by Lane Hart
I can’t believe Patrick convinced me to keep this…this arrangement of ours going. Of course, I wanted to; there was no doubt about that. Being with Patrick is exhilarating, and he has a way of making me feel sexy and…alive. The problem is that if someone else finds out, it could get back to Derek, and then I’ll be fucked.
We’ll just have to be careful. More careful than earlier.
When Patrick had started packing and talking about leaving to go to a hotel or even home, I had freaked out. He’s all that’s standing in his father’s way right now; and if he leaves, well, the next few days would be hell for me. Maybe it’s selfish and stupid; but after years of the abuse, I think I’ve earned a few days of something good before I marry a man who I’m not in love with. While I, of course, love Derek, he doesn’t give me butterflies in my stomach or stop my heart with his jaw-dropping good looks. No, only one man has ever had that effect on me, and he’s my brother by marriage…
“So what do you do for a living, Trick?” Bridgette leans up between the front seats to ask.
“Ah, well, right now I’m cage fighting.”
“Cage fighting?” I repeat, sneaking a glance at him before remembering that I’m driving and need to concentrate on the road. Just that quick glance tells me that while Patrick may have sounded calm and cool about everything earlier, I know by the tick in his unshaven jaw that he’s angry. Likely because I’ve agreed to keep screwing around with him with an engagement ring on my finger. I understand that, of course, but it’s not like I can explain to him that Derek isn’t my first choice for a husband or even my tenth, but Derek loves me, and he’s my ticket out of hell. Patrick wouldn’t understand or believe me if I told him about all the horrible shit his father has done to me.
“I came down here last week for a team tournament with Havoc, and we won first place,” I catch Patrick saying to Bridgette, having obviously missed part of their conversation. The other night he told me he was a fighter, which I took to mean some type of boxer, but hearing he does it in a cage sounds so…feral. And hot.
“You fight for Havoc?” my sister asks, sounding impressed.
“Yeah,” he answers, shifting in his seat to face her. “You’ve heard of them?”
“Who hasn’t? Do you ever get to train with Jax Malone? Or his brother Jude?”
I have no idea who my sister is talking about, but I like finding out more about Patrick. Because he’s my stepbrother; I tell myself that’s the only reason.
“I haven’t met Jax, but Jude owns the Havoc gym I train at in Cary with Linc Abrams. They’re the ones who recruited me after I got into a yard brawl with another one of their teammates…”
“You got into a fist fight with someone?” I ask, wondering who would be crazy enough to voluntarily fight this man. He’s buff and huge.
“Yeah,” Patrick answers tersely. “It was a pretty stupid fight, but that’s how I ended up in Florida and earned some cash.”
After the years of abuse, you would think that I’d find a man of Patrick’s size and apparent strength to be threatening, but it’s the opposite. Since the moment I turned around and saw him in the club Saturday night, I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. It’s there in the warmth of his eyes that’s nothing like his father’s. He may be a fighter, but he’s also a protector.
“And now you get to be here for Willow’s wedding,” my sister says, using the name she’s always called me. I was never fond of Willow as the shortened form of Wilhelmina since it makes me sound like a tree-hugging hippie, but I put up with it from Bridgette.
“Yeah, can’t wait to meet the lucky groom,” Patrick says, causing me to tense and my grip on the steering wheel to tighten. Nothing good would come of Patrick meeting Derek. I know it’s bound to happen at some point this week. I just hope that I’m there to intervene. Oh, and to make sure Patrick doesn’t rat us out.
What I told him about me and Derek’s agreement to see other people was partially true. I fibbed a little and left out the part about Derek admitting to me that he had not actually cheated on me. Derek wanted to, and I wouldn’t put it past him to give in to temptation before I walk down the aisle Saturday. Maybe that’s why I don’t feel as guilty as I should about fooling around with Patrick.
Once I marry Derek, I will never look at another man again. Those vows mean something to me. He may not be the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, but I’ve got to suck it up and go through with it. The only problem is figuring out how to forget Patrick after this week.
“Derek is super nice and laid back,” Bridgette spills. “He’s really smart, just started law school.”
“Sounds like a real catch,” Patrick responds sarcastically.
“So what about you, are you seeing anyone?” Bridgette asks him. I hold my breath for his response. Am I just a side piece of ass for him? God, the thought of him having a girlfriend or some other woman he fucks is downright painful.
“Nope. Definitely single,” he thankfully answers, making it sound like he’s been that way for a long time.
Wait a second.
“Were those military dog tags I saw earlier?” I ask since that would explain his lack of dating.
“Yeah,” he answers.
“Which branch?” my sister prompts.
“Marines.”
“You were in the Marines?” I ask. “When? How long?”
“Oh, you know, for a few years. Out of the country for a chunk of it, but I wouldn’t want to use that as an excuse for not coming around,” Patrick deadpans, and I know his response is intended to be a poke at me for bitching at him for being absent. Now I feel bad, knowing he was serving our country during that time. He made a selfless sacrifice, but I can’t help but wish he would’ve been around more to stop his father…
“You were overseas? Like fighting?” Bridgette asks in concern. Picturing Trick risking his life in war is frightening.
“No, I was over there having a tea party with the Afghanis,” he answers sarcastically. “Yes, we were fighting!”
“Oh my God, that’s scary,” Bridgette says. “Does dad know?”
“No,” Patrick says without an explanation.
“Why not?” I ask him.
“I don’t really think he gives a shit what I’ve been doing since it didn’t involve wearing a suit and arguing with people for a few hundred dollars an hour.”
“Of course he would care!” Bridgette replies. “You’re a war veteran. That’s very badass.”
“Very badass,” I agree with a grin because it’s the truth, and for some reason, I don’t like hearing Patrick think it’s a career not worthy of his father’s respect. Does he actually care what that asshole thinks? He shouldn’t.
“Yeah, and once he hears I’ve been between jobs and cage fighting since then, I’m sure he’ll jump for joy,” Patrick snorts.
“Cage fighting is also very badass,” Bridgette opines as we pull up to the public beach access parking lot.
As soon as we get down to the shore, Bridgette and I set up our lounge chairs, and then Patrick takes off his shirt and heads toward the ocean, walking into the surf.
“Our brother is seriously hot, isn’t he?” Bridgette asks me as we soak up the sun, or at least the warmth of the sun. Both of us are wearing dresses over our bathing suits and slathering ourselves in sunblock, because otherwise we just burn. The swimsuits aren’t really necessary this time of year, but it just feels weird coming to the beach without them.
“That’s a very inappropriate thing to say about family,” I tell my sister. And, God, I’m such a freaking hypocrite.
“Speaking of inappropriate…” Bridgette starts, and I tense, gripping the sides of the lounger. “Were you and he in your bedroom earlier with the door shut?”
“What? No,” I mutter probably too quickly. “He was downstairs, and I went in there to get dressed.”
“Really?” she asks. “Because I could’ve sworn I heard some banging around when I went to the bathroom.”
&n
bsp; “I was doing some packing,” I tell her.
While I hate lying to my sister, there’s no way I’m gonna come clean with her on this particular truth. What I’ve done with Patrick and plan to do in the future is appalling. It’s also ridiculously exciting, not knowing what will happen or when. All I know is that it is bound to be amazing since the last two encounters with Patrick have been more arousing than anything I’ve ever experienced or dreamed was possible with a man. Having Patrick’s hands or mouth on me is a rush, an escape from reality. And I can’t wait to disappear with him again, hopefully soon. His words from earlier are enough to get me hot and bothered --- Even now, after what we just did, I already want you again.
“Ooh! There are Alexa and Sarah,” Bridgette says waving to where her friends are walking down toward the beach.
“I didn’t know you invited them,” I say while trying to push the dirty thoughts about my stepbrother from my mind.
“Yeah, you were busy getting ready when I texted them,” she answers, getting up from her chair to go over and greet her friends that also graduated early with her.
“Hey, girl! You knew we couldn’t pass up spending one of our last days together!” Sarah says when she hugs my sister.
“Aw. Don’t remind me! I’m gonna miss you both so much!”
I’m gonna miss my sister too. I’ll worry about her off at college on her own, but I can’t protect her from everything in the world. Hopefully, she’ll be smart and learn to take care of herself while she’s there.
There’s also a part of me that’s envious of my sister.
After I graduated from high school, I spent a semester at the local community college, but my grades were so shitty that I ended up dropping out, not going back for my second year. It’s not like I had a degree in mind, but I thought it might be a taste of what all of my friends were doing, although they moved away for school.
I couldn’t up and leave Bridgette to fend for herself with our stepfather. And just like in high school, I couldn’t concentrate in my classes either. My mind always wandered during lectures, usually because I was exhausted from the late-night wake ups. During exams, I could never focus, too busy counting the hours and minutes until I would be humiliated in secret yet again. Even surrounded by hundreds of other students, I always felt lost. Isolated. Trapped. Alone. None of them could understand the hell I was going through most nights, the constant fear and worry that he would hurt Bridgette the same way as he hurt me. It was like everyone around me was moving forward while my life was standing still, consisting of only one thing --- the never ending abuse.
Thinking about what happens at night…there’s always been this crushing amount of shame on my shoulders because I stopped fighting him so long ago, back when it all first started. Even at fifteen, I was smart enough to realize he liked it better when I fought. So I stopped. I gave up and let him do whatever he wanted because it was the easier way. Less painful. Then the abuse became routine. In fact, on the nights he didn’t come to my room, I panicked, thinking he had gotten fed up with me and moved on to Bridgette. So I would get out of bed and check her room, then lie awake listening for sounds of her being hurt.
While my friends were all excited about how amazing it was hooking up with their boyfriends, dishing about all the dirty details, I was living a nightmare that I couldn’t tell anyone about, certain they wouldn’t believe me like my mother, or that they would blame me for not reporting it sooner.
I was envious because I wanted what they all had --- a regular life.
After Derek and I had started dating, he was so sweet and nice that I thought he could make me forget, replacing all the bad memories with good ones. Instead, I cringed every time he tried to touch me during the first year of our relationship. When he started pulling away after our first year together, I knew that if I didn’t gather my courage and sleep with him, he would dump me and I would have to start all over with learning to deal with another stranger touching me. So I let Derek inside me right near the end of my period so that he would think he took my virginity. As much as I winced, dealing with the awkward intimacy with him being a hesitant virgin, it was very believable. After a few times, I got used to the plain, boring sex that was anything but pleasurable with Derek, and it too became routine.
When Mike somehow found out, he started hitting me with the belt more, taking me rougher as punishment. And ever since we announced we were getting married, right after Bridgette told us she would be graduating early, he’s tried to hurt me more, probably because he knows the end is near. By Saturday, I’ll be moved out of his house, living with Derek.
The thought of being free of my stepfather should make me happy. Instead, it feels like I’m trading one prison for another.
“Earth to Willow!” my sister says, pulling me from my thoughts.
“What?” I ask.
“You were zoned out. Thinking about your honeymoon?” Bridgette teases.
“Mmm,” I mutter. Since the spring semester of law school starts next week, Derek and I won’t have a honeymoon until his next break in March.
“Well, I was trying to tell you that I’m gonna head to the boardwalk with Sarah and Alexa. You gonna be okay with brotherlicious over there?” she asks.
“Holy fuck. That’s your brother?” Sarah asks, lowering her sunglasses to get a better look at Patrick walking toward us. “I didn’t know you had an older brother.”
“Stepbrother,” I correct. “Fine. Go. Have fun,” I tell my sister, looking forward to a few hours alone with Patrick. “You gonna ride back to the house with them?”
“Yeah. See you later,” Bridgette says, grabbing her hipster purse and leaving me on the beach with the sexiest man ever.
Chapter Nine
Trick
Bridgette and her giggling friends leave as soon as I get back to the lounge chairs, leaving me alone with Mina.
Thank fuck.
She’s absolutely gorgeous, and I can’t help but wish that it was warmer out so that she would be wearing only the skimpy bikini rather than that emerald dress. Although, the dress fabric is so thin, I can clearly see that her nipples are beaded up, making me want to run my tongue over them. Good thing the aviator glasses cover my eyes, hiding my shameless perusal.
And, fuck, will I ever be able to look at my stepsister without thinking about seeing her naked or on her knees with my dick in her mouth? No, probably not. If I had to guess, I would say she’s thinking about me in a very unbrotherly way since she’s fidgeting with her diamond ring. I’ve noticed she does it almost absently like she’s touching it to remind herself why she has to try and behave. Not that I plan on letting her do any such thing over the next few days. She is so fucked.
“Little sis ditching us?” I ask Mina, taking the lounge chair Bridgette vacated.
“Yeah. Bridgette’s leaving Sunday, starting the spring semester at the University of Miami, and her friends want to spend some time with her before she leaves.”
“Wow. She finished high school early?” I ask.
“Uh-huh. She’s really smart. I’m so proud of her,” Mina answers with a small smile, sounding almost wistful.
“How old are you? Shouldn’t you be in school instead of getting married?” I pry.
“Yeah, probably. I’m twenty, but I’ve never been like Bridgette. I didn’t have the grades to get into a decent university. I couldn’t even keep up in the community college.”
“Really?” I say in surprise. “Do you work?”
“No.”
“So you’re content to be what, a trophy wife? Arm candy for the rest of your life?” I ask.
Mina scoffs. “You’re an asshole. Again, you don’t know shit about me.”
“Sorry. And school wasn’t my thing either,” I admit, stretching my feet out in the lounge chair and resting my hands behind my head. “Which is why dear old dad had no use for me, the idiot son who barely graduated high school.”
“No one even cared when I said I was gonna drop out
of college,” she tells me, her eyes looking out over the crashing waves in front of us. “Guess they weren’t surprised when I failed.”
“Yeah, same here. That’s why I went into the Marines. I needed to do something worth a damn, and college wasn’t it. So, it was either get stuck in a minimum wage job or join the military.”
“I don’t think any branch would take me,” she jokes with a grin.
“Probably not. You’re a little scrawny,” I tease, reaching over to pinch her hip. She swats my hand away but grins and rolls to her side to face me.
“I get winded going up a flight of stairs and can barely lift a gallon of milk, so there’s no way I could do pushups and all that other shit,” she says. And if I had to guess, I would say she’s ogling me from behind her glasses. Glad I’m not the only one.
“It’s pretty hardcore,” I tell her.
“The fact that you not only survived training but war is pretty impressive,” she says. “Why do you have three dog tags on two separate necklaces?”
When Mina reaches over and picks up each one to read them, I don’t stop her. I hear her gasp as she realizes one is not mine.
“Austin? A friend you lost?” she asks.
“Yeah.”
“Will you tell me about him?”
I huff out a laugh. “That’s a long story.”
“I don’t have anywhere to go. And I would love to hear about the man who put Jedi as his religious preference.”
Chuckling at the reminder of Austin’s dorky humor, I can’t help but think about his son Grayson, who also loves Star Wars. I wonder if he even knows it was his father’s favorite. While I’ve tried to be there for Alyssa and Grayson, I haven’t yet been able to really talk about Austin with them. I’m afraid the good memories would bring back all the horrible ones with it.
“I met Austin when I first arrived at Camp Lejeune. He was a character and not at all bitter about how he came to be in the service –”
“How…” Mina interrupts.
“I’m getting there,” I tell her with a grin. “Austin fell for the girl next door. Literally. Alyssa was too young for him, but he loved her. And then he got her pregnant when she was a teenager.”
