Taming Pierce

30

☆
R E E C E
30 | half of my soul

Two weeks later:

My days have been a hazy mist of silent mornings and sad nights—detached from reality. I don't remember the last time I have been outside. It was probably a week ago. I took a sick leave—from my own employees like some Goddamn saint of a leader. I have remembered to eat and drink like I usually do—all takeouts—and give Shiver his meals on time.

My dog is just like me—lying down all day on his belly and no more barking his enthusiastic little barks. I stay on the couch mostly where her scent still lives like an anchor for me. She used to spend her mornings right on this spot. I don't bathe, don't talk to anyone, don't even breathe.

Okay, that might be a little too much.

My senses are dead though. That's why I don't hear when my front door opens and in walks a tall man my size. I crack one eyelid open, seeing Shiver get up from his dog bed on the floor, his head turning side to side in a picture of confusion before he lets out a soft bark, an ear lifting an inch over his head.

A hand grasps the collar of my night robe, jerking me to the present as the tall man drags me off the couch harshly, making my feet twist on the knitted blanket I had thrown over me for endless days.

"Wake up, my mother's piece of shit," the familiar voice grumbles and I blink to see Ryan pulling me with him to my room.

"What the fuck?" I yelp, trying to twist out of his grip but he is surprisingly stronger this time which comes as a shock.

Shiver panics, sprinting and barking as he follows us while keeping his teeth barred at Ryan. He comes around Ryan, blocking the way. Ryan stops, giving me some reprieve from his notorious hold on my collar. He bends low, patting Shiver on the head and smiling a dazzling smile.

"Aren't you a good boy?" Ryan coos sweetly, scratching Shiver behind an ear which has the pup instantly melting.

Stupid. Dumb. Fucking. Dog.

"Come here, asshole," my brother starts dragging me again once Shiver moves out of the way, the pup's protective stance easily slipping back to being just cute.

"Let me go, Ryan," I grunt when my elbow hits the door jamb of my room as he pulls me through it. "How did you even get in?"

"Your passcode is embarrassing."

"It's not."

"Crystal's birthday in year, month, date format?" he snorts, rolling his eyes. "How fucking cheap are you, fucker?"

I open my mouth to say something tart when he opens the bathroom door and drags me inside.

"What the hell are you doing?" I growl when he pushes me into the bathtub, finally letting go of my robe.

As he walks around the tub, turning the faucets on, I get a better look at him. He is still dressed in his suit and dress pants which tells me he just rushed here from his office.

But why? It is nine in the morning. His mornings are usually jam-packed at this time.

He drops some bath products into the tub, creating foam that starts to soak me in the lukewarm water.

He cuts his gaze to mine, his nose scrunching as he studies my face. "You stink. Clean up before I'm forced to do that for you. I don't have any wish to see you naked."

I can't stop the retort that immediately climbs up my throat. "Your wife did."

He raises a finger, clicking his tongue. "Nah...Won't work on me anymore. I love Lizzie too much to get stung by you."