I should have stayed in my room.
That is the last clear thought I have before my new stepfather’s hand closes around my throat and his oldest son’s c**k slaps against my cheek.
I’m nineteen. I moved into this house six hours ago. My mother married Grant last month and then left for a two-week work trip like it was nothing. She left me here with him and his twin sons — Jace and Cole, twenty-one, built like they were carved out of the same filthy thought.
I came downstairs for water.
I found Grant standing in the kitchen in nothing but sweatpants, pouring whiskey, looking at me like he’d already decided what I was for.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.
I shook my head. His eyes dropped to my tank top. No bra. The shorts I slept in were so small they barely covered anything.
“Come here, Sadi
