Keeping Her

By Rena Marks

* A Happy Ever After Collection. Book boyfriend, you say? Enjoy stand-alone stories of bad-boy romance, each hero filthy...and rich.*

I'm keeping her. Forever.

My little sister Molly's best friend has moved in with us for a year while she finishes high school. I had no idea the drama whispered between the two was real and Rachel was a real life, effing Cinderella.

Now it's time for college, and Rachel thinks it's time for her to move on. But she has so much more to learn and school isn't the only place to learn from. As far as college is concerned,  my sister can go. But Rachel stays.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rena Marks
• Release date: Jul 23, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393596714

Rena Marks

Welcome to my Worlds! Rena Marks is a bestselling author with over eighty-five novels under her belt. She combines her love of science fiction with paranormal romance because no matter what happens in real life, a happy-ever-after never disappoints. Come get lost in my worlds for a few hours!

Book preview

KEEPING HER

(HEA Collection)

Rena Marks

18+ ONLY

The story depicted here is intended for mature audiences. It most likely contains coarse language and highly graphic depictions of sex acts meant to titillate and excite the reader. All copulating characters are 18 years or older.

That being said, have fun!

KEEPING HER

Rena Marks

My little sister Molly’s best friend has moved in with us for a year while she finishes high school. I had no idea the drama whispered between the two was real and Rachel was a real life, effing Cinderella.

Now Molly’s gone off to college, and Rachel thinks it’s time for her to move on. But she has so much more to learn and school isn’t the only place to learn from. She has no idea I’m keeping her.

Forever.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

About the Author

Also by Rena Marks

Chapter One

YOU KNOW WHAT THEY did to Rachel? My little sister’s voice is outraged, as it usually is when she speaks of her new friend. They met last year when Rachel moved here and spent nearly every day together during the summer. Well, as many days as they could, because according to Molly, Rachel’s parents are horribly abusive religious nuts and keep her chained to the kitchen, cooking and cleaning to make them look good in the cult-like church they attend.

I figure going to church once in a while might have helped us.

I’m six years older than Molly, and this is her senior year in high school. The only reason why we’re still in this podunk mountain town of Colorado is because I didn’t want to make too many changes too soon. Our parents died four years ago, leaving me and Molly right after I finished college. I sold the well established and paid-for house—thankfully, prices had soared ridiculously in Boulder County—for a cool four million.

After that, I turned around and bought us a mountain home out of the city limits for pennies compared to the huge amount in my bank account, and invested the rest after using a small amount to start up my own app company.

Molly has no idea how much we have, especially since I threw myself into my own company—and I’d like to keep it that way. I’d like for her to keep the cool head she’s always shown. And I’d like for her to have a normal life, not one of jet-setting and designer clothes and worrying which boy likes you for you and which one likes you for your billionaire status.

Nah, we’re not gonna live like that.

I realize vaguely that Molly’s still waiting for my response.

What did they do to Rachel? While we’d moved to Gilpin County a few years earlier, Rachel had just moved here last year from a southern town about three hours away. It was a horribly unfair move, Molly explained in her dramatic tone. Rachel had come home from school one day to find all her furniture and belongings packed up in a pickup truck with her mother standing on the front lawn with a stranger she’d just married.

Get in, her mother had barked to Rachel. I married your father and we’re moving to Central City.

I highly doubted the reality of the story, even though Molly swore Rachel had never met the man and had no idea her mother was seeing anyone. And to call him her father was ludicrous, in their minds. But I went along with it. Hell, somehow Molly concocted the idea that Rachel was some sort of modern Cinderella, working as abused slave labor. Teenage girls. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. They’re dramatic as hell, but Molly loves her. And Rachel? She’s a straight A student, and I’m hoping some of that rubs off on my C average sister, who’s a grade ahead, though they’re the same age. Rachel started school late, apparently.

They’re making her call him Dad. She says it’s so weird. She’s never had a dad before. And she has to say it in the right tone of voice, or they get really mad. Can you believe that?

Nope, I say automatically as her arms cross across her chest, even though I can think of more abusive things than being forced to call one’s stepfather Dad.

And you remember that scary movie we watched? The one with the stepfather named Jerry? Where he killed his stepfamily and then would marry another mom with kids and do it all over again? Well, his name is... she sighs dramatically. Jerry.

Good lord. The one pleasure in life we have is cheesy slash and slice horror movies. Apparently, my ill upbringing of my sister is beginning to show.

I pull into the garage. It’s getting cold outside, despite the sun. There should be snow tonight.

After dinner, I work for a couple of hours. Molly is distracted, texting with Rachel. I refrain from pointing out an abused Cinderella wouldn’t have her own cell phone. Later, I poke my head into her room. She looks worried.

I can’t get a hold of Rach.

Maybe she’s busy, bug.

Maybe, she agrees. Her voice is quiet.

I’m heading to town to stock up on food in case the storm hits. You want to come?

Nah. She shivers delicately. It always takes her a month or so to acclimate to winter.

All right, I laugh. I’ll be back soon. Text me if you need me.

Uh, huh. But she’s already distracted, texting Cinder-Rach-ella again.

I head back down the mountain as fat snowflakes begin to fall. It’s dark out and I take the winding mountain roads carefully. Maybe I’ll swing by Rachel’s house and snap a picture for Molly just so she can know everything’s fine.

Our small grocery store is packed with people preparing for the storm and it’s already nine-thirty by the time I leave. I text Molly after I start the car to get the heat running. It’s bitter out, temperature shows minus 2 degrees.

Leaving now. Did you reach Rachel?

Her phone pings back within seconds.

No. I’m really