Good Stepbrother (Love #2)

by Scarlett Jade

  “I will,” I reassured him. “Hey, tell Carter I’ll see him soon, okay?”

  Charlie jammed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and sighed. “I’ll tell him.”

  My driver handed me tickets. “These are for your family. Courtesy of Patrick.”

  Passing them out my window to Charlie, I smiled. “Come see me in Kansas City.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Charlie took the tickets and slid them in his back pocket.

  “Bring Carter?” I pleaded.

  “Get going, Bri. See you soon.” Charlie waved at me while the car pulled away.

  I felt empty as the wheels turned. I left my heart in Marysville. I had to get back home soon and get everything figured out. Carter and I had to see if we had what it took to last or not. Once we made it to Omaha, I was ushered to my private jet and the whole flight to Phoenix, I slept. I knew if I didn’t catch some sleep while we flew, I’d be a mess once we arrived. My show started at eight PM and had sold out in minutes. People wanted to see if I was okay. They needed to know if I was going to make it.

  “Wake up,” a voice told me and my eyes flicked open to see Patrick standing over me.

  “Hey,” I mumbled groggily. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Taking you to the show. Come on, I’ve got some pills for you to get you through the night.” He jiggled a little pouch of pills at me and smiled brightly. “Let’s go rock Phoenix, superstar.”

  Shaking my head, I stood from my seat. “I’m not taking them. I’m sober.”

  “Sober-schmober!” Patrick cried gleefully. “Rehab and rest suited you. No one stays sober.”

  “No thanks.” I told him again, with a little more force. “Last time I had one of your concoctions, I was in a coma.”

  “Coma-schmoma! That was just a k-hole and you passed out for a bit. No big deal. Everyone does it!”

  Turning on him, I jammed my finger into his chest. “Well, not me. Not anymore. Got it?”

  His eyes narrowed and he clenched his jaw. “Don’t fuck this up. We’re barely staying on the payroll at Aurora as it is. I put my ass on the line for you, you little slut, so you better not fuck me over.”

  “I’m not a slut.” I countered. “And I have given you five years and you’ve made a lot of money off me, Patrick. You used me, drugged me up, and raped me at least once. So, unless you want me to go to the tabloids with that, I suggest you leave me alone. Let me perform my songs and when the six shows are over, I’m going home for a nice long hiatus.”

  His nostrils flared. “Fine. Let’s go. Have you been eating like a horse? You look like you’ve gained ten pounds. We can’t have that. You’ll be back on your diet again. You have a dress for next year’s Grammys that you must fit into.”

  “Okay, fine.” Following him out of the plane, we hurried to the waiting limo. I crawled in and he slid in beside me, closing the door. “Let’s go,” he told the driver, then closed the glass between him and us.

  “Let’s leave that open,” I gulped and Patrick shook his head.

  “Let’s not. Here’s how it’s gonna be, Bri. You will perform or I will wreck you. Do you understand me?” His lips flattened into a firm line and he gripped my knee.

  Shaking off his hand, I nodded. “I said I’d do the six shows.”

  “You’ll do whatever I tell you.”

  Rolling my eyes, I looked out the window. That’s what you think…I’m not the same weak little girl I was a few months ago. Half an hour later, we pulled up behind the arena and Patrick opened the door.

  “Let’s go,” he ordered and with a heavy sigh, I complied.

  Exhaustion weighed down my bones but I knew I could get through the show. A little dancing, lip-syncing and then it would be done. Then I could sleep. He caught my elbow and dragged me through the back exit to a dressing room where he shoved me into the chair.

  “Easy!” I snapped and he pursed his lips.

  “Shut up. Makeup! Wardrobe! Let’s get her looking like the pop superstar she is!” Turning, he left me in the room. Women flocked in and I was poked, prodded, waxed, lotioned, my hair was blown out and curled into an elaborate style. They cinched me into a tiny red corset and matching panties and I tottered on super high heels.

  “She’s ready!” a blonde woman screamed over the din and they all stepped back to look at me. Glancing into the mirror, I hated the woman staring back at me. She was painted and looked fake. She wasn’t me. I’d never really been her. That realization stunned me and my eyes widened. None of the bright lights and bullshit mattered. Not anymore.

  Patrick shook me firmly. “Let’s go! You’re on in two minutes! Get your head in the game, Bri!”

  Before I had time to process anything, I was striding out onto the stage. I danced robotically, my body automatically doing the movements I’d practiced a million times. I lip-synced to my songs and barely paid attention.

  All I could think was, I don’t have to be like this anymore. I have a choice.

  ***

  I wondered if Charlie and Carter would be at my next show. They had front row seats. I was willing to bet Charlie would be there, but Carter? Nah, I didn’t think he’d show. He was sure to be pissed because I went back on tour.

  I was exhausted as we pulled into Kansas City. “Can we go to the hotel?” I pleaded with Patrick to no avail.

  “No! You need to work out, then get ready for the show. You’re not losing weight like we’d hoped. So you have to eat less and work harder. You wouldn’t be so tired if you’d just take a pill or two. I don’t know why you have your panties so in a bunch about it. You used to be a fun girl.”

  “I’m not her anymore.” I didn’t want to be. I didn’t have to be.

  “That much is obvious. You’re a buzzkill,” Patrick pouted and I smiled.

  “Let’s do this then.”

  A few hours later I stood just off stage while my music played and lights swept the stage. I was due to go onstage in less than five minutes. I’d been laced into a costume, my makeup and hair done, and I’d worked out. I felt like crap, but I had to go on. A wave of nausea swept through me and I took in deep breaths, swallowing down bile.

  “You ready?” Patrick asked excitedly beside me. “It’s a packed house.”

  “I don’t feel so good,” I started and he grabbed my elbow.

  “Get it together. We can’t refund any more tickets.”

  Nodding, I pulled away from him and took in another breath. My ears rang slightly and my vision swam, but I could do it. “Okay.”

  “Let’s do it.” Patrick nudged me. “Go!”

  Darting out on stage, I shimmied and swayed along to the fast paced song, my lips moving along with the track. I could feel my pulse hammering in my throat and the stage dipped and I almost lost my balance. Thankfully, the next song was a slow one, and I was able to catch my breath while I lip-synced.

  My corset was cinched too tightly and when I tried to suck in another draught of air, I found I couldn’t. “I can’t do this,” I whispered into the mic, and I heard my words echoing through the stadium. The crowd gasped collectively as I began my descent to the stage floor. I wasn’t sure why the music kept on playing, or why anyone had heard my words. I just couldn’t keep going. Air was a luxury, and nothing felt right. Crumpling to the floor, I clawed at the bodice of the corset. I couldn’t find air. My eyes widened in panic and I struggled harder.

  “Calm down,” a guard yelled, and I tried to listen. My eyes rolled back and I remembered nothing else for a while.

  “She’s gotta go back on tour!” Patrick yelled, jerking me awake.

  “She’s not going,” a man’s voice replied curtly. I knew that voice. Opening my eyes was exhausting, it was like weights hung off my lashes. Finally I was able to peek through my lashes enough to see Charlie at my bedside and my heart warmed.

  He came! But did Carter?

  “And just who the hell are you?” Patrick snapped back snottily. If I’d had the energy, I would’ve said so
mething, but I didn’t. I think Charlie handled himself well, though.

  “I’m family.”

  “She has no family other than her desperate aunt and her father.”

  “Funny, I disagree. I’m family. I’m here to stay, and I’m telling you that she needs some time off. You’re not gonna run her into the ground to line your pockets, you snake!”

  Ah Charlie, I’ve always liked you.

  Forcing my eyes open, I whispered, “Water?” Taking in a deep breath, I relished the feel of unencumbered ribs.

  Charlie slowly raised the head of my bed and held a cup of water with a straw. “Here, kiddo. Get a drink.”

  Sipping the water, I smiled tiredly and my head lolled on the pillow. “Thanks, Charlie. You came. Where’s Carter?”

  Charlie’s mouth twitched in a smile and he shook his head. “Carter wasn’t on the list. He jumped the gates and tried to get to you when you fell but some mammoth man knocked him down and threatened to taze his balls.”

  My mouth fell open in part shock, part horror. “Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine, just antsy, worrying about you. I’m gonna go give him a call and let him know how you are. Is there anything I can tell him?”

  I studiously avoided Patrick’s stare. His beady black eyes bored into my cheek. “Tell him I want to come home.”

  Charlie nodded and squeezed my hand. “I’ll tell him.”

  As Charlie left, Patrick gave him a nasty look then turned on me the second the door closed. “What the fuck do you mean you want to go home? You still have shows to finish!”

  Wincing slightly, I cleared my throat. “I can’t do them.”

  “I’m not refunding any more cities because you want to be lazy!” Patrick roared, jamming a hand through his wispy grey hair. “This is unbelievable. You will be released into my care and we will continue on to the next city. There’s simply too much at stake, Bri!”

  Shaking my head, I argued, “No, there’s not. I accomplished all I wanted to. I saw the top. I hated it. I don’t ever want to be there again. Not if it means I have to sleep with you and be high all the time to enjoy it.”

  “Excuse me?” He recoiled as though I’d slapped him. “What we have together is special, Bri.”

  “No, it’s really not. It’s been you taking advantage of a broken person to make me do what you wanted. You’re not the puppeteer, and I’m tired of being a puppet. I’m exhausted, Patrick, and I can’t do this anymore. It’s been fun but it’s over. I want to stop touring and record albums how I want to.”

  “Have you lost your fucking mind?” Patrick screamed at me. “You can’t break the contract! We’ll fine you!”

  “Fine me then,” I sighed. “I don’t want this life anymore. I never wanted this life.”

  Just as he reached for me, Charlie walked back in the door. “Touch her and I swear to God, I’ll castrate you with my bare hands. You’ve done enough, now get the fuck out.”

  “This is my client!” Patrick shrieked, his cheeks reddening in his anger.

  “And this is my kid. Now get out.” Charlie pointed at the door. “Or do I need to get someone to remove you?”

  Patrick pointed at me, his finger trembling. “You’ll regret this, you little bitch. I’ll give you a few days to get your shit together. Call me when you’re ready to be reasonable.” He swept out the door and Charlie closed it behind him.

  “Jesus Christ, kid, that’s what you’ve been dealing with for five years? I’d be a mess too.” He came to the side of the bed and gently brushed my hair out of my face.

  “Thanks for sticking up for me, Charlie, you’ve been the only one in my life who ever did. You made me stop with Peter and get my life together, and I feel like you just did the same thing with Patrick. Thank you.” Catching his hand, I squeezed it gently. My lashes fluttered closed and I whispered, “I just want to go home. I’m so tired.”

  “We’ll take you home, honey,” he promised me. I slept.

  Sometime later that night, I was discharged with strict orders to go home and rest. We had a long drive, but Charlie told me I could sleep the whole way. Carter met us at the door of the hospital, and he helped me load into the car. I slept more. For days I slept.

  I’d wake up just long enough to eat a few bites of food, drink a little water, go to the bathroom, then I’d crash out again. On the second day, my father had come to my room. Charlie let him inside, thinking he was actually there because he cared.

  “Bri,” he called, shaking me awake.

  “What?” I grumbled sleepily, opening my eyes to the dusky room. “Father?”

  “Are you home for good?” he asked, and I nodded.

  “I think so.” Yawning, I struggled to sit up. “Why are you here?”

  “Can’t a father check on his daughter?” he snapped.

  Rolling my eyes, I pushed myself to sitting. “If we had a father/daughter relationship, I’d say yes, but what are you here for?”

  “Maybe you’re a little like me after all. Short and to the point. I like that. I’ve always been proud of you, you know…” he started and I held up a hand.

  “Don’t lie to me. You’ve always hated me and I knew it. What do you want? Just ask me, don’t beat around the bush and tell me pretty stories.”

  He scratched at his cheek and shrugged. “I need some money. I’m in debt.”

  “What kind of debt?” I asked.

  “Gambling. I owe a few people some money and I need to get it paid back. Then when I hit big on the tracks next week, I can pay you back. Please, baby?”

  My stomach turned and I shook my head. “No.” He hadn’t cared for twenty-three years, and he only cared now because he thought he could get money from me. I was worth more than conditional attention. I’d learned that much in rehab.

  “No?” he growled. “You’re telling me no?”

  “I’m not giving you money for your addiction. No. Plain and simple.”

  “You’ve always thought so highly of yourself…if I hadn’t sent you to Washington, you wouldn’t even be famous,” he started and I snapped.

  “No, I actually haven’t. I always felt like I was the worst, so I pretended I was the best, so no one knew how much I was hurting. How badly I was drowning. How much it killed me to see you starting a new fucking family and forgetting your firstborn because you really hated me all along. However, now I know I have worth, and I’m not going to give you money. Not because I hate you, but because I feel sorry for you. You once let me and Mom go sleep in a ratty motel so your new whore could move in. Has she left you too?”

  He blinked. “I can’t believe you’re talking to me like this. I gave you life. I’m your father.”

  “You provided sperm to fertilize an egg. That doesn’t make you a father. That makes you a sperm donor. A father cares. A father goes to a shitty apartment in the hood to rescue their daughter. He buys them kale and worries if they’re okay. He doesn’t come to beg for money and pretend he gives a fuck. So why don’t you take your sorry, pathetic ass out of here? My father’s already in this house, and it’s never been you.”

  “You’ll regret this,” he whispered.

  “I regret many things in my life, Ed, but telling you to go to hell isn’t one of them.”

  “Fine, if that’s what you want. You’re so much like your mother…”

  “I take that as a compliment. Please leave, I need sleep.” My voice wavered and I collapsed back on my pillows as he slammed my door.

  It was past time I stood up for myself. My eyes slid closed and I smiled. I’m worthy of real love.

  After another day of sleep, I finally felt refreshed enough to wake up in the middle of the afternoon and crawl downstairs. I wanted coffee, and yogurt if we had any.

  Puttering around the kitchen, I started coffee and searched the refrigerator, coming up empty for yogurt, but I found pudding instead. Close enough, I decided, pulling open the lid of the butterscotch pudding and dipping my finger into it. Tasting the pudding, I wrinkled
my nose. It was gross. Tossing it into the trashcan, I waited for my coffee to finish. I guessed Charlie had gone to the store. I vaguely remembered him coming to ask me if I wanted anything. I wanted kale, to make kale chips. A car pulled into the drive and I peeked between the yellowing lace curtains to see Carter opening his door and stepping out of the car.

  My heart tripped and I moved to the door to open it as he knocked. “Brielle! You’re awake.”

  God, he looked delicious. Late afternoon sunlight bounced off his hair and made his eyes sparkle. He was too pretty for his own good. That’s when I noticed a bruise on his cheek, marring his perfect face. “Barely. The sun burns. Get inside. I need coffee. What’s with your face?” I shuffled to the kitchen and he followed behind me closely. When I stopped, he bumped into me. I admit, I enjoyed it.

  “Sorry. I dropped a wrench on my face.”

  “Good job, genius. Don’t hover. I hate it. Sit down.” I pointed at the chair.

  “Where’s Dad?” he asked.

  “Store. Getting me kale.”

  “What’s with you and kale?” Carter chuckled.

  “I like it. I’m vegetarian these days.”

  “Oh. I read about your syndrome.”

  Glancing over my shoulder, I shrugged. “Okay?”

  “I’m scared.”

  “You’re scared?” I snorted, sitting down across from him with a cup of coffee. “You’re not the one hibernating like a bear.”

  “Are the doctors sure this is what’s going on? I can’t imagine someone who is twenty-three having something like this.”

  Laughing, I shook my head. “You’re never too young to be sick. I didn’t take care of my body when I was growing up and now I’m paying for it. Did you know that by the time I was thirteen I was doing drugs?”

  He gaped at me in shock. “What?”

  It was past time for me to come clean. He would either still love me or not, but he had to know who I used to be and why I wasn’t her anymore. “Party drugs mostly. Remember the night I got raped?”

  He nodded. “I’ll never forget.”

  “I had taken ecstasy and then I was roofied. I’m lucky I didn’t die.”