LOGINMaren.“New list tomorrow.”That was the whole text. I was still on my bed with the first file sitting in Recents when it landed. No soft landing. No question. I locked the screen and put the phone on my stomach and listened to Mom run water down the hall like the house was still ordinary.It was not.I took the phone downstairs before I could invent courage. Mom was wiping the counter. I set it face-down next to the fruit bowl.“You are going to get jam on that,” she said.“I will move it.”I did not move it.Colton came through for water. He looked at the phone. He looked at me. He drank and left. Placement became the language. The file sat under glass where she made coffee and neither of us picked it up in front of her.He kept sending them.Not every night. Enough nights that my Recents stopped looking like a life. Grocery list. Grocery list 2. Grocery list Sunday. Always the same name so her eyes would slide off it. Always AirDropped while I was still trying to get my skirt down.
Maren.“Connect it to the car, baby. I cannot read that tiny screen in the sun.”Mom said it like it was nothing. Like I was still the daughter who made real lists. Like Colton was only her husband in the back seat and not the man who had fucked me against the washer eighteen hours ago and named the proof Grocery list.I was twenty-two. I had been back under their roof for eleven weeks, since the studio above the pharmacy grew black mold and stopped being legal to sleep in. Colton had married my mother four years earlier, when I still split nights between campus and a friend’s couch. I used to say his name because stepfather felt like a costume. Now I said it with his cock in me and a red timer running on a shelf.He sat behind me. One ankle over his knee. Sunglasses on. Quiet in the way that meant he was counting how often I swallowed.“Just play it,” he said.Mom glanced at him in the rearview. “See? Even Colton wants to get in and out. Lemons. The good bread. Whatever else you save
Maren.“Do not cover your mouth.”Colton had me against the washer with my skirt around my waist and his hand already between my legs when he said it. The dryer thundered behind us. Mom was in the front of the house on a call about a potluck. The laundry room door was shut. The lock was a thumb turn I had watched him twist.“Colton. She is twenty feet away.”“Then you better sound like you are folding sheets.” He dragged two fingers through me and swore under his breath. “Phone is on the shelf. Voice memo is already going. You come, I want the exact sound. No palm. No biting your wrist. Understand?”I looked at the shelf. His phone sat face up, red timer running.“You are recording this.”“I am recording you. There is a difference.” He pushed my panties aside and rubbed my clit with the pad of his thumb until my knees dipped. “Say you understand.”“I understand.”“Good. Hold the edge.”I held the edge of the washer. He freed his cock and dragged the head through me once, twice, then p
Juniper. “Door’s open,” Cade said from the hallway. “Good girl.” The house had gone quiet after ten. Holiday lights still bled gold under my door from the tree downstairs. Someone had left music on low in the living room and forgotten it. My suitcase sat open on the floor with the same sweater hanging out of it from this morning. I had not touched it. I had not answered Mira. I had not answered the three missed calls from my landlord asking when I was coming back to a flat that still smelled like floodwater. Adrian came in first. Then Ronan. Then Cade, who locked the door this time and left the key in like a statement. “Sweater off,” Adrian said. “On the bed. On your back. Knees up.” I did it. The air hit my skin and I felt how used I already was. Sore. Swollen. Still wet from the kitchen. Ronan stood at the foot of the bed and looked at me like he was taking inventory. “We do this in order tonight. Then we take you together. Then you sleep. Then we write January.” “I can hear
Juniper. “Sit.” Adrian pointed at the stool at the end of the island. The kitchen was empty. Brunch plates were stacked in the sink. Voices had moved to the living room and the front drive. We had minutes, not hours. I sat. Yesterday’s sweater. No underwear. The wood was cold and I felt myself smear on it the second my bare ass touched down. Cade noticed. He always noticed. “She is leaking on the stool,” he said. “Good,” Adrian said. “Then she will remember this conversation every time she tries to stand up.” Ronan pulled the pad into the middle of the island and clicked the pen. “Rules first. Then nights.” Lila’s laugh carried from the other room. I flinched. Adrian put his hand on my knee under the island and squeezed once, a warning and a comfort in the same grip. “Look at me,” he said. “Not the hallway. Me. You agreed upstairs. You say it again here so nobody gets to rewrite it later.” “I agreed.” “Louder.” “I am staying. I am not packing Sunday. You can have me. All of
Juniper. “Open it.” Adrian first. Then Cade’s voice right behind him. Then Ronan, quieter, already done waiting. I sat up with yesterday’s sweater still on and last night’s mess still dried on my thighs. Three knocks had not been a dream. I crossed the room on legs that did not want to work and turned the handle. They filled the doorway. Adrian had coffee he was not drinking. Cade’s hair was wet. Ronan looked like he had not slept. For one long second nobody moved. Then they all looked at me the same way at the same time, and the secret I had been carrying since Saturday morning cracked open in their faces. Cade laughed once, ugly. “You have to be fucking kidding me.” Adrian stepped in. “Inside. Now. All of you.” Ronan shut the door. Locked it. The click sounded too loud. I backed up until my calves hit the bed. “Say it,” Cade said. “I want to hear you admit it before I decide what I am going to do.” “You already know.” “Say it anyway.” My voice came out thin. “Adrian had
Ciara's POV "Baby, must you go to work today?" I pout at Simon as we stood facing each other in the center of the room. "Of course I have to, darling, and you know that," he says impatiently. "It wouldn't tell well of me to sit at home a day after my dad's birthday celebration." I bit my l
CAIN'S POV I walked toward Ciara, but Simon quickly intercepted, running his hands all over her body and inquiring if she'd be okay. I step back. I had greeted my dad earlier and my mother wasn't even there. I think I'm done with this party too. I head downstairs to the first floor—still crowd
CAIN POV From the distance where I'm sitting, I watch Ciara tug a stray red lock behind her ears— the same nervous habit she had seven years ago. Some things about her never changed, not even after marrying my brother. She forces a fake smile as she bends to greet the guests, offering me an e
CIARA'S POV I could tell it was my husband from the way he tilted his head and sharp blue eyes peeked out through the mask and stared intensely at me from across the crowded hall like he wanted to drag me into the nearest dark corner and fuck me against the wall until I forgot my own name. I







