Priceless (Forbidden Men #8)(3)

Unconsciousness claimed me within moments.

It was a good sleep too. I wasn’t roused by coughing from Colton next to me or the squeak of Caroline’s bedsprings above me. It was just quiet.

Nice.

Peaceful.

My dreams turned toward pleasant things. Since I was waking up with morning wood pretty much every day now, a hazy vision of Jamey Hester, who sat next to me in English class, sprang up in my head. In real life, she wouldn’t give a trashy Gamble like me the time of day. I was too poor, cussed too much, got into too many fights. What the f*ck ever. But in my dream, she liked me just fine.

Her hand wrapped around my junk, right through my boxers, and I gasped from the pleasure, arching my back off the bed. Fingers squeezed appreciatively and pumped, making my balls tingle in a way that let me know I was seconds away from coming.

“Damn, baby. You sure are a big one, aren’t you?” Jamey cooed, except she didn’t really sound like Jamey. She sounded more like—

My eyes flew open.

Daisy loomed above me, looking down at me until all her hair flooded around her face. The blanket no longer covered me, and her hand was...Jesus.

“What the f*ck?” I lurched up and scrambled away from her, dislodging her grip on me with my haste.

When my back met the corner of the wall, I sucked in a breath and shook my head, unable to stop gaping at the woman who’d given birth to me. My shin ached from smacking it into her bed earlier, letting me know I was definitely no longer dreaming, and my mother was honest-to-God kneeling right there on the bed in front of me.

Still. No way had she just been giving me a hand job. That part must’ve been in my dream. It had to have been. I shook my head again, trying to wake fully.

“What’re you doing here?” I asked without thinking.

She let out a husky laugh. “Honey, this is my bed. You’re the interloper.” Then propping herself on her hands and knees, she began to crawl toward me. “But I don’t mind if you stay.”

“Holy shit,” I squawked, digging my back deeper into the wall.

It wasn’t quite morning, but the sun was beginning to rise outside the window. It let in just enough gray light to let me see how bloodshot her eyes were. The woman was probably high as a kite, doped up with who knew what mix of drugs.

“Do you know who I am?” I had to ask because, hell, even as f*cked up as she was, she had to know this was wrong. Right?

“Colton, right?” she asked as she paused before me and snapped her finger. “No, you’re Brandt. Brandt...” she cooed, reaching out to trace a finger over my erection through my shorts.

I shoved her away, and she slapped me. Hard.

The instant sting made my eyes water as she pointed a finger at my nose.

“Don’t you shove me, you little *. I brought you into this world. I can take you right back out. You hear me?”

Gulping, I nodded uneasily.

She smiled as if everything was good again. Licking the corner of my lip, I tasted blood and glanced toward the door, wondering how easy it’d be to slip past her and make a run for it.

But she murmured, “Now where were we?”

I jumped when she grabbed me again, which only made her laugh and press against me harder.

Gritting my teeth, I clenched my hands down at my side and tipped my head up toward the ceiling as I squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to feel what I was feeling. But no one had ever touched me there before. The contact made my boner grow harder as all the while, the sick unease in my stomach grew queasier. I swallowed repeatedly to keep from vomiting as an unnatural chill swept through my limbs, making me tremble uncontrollably.

I didn’t try pushing her away again; this fear that she’d call the cops and I’d get thrown in juvie for physical abuse rose in my head, freezing me from swinging.

I wanted Noel.

Or Caroline. She was right down the hall. I could yell for her, and she’d fly out of bed to rescue me. But then what? What if Caroline called someone for help, and Social Services split the three of us apart? I wasn’t about to lose Colton and Caroline. They were the only two people I had right now.

“How old are you now, Brandt?” Daisy asked as she used all five fingers to grip me tight.

Tears tracked down my cheeks. I shook my head, denying the reality of what she was doing. I hated how good it felt. Hated how scared I was. I just wanted to redo last night and wake next to a snot-nosed Colton instead of this.

“Well, you sure are big for however old you are,” she murmured, watching herself fondle me. “Your daddy was the biggest I ever had, did you know that?”

Why the hell would I know that? A kid should never know something like that. Besides, this had to be the first time Daisy had ever spoken to me.

She’d talked about me to either Noel or Caroline over the years, demanding they shut me up if I was crying or telling them to take me somewhere else if she wanted me out of sight. I honestly couldn’t remember a time when she’d directed a single word to me.

To me, Noel and Caroline were my parent figures, so Daisy didn’t feel like my mother at all. Too bad that didn’t make her touch any less creepy. I was so freaking skeeved out I was shaking erratically. Paralyzed with fear.

“I actually remember who your daddy was because he was hung so well,” she went on as if she had no idea I was freaking the f*ck out. “I couldn’t tell you who fathered any of the other brats. But you. Yeah, you definitely have to be Derick’s boy. Hey...what’re you crying for?”