Free Mind F*ck by Kimber S. Dawn

shouts.
    “Travis. Calm down. First of all, you offered me your wife. What’s the difference between that and your sister? You’re not with your sister, nor will you ever be. So, pardon my confusion. Is it because of Lexy?” I demand to know his reasoning. Because as of right now, I see none.
    “No. It’s because, she’s my sister . MY flesh and blood. You don’t do shit like that here. Jesus.” He sighs on the other end.
    “Okay, okay.” I concede. And why not? She’s a riddle I won’t rhyme. I, I have chased after Summer for how long? Months. Circling her building’s block? This is a wake up call—and I’ll take it as such. “Accept my apology. It won’t happen again. Travis, I’m sorry.”
    “No, you’re right, it won’t. And the fact that it has, will cost you, brother. Nothing too much, though. It isn’t like I’ll tattle to my father and spoil your entire career. No. At least, not yet. It will cost you something simple…harmless, even.” He’s quiet for few beats and then his dark voice comes back over the line, “A sampling your wife.” The silence after his statement is deafening. And ever-fucking-lasting.
    It very well could have been one minute of silence, or thirty, I have no recollection of time or sequence.
    I only know it takes forever for me to form the words and speak them. “Excuse me?” Sweat beads across my brow and my hackles rise. “Ex-fucking-cuse me, motherfucker?” I unbutton the buttons at my neck and begin loosening my tie.
    “After the birth of your child, of course. If, and that is an extremely loud if, if your wife’s body is even half as decadent as it appears to be now, or the last time I saw her. I will have her after the delivery of your child. And if you’ve kept up your end of the deal, which is keeping your dick out of my sister, I won’t tell my pops at your one year evaluation that you’ve been fucking his princess. I won’t have a single bad word to speak against you as he names you the third in his legacy, directly behind first me, then my loving, endearing little sister. Capisce?”
    I don’t believe I’ve ever been so stuck. I was cornered. Pissed. Stubborn. And cornered.
    “I’ll talk to you about this later,” I growled, preparing to hang up.
    But his words stopped me. “You can’t talk shit like that to an escort and expect her not to talk. You can’t just shit on absolutely everyone , Liam, and expect to continue to get away with not smelling like shit. Someone, somewhere along the line who is bigger than you— and badder than you— will come along and take what you hold so dear. And they’ll fuck it up and make it ugly. Just so you won’t have it anymore. The sooner you realize that, Liam, the better. Have a great afternoon off with your wife. I do hope she tastes as good as I’m sure she’ll look. I think more often of her than I’ll further admit. Good day, brother.”
    And the line goes dead. As if what I say doesn’t matter. As if I’m being excused.
    Rage, potent and untapped, flares inside me.
    Fuck it.
    I pull the silver vial from my breast pocket and inhale it’s contents. After, I finger the button, sliding the visor between me and the driver down. “Drake, has my wife called?” I ask while pouring a glass of scotch and tucking the bottle back in the bin. I don’t like drinking this early, but due to my current circumstances, I’ll set my moral squabbles aside.
    “Yes, sir. Twice while you were on the phone with Mr. Travis. Would you like me to reconnect you?”
    I notice we’re not on our way to the house and confusion and irritation mix with the coke in my veins and the whiskey in my gut. “Where the hell are we at? Drake, Lexy’s appointment is in forty-five minutes. We still have to go by the house—“
    “No, sir.” His booming voice interrupts my ranting. “She’s heading to the hospital. Mary found her bleeding in the bathtub an hour ago. She called 9-1-1. But Charles, Mary’s husband, said the