Alpha Twins' Forbidden Obsession

enerous. It was little more than a worn blank

. I didn't dare stretch out; the slanted wall was too close, a

that reminded me of Harry Potter, though there was no magic h

y mother, Alice, had decided there was work in T

n warmed by sunlight and my grandmother's love. I could almost feel the humid ai

had vanished before I could form a memory of him, and my m

ally place me in Alice's custod

Alice and I were strangers bound

shut, forcing my

row. Get through until you're

was a famil

h the silence of the small house. "Sy

. It was Robert, A

thick with drink. This

de my skin crawl, but he usually kept his distance. Alcohol stripped away

s grew louder, moving from the

he would stagger past, tha

te was not

side. Robert's hulking frame blocked the dim light from the h

slurred, his v

weight crushing the air from my lungs. The sme

flying up to push against hi

ight, aren't we?" he chuckled, one of his rough ha

isted violently, my mind screaming. This was wrong. T

ht, and with a sickening thud, his head stru

tly, his full weigh

mering against my ribs like a trapped bird. T

situation seeped in. He w

ved his dead weight off me. I crawled out from un

Alice found him in my space, th

runting with the effort, I dragged him across the rough carpet, his boots scraping a trail behind us. I man

leaned over the sink, my knuckles white as I gripped the coo

rightened eyes of two different colors-one a wa

nease, as if I were some kind of freak. But my grandmother's voice, soft and sure, would always echo in

othing in me. He was a ghost, a ge

re, against my pale skin, was an angry red mark, a brutal souvenir f

tears for tonight, but for all of it-for the loss of my grandmother, for

ilent, des

e days until my eighteenth birthday. By then, I would run. I would fi

and gray, filtered thr

urled on the cold tile floor, jumping at

arp shock that barely cut through my exhaustion. The red mark on my collarbone ha

nd in the kitchen, the clatter of a coffee pot. I

ed cardboard boxes. Robert was snoring

eyes and permanent frown lines,

"We need to be on the road in two hours. Start packing your

couch, my skin crawling as I edg

rdboard box. I didn't have much: a few clothes, a worn copy of To Kill a Mockingbi

oaned and sat up on the couch, clutchin

atly, placing a cup of black coffee on the

eyes scanned the ro

ere the high collar of my shirt hid his mark. A nasty smile played on his li

ber anything. Then I quickly looked

loading a rusty U-Haul trailer hit

ially irritable. I worked silently, carrying what I

ith all my worldly possessions on the floor beside me. Alice took the passenge

ook at the small, dilapidated house. It had been a prison, bu