by Kate Stacy
“I’ll leave you to it,” she says, turning to Tara, who’s been watching our exchange with amusement. “Unless you need anything else?”
“We’re good, but thanks.”
Madalyn takes her leave and returns to the front counter.
“Tara. My hero.” I clasp my hands together in front of me and flutter my lashes. “Saving me from embarrassment, one nosey sister at a time.”
She winks and smiles.
“You can’t avoid them forever, Presley. Seriously.” She nods to the tablet. “Take a look. I think you’re going to be pleasantly surprised.”
I stop stalling and bite the bullet, flipping through the photos one by one.
I’m silent the entire time.
It’s not that I have nothing to say. I just don’t know what to say.
She wasn’t wrong. These pictures...they’re fucking incredible. I can’t even believe I’m looking at myself. Wow.
When I finally reach the last one, I set the tablet down gently on the table, close my eyes, and take a deep breath.
“They’re great, right?”
“I can’t believe that’s me.” My words come out whispered. “I look gorgeous. It’s hard to accept that I’m looking at myself in those photos.”
She smiles and stands. “Scoot over, let me show you my favorites.”
She flips through the pictures, pointing out the ones she loves the most. Ones that have little nuances that make them stand out from the rest. Her voice becomes a buzzing in my ears as my eyes stay locked on the images on the screen.
That’s really me. There’s no denying it, but I don’t look like that in real life.
How much editing did she do to make me look that good?
Tara’s response makes me realize I’ve asked the question aloud.
“Little to none. That’s all you, Presley.” Much like the expression on her face, her words are purely genuine. “There’s minimal editing. I only tweaked the lighting a little and…”
She shutters her expression for a split second, long enough for me to wonder where her statement was heading. Her chest rises and falls with a deep breath. She meets my eyes, her expression carefully crafted.
Pointing to the image on the screen, she explains, “I smoothed this area here.”
When she gestures to my thighs, I suck in a breath.
She doesn’t miss my reaction.
“It’s okay, Presley. They weren’t that noticeable. I have unedited copies of every single image if you’d prefer to have them that way. I wasn’t sure which you would want, so I erred on the side of caution and saved both.”
Shame and embarrassment wash over me in waves.
I stare at her wide-eyed as I try to catch my breath. A lump forms in my throat making it difficult to speak, but somehow, I manage.
“No one...you can’t...I don’t want…”
Maybe not. I’m practically hyperventilating at this point.
Tara is quick to try to calm me.
“Your secret is safe with me, Presley. Just breathe.” She leans in close, blocking me from view of the rest of the bakery. Quietly, she continues, “I know you don’t know me well, but talking about someone else’s personal business isn’t something I do. I’d never tell a single soul. You have my word.”
It takes a few minutes for my breathing to even out. I’m at a loss on how to respond to her. She takes my silence as a permission to keep going.
“I won’t tell anyone, but I think you should.” My eyes flash to hers and she keeps going, never looking away. “A friend of mine used to do the same thing. She finally opened up and talked to someone—”
“Please. I appreciate you not saying anything, but I’m fine.”
The expression on her face leaves no doubt that she doesn’t believe a word out of my mouth, so I give her a little more.
“Yes, the scars are from self-harm, but they’re old scars. I haven’t cut myself in years. I’ve dealt with it and it’s no longer an issue.”
The look of disbelief vanishes, but I can tell she still has her doubts.
Nothing I say at this point will ease her mind completely, but I can’t worry about that when I’m trying so hard to hold myself together.
I should have never done that fucking shoot.
My secret would have never been exposed.
Until today, Derrick was the only one who knew about my cutting. I would have preferred to keep it that way for the rest of my life, but there’s nothing to be done about it now.
I believe her when she says she won’t tell anyone. It’s the pity in her eyes that gets me. Like she feels sorry for me for not having a better way of coping. She doesn’t understand. People rarely understand things like this.
Even Derrick couldn’t understand, but he tried to be supportive in his own way. He looked out for me, cared for me. He used to check my arms daily, which is when I chose a different area on my body. For a while, I kept that hidden from him too. Eventually, he figured it out and we worked together to find better coping methods when I was feeling overwhelmed and out of control.
“I can see it’s not something you want to talk about, but please know that I’m here if you ever need to talk.” She gives me a comforting smile, which I return.
“Thank you, Tara. I appreciate that,” I say, knowing I’ll never take her up on her offer.
Derrick is the only one I trust with the deepest parts of me.
“Now. I wanted to ask you if you would mind me using a few of these in my portfolio. They truly are some of the best photos I’ve ever taken.”
Part of me wants to say no, but the best part of today has been watching Tara’s eyes light up when she talks about her work, about my photos. I don’t have it in me to break her heart by denying her request.
“I have a flash drive with copies of both sets and it’s all yours, but with your permission I’d like to post a few on my social media and my website. If you prefer, I won’t mention you by name. I don’t have to tag you or anything unless you want me to. It’s one-hundred percent up to you.”
“Yeah, maybe don’t tag me yet.” I laugh, imagining my brother’s reaction to seeing pictures of me in lingerie when he logs into his Facebook account. “Feel free to use them however you’d like. You can mention my name. I don’t mind.”
“Ah! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” She squeezes me in a bear hug and rocks us back and forth.
I’m happy I’ve made her day.
I only hope I don’t regret saying yes.
EIGHT
Adam
Slipping into my office, I quickly answer the call before I miss it entirely.
“What’s up, Jake? Got some news for me?”
“I wouldn’t call if I didn’t. It’s not much, honestly. I’m about to shoot you an email with the information I’ve got so far. There’s a few other leads I can pursue if it’s something you’re interested in—”
“What other leads?” I ask, only marginally sorry for cutting him off.
“Take a look at what I sent your way and we’ll go from there. Call me back after you’ve read it over and we’ll talk about everything else.”
I pace the floor of my office, surely wearing holes in the tiles. I run my fingers through my hair before wrapping my hand around the back of my neck.
“Don’t keep information from me, man. I’m paying you a lot of fucking money—”
“You know me better than that, Adam. I’ll tell you everything, but I’d like to think I know you at least a little bit after working for you off and on for years. The email should be in your inbox. Check it out, process, and call me back.”
He ends the call, not giving me a chance to argue.
A swipe and a few taps on the screen of my phone is all I need to pull up the email I received only minutes ago.
I don’t hesitate to open it.
I’ve been dying to get my hands on this information. I should have done this shit
a lot sooner.
Inhaling deeply, I wait for the email to load.
No matter what information is contained in this message, it’s more than I knew before. It’s more than a name.
I read the short note, letting me know the documents he found are attached. Tapping, I download them one by one, waiting to access them until I’ve downloaded all of them. Seconds later, I have a split second of hesitation, but I push it back and open the first file.
I scan the contents, noting the important information.
I was right in assuming he’s Hispanic. He was born in the United States, but his parents—my grandparents—both immigrated here when they were barely adults themselves. He wasn’t born in Blackwood, but he did grow up here.
There are a few pictures of him, and I find myself studying them, searching for similarities. The resemblance isn’t highly noticeable, but it’s there. One of the pictures is a mugshot and I wonder the reason for his arrest.
My question is answered in the next document. A police report describing a domestic dispute. I don’t recognize the woman’s name, so I keep reading. The case was dropped when the “witness” changed her statement.
So far, it’s not very promising information.
I tap the next document and a sharp pang zips through my chest.
A death certificate.
Just my fucking luck. Find out I have another parent only to discover that he’s dead too. It’s a shot straight to the fucking heart. It hurts like hell, but how can I mourn his loss? It’s hard to grieve for someone you never knew.
What I can mourn are the untaken chances.
The missed opportunities.
What could have been if I’d only known the truth sooner.
Not bothering to look at anything else, I call Jake back.
“What else?” There’s a desperate rasp to my voice.
“Siblings. Well, half-siblings. All signs point to you having at least one, with a definite possibility of more. Info’s been hard to find, though. I’ve never had this much trouble.”
I close my eyes, letting it sink in.
“Do whatever it takes.”
“I’m on it.”
Maybe there’s still some hope after all.
Flipping on the light in the kitchen, I drop my keys and phone on the counter and grab a beer. I could use something stronger, but that would mean going to the bar or the liquor store. I’m in no mood for either option, so this will have to do.
I pop the top off with the edge of the counter and make my way to the living room, sinking down onto my recliner. Moving the bottle to my lips, I gulp down half in one shot.
I was supposed to stay at the shop late tonight to play catch up on all the office shit I don’t usually have time for, but by the time the last client left—I’d had enough.
The whole day went to shit after Jake’s call.
Ryker sliced his hand open and had to go to the ER. Most of his clients were understanding and happily rescheduled. But there’s always that one asshole.
Guy was the biggest pain in the ass I’ve ever had the displeasure of dealing with and that’s saying something. I finally got him to leave the shop, but not before he made a huge scene and I had to call Ryan to come deal with him.
It didn’t end there.
My supply order for the week showed up. Wrong product. Missing product. You name it. I spent almost an hour on the phone trying to get that shit sorted.
Then the girl I was supposed to interview for the receptionist job never showed.
As soon as the last client left, I locked the door, helped the guys clean up, and came straight home.
I’m beyond done.
Reached my bullshit limit for the day.
Unable to relax, I stand and head for my bedroom. Maybe a hot shower will do me some good.
Finishing off the last of my beer, I deposit the bottle onto the bathroom counter and turn on the shower. Stripping down to nothing, I carelessly toss my clothes on the floor. I’ll pick them up later.
Once the water is hot, I step inside the shower and sigh. Stretching both arms out in front of me, I brace my palms against the tile and tip my head forward, letting the water rain down over my back. The heat from the shower goes a long way toward relaxing me, but it’s not enough. In an effort to force the day’s stress from my mind, I try to think about something else. Anything else.
Images begin to flit through my mind and my dick begins to harden.
A round, bitable ass.
Plump, perky tits.
Thick thighs I would love to have wrapped around my waist.
Fully hard now, I slide one hand down my chest, over the hard planes of my abs.
Groaning, I get a palmful of shower gel and wrap my hand around the thick length of my cock, slicking down the shaft. Stroking slowly, I lose myself to the imaginary woman in my mind. I fuck myself with long, firm strokes, picturing the way I would bend her over. Imagining the feminine curves shaping her body, the tight warmth I’d feel as I slipped into her without pause.
Fisting my cock in earnest, my hand moves hard and fast as I imagine myself leaning forward, grabbing a handful of pink hair and using it to turn her face to mine. Each stroke pulls me closer and closer to the edge. My mouth meets hers in a raw, sloppy kiss as I continue to slam into her. Angling my hips so I hit just the right spot, I pull back from the kiss, wanting to see her eyes as she succumbs to the pleasure.
When a pair of bright green eyes meet mine, I fucking lose it.
A ragged moan escapes my throat as I come hard and sudden, spilling all over my hand and the tile.
Breathing heavily as the aftershocks rock my body, the reality of what I just did fully sinks in.
“Fuck!” I shout, releasing my still half-hard cock and slamming my palm against the tile.
Shaking my head, I quickly wash and watch with some kind of sick fascination as the remnants of my release wash down the drain.
That was...fuck.
I’ve never made myself come that hard. A release like that should have left me relaxed, but instead left me frustrated and confused.
Of all the women in the world, why in the hell am I thinking about her while I get myself off?
Princess fucking Presley.
With a growl, I turn off the water and get out of the shower.
Presley is fucking beautiful. I’d be a liar if I tried to deny it, but never once have I thought about her when she wasn’t around. In fact, I actively try not to think about her, and it pisses me off that she somehow slipped into my thoughts when I least expected it.
My phone rings with the tone I set for Jake and all thoughts of Presley flee my mind. I didn’t expect him to get back to me so soon. Cursing under my breath, I wrap a towel around my waist and sprint toward the kitchen where I left it.
“Hey, Jake. Got something for me?”
“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” he says with a clear grin in his voice. He laughs, knowing I’m not going to respond. “Congrats man, you’ve got a half-brother and I’ve got a name for you. I’ve also got a lead on another possible sibling, but it’s a trickier situation and I’m having trouble finding the info I need.”
“Give me what you’ve got. Something is better than nothing.”
“Noah Anthony Vaughn. Born in Blackwood, North Carolina on the twenty-first of October, nineteen eighty-nine, to Elizabeth Vaughn and Luis—”
“I know him.”
I don’t even apologize for cutting him off. I can’t think past the fact that I have a brother and...Noah. Noah’s my fucking brother.
He chuckles. “Small world. You know him though...that’s a good thing. Right?”
“It’s not bad. It’s just...fuck. I don’t even know, man. I gotta wrap my head around this.” I cover my mouth, scrubbing my hand across my jaw.
“Understandable. How about I forward what I've got to you and if you need anything else you can let me know? And I’ll ke
ep searching.”
“Yeah,” I say distractedly, mind still reeling from his revelation. “Yeah, that’s good. Thank you, Jake. For everything.”
“You got it, man. Talk soon.”
I set my phone down and lean back on my hands against the counter. The phone chimes with an email, but I ignore it for now.
A chuckle tumbles from my lips. I can’t believe this shit.
Noah Vaughn is my brother.
Now the question remains...
What the hell am I going to do with this information?
NINE
Presley
“I give up, Luna,” I huff, dropping my e-reader beside me on the couch. “It’s a sad day when I can’t even lose myself in a good book! I’ve read the same line at least ten times because my mind keeps drifting to all the things I’ve been trying not to think about.”
Luna blinks.
“I know.” I sigh, reaching over to stroke her soft, white fur. “I’m failing. Spectacularly.”
Picking up my phone, I swipe the screen to unlock it and open the photo gallery. I mindlessly scroll through the pictures from my boudoir session. First, the edited photos. Then, the ones that weren’t.
Luna walks up my body and nudges my chin with her head. I nuzzle into her, easily accepting her quiet comfort.
“I need to make some decisions, don’t I?” I ask her quietly.
She meows in response, making me smile.
Adopting Luna was one of the best decisions I ever made.
Maybe I have it in me to make a few more.
“What do you think? Should I start an account? Put these pictures out there for the world to see?
Her dual-colored eyes meet mine. One green. One blue. Utterly different, and absolutely beautiful.
I adopted Luna from the local shelter a few months ago. Even though I moved into a smaller apartment after Camille moved out, I found myself constantly lonely. I went to the shelter looking for a companion and as soon as I laid eyes on Luna, I knew she was the one.
No one else wanted her because she was too different.
I was drawn by her jewel-colored eyes.
