Cruelty Page 14

Luca stood and came to sit next to me, grabbing my hands and forcing me to turn and look at him.

  “Ella, this isn’t an intervention. We’re trying to point out things that you have never done before. We don’t think you’re on drugs, but we do think it’s something else.”

  I shook my head, not getting where he was going. “Like what?”

  Luca looked to Theo, who nodded back at him and pulled a bag out from behind one of the couch pillows. He walked over and sat on the other side of me and placed the bag in my lap.

  “These better be more twinkies,” I replied heatedly, pointing an accusatory finger at the bag. I was a bit short after last Saturday.

  “Sorry, no twinkies. We picked up some things today that are a bit more important at the moment. I don’t know if you remember the last time you had shark week, but we do. And it’s been… a while,” Theo said, his face morphing into worry.

  Shark week? What did a TV show have to do with… HOLY FUCKING SHIT!

  It had finally dawned on me what they were trying to tell me. I completely forgot Theo had named my time of the month shark week because, apparently, I became a psychotic bitch whenever it hit and would try to bite their heads off. Apparently, I was a biter and didn’t even know it. But those were all his words, not mine.

  “No. No fucking way. We use protection!” This isn’t fucking happening! Nope!

  “We just want to make sure, El,” Luca replied to me soothingly, rubbing my hands in his. “Just take the tests to be sure. That’s all were asking. Please?”

  I looked between the three of them, completely mortified. This couldn’t be happening.

  “Fine!” It was as if a fire had been lit under my ass. I jumped up from the couch, but stopped before going into the bathroom and pointed at all of them. “But I better get some more fucking twinkies for this!” Then I went in and slammed the door before they could respond. I had to know now that an unbelievable amount of paranoia had set in.

  I dumped the bag haphazardly onto the counter, letting the contents rain onto it. The guys had picked up two different boxes of tests with two tests in each. I had a feeling they figured I wouldn’t believe it if only one test showed me a positive result. And I’d want a second brand just in case the first was inaccurate. It was annoying how well they knew me.

  I ripped into the boxes and prayed to anyone listening above to give me the amount of piss I was going to need to take every one of these. The guys tried several times to knock on the door and ask if I was okay. To which I responded by telling them to step away from the door or I’d murder them in their sleep. Which I might still do.

  It took a little while since I had to stop and stick my face under the faucet of the sink and drink more water. I dared not look at a single test until every fucking one of those baby sticks was fully saturated.

  When I was satisfied, I closed the lid of the toilet and sat, setting a timer on my phone and waiting for the last of the tests to catch up with the first couple. I would wait as long as I could, putting off the inevitable task of having to look at them. As I sat there waiting, I tried my hardest to remember the last time I’d had my period, and I couldn’t. It really had been a while. There had been so many sexy times with my men, I couldn’t even pinpoint any particular time we might’ve forgotten protection.

  When the timer on my phone dinged, I launched off the toilet and stood at the counter, bracing myself against it for what was to come. I stared at myself in the mirror and took a few deep breaths in and out. There was a good chance this was just a fluke and I wasn’t pregnant. No big deal. I could do this.

  Three… two… one…

  I looked down and my eyes flicked between all four tests. Clear as day and glaring at me right in the face, were four positive tests.

  “Noooooo!” I shouted, snatching the tests up and slamming open the bathroom door.

  All three men jumped back, obviously having been listening at the door. I did the only mature thing I could think of and threw the tests at them. Hard.

  “Which one of you did this? Which one of you implanted me with his seed?!”

  Luca did the very unsmart thing and laughed loudly at my choice in words. I sent him a glare and wished I had another test to chuck at his head.

  “Ella, it’s going to be okay. This isn’t a bad thing,” Theo tried reassuring me, stepping forward to try and put his arms around me.

  “Nope! Not doing it! This means nine months more of no fucking wine, and honestly, I hate all three of you for that. Nope. I’m leaving. Goodbye forever.” I turned on my heel and headed for the front door but was immediately snatched off my feet and thrown over a very large shoulder.

  “Not happening, sexy,” Rollins growled out at me, delivering a swift smack to my ass and causing me to yelp out.

  “Hey! I’m carrying precious cargo up here! You can’t smack me!” I yelled at him, attempting to lift myself off his shoulder. He just smacked my ass again.

  “Not in your ass you’re not.”

  “Well if something had happened in my ass, we wouldn’t have this problem now would we?”

  Theo and Luca both fell into howling laughter at my remark.

  “She gets kinky when she’s mad. I love it,” Luca commented, amused.

  Rollins walked me over to the couch and flipped me off his shoulder onto it. I bounced helplessly and immediately tried to get up to leave once again. He stopped me by sitting down and grabbing my arm to anchor me next to him.

  “Stop, El. Look, sure it’s not ideal. But we love you and we’ll love this baby just as completely. That kid will have so much love, it won’t even know what to do with it,” he told me, using that sweet voice he only ever used when I gave him a BJ.

  I huffed and crossed my arms, realizing I wasn’t going anywhere with him next to me. It didn’t help either when the other two surrounded me to ensure that.

  “Zoe’s parents did it, and she turned out great. Why are you so against this?” Theo asked, kneeling in front of me.

  “I don’t know. I never planned for kids so soon. I’m a damn mess. I mean, come on! I just got off probation. This kid’s mom is a criminal. And I can’t have wine anymore. So, I’m cranky.”

  Rollins chuckled and wrapped an arm around me. “We will get through this. You’re also not a criminal. You’re a damn good person with a heart big enough to love more than one man. You have saved animals from living cruel, tortured lives. You’ve faced being chowed down on by a bunch of rabid dogs. And you put away two awful people. You’re going to be the best fucking mom out there and you’ll have three men to be there every step of the way.”

  I looked between the three of them and their matching tender stares directed at me. I sat there, just staring back at them in wonder. Rollins was right. I was so unbelievably blessed in this life. And while sure I couldn’t drink for a while and was a bit of a mess, I couldn’t deny that I already loved the life growing inside me. It was a piece of me and a piece of them. Technically only one of them could really be the biological father, but I knew immediately I would never figure out who it was. As far as I was concerned, they were all its fathers.

  Nothing in my life had ever really gone to plan. The world was a very cruel place, but somehow, it all still ended up here. With me having the best job in the world, three dogs I would do anything for, and three men I would love and cherish the rest of my life. I was lucky.

  If I could face all of that and still come out here, in this moment, then I could be a mom.

  “Okay. Let’s do this,” I said to them, tears now beginning to stream down my face.

  The three of them cheered and enveloped me in their arms, kissing my cheeks and taking turns running hands along my stomach.

  Yeah. I could definitely do this.

  This was my life and I was going to kick its ass.

  Spotty days and all.

  THE END

  It goes without saying that I seriously have the best supporters and helpers when it comes to my books.


  First, I’d like to thank my alpha reader Meghan yet AGAIN for being a total badass through this book. She always manages to keep my ass in line and helps me put together all my random crazy thoughts into sensical words. You’re the best and I’m never letting you out of your servitude… I mean job.

  To Lainie for being a total freaking rockstar and outlining this book for me, because I have ZERO organization skills and you have like… A LOT of organization skills.

  To Missy for being the best damn editor! I love your face because you make me seem smart. I make TONS of mistakes, and you fix them with your sorcery.

  To all the ladies in the Villainous Retellings Series for doing this with me and making the experience so much more fun as we go through this journey together. YOU GUYS ARE THE SHIT!

  And finally, to my amazing readers!! You think I’m funny when I’m pretty sure I’m not. You put up with my whining when I get sick and can’t finish my books quicker. AND, you read me at all. That’s something special that I can never replace. I love you all dearly!!!

  A PEEK AT IDENTITY: A VILLAINOUSLY ROMANTIC RETELLING

  ONE

  “Gods be damned, Su. You are one beautiful woman now,” Atlas says from his position above me on his elbows.

  I lift my head to capture his lips again. The soft hemp necklace around his neck brushes against my skin with every move he makes. Atlas has the same dark tanned skin as his five older brothers. A product of their forced occupation. That’s about all they have in common.

  Atlas hooks a finger and runs the edge down the tip of my nose.

  “Where’d ya go, Suzie Q? I miss you.”

  He hasn’t called me that nickname in years, and I’m ashamed to admit how much I miss it. I choke back my cry of grief. Even in my dreams, I can’t escape my misery.

  “Well, while I’ve got you here…” he starts before kissing the tip of my chin and leaving me wanting.

  I hold my breath, anticipating his next words, but they never come. As he opens his mouth to speak again, a loud blaring horn fills the space between us. My eyes widen in surprise as I try to comprehend what’s happening, and he clears his throat and tries again. Only to fail with another loud blare.

  Groaning, I roll over and press stop on the stupid alarm on my phone, though, I’d rather toss it across the small space of my studio apartment. With it being a replacement for last month’s bout of anger, I cover my face with a pillow instead.

  Shut away from the world and reality, I let my tears fall. I’ll never show any weakness in front of anyone else again, but this is my safe zone. At least twice a week, my dreams betray me and everything I’ve worked so hard to forget.

  My lips feel swollen from Atlas’s imaginary kisses, and I swear I can still smell the lingering scent of him surrounding me. I miss the fuck out of him. In the same hand, however, I miss his five brothers the same way. They were all important to me in one way or another, which made it six times as hard when I left them. I’ll both never and always regret my decision to leave.

  The alarm goes off again, forcing a low, frustrated growl from my throat. Throwing my pillow off my face a little too hard, it crashes into the small lamp on my bedside table. Of course, the lampshade flies off while the glass portion of the lamp smashes on the floor.

  I curse my rage issues as I let out a puff of air towards the ceiling. There isn’t enough room in this tiny apartment for all that mess. All it would take is one real Hulk tantrum, and that would be all she wrote. This place would be in shambles.

  Sucks about the lamp. It was a thrift store find, though, and easily replaceable. A pillow and lamp short now, and I still haven’t turned off the obnoxious alarm. Letting out another puff of breath, I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed before reaching out a finger to touch the off button on my phone. Growling at the broken glass near my feet, I straighten and carefully walk the four steps to the other wall for the broom and dustpan. If I get cuts on my feet from it, that’ll just make me one cranky witch. To save myself and the people that will have to be around me today, I get it swept up and tossed in the trash can in the corner under the sink.

  My hands reach for the ceiling as I stretch the kink out of my spine and come to my feet. Sucking in a deep breath of air, I hold it there for a few seconds before slowly releasing it as I bend to touch my toes. Meditative yoga only lasted for a week before I called it quits, but a couple of the techniques stuck with me. Like this one that I do every morning as I get ready.

  Combining the fact that I don’t set my alarm until the absolute last minute with the time I’ve already wasted, I’ve got less than five minutes to grab a shower and throw some clothes on. Dropping my tank on the corner of my tiny twin-size wall bed, I pitch my panties in the hamper and step towards the shower in the corner that’s barely big enough to fit one person.

  But, what the hay. I consider myself lucky to even have a shower in this place, despite it taking up space in the ridiculously small twenty by twenty room. The two nerdos across the hall not only have to share a room, but they also don’t have their own private shower. They have to share one with three other apartments at the end of the hall. Now that would be a gigantic bummer. Do I miss the old days of having a private bathroom as big as this room? Nah. Because the one thing I have now that I didn’t have back then is my freedom, and I wouldn’t give that up for anything.

  If I wasn’t pressed for time as it is, the water heater would rush this process. I’ve got a good seven or eight-minute window before the lukewarm water drops to tepid then to frigid without warning. The first couple of weeks living here, I’d about broken my neck hopping out of the ice-cold spray. One time I even got wrapped up in the shower curtain.

  I’m out in two minutes flat. The whole barely having any hair thing is a major help. Before my life became what it is, my hair was a long, dark mane of thick locks. There was no denying its beauty, but it was always such a hassle. Took forever to wash and dry, not to even mention styling. Some days I wonder if I’ve just told myself those same things so many times now that it must be true, and it wouldn’t have anything to do with keeping my identity a secret from everyone around me. Not even the crazy boys across the hall know my true name.

  Stepping out and towel drying my body to the best of my ability, I run a hand through the dyed white locks on my head. The sides are buzzed, so it’s easy enough to run the top through my fingers and it’s ready to go. Sitting in a salon chair every three weeks for touch ups so my dark roots don’t show is so worth the quick prep in the mornings. It’s the one concession I allow to come out of my budget for my appearance since I don’t splurge on make-up or clothes like a normal girl. There’s a bag stashed inside my bug-out duffle under the sink with some dollar store makeup, but I never wear it. That particular bag is emergency use only.

  I shut those thoughts down quickly. The thought of the duffle reminds me that this isn’t a game. Just thinking about it could jinx everything.

  Humming under my breath to forget about the bags, I try to lose myself in remembering lyrics to old musicals while getting dressed. It’s the middle of the week, so I’ve got to don the old nine to five work uniform. The black slacks and white buttondown is hardly a uniform compared to some, but it’s mild compared to the leather and bright colors of my everyday wardrobe. I’ll wear the clothes they want, but I stick to my guns with my shoes. I’ve been written up several times now for refusing to wear their dress shit. At this point, they’ve given up trying to talk me out of my boots, and if the bosses were going to fire me, they’d have done it a long time ago.

  Speaking of which, I lace them up before covering the tops with the purposely-bought bootcut slacks. Call me a Girl Scout or psycho even, but I slip a small switchblade down the inside of my left one for good measure. Grabbing my soft leather jacket off the coat rack by the door, I double check to make sure I’ve got my keys, headphones, and wallet. The only thing missing is my phone, which I snatch off the now empty table. Without bothering to lift the b
ed into the wall, I stroll out into the hallway and lock the door behind me.

  Should’ve known I wouldn’t be alone. Orsam is dressed to lady kill in sharp blue jeans and a pastel pink Henley. He’s propped against the wall across from me as he or his brother does almost every single morning, like they’re waiting on me to wake up and make my appearance.

  “What? All alone this morning?” he asks, a sly grin pulling his cheeks up.

  I scrunch my nose at him.

  “Why does that surprise you, funny boy?”

  He covers his mouth with his hand.

  “Because after all that moaning you were doing in there, I was sure you’d brought home a stray last night.”

  Keeping tight control over my face so that I don’t blush, I roll my eyes toward the ceiling.

  “It wasn’t my room you were hearing it from. That was your brother from the top bunk.”

  “Now that’s just all kinds of wrong, witchy woman,” he replies. “You know we don’t have bunk beds in here.”

  Shrugging my shoulders with a smile, I link my Bluetooth earbuds around my neck and pop them in my ears as I take off down the hall towards the stairs.

  His voice calls out, “Be careful driving to work on your deathtrap, witch.”

  I flip my middle finger in the air, and his chuckle follows me into the stairwell right before my music kicks on. The Hollies “Long Cool Woman” rushes into my brain, forcing me to put some dance into my step as I descend. Nothing like a little bit of old school rock and roll to make a day better, especially when your current situation is trying to ignore the sour damp smell of the building in which many people call home. My apartment was scrubbed top to bottom and is as clean as I’m physically able to make it. Considering half my neighbors aren’t as dirt conscious as I am, it tends not to stay that way. I knew that would be the case when I first rolled into town and laid eyes on this filthy place. It was without a doubt where I’d be staying, and it came as no surprise that there was a vacancy. If there were ever a place I’d not be looked for, it would be here. No one from my old life would be caught dead in a place like this, and in my book, that makes it better than perfect.