Sick little devotion a f.., p.1
Sick Little Devotion: A Forbidden Dark Romance (Love So Cruel Book 2), page 1
SICK LITTLE DEVOTION
LOVE SO CRUEL BOOK 2
TERESA WOLF
Copyright © 2024 by Teresa Wolf
All rights reserved.
Sick Little Devotion
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Contents
1. Chapter One
SAHARA
2. Chapter Two
AIDEN
3. Chapter Three
SAHARA
4. Chapter Four
AIDEN
5. Chapter Five
SAHARA
6. Chapter Six
AIDEN
7. Chapter Seven
SAHARA
8. Chapter Eight
AIDEN
9. Chapter Nine
SAHARA
10. Chapter Ten
AIDEN
11. Chapter Eleven
SAHARA
12. Chapter Twelve
SAHARA
13. Chapter Thirteen
AIDEN
14. Chapter Fourteen
SAHARA
15. Chapter Fifteen
SAHARA
16. Chapter Sixteen
AIDEN
17. Chapter Seventeen
SAHARA
18. Chapter Eighteen
AIDEN
19. Chapter Nineteen
SAHARA
20. Chapter Twenty
AIDEN
21. Chapter Twenty-One
SAHARA
22. Chapter Twenty-Two
AIDEN
23. Chapter Twenty-Three
SAHARA
24. Chapter Twenty-Four
AIDEN
25. Chapter Twenty-Five
SAHARA
26. Chapter Twenty-Six
AIDEN
27. Chapter Twenty-Seven
SAHARA
28. Epilogue
AIDEN
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Author Note + Thank You
TRIGGER WARNING
This is a dark romance with content that may be difficult for some readers. If you are sensitive to darker themes, this book may not be suitable for you.
Please note: This story includes references to CSA (child sexual abuse) as past trauma, not explicitly depicted on the page. If this topic is sensitive for you, please be aware that this story may be triggering.
Dedication
For all those who had no choice but to master the art of turning pain into strength, resilience, compassion, and kindness.
I see you shining, diamond.
With Love,
Teresa
Chapter One
SAHARA
“Why can’t we just be like normal kids? I wanna go home and relax after school… Not work.” Eliza drags the damp rag across the counter, letting it soak up the remnants of a cherry soda that a customer spilled.
“Normal kids have to work, too,” I say flatly, eyeing my sister. We don’t share the same blood, but we share the same fucked-up situation—and the same fear of Ron and our father.
“Maybe, but not every freaking day,” Eliza groans as her shoulders drop. She’s not quite sixteen, making her almost exactly ten years younger than I am. I always thought that when I turned eighteen, I would be getting out of this place, but I’m still here.
For Eliza. For Lilly. For Briar.
Even though they didn’t show up to the house until I was eighteen, and my escape plan had already failed. Maybe it was meant to be that I stay… Maybe Aiden was meant to ghost me. The thought of him makes my stomach hurt in the worst of ways. I hate him. But, before I hated him, I loved him.
“Um… Sahara…” Eliza’s voice pulls my attention back to reality. Her tone is riddled with confusion. I look up from staring at my hands on the counter, and see three masked men bursting in through the doors of the store.
They have guns in their hands!
“This is a robbery!” one of them shouts.
I inhale sharply and then rush for Eliza.
“Get down.” I shove her shoulders, and she drops to the floor by my feet, covering her ears. There’s nowhere for her to go. The registers are wedged all together in a corner, and the back room is in the restaurant, which is out through the double doors.
One of the men, the one who announced their intention, comes right for me. He points a black pistol right at my chest. My mind flashes to a scene of him pulling the trigger. What would happen after? Would I die instantly? Or would I bleed out on the floor next to Eliza, listening to her mumbling and crying?
“Open the register,” the man demands, as the other two peruse the small store. They begin knocking things off the shelves or shoving them into their hoodies. My eyes hang on the one closest to the door. His build is familiar.
“Open the register.”
I blink a couple of times and then nod. The gun is much closer to me now than I’d like—but who actually wants a gun in their face anyway? I open the drawer quickly and gaze down at its meager contents. He’s not going to be happy with this.
“Put it in here.” He slides a paper bag across the counter to me. I shove all the cash into it. I don’t know how much it’s going to amount to, but he might get five hundred dollars. Maybe.
“That’s not very much,” a voice rings out, causing my throat to tighten. I look up and see the man that was by the doors is now standing beside the one whom I assume is the ringleader. Everything about him feels as if I know him.
It’s not him.
I ignore the thought.
“I can open the other register.”
I shouldn’t be offering this to the thieves, but I’m going to be in a helluva lot of trouble for this anyway, and I hate my stepfather more than I hate Aiden. Well, maybe. It’s a close race between the two—and Aiden hasn’t shown his face in years. Seven years, to be exact.
“Well, don’t just fuckin’ stand there. Open it.”
I glance up at the man, whom I swear is familiar, and move to the second register. “It won’t have as much… But then again.” I pop the drawer open.
“I think I’m wrong.” I pull out the wads of cash and fill the paper bag for the man. There’s a lot more in this register than I thought there would be. There are even six one-hundred-dollar bills.
If only I could rob this place.
Pursing my lips, I slide it across to them. My heart thumps unevenly in my chest, and I keep looking at the one that triggers some sort of memory. It’s probably in my head, but…
“Do I know you?” I blurt out the words to the man. He’s still hovering at the counter next to the ringleader.
“Let’s go!” the third one shouts from the back. “We gotta get the fuck out of here before the cops get called. I told you it was dicey to rob this place.”
The three of them head for the exit, and I find myself chasing them. I should be relieved they’re gone, but no. Instead, I’m recklessly abandoning all common sense—just for the tiny chance that it might be him.
My hand connects with his wrist the moment we break out into the cool air.
“Please, just stop.”
“What the hell are you doing?” He rips his hand away from me and reaches into his hoodie pocket.
My eyes widen. “No, it’s not that. I don’t want the money. I just thought… I thought you might be someone I’ve been looking for.” It sounds so stupid when I say it out loud, and I stumble backward because the guy stills.
“I don’t know you,” he says, his words grating on my heart as they leave his lips.
I nod, but I’m not sure I believe him. So, I do something stupid. Again. I lunge for his mask and rip it off his face. He shrieks in frustration, and the moment I meet a pair of icy-blue eyes, I know it was all in my head.
This man isn’t Aiden.
“Stupid bitch,” he growls and then takes a step toward me, his gun glistening in the sunlight. “You just did that so you could identify me.”
I shake my head, putting my hands up in a defensive gesture.
“No, I swear. I thought you were someone I knew—like I said.” My throat feels tight as the words come out, and I take a few steps back. “I’m really sorry. I won’t tell anyone anything—”
“Let’s go!” someone shouts from an SUV. “The cops are on their fuckin’ way! Someone called them.”
“Probably you.” The blond-headed man, with absolutely nothing familiar about him now, continues to move toward me. “I should make you pay for this.” The threatening undertone in his voice sends a cold wave of fear through me.
“I said, let’s go!” The one who was the leader hangs out of the window, his mask still in place. “I’ll leave your ass behind if yo u don’t get in!”
The blond man gives me another long look and then spins around. He sprints to the back passenger side of the car. He slides in, and they speed away, leaving me there to watch them.
I’m slightly disappointed they didn’t shoot me. It would’ve been easier to explain that to my stepfather.
And maybe then I wouldn’t wonder about Aiden so much.
“Are you okay?” Eliza rushes to me, wrapping her arms around my small waist. “I thought he was gonna shoot you! Why did you chase after him like that?”
I relax a little, trying to keep myself from going rigid in her grasp.
“I don’t know. I guess I just got a burst of courage or something.” I try to play it off as if it’s a joke. I run my fingers through my long, chocolate brown-colored hair. Aiden used to tell me he loved my hair, and he was always braiding it out of my face for me or playing with it as he lay beside me.
“We better get inside,” I say quietly, steering Eliza back toward the doors. The sirens are getting louder. It’s a good thing someone called them. That probably prevented me from getting shot. That or my stepdad might not have believed me about the robbery.
That might be a problem anyway.
As soon as Eliza and I step back into the store, a handful of restaurant staff and patrons are watching us with concerned looks on their faces.
“That was a brave thing you did,” Millie, one of the long-term waitstaff, says to me, brushing her gray hair out of her face. “I can’t believe you lunged at him like that.”
I force a smile, wishing I had done it for honorable reasons. I glance back toward the door. “I just thought maybe if I saw their face, I’d be able to provide a description.”
“You’re a smart girl,” Millie gives me a warm smile—one that’s similar to a mother or a grandmother, but my mother has never smiled at me like that. She’s usually too drunk, trying to cope with the way my stepfather treats her.
I zone out as I pass by the crowd, making my way back to the empty registers. He’s going to be so pissed at me. My stomach churns as I think about the repercussions of the lost money —and the way my stepfather loses his temper.
“He’ll be here any minute,” Millie says as if she’s read my thoughts. “I’ll help you deal with him.”
I nod but don’t tell her that while she might be able to help me with him here, I still have to go home to that house. I have to live there, and if he’s not calm by the time we get there, it’ll still be bad for me—and for Eliza. All of us.
Having said that, I’d take my stepdad over my step-uncle any day. They’re both questionable men, but Ron… I swallow hard as a shudder rolls down my spine, the memories threatening to slip in. He’s the kind of man who wants to steal a child’s innocence before they even have a chance to grow up fully.
He’s disgusting—and now he’s disabled. All because of Aiden.
And that’s the real reason my stepfather hates me now. His brother is his best friend, and he puts that creep on a pedestal, protecting him from everything.
Eliza tugs at my arm. “Are you sure you’re okay, Sara?”
The nickname draws me out of my thoughts, and I nod. “Of course, I am. It was just such a traumatic moment.”
Eliza gives me a puzzled look, but before she can say anything, I notice my stepfather, standing outside of the shop. He’s speaking with the cops, who have yet to come inside. My stomach tightens at the sight of his six-foot-two frame, dressed in his usual cargo pants and flannel shirt. He’s broad and heavily built—in an overweight kind of way. He’s bald, and these days, most of his hair grows on his face.
“It’ll be okay,” I breathe out, watching as he folds his arms across his chest.
“We didn’t do anything wrong…” Eliza’s already coming to terms with what happened and the consequences we might both face, just for the strangers’ mistakes.
“We didn’t.” I reach down and grab her hand as the tears spill over her cheeks. Eliza is too soft to be stuck in this shithole. She’s delicate, with her heart the size of the moon and her blonde hair in a bun on the top of her head. Her sisters are equally as timid and sweet—they’re the reason I stay. To protect them from Ron and from our stepfather, Will. I pull her into me and hold her, as the men make their way inside.
It could be worse.
But I don’t know how it could be worse. I haven’t known how anything could be worse since my heart was shattered by the one fucking person that promised me the world. I should’ve gotten over it by now, but Aiden is the reason that I’m hated in my own house. Will didn’t hate me until that night Aiden did what he did…
And then that fucker had the nerve to disappear.
I meet my stepfather’s eyes with courage and squeeze Eliza a little tighter. His beady irises are hard to read, but the tick of his upper lip tells me all I need to know. It’s going to be a bad night.
For everyone.
Chapter Two
AIDEN
God, she’s more beautiful than ever. I try to breathe normally as I stand there, casting a shadow across her bedroom window. The whole house is sound asleep, and while I abhor the fucking memories associated with this place, I still can’t bring myself to hate Sahara— my Sara. I gave her that nickname, because when we first met, Sahara just seemed like too much of a mouthful.
I let out a chuckle, shaking my head. I had no fucking clue what I was getting myself into. I thought this house would be the answer to all my problems. I thought I’d be the foster kid that finally got adopted. But no…
No, that was the end of my foster days and the beginning of my path to fuckery and misery. But it was fine in the end. I’ve made it now, and because of that, it’s time for me to do what I promised I would so long ago.
I’m back, Sara. I’m back.
I fumble with the screen of the window, careful not to make too much noise. The Walker family lives in an upscale neighborhood, and I think the community assumes they are some sort of picture-perfect family.
Minus the fucked-up uncle in the pool house.
My fists clench as I toss the screen onto the grass behind me. I take a deep breath, using the sight of Sara sleeping soundly in her bed as a distraction. In truth, I hate myself for what happened—and I’m pissed that she’s still in this house with him. I don’t know why she didn’t leave. When I came back seven years after the incident and saw that she was still here, I couldn’t comprehend it.
She’s twenty-four fucking years old, and she’s still living in her childhood home. Why? She should’ve gone to school, got a job, left, and never looked back. I expected to be chasing her in another state… I never thought I would be coming right back to the place that was the beginning of the end for me. However, I’ll admit the moment I saw the three new little girls here, I had a good idea of why Sara was still here—and I hate that she’s sacrificing her own happiness for their sake.
Well, that and the fact that William Walker will probably just continue to bring in young girls, all in the name of satisfying his brother while keeping Sara around as cheap fucking labor. My palms sweat with irritation as I jiggle the window. I’m going to get her out of here. She’ll have no choice.
I hear the locking mechanism click open, and I sigh with relief as I push the window up easily. Sara doesn’t move from where she’s sleeping, although I wish she knew I was here. I wish she’d wake up. I’d clamp my hand over her mouth and force her to submit. Then I’d do what I had been fucking dying to do all those years ago. I promised myself to her, and I haven’t changed.
