The Dare (Truth or Dare Book 1)

The day has been productive but absolutely dreadful without Elle here to add a bit of light and fun to the work. But I’ve conferenced with Roger, my London attorney, and Gary, bless his soul, for the middle of the night call, and we’ve worked out most of the details of the trust.

It seems I am correct that Grandfather left the property to a trust in my name. My father has been steward of the trust since I was a boy, but it should be a simple matter to resolve that and take control of the property myself now that I’m of age and in good standing.

Regardless of what he told Eddie, that property is mine. And I will see Fox HQ2 successful there. However, there are many steps until that’s a reality.

Mostly, the licensing and zoning of the land, as Elle mentioned. It will take a council vote to return the land to its previous rights, allowing Fox’s operations, but considering it’s only been decommissioned for fifty years, it shouldn’t be too much of a hassle.

After the long day of work, I decide to reward myself with a drink downstairs in the bar, thinking I can catch Elle as she comes back from tea with Mum.

I hope she wasn’t too hard on her, though I’m not sure if I mean Elle giving Mum a hard time or the reverse. It could go either way. Especially with Mum’s friends. And Elle’s mouth.

In the lobby, I see Elle walking outside, her teal skirt over her lush arse immediately drawing my eye. At first, I’m confused why she’s leaving, but then I see Lizzie at her side, still in her school uniform.

Lizzie should be home by now. After school activities might keep her for a bit, but it’s getting late.

Right before I go over to find out what’s going on, I see Elle place her hands on Lizzie’s shoulders. Face to face, Lizzie nods along with whatever serious business Elle’s saying. It piques my interest, and I don’t interrupt . . . yet.

They walk outside, and I follow a moment later, admittedly a bit stalkerish but hoping curiosity won’t kill the cat. I chuckle to myself at the Americanism and turn the corner after Lizzie and Elle.

In the quick minute it took me to catch up to them, all hell has broken loose. Or it’s on the verge of it, at least, because there’s a snot of a boy standing way too close, almost in Lizzie’s personal space. And she’s a girl who doesn’t have much of one, happily hugging friends. Her school bag is on the ground at her feet and her head is hanging low, giving her a forlorn look.

I can’t hear him, not yet, but the leering look on his face speaks clearly. As do the smarmy looks on his mates.

I run over, damning the traffic as I cross the street and get close. But suddenly, an arm grabs at me, pulling me into a doorway.

“What the hell, Colton? You’re going to ruin it for her! Shh!”

Elle is scolding me, but Lizzie’s being damn-near mauled visually by this creep. She told me there were neighborhood boys giving her a hard time, and I wanted to follow up on it but didn’t have an opportunity yesterday while arguing with our father. I hate that it’s like this, that she’s going through something, but I won’t shy away from the opportunity to fix this for my sister.

“Let me go. I have to help Lizzie. Don’t you see what’s about to happen?”

For a small thing, Elle’s got a death grip on my arm, her nails digging deeply into the flesh there. “Yes, I see. But I don’t think you do. Just watch.”

The boy steps forward even more, one hand coming up to twist a lock of Lizzie’s hair around his finger. I see her eyes glance sideways, toward the guy’s friends, and then to the other side, to Elle and me. With her free hand, the one that’s not holding me back by brute strength, Elle flashes a thumbs-up at Lizzie.

Wait, something’s up, I realize.

Lizzie’s head was down, but there’s a brightness in her eyes. She’s . . . faking?

“Come on, Liz. Just one little smooch. You won’t want no other boy after you’ve had me.” Braggy bastard sounds like believes his own press as his mates agree with a chorus of ‘yeah, Lizzie’ and ‘c’mon, bird.’

“Will, I’ve told you no at least a dozen times and you never seem to listen. You don’t hear me or don’t want to.”

Will? It hits me . . . that douche canoe is Will Blackwire, the gardener’s grandson. Lizzie’s tormentor lives on our own fucking property. I’ll have him thrown out on his arse by nightfall.

“Don’t play hard to get, Lizzie. We’re happening and everyone knows it. That’s why no other boys ask you out. They know that fat gash is mine, and one day, you’ll know it too.”

I hiss in fury and Elle literally growls beside me. “She’s fourteen fucking years old, you creepy pervert. How old is that guy, anyway?”

Somehow, we’re both holding each other back at this point. “He’s got to be sixteen, maybe seventeen by now. What’s happening? Tell me something’s happening or I’m going to go kill him right fuckin’ now.”

“Will, if my fat gash is supposedly yours, does that make your dick and bollocks mine?”

Will’s lewd grin makes him look like he’s glad Lizzie’s finally catching on to his plan. “Of course, anytime you want.” He throws his arm around her shoulders and grabs his crotch lewdly, like he’s ready to go, and he’s standing close enough to Lizzie that his hand has to brush against her belly.

“Then listen up, because I want you to hear this. You demanded a kiss. You ordered me to go on a date. The answer is, the answer always will be . . . NO!”

And with that, Lizzie pulls a knee up quick and fast, slamming into Will’s groin. I hate the fucker, and even I cringe a bit in sympathy as he folds in half and cries out.

Lizzie’s not done. She leans over and grabs his ear like Nan used to do to us. “I’m done being nice. Come near me again and I’ll knee you even harder. I’ll make it so that your wanker won’t even stand at attention first thing in the morning.” Holding Will’s head up, Lizzie waves her pinkie finger around and makes a sad face.

While Will writhes, his legs crossed and his cries turning to whimpers, Lizzie bends down and calmly picks up her school bag. “Anyone else want to ask me out?”

They all shake their heads no pretty quickly, and I’m so fucking proud of my baby sister.

Lizzie turns and struts toward the doorway where Elle and I are waiting. She high-fives Elle, and I can see that whatever just happened solidified something between them. Something really good and full of powerful strength. My badass girl teaching my sister to be just as kickass, literally. “Did you see me, Colton? Did you see me take down Will?” She whispers it, but it’s still loud enough that I can hear the overlay of pride.

“I did, Lizzie. I saw you take him down like a badass. Seems you learned some self-defense skills even without my teaching you how to box.” Lizzie looks at Elle, who’s literally whistling like she had nothing to do with this. I suspect she had everything to do with it. “I guess I have you to thank for this?”

Elle smiles, stopping her tuneless song. “Maybe? Depends on how mad you are.”

“That was bloody brilliant, other than the time warp that made that one quick conversation seem like an eternity to a pissy big brother.”

“In that case, yeah. I told Lizzie to stop being proper and to be right. Even if that meant fucking up his shit. Oops.” She covers her mouth like she’s going to teach Lizzie new curses, but that ship has long since sailed.

“Well then, great job.” I kiss the tip of Elle’s nose and then Lizzie’s forehead. “And great job to you too, Sis.”

Elle leans into me a little as I throw my arm around her shoulder. Similarly to what Will did, but oh, so very, very different because Elle obviously welcomes my touch.

“I hope you feel the same way after I tell you about what happened at tea. I was definitely right, but I was wholly improper. I might have told them we have a healthy sex life and that you like my blow jobs. Though not in quite those words, but close enough.”

“You what?” I say, shocked to the core.

Lizzie laughs. ‘Serves ’em right.”

I wait a quick moment and Elle explains about tea. My mother . . . I’d expected some sort of awfulness, but not what she put Elle through. Maybe it’s the American rubbing off on me, because while I know I should be horrified at Elle’s crass language at tea, I mostly find it . . . amusing and daring.