CHAPTER 90
WINTER
“Damn, I was looking forward to a swim,” he said, his voice dripping with mock disappointment. Then he looked back at his buddies, a cruel gleam in his eyes. “But it looks like someone already took a shit in the pool.”
I turned to Shane, my voice dripping with venom. "Go fuck yourself," I spat, the words sharp and unforgiving, my anger finally breaking through.
A round of chuckles echoed across the patio, the sound bouncing off the walls of the screened-in pool.
“I’d rather fuck you,” Shane said with a malicious grin, leaning in closer to the water’s edge. His eyes locked onto me, amusement dancing in them. “Hey, Royal, your sister sure knows how to talk dirty. Maybe I should be the one to clean that up for her.” His voice was thick with arrogance, his words dripping with intent as he taunted me.
Before I could respond, Zion appeared beside Shane.
His eyes cut sharply to him, a glare so intense it could have frozen the smirk right off his face. Instead, Shane raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin only widening as if he found the whole situation amusing.
Then Zion’s gaze flicked to me, lingering just long enough to make my skin prickle. His expression hardened, his disdain so palpable it felt like my very presence was an offence.
Without a word, he snatched a beer from Ronald, who had just brought out the drinks. The metallic pop of the can opening seemed unnaturally loud, cutting through the thick tension in the air. Zion took a long sip, his movements unnervingly slow and deliberate, almost too calm. But as he lowered the can, his piercing blue eyes locked onto mine again, their intensity impossible to ignore.
A low scoff escaped his lips, his irritation practically radiating off him.
"Why the fuck are you here?" His tone was dripping with disdain.
"I live here, remember" I shot back, pushing myself slowly to the opposite end of the pool, the temperature-controlled water starting to feel cold against my skin.
"How could I forget? Your fucking shit is everywhere," Zion sneered, taking a slow, deliberate swig of his drink. His words were razor-sharp, his gaze cutting into me with a pointed edge that felt almost personal.
"What I want to know," he snapped, his voice low and biting, "is why the fuck you're out here in the pool, acting like you have any right to be."
"I live here, so—"
“Shut the fuck up! Just because you live in this house doesn’t change the fact—you’re still nothing but trailer trash. An unwanted guest”
The other guys exchanged uncomfortable glances, some wincing at his words.
Not all of them were complete assholes.
Shane, though, leaned into the insult with a leer, eyes dragging over me like I was some shiny new toy.
"I don’t know, man," Shane said, still watching me.
"She’s looking kind of hot from where I’m standing. Guess I’ve been searching in the wrong places if all the trailer trash looks like that," he drawled, his voice dripping with mockery.
He raised his beer with a slow smirk, the kind that oozed arrogance and entitlement.
"Why don’t you come join us, babe? Have a drink. Who knows, maybe I can show you a good time, make you feel a little... wanted."
A wave of disgust twisted in my stomach, but my attention snagged on the flicker of something in Zion’s eyes—a flash of something dark and possessive as his gaze darted to Shane.
His jaw tightened, the muscles ticking with barely restrained tension, and his fingers curled around the bottle with enough force to turn his knuckles white. Yet, he remained silent, the tension in the air speaking louder than any words could.
Shane, oblivious to the tension, continued smirking at me. “What do you say?”
I glared back at him, my voice laced with ice. “I’d rather drink my piss.”
Zion strutted to the side of the pool, his steps slow and deliberate as he walked along the edge, like a predator circling its prey. I swallowed hard, craning my neck up to glare at him, refusing to let the fear crawl through my show.
My stepbrother was a righteous, arrogant ass, and I wasn’t about to let him intimidate me.
“What?” I snapped, my fingers brushing the edge of the pool not far from his feet. The cold water was starting to sink into my bones, but I fought against the urge to shiver, clenching my teeth so they wouldn’t chatter.
Zion’s face twisted into something dark and furious, his gaze locked onto me with murderous intent.
“This is a private party, so get the fuck out of my pool, and leave!” he growled, his chest rising and falling with barely contained rage.
Clark stepped in, placing a hand on Zion’s chest to hold him back as his breath grew heavier. “Z Relax. No need to be an asshole. We’re here to drink, not fight.”
Ronald, standing on the other side of Zion, popped the tab on his beer with a loud hiss.
“Yeah, Z, chill, let her be.”
“I didn’t ask you, Ro,” Zion snapped, his eyes never leaving mine, filled with a volatile intensity. He wasn’t interested in what anyone else had to say; he was focused solely on me.
Clark, shaking his head at the tension, turned toward me, extending a hand.
“Come on Winter, just get out. He’s pissed because of the apple, and we had a shit practice today. He’ll cool off after he downs a few more drinks.”
I stared at his hand, every instinct screaming at me not to take it.
These guys weren’t here to help me.
They were Zion’s backup, his loyal crew, always ready to back him up in his schemes.
And I needed to get out of the pool, and fast.
Ignoring Clark’s outstretched hand, I pushed myself up and over the edge, my body tense and wary as I stood. My eyes flicked warily between Zion and his friends, my heart still pounding in my chest.
One of them gave a low whistle as they took in the sight of me in my bathing suit, and I felt a wave of revulsion roll through me. For the first time, I was grateful for my decision to wear a one-piece tonight. Without hesitating, I flipped them all off and reached for the towel draped over a chair, but I was too slow.
An arm shot out, swift and unyielding, wrapping around my waist and yanking me back into a solid chest.
Shane’s hot breath hit my ear as he leaned in close.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he whispered, his voice low and slimy.
“I’m not done with you yet.”
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