Page 41 of Real (Real 1)

“Well, if it isn’t the little whore.” He flings the words like stones at me, then glances derisively past my shoulder. “Where’s Riptide? Hiding under your skirt again?”

Impotent anger rages through me, making my throat curl tightly around my words. “He had better things to do.”

He narrowly eyes me, then Melanie and Riley. “Only you,” he says, jabbing a finger in the air in my direction, “can pass.”

I start passing, but he blocks me with an arm, and a red flush slowly creeps up his demeanor as if in eager anticipation. “You have to kiss the scorpion first.” Eyes glimmering meanly, he taps the icky black scorpion on his cheek, and his teeth flash, his entire mouth covered with a grill of diamonds.

My organs halt in pure shock and horror at his request, and I clench my lips in response as my gaze jumps past his shoulders, across the little restaurant, to the corner table where Nora sits. I meet my sister’s honeyed gaze and despair runs through me at the blank look in her eyes.

How can I let her do this to herself? I can’t.

I just.

Can’t.

Scorpion wants his fun and wants to demean me. He wants to show me he has the power today. But he can’t demean me if I don’t allow him to see how much his request revolts me.

Wildly trying to convince myself that it means nothing, I take a deceptively steady step forward. But my entire body begins to tense at what I’m about to do, and an awful flush of embarrassment burns fast across my skin.

“Brooke,” Riley says in a warning that also sounds like a plea.

But it’s either kiss a stupid tattoo, or sacrifice Nora to this man, or risk involving Remington to tangle with these losers, and I just can’t do any of that, either.

The awful man’s gaze feels like a snake slithering upon me as he watches me approach, but all I can concentrate on is my sister at the table behind him. I draw a deep breath, forbidding myself to tremble.

As I take the last step, suddenly his request seems as impossible as him asking me to climb Mount Everest and dig a hole to the bottom. My stomach roils in protest, and I’m dangerously close to vomiting at the sight of the black crawling insect up close.

He smells of fish and pure mean ass**le.

And I wish I had the guts to try to kick the shit out of him.

Suddenly a vivid reminder of a show my dad used to watch called Fear Factor strikes me, where people do all kinds of gross things, and get in boxes with live snakes and scorpions, as well. If people can do that for money, I can certainly do this for my sister.

Shoving my pride aside and seizing onto my determination, I force my lips to pucker so hard, they feel like rocks as I press up on my tiptoes. Nausea roils up my chest before I even make contact.

“Look at this, Remy’s f**king whore is kissing the Scorpion.” His goonies spit the words out contemptuously, and the humiliation the words bring makes me want to run and hide with a force I haven’t felt in years. Revolted at myself, I quickly smack the air and drop back on my heels. “There. All done now,” I say, loathing that my voice shakes.

His laughter is deep, dark, and awful as he turns to his goons. “Did she kiss me? Did Riptide’s bitch actually kiss the Scorpion? I don’t think so.” His beady green-yellow eyes slither back to me, and coupled with that glare, I’m not feeling very powerful at the moment. “I didn’t feel your kiss. Now you’re going to have to lick it.” He beams his diamond grill at me again.

My eyes widen in horror, and my determination to see my sister falters woefully at the thought of licking any part of this man. Omigod, I want to run so bad from here, my veins already feel dilated as the blood pumps into my muscles, priming me to flee. Flee to the car, back to my Remy.

Riley grabs me, his face a mask of concern.

“Brooke,” he says in warning, and that snaps me back to what I’m here for and I quickly squirm free, once again facing Scorpion.

How can I leave? How will I otherwise get to talk to Nora about this shit she’s in? Just the thought of her in this Human Worm’s grasp disgusts me. How can I see her with this type of pervert and not do something to help her? Swallowing back the painful dryness in my throat, I tip my face back with false bravado, desperate to do anything except lick that grossness on that man’s disgusting cheek. “I’ll kiss it, you have my word.”

Fear Factor.

You can do this for Nora.

If you could do the hundred meters in 10.52 seconds, then you can kiss this sucker’s stupid skin mascot!

“At least I keep them from knowing the truth!” she snaps out, and this is the first spark of life I actually see in her gold eyes.

“But why would you do this to them? Why would you drop out of college for this?”

“Because I’m sick and tired of them comparing me to you.” She glares, then starts making a mocking voice that resembles our mother when she whines. “‘Why don’t you do this like Brooke?’ ‘Why don’t you find something meaningful to do with your life like Brooke?’ They just want me to be like you! And I don’t want to. What’s the point? You missed all the fun growing up so you could be this hotshot gold medalist and now you’re not only not an Olympic medalist, you can’t even sprint anymore.”

“I may not sprint anymore but I can still kick your ass right now,” I angrily lash, hurt beyond words at what she’s telling me.

“So what?” she continues. “You were the best track athlete in college. Everyone couldn’t stop talking about how talented you were and how you were going to make it. That’s all you did and talked about, and now look at you! You can’t even do what you loved and will probably end up like mom and dad, living in the past, with your stupid old gold medals still hanging in your bedroom!”