Jugkook had no words to refute his contemptuous insult, but he wasn't going to accept his charity.
"Shut your filthy mouth. I. Am. No. Whore. I will not stand for your insult anymore. One more disgusting insinuation of me being one and see what happens to your dick," Jungkook mimes a pair of scissors with his fingers, "Also, we already have plenty of clothes. We don't need any more," he insisted vehemently.
Jungkook was daring to try to reject what he knew to be the truth, he must be taught a lesson that would ensure that he did not do so again.
Jungkook would wear clothes bought with his money so that they would both know just what he was. He might be forced to marry him to be able to lay legal claim to his sons, but he wasn't going to let him forget where he belonged to that group of sluts all whose willing to sell their bodies to anyone rich enough to provide them with the lifestyle of designer clothes and easy money they craved.
"Plenty of clothes?" Taehyunh taunted, "In one case? When there are three of you? My sons and my soon-to-be husband will be dressed in a manner appropriate to their station in life, and not-"
"Not what?" Jungkook challenged him.
"Do you need me to answer that question?" was his silkily derisory response.
~~~
Shivering in the easterly March wind, Jungkook locked the front door.
His head pounding painfully as he got into the car, its interior smelled of expensive leather, his mouth went dry.
The twins were both engrossed in the TVs installed in the back of the front seats as Taehyung concentrated on his driving.
Now wasn't the time to think about that past, he told himself but it was too late.
The memories were already storming his defences and flooding over them.
Jungkook's parents' death in an accident had been a terrible shock, followed by his adopted sister's decision to sell their family home behind his back. His friend had tried to protect him by not telling.
Angry with his adopted sister and on top of the betrayal he felt from his friend not telling him anything, Jungkook had deliberately chosen to befriend a new girl in the area, knowing that his friend would disapprove.
Although the new girl was only eighteen months older than Jungkook, Jungkook had been far more worldly, dressing in tight-fitting clothes in the latest and skimpiest fashions, her hair dyed platinum blonde and her face heavily made-up.
Secretly, although Jungkook hadn't been prepared to admit it, he had been shocked by some of the disclosures the new girl had made about the things Jungkook had done.
From men to drugs, the new girl's goal in life was to get a wealthy boyfriend. Jungkook had heard that young wealthy men in NY patronised a certain club in the city, and had asked Jungkook to go there with him.
Jungkook had just turned seventeen, a very naive boy at that, with his whole world, turned upside down by events over which he'd had no control.
But no matter how often his friend had reassured him since then, his rebellion had been completely natural and understandable, that he was not to blame for what had happened, Jungkook knew that deep down inside he would always feel guilty.
Before they'd left for the club the new girl had promised Jungkook a 'makeover,' pouring them both a glass of special orange juice.
The special orange juice had gone straight to Jungkook's head as he had never drunk alcohol. The drink had left him feeling high and light-headed that he hadn't protested or objected when Jungkook insisted Jugkook to change into one of her own short, pleated skirts and a sheer, tight-fitting top, before painting his face in a similar style to hers, with dark eyeliner, heavy thick mascara loaded on each eyelash and lots of pink lipgloss.
