They walk through the underground parking lot, Richie leading the way, Seth lingering behind, and with Kate stuck in the middle, seething with anger. "When are we going to get the ring?"
Richie doesn't respond, or even turn around.
"Do you have any idea how important this is to me?" Kate grabs his arm, forcing him to face her. "Or you just don't give a shit. It doesn't matter what I want, right?"
He steps forward, pulls her into his arms. There is a storm raging in the blue pools of his eyes, and it's both frightening and intoxicating. "And what the fuck do you want, Kate?" He spits out each word, like he can barely stand to speak. "Oh, that's right. You want normal, right? Normal life, normal boyfriend, normal sex." There is a cruel glint in his gaze, daring her to rise to his taunts. "But you're not normal, and you never will be. You can kill Santanico and every other goddamn vampire in this world but nothing is going to change you back into the girl you used to be."
"Fuck you!"
"Richie," Seth speaks from behind, worried. "Let her go."
He doesn't, tightening his grip on her. "That girl is dead, she died a long time ago. But you're not. You're alive, and you want things that that girl never wanted. And it scares you, it terrifies you, I know, but you need to get over all that bullshit and just accept the truth."
"Go to hell!"
Richie cups the back of her head, his long fingers digging into her skull as he draws closer. "You can fuck every white-bread out there, sunshine, but it's never gonna be good. And it's never gonna be enough, and it'll never make you happy. Because what you want, who you want, is us."
She tries to shove him away but he's too strong. "I'm not a fucking whore for you to pass around!"
Hurt flashes in his eyes. "No, you're not." He rests his forehead on hers, cupping her face, and she doesn't understand how he can switch from intimidating to tender so quickly. "Be honest with yourself, Kate. You want me, and Seth, and you deserve to have everything you want." His eyes pierce into her, shaking her to her very core, leaving her aching and breathless. "I can feel it, every time you look at him, every time he's around you. You love him."
Heat rises in her cheeks. She feels exposed, vulnerable, knowing Seth is listening to everything Richie's saying.
"But you love me too."
She stops struggling, mesmerized by the intensity in Richie's eyes.
"I never thought someone could love us, understand us, but you do. You care about my brother as much as I do and it blows my mind." His lips trace hers, soft, gentle, light as a feather. "But this isn't just about Seth and me, Kate. You're happy when you're with us, both of us. You can't deny that."
She closes her eyes, overwhelmed with emotions.
"We belong to you. And I swear, you'll never be alone. Seth and I will always be with you. And the three of us, we can take down Santanico. Together."
There is a longing in her soul that's aching to be fulfilled, and desperate to believe in Richie's promises. Her breath catches in her throat, her body trembles as his tongue curves along the shell of her ear, teasing her. Her fingers fist his shirt, clinging to him.
She wants this so, so badly.
Richie's lips close over hers in a slow, languid, tantalising kiss and the resulting pleasure shoots through every inch of her, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. And then, suddenly, everything gets more keen, heightened because there's someone else behind her.
Seth.
His hands caress her hips, his lips grazing the back of her head, and she can't think, or breathe, or focus, not when Seth claims her with his body and Richie with his mouth. Her knees feel weak, like they'll give way any second now, and she leans back on Seth for support, one hand settling on Richie's shoulders, the other reaching back to grab Seth's hair at the nape of his neck.
Seth's breath is hot against her skin, licking and nipping, while Richie kneels down in front of her, his tongue teasing her nipples over the fabric of her dress before roving down the length of her body. She cries out loud, her body a white-hot boneless vessel of fluid while a pair of hands - Richie or Seth's, she doesn't know, maybe even both - slip between her legs and fingers start to work her expertly.
It's all too much, too intense and she's an incoherent mess in their arms, moaning, groaning, screaming out for more.
"Katie-Cakes."
Her eyes open at the eerily familiar whisper. She freezes, startled, spotting her dad standing a few feet away, shame and disappointment etched onto the crevices of his face. "Daddy?" she whispers.
"Woah, kinky," Seth murmurs in her ears. "Didn't think that would get you hot."
And just as suddenly as Jacob appeared, he's gone, and the wind is knocked out of her lungs, like somebody physically punched her. "Stop!" she screams, pushing Richie and Seth off. Oh god. What is wrong with her? What is she doing?
Richie gets up from the floor, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He's watching her with concern, as is Seth. "What's wrong?"
"You okay?" Seth asks at the same time.
She can't look them in the eyes. Her heart is pounding, her body still aching for release even as she's overcome with disgust at her own behaviour. Her skin is ice-cold and burning hot at the same time; she doesn't even know how that's possible.
"Kate, what's going on?"
Richie steps closer but she shoves him away. "Get your hands off me!" she screams. "I don't want you to touch me. Ever."
"You were screaming for it a minute ago," Richie fires back.
She looks at Seth who's standing there, frowning. He's so quiet, uncharacteristically so, and she wonders if it's because he saw her dad too. "You did see him, didn't you? He was right there." She points to where her father was standing. "He was watching us."
Seth exchanges a brief glance with Richie and then they both stare at her like she's going out of her mind and it makes her even more furious, angry.
"The preacher wasn't here, Kate. You can't go back to being the preacher's daughter again. You can't be the good little girl that does everything daddy tells you to do. He's dead, Kate. And you're seeing things, going crazy, just like your Mama did."
Richie isn't speaking but she can hear his thoughts in her head. His vicious, cruel thoughts, taunting her, punishing her.
Her insides squeeze with shame and anguish. "Don't you dare talk about them like that!"
"Talk about who?" Richie asks. He looks confused and afraid, and she doesn't understand how. Doesn't he realise she can hear his thoughts?
Both brothers close in on her, crowding her.
"Why not?" There it is again, Richie's voice in her head. "He's dead. He's gone. He's never coming back. And guess what? He's not a fucking angel watching over you either. So give up the charade and admit who you really are. A dirty, crazy whore, just like your mama was."
"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" She attacks Richie, scratching him, hurting him. "I hate you! I hate you!"
And then, suddenly, everything goes dark.
