Simone has gone to work when I get home. It's close to midnight when I prowl through our dark house, and I have a small measure of relief when I see light under Lucas's bedroom door. At least he's not out fucking some stranger tonight.

  Once in my room, I pull the shoebox out from under my bed and take off the top. I put the letter from Warden Glyner on top of the contents and replace the cover. Sliding it back under my bed, I resolve that I'm going to keep Simone far, far away from me.

  For her own safety.

  Chapter 10

  Simone

  I walk catlike through the house, knowing I can't avoid the several creaky spots. It's 2:30 A.M., I'm dead tired from my shift at Lulu's, and both Van's and Lucas's cars are parked out on the street. Lucas told me he was staying in tonight. I hope that's true. This morning while I was munching on some cereal, wondering where in the hell Van had gone, Lucas came out of his room. He looked tired, but I couldn't detect any shame on him.

  So I asked. "Did you screw that blonde?"

  He glared at me before he poured himself a cup of coffee. "Not that it's any of your business, but no."

  "Oh, thank God," I said, and then beamed a smile at him. "I'm proud of you."

  "Whatever," he muttered as he sat down at the table with me.

  "I'm sorry about last night," I told him. "About that thing with Van. I was just trying to shock you and stop you from doing something stupid."

  I told Lucas this, of course, to protect Van from any fallout should my brother become suspicious.

  Luckily, Lucas nodded. "I figured as much. Van isn't exactly the make-out kind of guy."

  God, no, he isn't. He's the type to throw me facedown on the bed and fuck me with his clothes still on.

  "Maybe you should stop the partying for a while," I gently suggested. "It leads to bad decisions."

  I was surprised when he let out a long sigh and said, "Yeah...I know. I'm just going to lay low until we get through the play-offs."

  When I'd gone to work tonight, Van still hadn't made an appearance, and Lucas was on the couch. He said he was going to call it an early night, and his bedroom seems quiet behind his closed door. I note that Van's room appears dark from under the door and just as quiet.

  I wonder if he sleeps naked.

  Re
gardless, I turn left into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I pile my hair up on top of my head and strip while I let the shower warm up. The hot water works out the kinks in my body, I scrub myself down with my favorite body wash, and then I shave. After drying off, I slather my body with my favorite body cream, which smells of lilacs and vanilla, and then eyeball the pajamas sitting on the vanity that I had put in here before I'd left to go to work. With my suitcases still in Lucas's room, I always make sure to put my after-shower essentials in here before I leave for my shift.

  The PJ's are nothing more than a cotton pair of shorts and a tank top, but as I consider Van in the next room--a man who told me less than twenty-four hours ago I'd lost my shine--I'm thinking they're a wasted effort.

  I want to make him eat his words tonight.

  Still, I reach into my toiletry bag and pull out something I'd stowed in there earlier today. Clutching the condom in my hand, I'm armed and ready to go.

  With the towel wrapped around me, I quietly open the bathroom door and look left to Lucas's room. Van's is directly across the hall from me and I tiptoe my way there, thankful Lucas is generally a heavy sleeper.

  Still, we'll need to be quiet.

  The minute I open it, the door to Van's room lets out a dull squeak that causes me to wince. When I step in, the same squeak is issued as I shut the door. My eyes start to quickly become accustomed to the darkness made easier by the moonlight filtering in the open blinds beside Van's bed.

  "Don't even think about it," he growls softly from the bed, and I can actually see the moonlight glinting from his eyes as they stare at me.

  "Don't even think about what?" I whisper as I drop the towel from my body.

  "Get out, Simone," he whispers harshly as I walk to the bed.

  "You don't want that," I say confidently.

  "Jesus fuck," Van hisses at me as he sits up in bed with his back against the headboard, and I can just make out his naked torso with the sheets pulled up over his lap. "Your brother is across the hall."

  "I know you heard my loud side already because you know I'm quite a screamer," I tell him as I raise one leg and place my knee on the edge of the bed. "But I promise...I can be very, very quiet."

  Van's hand shoots out and he clamps it on my wrist, squeezing hard enough he has my attention. "Simone...you need to stay away from me. I am not a nice man and I will hurt you."

  Now that I just don't believe. Sure he's cranky as fuck and a complete introvert, and sure he was not gentle with me last night, but I've seen enough of Van Turner to know that I'm safe with him. I refuse to let my heart get involved, and he makes my body feel fucking fantastic, even with his rough handling. I'm more than good.

  I ignore Van's warning as well as his grip on my wrist, shooting my own hand out to whip the sheet off him. My eyes can see enough now that I can tell he's naked and that he's got an impressively large hard-on.

  "Were you jerking off when I walked in?" I ask curiously.

  Van snarls an expletive but then admits. "No...that's all you."

  Now that's nice. See...he's not so bad.

  "Brought us a condom," I whisper. "I suggest you let me ride you slowly and quietly. I'll grind a great orgasm out for both of us."

  "Simone," Van hisses again at me, giving my arm a slight jerk. "Will you just leave?"

  I answer by swinging my other leg up and over his lap, straddling him. This happens only because he lets my wrist go, and I'm wondering if that's capitulation on his part. A sizzle of molten lust races up my spine as I feel his cock prodding my backside. I place the condom on his lower abdomen, a silent promise of what's to come.

  Leaning forward, I place my hands on his shoulders and peer at him through the bluish moonlight. "Admit I'm still shiny."

  "You need to leave," is all he says.

  "Admit it, Van," I say as gently. "It won't hurt, you know."

  "You'll get hurt," he mutters through clenched teeth.

  "I call bullshit," I whisper teasingly, then lean in to brush my lips against his. I'm heartened when his hands come to my hips, his rough palms feeling amazing against my skin. "I get you're a commitment phobe. You aren't big on relationships. You shouldn't be fucking your teammate's sister. I get all of that. But this is just between you and me, and I think both of us have our eyes wide open. No one's getting hurt."

  "You don't get it," he says in an exasperated rumble.

  I press my ass backward and rub against his cock. He groans softly and grips my hips harder.

  "I get it," I tell him with gentle reassurance. "I'm a pain in your ass, but I'm a sexy pain in your ass and I'm totally hard to resist. But, Van...just try to relax a little and enjoy whatever this is. Okay?"

  He looks at me a moment, his silence not boding well for me. But finally he says, "This is all there is. It's just sex and no one knows about it."

  "Okay, fine," I say. My heart soars with relief and I start to rub against him.

  Van's grip tightens and he holds me still. "I'm serious, Simone. We're not dating. Hell, we're not even exclusive as far as I'm concerned. But if you want to offer up that sweet cunt, I'm going to take it."

  "Now that's just rude," I chide him. "But fine. I accept."

  Except I in no way will truly agree to that nonexclusivity shit. But I'm not too worried about it. He's going to get it so good from me he won't look anywhere else.

  I pick up the condom from where I'd left it on his stomach, but before I tear into it, I ask him, "We are still friends, though, right, Van?"

  A low rumble of annoyance vibrates through his body, but his lips curve slightly at the edges. Still, his cranky side really comes out when he says, "Just shut up and put the condom on."

  The brat inside of me wants to continue arguing with him, confident I could probably get him to admit that he likes me a little as friends. But the turned-on woman inside of me wants to ride this man until he's seeing stars.

  So I scoot back and roll the condom on his thick length. He's silent other than the sound of him sucking in air through his nose as my hand squeezes him.

  "I thought about giving you a blow job," I whisper as I shuffle back up to hover over him. "But I'm too greedy. I need you inside of me."

  "Christ," he mutters softly.

  I reach down and take him in hand, guiding the tip to my entrance. I'm totally wet, but I'm also completely tight. We've had no foreplay. Barely a kiss.

  Still, the thought of taking him like this is a complete turn-on and I resolve myself to work my way down on him slowly so I can accommodate.

  "Mmmm," Van growls as I rotate my hips to help take him inside me. I give little panting noises of effort, enjoying the slight burn of him stretching me.

  When I've taken in a few inches of him, I give a tiny whimper of pain as I stretch some more.

  "Fuck," Van mutters, then he's pulling me right off his cock.

  "Wait," I exclaim softly, never forgetting that Lucas is across the hall.

  "You're not ready to take me," he murmurs, and then he's yanking me up his body even as he slides down onto the mattress. With powerful hands under my ass, he lifts me up and settles me right over his face. My legs feel like jelly and I have no choice but to sink down on him.

  "Oh God," I moan quietly as his mouth starts to devour me from below.

  "Ride me, Simone," he urges with his mouth against my wet flesh.

  So I do...flexing and tilting my hips back and forth over his tongue. I have to stick my fist in my mouth when Van manages to wedge a hand in between us, pressing two fingers deep inside of me. He pumps in and out a few times and adds a third finger.

  My hands go to the headboard and I lean forward, pressing my clit right down onto his lips. I ride his face, chasing a whopper of an orgasm I can feel brewing.

  Van's tongue hits me hard and my eyes practically cross as he pulls his fingers out of me, only to press the tip of one finger right in my ass. It makes my hips curl under hard as I bite down on my lower lips so I don't scream. Van
sucks hard on my clit, pushes the finger deeper into my ass, and I explode all over him with a tiny grunt past the teeth imbedded in my lip.

  Giving me a hard swipe with his tongue, Van's lifting me up and pushing me back down his body. I'm completely languid, ready for bed.

  But his order is curt. "Get on that cock, Simone. You promised to grind out an orgasm for me."

  I shake my head and blink my eyes. Oh yeah...we still have stuff to do.

  I'm immediately reenergized, taking his cock in hand once again. I lower myself onto his shaft and I'm nicely relaxed. My body absorbs every inch like a dream, and I'm able to slide all the way down until my ass sits flush on his pelvis.

  With a cocky air, Van tucks his hands behind his head, and he watches me as I start to move. I go insanely slow, not giving him the friction I know he wants. But I do grind myself hard onto him with each stroke, reveling in how Van's breaths start becoming harsh as he watches me.

  Reaching a hand back, I lightly pinch and tug on his balls. This causes him to suck air between his teeth, and he responds by pinching and tugging on my clit. My eyeballs roll into the back of my head, and for a few moments I forget to move.

  But a hard twist to a nipple and my eyes spring back open and I start to ride his cock. I move a little faster, but not enough to cause the bed to groan or creak. I flex my pelvis to take him as deep as possible, and I know he likes this because his soft grunts tell me so.

  "I'm so fucking close," he whispers to me, his hands once again taking my hips. I expect him to aid in my efforts, as Van seems the type who would bounce me up and down on him.

  But I'm surprised when he says, "Lift up. Let me just fuck you with the head of my cock."

  A shiver races up my spine. I've never done that before, and I'm pretty damn adventurous.

  I immediately comply, raising up almost the entire way off his shaft, and then I hold in place as Van moves his hips in short, punching stabs into me. True to his word, he fucks me with just the head of his cock for several strokes, our breath coming faster and faster.

  Finally, he slams me down onto him, and the feel of him hitting me so deep knocks an orgasm loose. My teeth go down into my lip against as I let the quietest of moans rumble through me. Van's hips shoot up off the bed and then he whispers, "Fuck me...I'm coming."

  God...yes he does.

  Beautifully.

  Not totally unexpected just a few moments later, he's rolling both of us so he can pull out of me. The condom is peeled off and thrown in the garbage, and then Van is nodding toward his bedroom door. "You better get out of here. We're playing with fire with your brother right across the hall."