Sicko Read online

  Finally, my laughing subsides, and my eyes collide with his. He’s so close that I can feel the heat radiating off the tip of his nose.

  “What?” I ask, searching his eyes. “Why would you even say that?”

  The muscle in his jaw tenses. “Just promise me, Duchess.” His tone is soft, but his voice is cloaked in pain. Why does this matter to him so much?

  “Royce,” I snort, searching his face. From his soft tanned skin to his sharp-edged jawline. His skin is free from tattoos, but he always talks about getting ink. When he doesn’t smile, or smirk, or even look away from me, I shake my head. “I promise, but Roy, you don’t have to worry about that.” I widen my eyes at my invasive brother.

  “Oh really.” His blue eyes work their way down my neck to my breasts. He comes back to meet mine. “I beg to fucking differ.”

  “Royce…” I warn.

  “Jade,” he whispers, parroting my tone.

  “You don’t have to worry about that. Like at all.” I widen my eyes again, hoping he would catch what I’m meaning.

  “What, you don’t think I know that you’re a virgin?” Finally, the worry lines fade and a smirk creeps onto his mouth. “Baby, who the fuck do you think scares them off?” My smile drops, but before I can answer him, his weight is off me and he’s heading for the door. “Be ready in two hours and leave Sloane behind.” Yeah, he knows for sure that I won’t be leaving Sloane behind.

  He slams my door behind himself and I flip him off while flicking through my contacts list on my phone. I open a message to Sloane, but before I can type out the words, a text pops up.

  Royce: I mean it. Don’t invite her. I will throw her off the boat.

  I shake my head, rolling onto my belly while scrolling through my music playlist. I connect via Bluetooth to my sound dock, pushing play on “Sacrifice” by Jessie Reyez.

  Me: I need a friend with me.

  Royce: Since when have you ever needed a friend, and besides, you don’t need friends when you got big brothers. One hour and fifteen minutes.

  I toss my phone onto my bed and cuss under my breath. He’s right, but he also doesn’t understand girls. Especially girls like Sloane, who will lose her shit and see it as a complete betrayal in the trust factor.

  Moving across the room, I begin gathering everything that I will need. In short, I actually love going out on the boat, I would just rather go out when the sole purpose of it isn’t getting blackout drunk with idiots. Although, I did manage to get my phone back. I could just skip the boat trip and run out now…

  My door swings open, hitting the back of the wall in my room. Royce stands at the threshold, smirking. “Don’t even think about it.”

  Sighing, I swoop up my bikini. “Give me a few minutes.” Shutting the bathroom door behind myself, I slip into a pastel pink two-piece and shorts. I don’t bother with a shirt since my boobs aren’t exactly spilling out. Pulling open the last drawer under the counter, I take out my little white scarf and wrap it behind the back of my head, tying the rest of my long brown hair onto the top of my head.

  “Hurry up!” Royce bangs on my door, and I jump, flipping him off.

  “I’m coming!” Quickly grabbing a towel, I make my way into my room, swinging the bathroom door open. “Whose boat are we taking?”

  Royce’s eyes fall down my body. Other girls would blush from having the attention of Royce Kane, I don’t want it. Why? Because he’s only summing up what he doesn’t like. Bet he’s already decided that I need to wear a burlap sack. His lashes fan out over his high cheekbones as his eyes hit my feet before traveling back up to mine. “It gets cold on the water, you know that.”

  Scooping up a hoodie, I shove past him. “Fine.”

  Royce finally follows behind me as we make our way downstairs to the front door. We’re heading out when Mr. Kane comes out from the kitchen.

  “You kids taking out Green Stone?” Mr. Kane asks both of us, but his eyes remain on Royce. Green Stone is the name of Royce’s gloss black and jade green Nautique G25 aka, his baby.

  Mr. Kane’s eyes meet mine, blue ocean flecks so deep they could swallow me whole. For the most part, I don’t have much of a relationship with Mr. Kane, and when it’s just he and I, the atmosphere is somewhat tense. Either he didn’t want to adopt me, or maybe I simply wasn’t what he wanted.

  “Yeah, it’s been a minute.” Royce nudges Dad with his other shoulder. “Wanna come? Or are you getting too old for the board?”

  Dad shoves him back, chuckling while tensing his bulging arm muscles. “I can bench press you, Orson, and that little shit Storm.” His eyes come back to mine. “Throw Jade on there too.”

  Royce chuckles, his hand grabbing mine. He slides me behind him. “Nah, Jade might fall and hurt this pretty little head.”

  Dad laughs, disappearing back into the kitchen while we head to the ten-car garage. The sun pelts down over my skin, not a cloud in the sky to interrupt it as Royce flicks open the power box to open the garage door. From what I’ve been told, this home has been in the Kane family for a few generations, only added to and modified on its way through the years. The garage was Dad and Mom’s addition. They needed it when Royce found he loved all things fast, including cars and boats, and what Royce wants, Royce gets. Of course, that included me too. When I was ready, I could take my pick on what car I wanted, but it never felt right, so I dragged my feet with it. Mom has said I’ll be taking the BMW, whether I want it or not.

  Royce tosses his keys into the Ford Raptor and I jump up to the passenger side, shutting the door behind me.

  Pulling out my cell, I flicked off a message to Sloane, who was more than likely going to be really pissed at me for not bringing her with me, but Sloane is friends with everyone. She’ll busy herself with something else tonight.

  I’ve been dragged into going out on the boat. Sorry! See you later?

  Leaning to turn the key over in the ignition, I flick through my playlist as Royce jacks the boat up. Fifteen minutes later, Orson and Storm are slipping into the back and we’re on our way. I hit play on Tech N9ne, needing his aggressive tone to mellow out my thoughts. Cranking down my window and kicking my feet onto the dash, Orson hands me a wine cooler from the back.

  I shake my head. “What is that? Purple Jack Daniels?”

  Orson pops off the lid and takes a swig. “Yeah, pretty sure you’d like it.”

  Royce squeezes my leg from the driver’s seat, and I watch as the sun catches behind his head. He has his ball cap flipped backward, his lips glistening from his tongue being pressed to the top only minutes ago. His two dimples distract me for a split second as we pull into the harbor where a few people are gathered from school. Royce, Orson, and Storm rule over the school like gods, but they’re different. They’re not assholes, or entitled, or even a little bit snobbish. You would expect them to be. Orson is the son of Larken, who is number four on Forbes Billionaires, and that’s shortly followed by Bessen, Storm’s mother who is snug at number ten, and then Royce, or I should say Royce and me, whose father is number two. You would expect them to be this way. Assholes who carelessly treat everyone like shit, but they don’t. They take care of Stone View High as if it’s their home. They are all good people.

  All of them.

  I slip out of the pickup just in time for Orson to toss me over one shoulder, slamming my door closed behind us.

  “Put me down!” I bang on his muscled back, but it’s no use. Everyone is well accustomed to seeing me be manhandled by my three brothers, that no one even so much as bats an eye. The girls who do notice are the ones who hover with envy. Every girl wanted these boys, and at times they lucked out. Especially with Royce and his rogue dick, but they never last. They never stayed, and they never got a second ride.

  “Sin, put me down, please! I did what Royce wanted! I came!”

  I can feel Orson’s shoulders shaking beneath my weight. “I know, but you see, we have a teeny problem…”

  “And what’s that?” I ask, though my e
yes are swinging all over the place to take in who is all here. I can see a lot of people sticking to their crews, with almost everyone already parked up in the water. The bay had rafts stretching out long, with boats upon boats parked in every spot. Music was pouring out of them, with sounds of glass bottles clinking and laughter. The coast guard hated all of us, and depending on who was on duty, they usually just leave us alone.

  “Well, we have to make sure everyone here knows that you’re spoken for.”

  I roll my eyes. I always got stuck coming out. Although I wasn’t old enough to get my boat license yet, I know how to operate one and I never drink, so it’s convenient for all three of them to have me here. Usually, Sloane would cash in on it too.

  “Duchess!” Royce calls out, whistling.

  I tap at Orson’s back again and he finally—fucking finally—places my feet back to solid ground. “What?”

  Royce grins at me from over his arm as he continues to reverse the boat into the water from the ramp. “Might need you to hop on and scream some orders.” People don’t even breathe at Royce’s banter, but I roll my eyes and slip off my flip-flops, tossing all of my things into the back of the boat. I move through the water and fling myself up inside from the little ladder at the end. Royce continues to back up into the water until I stop him. He busies himself with unlatching the boat from his vehicle when Orson, Storm, and a couple of other girls climb onto the boat.

  I grind my teeth, swinging my bag under the hood of the boat where there’s a bed, a small kitchen, and a bathroom. Royce jumps on last, throwing his shirt at my face.

  “Smile, Dutch.” He leans forward, pressing the cushion of his thumb against my bottom lip. “Wouldn’t want this pretty little face to stay like that.”

  “Royce!” Annette Bird, aka Royce’s current plaything, waves him over to the front seat where her, Bianca, and Natasha Daniels are perched, bikinis tied and bodies oiled.

  I run my tongue over my teeth. “You know, I really wish I just stayed home.” And maybe text played with Robbie. I would have preferred that than sit here and watch all three of these boys play with their latest Barbie dolls.

  “Aww.” Royce ruffles my hair. “You gonna act like you don’t want to go out on the board?” I couldn’t even fight my smile. He gestures over to the neon green wakeboard. “Saddle up.”

  I dance over to the back of the boat and latch myself on to it. I’m strapped in, Royce has Cypress Hill “Rockstar” pounding through the speakers and we’re almost at our favorite spot (which is pretty much in the ass crack middle of Ocean Tavern), I throw up the hang loose sign and toss myself backward. The water cracks from beneath my weight and I feel the rush from nature sink through my fingertips, pumping into my veins. I’ve always been an outdoor girl. Never the girly girl, so I guess in a sense, Royce did sort of get the brother that he wanted in me. At least for now. It’s wearing off with age. I still don’t like pink.

  I resurface to the top with a smile on my lips, swiping my long brown hair out of my face.

  “You little fucking shit!” Royce yells, flipping me off from the boat.

  “What’d I do? I always go off like that!”

  He waves me off, his mouth in a flat line. Tense bastard. He gets grumpy when we’re about to shred, well, especially when I’m about to go shredding. I gaze around us to see another four or five boats parked up, with others climbing off, swimming, drinking, and chilling. This is our usual convey. Instead of cars, we all take the boats out. It’s like an extracurricular activity for the rich and bored.

  “Duchess.” Orson blows me a kiss while tossing the handle into the water. “Try not to break a bone this time?”

  “Stop jinxing her!” Storm shoves at Orson, leaving his shirt unbuttoned but keeping it secured. Storm never goes without a shirt. He doesn’t talk about it and Royce said I’m never to ask, but he always wears a shirt. Even in the water. Even shredding.

  I take the handle and throw up hang loose again, my tongue sticking out at Royce.

  “Because you look extra mischievous today, I’m going to go slow!” he yells, the boat slowly pulling away from me. I feel the tug on the rope and chuckle.

  “Oh yeah? I’ll remember that when it’s your turn!”

  “Why can’t you be like all the other girls and sit up on my shit and look all pretty, huh?” Royce throws me a smirk. I can’t answer him now because he’s too far away. He’s right. I am the only girl who shreds with the guys, but it’s their fault. They created the monster and then asked why I bite. The boat kicks up speed and I’m up, the board skating over the water like butter. Once he picks up more speed, I twist to do a few surface tricks, a relaxed smile on my face. I love being out on the water. The reason why I didn’t want to come today wasn’t because I didn’t want to go out on the board, but because I didn’t want to deal with the partying that happens afterward at Orson’s cave.

  Yes, his actual cave.

  Royce turns the boat fast and I kick up, landing a Big Worm. We spend another twenty or so minutes while I do all of my tricks and exude my energy, before I’m being pulled back into the boat with a frown on my face.

  Orson picks me up from under my arms. “Stop being sad, girl. You know damn well you get more time than any of us.”

  “This is true.” I chuckle, unzipping my life jacket and leaving me in my two-piece. I dry out my hair with a towel, just as Royce hands me a bottle of water.

  “You good?”

  Annette comes up behind him, wrapping her skinny arms around his stomach.

  “Yup.” I nod, heading to the front to sunbathe on the hood. The rest of the day burns away as they all take turns on the board while Storm throws out his fishing line. The sun is sinking behind the clouds in the sky when Royce finally cracks open his first drink.

  I know that I shouldn’t, but I’m jealous. This once. Sure, I’ve never actually been drunk before, and sure, Royce would never allow me to have too much alcohol, but a girl can dream, right?

  I make my way to the front of the boat and we lead the convoy toward Mount Aetos. Orson’s last name is Aetos, so yes, Orson’s mountain. It’s just a plain old island in the middle of the ocean, where his parents own a billion-dollar mansion built on top of boulders. Because Orson’s home is where you have to get to by boat, he usually crashes at Royce’s—hence the basketball court. The cave curves off of the island in an arch before you arrive right on the white sand beach. The water is still, motionless, and the sand is infinitesimal enough to sink between your toes.

  We anchor up just as the sun has set in the sky. Storm pulls out his archery set, lighting the tip of the stick and aiming it to the pile of bush wood on the shore. He releases his finger and the bonfire explodes in a surge of flames.

  Everyone at school knows about the weekend hangout spot and who attends. It’s exclusive, but that’s not because people aren’t invited, it’s only because not everyone has a boat and you can only fit so many on one. When Orson brings his dad’s out, then that’s a whole different story. The multi-million-dollar power yacht named Vegas is exactly what its name implies. It’s a whole party on a yacht themed and painted in Sin City. Orson’s father is the Greek to his American mother who is no longer with us. Since his mom’s passing, his father hardly ever occupies this house, leaving Orson alone.

  Clutching my flip-flops and hoodie, I slip into the water and make my way to shore, needing to be as far away from Royce as possible while he has Annette all over him. I can’t deal with it, but I don’t know why. I don’t know why my stomach convulses every time she puts her hand on him, because he doesn’t put his on her. The PDA is always her, not him. I don’t even know why I’m thinking about that.

  “Hey!” A girl with long curled hair and a couple of piercings in her face waves me over. She’s in cut-offs, a plaid shirt, and are those Doc Martens? I love Docs, but near the water?

  “Hi!” I make my way to where she’s seated alone, smoking a cigarette. She’s gorgeous, that much is obvious, but I’
ve never seen her here before. Ever, actually. Not even at school.

  “Are you new?” I ask, taking a seat on one of the stumps that are surrounding the raging fire. It crackles in the background, warming the side of my cheek.

  She nods her head, raising the bottle of champagne. “Sure am, and I gotta say…” She looks around, pausing every couple of seconds. “There’s not a girl that I see here that I would want to be friends with.”

  I chuckle, shoving my arms into the sleeves of my Calvin Klein hoodie and zipping it up. I’m glad I slid into my black short shorts earlier, but now I wished I had brought some skinny jeans. I usually head up to the main house when things get rowdy down here—by Royce’s orders—so I rest in the fact that I won’t have to freeze my tits off for too long. “They’re not all that bad.”

  “Sure they are…” the girl says, flicking off the ash on the tip of her smoke. She sticks her hand out in front of herself. “I’m India, you’re?” she asks, and I look from her face to her hand. I’m not one to make friends. That’s not because I don’t want to, that’s because no one wants to make friends with me. Never understood why, and by the time Sloane figured out I was a weird one, it was too late, we were already friends.

  I take India’s hand in mine. “Love the name. People say I look part Indian. I’ve been told that all of my life, so now I sort of tell people that I have a grandparent who is from India. Makes me feel badass.”

  India laughs, her head falling back before her eyes come to mine. “Yeah, I sort of see it. You have the tanned skin, dark hair, and—” She leans closer to me until the tips of our noses touch. “What color are your eyes?”

  I inch back a little, somewhat thrown off by her intrusion in my bubble. “Ah, green. My name’s Jade.”

  “Wow! That’s a cool name!”

  “Well, we can swap.” My hands dive into the pockets of my hoodie, my eyes going to the flame. Music spills out loudly from behind me and I don’t have to turn my head to know what’s going on. The Tiki bar will be in full swing, the fairy lights will be switched on, and the graffiti that Royce sprayed over the rocky mountain wall will be on full display for everyone to admire. My eyes fly up to the art, all shades of the color green. Lime, forest, ocean, turquoise, jade. The numbers 2000 tagged in graffiti font. The year I was born and adopted into the Kane family. I don’t think anyone else notices the significance of it except for Orson and Storm. Every time I see it, my heart skips multiple beats. There’s never been a shadow of a doubt of what I mean to Royce and I him. Love is love, but when it’s unconditional, it’s for life.