Wheeler (Four Fathers Book 4) Page 7

  When I hear the front door open, I slide into her closet and wait.

  Thud. Thud. Thud.

  I’m so excited, my heart dances inside my ribcage. It doesn’t take her long to get up to their room. It never does. She doesn’t like lingering downstairs alone in this massive seaside home when Trevor’s not here. Smart girl. She’s tired, and it shows in her features. The music position at the school must be wearing her out. Or perhaps their relationship is on the rocks. Small, dark circles shade under her eyes, but she’s still the most perfect thing I’ve seen.

  The gap in the slats gives me enough of a view to watch as she strips out of her clothes, discarding them in a pile on the floor. Her tits are just as I imagined, round and perky, flushed nipples, hard and needy. Her tapered waist and curved hips are what music videos are inspired by. Her ass is fuller then I thought, and it only makes me more excited to claim her. My dick is impossibly hard as she disappears into the bathroom and turns on the shower. I wait for the shower door to close before I leave my hiding spot.

  I know I should leave—get out while she’s not in the room. I’m already pushing my luck and taking risks by exposing my skin, hair, and clothes inside this house, but she is different than the others.

  I almost want to take her…and keep her.

  I creep toward the open bathroom door, and before I know it, I’m inside.

  The shower is steamed over the frosted glass separating us. I can see her form, though. She’s facing away from me, humming as she strokes soap over her flesh.

  My hand reaches out toward the glass, and I’m so fucking close, if she turns, she will know I’m here and it will be over.

  I move backwards, stepping outside the bathroom, and pull my cock from my slacks. It’s pulsating, throbbing painfully, the vein protruding and angry. Stroking firm, deep caresses from base to tip, I want to growl in relief. I stand just outside the door where I can still look at her. She bends to wash her feet, and her ass is prone. Her cunt would be in perfect view if not for the steam hiding it from me. I rub my cock harder and harder, the spray of the water pounding down on her, covering up my ragged breaths. I’m going to come. I can’t prevent it. I need the release like I need my next breath, and the heat spreading up my spine warns me of its impending arrival.

  I move back to her dresser and uncap her lotion container. I place it to my dick and give myself a final stroke. White spunk spurts into the lotion bottle, and I rush to finish, shoving my cock away and the lid back into place. I shake the bottle and place it down just as the shower turns off. I move back to the closet and wait. She takes a good five minutes in the bathroom before she emerges. She’s wearing shorts and a tank top, and her hair is wet and combed back. My heart nearly bursts out of my chest when she walks over to her dresser and uncaps her lotion bottle, spreading the spurt of product mixed with my seed up her arm, over her shoulder, and down her chest. Her hand disappears inside her top and tents the fabric of her nightwear as she rubs the cream into her tits. Fuck, I’m instantly hard again. She’s wearing me. I’m sinking into the pores of her skin. I think she knows, and she likes it.

  She climbs into bed sighing, her eyes open. She lays awake, staring out at the moon for a while. Eventually, sleep claims her mind, while my cum claims her body.

  Soon, my sweet Lucy.

  I slip from the closet and out of the room. I’m out the house and collecting the coveralls within minutes.

  So easy. So fucking perfect.

  This is so unlike me, taking such risks, but I like the rush of it. I know it will become a routine.

  Chapter Ten

  Jax

  Psychopath red flag

  #11

  You want them to like you

  Lucy, Lucy, Lucy, tonight is the night. Not only will Trevor be at the office late, but I’ve punctured his tire, and it will take time to fix. We have all night together. She will learn the difference between a real man and a weasel. I’ll never know what it is that keeps her with Trevor. Maybe it’s the money.

  Women are a mystery to me. Rowan refused to listen to me when I tried telling her about Nixon. I think I just pushed them closer together. Rowan’s never home these days, and if I didn’t have Lucy, it would eat me up that she’s so out of control. I start the engine of my car and back into the space just behind some trees. As the headlights dim, a door opens on one of the houses and Eric Pearson emerges from inside. I smirk, wondering what poor whore he’s brought here to one of Trevor’s properties, but then the ground disappears and my mind scatters into pieces.

  I’m literally being ripped apart inside as I try to compute what I’m seeing.

  My Rowan.

  And Eric. No. It can’t be.

  Would he be that fucking low?

  I almost feel dumb for even thinking the question. Of course he would, and he also would want something his son had. He hates that they’re young and just starting out in life. That he’s getting older, his wife left him, and his sons despise him.

  All my plans for Lucy flee for the moment. Ice water over a burning fire.

  My baby girl is a whore for Eric fucking Pearson. I should have killed him months ago when I found him in our house.

  Oh God, he was in our house. It wasn’t his son she fucked in my bed. It was him. The proof was right in front of my goddamn face. He was standing in her bedroom for crying out loud.

  How could I have overlooked this?

  I’m going to have to take her away. I’ll pack up, make arrangements, and we will leave. Then, when she’s forgotten about that piece of shit and everyone has moved on, I’ll slip back here and burn the house down with them all inside.

  And I’ll claim Lucy.

  She’s waited this long, she’ll wait for me again.

  My lovely is a good girl like that.

  I place the gift I planned on injecting Lucy with back in the sunglasses case and lock the glove compartment with it inside. The fifteen-minute journey home takes eight minutes when breaking all speed limits. I pack Rowan a bag first. Just things I know she will want, like the fake photos of her mom, her teddy bear she keeps on her bed, and those old DVDs of Hannah Montana she used to love. She can watch them again and remember who she used to be.

  Next is my stuff. I have to make sure I clear the basement and wipe all the computers in the house. I’ll rent this place out eventually, or just let the fucking thing rot. I pack up the essentials from the house and move money around. I send an email to Lynn, my personal assistant who I interact with mostly by email, and inform her I won’t be in the office for a while and to cancel any and all meetings for the near future. By the time I have everything in place, dawn is creeping over the horizon and Rowan still isn’t home.

  I wonder if Nixon is aware of Eric’s betrayal. Exhaustion washes over me. My eyelids close without permission. Bloody but satisfying images of Nixon sitting on his father’s chest as he carves him with his knife make me sleepy, and I drift off. Maybe I do like that kid.

  It’s afternoon when I jar awake. My hands tighten on the arms of the chair I fell asleep in. The bi-folding doors are open, and there’s noise sounding from next door. I jump up and go to the patio. I hear Rowan’s voice. Motherfucker. Storming over there, I push through the gate and see all the usual assholes together. And there’s my fucking daughter right in the middle of them.

  “Rowan,” I bark. “Time to go home. Now.” And you’ll never be coming back, I add internally.

  Everyone grows quiet, watching and waiting, expecting me to lose my shit. Within my mind, I’ve massacred them all in a hundred different scenarios, but Rowan is here. And so is Lucy, much to my surprise. She’s with him, the sandal wearing prick. Damn, I was so close last night, I nearly claimed her.

  Rowan stares warily in my direction from the pool. I don’t want to show her my true self. Not ever. I still have hopes I can fix what this pervert has broken inside her.

  Why would she let that filthy pig touch her?

  He seduced her, tricked her
, caught her when she’d no doubt been hurt by one of his cunt sons, and played on her emotions. I should have seen this happening, been there for her. Cut his cock off the day I found him in her room.

  Eric smirks at me, a gloat evident in his eyes. This is a game to him. He’s always been threatened by me and used a child as a way to get to me. I’ve never been interested in killing a child before, but to deliver his children to him one limb at a time is quite tempting right now.

  “I just got here,” Rowan says, pushing her lips out in a pout, her arms crossing over her chest, pushing her cleavage almost out of her top.

  Nixon walks up behind her and wraps his arms around her, causing Eric to stiffen. This charade is so over. Nixon was in on this façade, protecting his daddy. Fucker. When Nixon decides to add to the show by kissing Rowan on her bare shoulder, I feel the impending storm building inside me.

  They’ve ravished and ruined my baby. Turned her into a whore, just like her mother. The one thing that made me human is being stolen from me—my only grasp on normalcy, the one thing keeping me tethered to sanity is fading from my view.

  “Rowan,” I growl in warning.

  “Out of the pool,” Eric barks.

  “Yes, Daddy,” she murmurs, not to me, to him. To fucking Eric. She moves away from Nixon, offering him a pity smile, and takes the steps from the pool. She’s on display for all eyes to see. And they all fucking look.

  When did this happen?

  When did I allow them to change her?

  She grabs a towel and wraps it around her before coming to stand between us. I scan the scene before me, counting the bodies and deciding whether I could take them all. Eric is squaring off, trying to puff his chest out, thinking he could get the drop on me if things go south. He’s delusional. I’d snap his neck so fast, no one would even realize he’s dead before I’m on to the next one. I’ve already sought out items I’d use all around these dumb fucks. The fact that they wired speakers up and have them plugged into an outlet near the pool is a disaster waiting to happen. I could drop the live box into the pool and wipe the boys out in one clean sweep. The bottle Levi is drinking from is a perfect weapon to crack and burrow in his throat. So quick, so easy. Trevor would get the barbeque fork in the eye while my dick stiffened to Lucy’s screams. She won’t like the mayhem, but when it’s all over, she will succumb and beg me to take her slow. And I will. I’ll wrap my hands around her neck and mourn never being inside her as she fades from life under my grip. It’s not how I wanted it to happen, but if the others have to go right now, she will too.

  Rowan.

  Fuck.

  What have they done?

  My eyes ignite with the images flashing through my mind, and Eric falters slightly, as if he can sense the monster before him. The one he’s provoked and lured into his own backyard.

  “Jax,” Eric says, grinning like a shmuck, “you should stay and join us. Rowan is always telling us how lonely you are. So sad, man.”

  Rowan glares up at him. But she needn’t worry about his pathetic attempts to mock me. I’m not lonely, quite the opposite. This is just a game to him. Well, games change, evolve, and the most important part he will learn soon enough is you can’t win all games.

  And he will not win this one.

  “Rowan,” I seethe, dragging her gaze back toward me. She hasn’t moved, and my patience for her disobedience has reached its peak. “I don’t know what the hell you’ve gotten yourself into over here, but you’re done with these assholes.”

  “Dad,” she pleads, her voice broken, just like her. Eric’s crept inside her mind and polluted her. Eric saunters over to her, brazen. He’s just put himself in my beast’s jaw and I’m tightening my grip. I will eat this fucker alive. He just signed his death warrant. He places an arm around her in ownership and narrows his eyes on me over her head.

  I’ve solidified; I can’t move.

  I’ve lost her.

  She’s not mine anymore.

  He grabs her wrist in his overly tanned hand. “See this ring?” he goads me. “It means she’s mine now.”

  Oh hell no you didn’t.

  “The fuck you say?” My voice is ice cold, deadly. He has an audience, so he’s putting on a show. Well, I won’t jump just because you want me to.

  “Eric,” Rowan whimpers. “Not like this. Not here,” she pleads. But she’s as delusional as he is if she thinks she has any power of him—over me. This was never a game she could win. She’s just his pawn.

  Ignoring her, he kisses the back of her hand while glaring at me. “She. Is. Mine,” he tells me, holding out her hand like a severed limb. The diamond, too big for her petite finger, looks ridiculous and as obnoxious as him. “I put a ring on it.”

  “You fucking what?” I breathe, letting the rage fester in my chest, build and expand.

  “I’m his fiancée,” Rowan says proudly, lifting her chin and meeting my eyes. “And I’m pr…” she trails off as I take a menacing step toward her.

  I don’t see Rowan anymore.

  I just see her mother.

  A whore, laughing at me.

  “You will regret the day you laid eyes on her,” I tell Eric. My tone leaves no room for miscommunicating my promise. I will have my vengeance, and it will be swift and brutal. “I will end you, Eric Pearson.”

  “Get the fuck off my property.” He grins. “My son will show you out,” he adds as Nixon moves around them. “Try any shit and I’ll end you first.” Eric smirks. He has no idea his life is over. There’s not enough money in the world that can save him from my wrath.

  He reaches up and squeezes Rowan like she’s a cheap slut he picked up and paid for from a street corner.

  “Tell him, angel,” he whispers into her ear. “Tell him how I already won.”

  She whimpers, but says the words just like he directs. Brainwashed. “I have a new daddy now.”

  Sickness roils in my belly like oil on a lake. Flames skate across that sickness, becoming a blazing inferno.

  “And her new daddy takes really good care of her,” he booms. “Really good care of her.”

  He’s the kind of sick animal who should be put down at birth. His mother should have smothered the cocksucker while he was still in his crib.

  The tricks he is so desperately trying to play with me just lost any power they once had. Rowan Wheeler is gone, and so is the Jaxson Wheeler I’ve tried so hard to be for her.

  Father.

  Friend.

  Businessman.

  I’m now just Wheeler.

  Father.

  Friend.

  Businessman.

  Killer.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jax

  Psychopath red flag

  #12

  They don’t scare

  I exit their backyard with Nixon hot on my heels. He doesn’t say anything, and that’s wise of him. I think he senses the emptiness inside me. Recognizes it. It intrigues him. I’ve never met another person like me before, and I’ve never wanted to. It’s hard enough wading through the void inside myself and learning to tame the urges. Knowing someone else who’s fighting the same battle and not having control over them would be frightening if I could feel fear. Control is something I seek and want, and everyone can be controlled if you really want to dissect their psyche and find the trigger inside them.

  Everyone but me and people like me.

  We’re the superior beings not controlled by our emotions. Some people will say I’m acting out of emotion now. The love I’ve lost for Rowan. But it’s not true—it’s just that I refuse to lose to a man like Eric fucking Pearson. He wronged me on a level I can’t ignore. I’m just not built that way.

  “You okay with him taking what you want?” I ask Nixon. What’s fucking mine.

  He shrugs, and I want to laugh because I see it there in his eyes. The rage. I want to coax it out of him, send him spiraling into a murderous wrath, but Rowan’s moans sound out into the air and my hands twitch. Nixon’s face falls, an
d a cloud overcomes his features. Perhaps the affection for Rowan isn’t faked on his part. When they get louder just inside the gate, bile forms in my throat, and Nixon storms off in the opposite direction of the house.

  This ends today.

  Eric Pearson ends today.

  Grabbing the shovel from the basement, I get to work in the backyard. The sun is hot and blisters my skin, but I don’t stop. I dig and dig. I’ve done this before.

  Déjà vu, motherfucker.

  Sweat coats every inch of my skin, and my mind focuses on turning this mud out until my shovel hits its goal.

  The laughter and noise from next door soon falls silent, and the sun gives way to dark clouds. The sky opens up, pelting down droplets of rain. It crashes over my skin, soothing the blisters from the sunburn.

  I can’t believe it has come down to this. I never expected betrayal from Rowan, but she has her mother’s blood coursing through her veins. I should have realized it was inevitable.

  Thoughts of her mother filter into my mind.

  She was my first kill. It was sloppy and impulsive. I’d met her in a bar. I was on a conference trip and staying at a hotel. I hated those events, but money gains you privilege in life, so establishing myself with wealth was always in my plan. I would then relocate to somewhere off the grid and enter the dark web to pay to have my fantasies fulfilled. I’d heard of an underground organization located in Russia where the more money you have, the darker your requests can be. I never planned on becoming what I am. But she forced my hand. I gave it all up for Rowan.

  Her mother approached me that night and seduced me. I’d always been an awkward teen. Teased and mocked throughout high school. It took time for me to understand I was different. Better than them. I grew into my features, and my body formed nicely with exercise, but I’d never really test-drove my new appearance.