A Pound of Flesh (A Pound of Flesh #1)(133)

“Kat,” Carter whimpered, placing his forehead against hers.

“I never wanted him.”

“Peaches.”

“Carter, listen to me,” she urged, taking his hands. “I liked him; he was charming.” Carter made to pull away, but Kat held firm. “And yes, we kissed. But do you know why we didn’t do more? Why I couldn’t do more? Why every time he asked me out, I avoided giving him an answer?”

Carter stared at the floor.

“Ask me why.”

A soft groan rumbled in his throat. “Why?”

“Because every time I was with him, every single time he touched me, I thought of you.”

Carter’s eyes were desperate to believe her, but something in the way his mouth twitched and his eyebrow lifted told her he was doubtful.

“It’s the truth,” she added. “I promise you. I wanted you, too. For so long. I still want you so much. I …”

“What?”

“I’m so sorry that he upset you and made you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” he admonished. “I couldn’t. It’s him I hate. I hate what he stands for—his greed, his pretentious arrogance, and the fact that since we were kids, he’s wanted things of mine he has no f*cking right to want.”

The double meaning in his words wrapped around Kat’s lungs. Mine.

Quietly, Carter told her what had happened at the meeting, detailing Austin’s intentions to remove Carter from the company he legally owned.

“Austin and I never got along,” he explained. “Adam and I are closer in age so, when we ever did see each other as kids, we’d play together. Austin was the firstborn of our generation, the one to take over the company from our grandfather. He was groomed for it and became cocky and arrogant. Even at the age of fifteen he was a smart-mouthed prick.

“I remember one particular day,” he continued, “when my mom had taken me from my dad for the weekend; we were at my grandparents’ house, which was a f*cking nightmare anyway because my grandfather couldn’t stand the sight of me.”

Carter shook his head.

“My grandmother was completely different. She was cool. She would bake cookies and buy me awesome presents for Christmas and birthdays. She was the reason why we spent so much time at their house. My mom would dump me there, and my grandmother and I would hang out.” Carter scratched his head. “I think it was Thanksgiving. Austin started the minute he arrived. He was a smart motherf*cker. He was never obvious with his little comments about how I wasn’t wanted, how he’d heard from my aunt that I was a disappointment to the whole family. He was relentless. Adam just stood there, not saying a word. When it was just the two of us, he’d apologize for his brother, but never in front of him.”

Carter smiled wryly. “Nothing f*cking changes. The little comments about my father, and the fact that I was more or less a dirty little secret, went on for the whole weekend. And eventually I snapped. I punched him in the face. He hit the floor, but I couldn’t stop. I punched, smacked, kicked at him, and the whole time, all I could think was that I wanted him to hurt just as much as I did. My grandfather pulled me off him, and he got a couple of slaps for his troubles. Until he slapped me back. He said I should have been given away, and that I would do nothing but bring shame on the family. Just like I had done since the day I was conceived.”

“Oh, Carter,” Kat whispered, placing her hand on his neck.

“My grandmother went bat-shit crazy.” Carter laughed lightly. “I think I get my temper from her.” Kat smiled. “She took me from him and we went to her beach house.” He paused, lost in the memory. “She cried. I remember, she cried and apologized. I didn’t know why she was apologizing. She hadn’t done anything wrong.” Carter looked down at his hands and shook his head. “I hated seeing her cry.”