One Step Closer: A stepbrother, stand-alone novel.

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One Step Closer: A stepbrother, stand-alone novel. Page 23

by Kahlen Aymes


  He closed the car door in her face before she could say another word and then used the flat of his hand to pound on the roof of the car, signaling Jared to go.

  Caleb shoved both hands into the pockets of his slacks as he watched the car pull out of the driveway. He inhaled as deeply as he could, trying to release some of the deep-seated anger boiling inside him. He hated Veronica as much as he ever did. His father’s one hundred dollar bequest would stop any monetary claims on the estate, but that didn’t mean Wren wouldn’t suffer from a lifetime of wheedling from that bitch. He felt sure this was only the beginning.

  His mind was working at the speed of light, and Caleb knew exactly what he had to do.

  WREN RETREATED TO HER rooms after she was sure Jonesy didn’t need any more help cleaning up.

  Most of the mourners were gone, with only a few left in the den still talking with Caleb and Jonathan. She could only assume it had to do with the company. It was a massive undertaking and she was curious what Caleb was going to do. Would he move to Denver to assume control, or be silent partner, letting the suits handle the day-to-day operations?

  She wanted to spend some time with Caleb so she could be sure of his plans. He’d been monopolized for the two hours since they’d returned from the wake, and given Macy’s disappearance this evening, she was certain she would demand the small amount of free time Caleb would have the following day.

  She hoped the other girl was feeling better, but Wren didn’t feel like going to her room to check on her. Macy had been standoffish at the wake, and Wren could only assume it was because she was still upset that Caleb helped her pick out her shoes rather than the sightseeing expedition that the other woman wanted. One thing was certain; the two would never be good friends.

  She sighed as she took off the scarf and kicked off her shoes, leaving them lay where they landed on the area rug near her bed. She didn’t have the energy to be tidy; her eyes were tired from crying and her heart was heavy. She was sad that Edison was gone, but sadder because after the funeral was over, there would be no more reason to stay. Her time with Caleb would be over soon and she wanted every precious second she could manage with him.

  She wanted a bath; hoping the hot water would soothe away the tension in her back and shoulders. The sadness she was feeling was only getting worse and nothing would ease it. Distance and time would make it less intrusive, but there would always be that subdued sorrow that never went away. The hole that Caleb’s absence left in her life created emptiness inside her chest that would always stay with her. She’d given up hope that it would ease long ago. It was part of her.

  She struggled to unzip the dress by herself, bending her arms unnaturally behind her back to get it done. Finally, it was hanging up in the closet next to the new jacket she would wear with it, and she sat on the edge of the porcelain tub adjusting the water temperature. She plugged the tub and then added some softly scented bath salts that were part of the exclusive Lux line.

  She stared at herself critically in the mirror as she removed the black lace lingerie. When she was completely naked, she couldn’t help but compare herself to Macy whose curves were much more voluptuous and womanly. She ran her hands down her slender body. Her waist and breasts were small, and her pelvic bones were visible due to the concave curve of her stomach. She was muscular and had soft curves, but nothing like Macy, and Macy was the type Caleb liked, she thought dejectedly. In high school, the prettiest and sexiest girls were always around him. Some of her old insecurities crept in and she worked to push them away.

  Her gaze moved upward over her perky breasts, collar bones and neck toward her face as steam started to fog over the mirror. That face. It had been the bane of her existence growing up. She slid her fingers over her cheek and jaw.

  She swallowed at the pain building in her throat. Her face and the thick, long blonde curls were beautiful. Caleb said so. Despite the many times her mother had told her she was ugly, stupid or untalented, Caleb belied it and with his help she came to believe it. Her eyes were clear and blue; glistening with unshed tears, and mirrored the deep sorrow she felt. Wren tried to ignore the pain rising up in her throat.

  Her mother was a model and so naturally, her daughter shared her beauty. She’d hated the way she looked because her mother hated it. There wasn’t a day she could remember after the age of eleven that Veronica didn’t berate her with words so harsh no child should hear from anyone, let alone her mother.

  The emotional pain had been unbearable. Wren could pinpoint her mother’s pivot to horrible to a day when one of Veronica’s string of many boyfriends told Wren she was beautiful and that she’d grow up to be even prettier than her mother.

  Something had snapped inside Veronica and in that moment, Wren’s life changed for the worse. Her ballet classes were suddenly discontinued, she wasn’t allowed to see friends, and her mother stopped being her mother. Everything she ate or said was ridiculed, the way she walked or wore her hair; criticized. Veronica did everything she could to make Wren feel ugly, worthless and miserable.

  Her mind flashed to the many times when the emotional pain became more than she could handle, she’d resorted to cutting herself with razor blades or kitchen knives. Physical pain was easier to bear.

  Until she learned to layer her face in pale foundation and darken her eyes with too much dark eye shadow, and added the awful black wig until she was basically unrecognizable. Her mother hadn’t commented on the change but a miracle happened; the abuse reduced and Veronica basically forgot she was alive. It was lonely, but it was a better existence. It didn’t matter that the kids at school were cruel about the way she looked; the trade off at home was worth it.

  Wren sucked in a deep breath at the memories. She hid who she really was from everyone, including herself, until the night Caleb needed her to take care of him. His reaction had been powerful and he’d insisted she lose the disguise. She’d been scared, but she trusted him, and though Veronica’s hateful behavior resumed, Caleb always stood between them, but he’d helped her much more than that.

  She turned her wrist over and gazed down at the tattoo and tears filled her eyes. Caleb, Caleb, Caleb… his name resonated in her head. He’d stood between her and anything that could hurt her. She closed her eyes tightly, willing herself not to cry. She’d hoped they would reconcile to the point they could be in contact again, but now with Macy in his life, it might not be possible. Her heart was breaking and against her will, one fat tear squeezed from each eye. She shook her head, angry at her weakness, using both hands to wipe them away.

  “Stop it,” she commanded herself. Caleb might be a knight in shining armor but he wasn’t hers anymore, and it was time she face it. Wren quickly pulled her hair up into a loose bun on top of her head, and stepped into the hot bath. The water was steaming and she had to sink in slowly. The tub was deep and comfortably sloped, and outfitted with twelve Jacuzzi jets that she decided to turn them on when the tub was full. She leaned back, closed her eyes and willed herself to relax.

  The water was silky soft and felt amazing. Music was playing in her bedroom but was muffled by the closed door. Wren could hear the soft notes and she started to hum softly with the muted song. It was late and the bath would relax her so she could sleep.

  The door to the bathroom burst open and the volume of the song suddenly increased. Wren’s eyes flew open and she gasped as she quickly sat up. “What the hell?”

  Macy was leaning casually against the marble vanity glaring down at Wren’s naked body.

  “Humph!” she snorted. “Looking at you, I can’t imagine why I’m even worried. Don’t even think about wheedling your way in between Caleb and me. He’s mine now, so don’t be getting any ideas.” She wagged a finger at Wren.

  Wren instinctively covered her nakedness with her hands. “Why do you think you can just waltz in here whenever you want?” she said indignantly. “Get out! And take your threats with you. How dare you invade my private room?”

  Macy was dressed
in an expensive silk negligée in fuchsia silk. Wren’s eyes widened at its gaudiness. The towel she wanted was sitting on the upholstered bench on wall beneath the window.

  Seeing the direction of Wren’s gaze, Macy raced to pick it up. She held it in her hands as her gaze narrowed on Wren. “Where Caleb is concerned, I dare any damn thing I want! Why are you mooning over him like a twelve-year old schoolgirl? It’s gross anyway! He’s your brother,” she said in avid disgust.

  Wren’s skin flushed as she sat in the tub, her knees drawn up and her arms covering her breasts. “Get out!” she demanded again. “Or, give me a damn towel!”

  Macy’s face split into a nasty grin. “Not a chance. You’re gonna listen to what I have to say. If you think you can come in here, bat your baby blues and have him on his hands and knees, think again!” Her tone was menacing and her nostrils flared.

  Wren didn’t think she’d ever hate another woman more than she did her mother, but Macy was running a close second. However, if Caleb really did love her, Wren didn’t want to cause him problems, no matter her own feelings.

  “I’m not mooning over him. It’s really not like that,” Wren said evenly, shaking her head. It wasn’t easy; Macy’s words cut her to the bone, but she’d be damned if she’d give her the satisfaction of seeing her crumble. “I want him to be happy.”

  “How cute,” Macy leered.

  Wren realized that if she just let Macy say what she came to say, maybe the other woman would leave her in peace. “Can you let me get dressed and then we can talk? I’m getting cold.”

  Macy regarded Wren with guarded eyes, and Wren, now without the complete coverage of the water started to shiver.

  “Boohoo.” Macy folded her arms around the towel, completely ignoring Wren’s request. “I see the way you look at him. He feels sorry for you, so don’t mistake the obligation he feels toward you for more.”

  Wren bristled. “I don’t. Give me the towel!” she commanded.

  Macy looked at Wren with pure, unadulterated hatred. “I’ll leave, but just one more thing… give his mother’s locket back! He’s too much of a gentleman to ask for it, but he wants me to have it. He told me some sob story about why he gave it to you, but it wasn’t supposed to be forever.”

  Wren’s jaw jutted out indignantly as Macy’s vapid demand landed. Direct hit. Her eyes started to sting and she began to tremble, as the air in her lungs left in a whoosh. Caleb hadn’t asked her for it in all the years since he’d given it to her, and it never occurred to her to give it back. She couldn’t believe he would be so heartless in telling Macy the circumstances around it; not after their morning together. Her heart started to pound in her chest and she could feel the heat of embarrassment begin to creep into her cheeks.

  Macy made no move to leave, and Wren had had enough. She no longer gave a damn about modesty. She stood up abruptly in the tub and the now tepid water rushed down her bare skin; some of it splashing onto the marble floor and the plush throw rug that lay by the tub. Lunging at Macy, Wren’s hands fisted around the towel as she yanked with all her strength. A corner of it dropped into the water, but she didn’t care.

  She managed to pry it loose, but the momentum and the slippery floor sent her sprawling. She landed with a hard thud on her left hip and elbow. She’d be bruised for sure. “Uhhhh,” she moaned in pain.

  “If this is how graceful you are on stage, it’s my advice to get a new job,” Macy said sarcastically. “Cale doesn’t like mewling little girls, so don’t go running to him. He wants a real woman.”

  Wren’s heart seized in pain; the fact that Macy was calling him Cale only made her burn with jealousy. She managed to rise to her feet and face Macy. She was hurt and furious, her body was throbbing from her fall and the insults left her emotions raw. She held the half-dripping towel in front of her with her left hand, but it didn’t cover much. She pulled her right arm back and landed a full palm slap to Macy’s face with all her might. The contact of skin on skin made a loud pop in the confines of the bathroom that echoed off the marble walls.

  Macy’s hand flew to her cheek as she stepped back in surprise. “How dare you!”

  “You didn’t expect that, did you? Get the hell out of here, right now!” Wren was seething, and frustrated tears filled her eyes as she railed at Macy. “Cale has enough to deal with, so don’t you dare mention this to him, because if he asks me about it, I’ll tell him the truth! He’s had my back since I was fourteen, and he knows me better than he’ll ever know you. I’ve never lied to him and he won’t doubt me. Now get out!”

  Wren whisked past the stunned woman into the attached bedroom, throwing down the towel and quickly pulling on some old grey sweatpants and a long sleeve T-shirt. She whirled on Macy, her chest heaving. “I might be smaller than you, but I promise I’m stronger! I said get out of here! Now!” she almost screamed.

  Macy was still stunned by Wren’s unexpected bravado, and walked quickly from the room; still holding her face.

  When Wren was alone, she bounded forward, slammed the door, and then fell to her knees as furious sobs overtook her. She couldn’t breathe and she couldn’t see beyond the tears raining from her eyes.

  She was heartbroken.

  Macy would make it impossible for her to have any kind of relationship with Caleb in the future. It would be more than distance that would separate them and that filled her with unspeakable remorse.

  Could he really have said those awful things about her? Did he really want to give the locket to Macy? She was going to lose it; her chest and emotions were about to explode. She got up and ran from her room, down the stairs, and out the back door. The night was breezy as she ran to the pool house; praying it had been left unlocked. She needed to be alone so she could come to terms with the future, cry her heart out, and Caleb wouldn’t be the wiser.

  The pool house was the place Caleb said goodbye to her when he left for MIT years ago, and she gravitated toward it without even thinking. She couldn’t bear the thought of life without him in it. It was one thing to live without him on a day-to-day basis… but how would she cope without the possibility of knowing him at all?

  ***

  CALEB COULDN’T SLEEP. He’d given up after nearly an hour of trying.

  Whapp! Whapp! Whapp! The sounds of his gloved fists hitting the cylindrical bag in the workout room was punctuated by his guttural grunts as he put all of his frustration and strength into it. He couldn’t beat the shit out of Veronica, so the bag would have to do.

  He tried to process the many emotions running through him. He was livid that Veronica had dared to show up at the house, and was worried sick that Wren would somehow fall apart when faced with that hag. The reading of the will and the logistics of moving to Denver, all had his guts tied up in knots.

  He couldn’t know how Wren would react to the inheritance being split, then being tied to him for at least five years. Part of him felt guilty about his decision. He knew that she had her own life to live, and he was honest enough with himself to admit that this was a selfish decision. He wanted a chance with Wren. The chance he’d foolishly thrown away nearly four years earlier when he’d slunk away like a coward after he’d made love to her. He hit the bag harder and harder, willing the conflict to leave his mind and heart.

  “Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!” The sound of his exertion and aggression against the leather bag filled the glass-enclosed room. Perspiration was beading on his body and face due to his exertion.

  He stopped and bent at the waist, breathing hard. He straightened and used one of the short sleeves of his T-shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow as it threatened to drip into his eyes. His teeth pulled at the Velcro closing of his boxing gloves one after the other, so he could remove them. He’d had enough for the night.

  The muscles in his arms and shoulders were swollen and bulging from the workout, and his legs felt like jelly. He didn’t know how long he’d been at it, but it had to be more than an hour. He hung up the gloves, kicked off his shoes, and then grabbed
one of the small towels. He began to wipe down the back of his neck, face and arms. He planned on hopping in the shower, but was badly in need of a drink of water first.

  The wet bar in the basement had an assortment of drinks, beer, soda and Perrier in the refrigerator, but no plain water, which was what he craved. His head fell back as he made the choice to go the kitchen. “Hell,” he murmured softly, resigned to making the trek upstairs.

  The towel now hung loosely around his neck, and he pulled one end of it up to dab at his forehead and eyes. His hair was plastered to his skin and he pushed it out of his eyes in irritation. The lights in the rest of the basement were off, but those illuminating the weight room were enough to see the furniture and the staircase.

  Once in the kitchen, he glanced at the clock on the microwave on his way to the refrigerator. It was well after 1 AM. He opened the big stainless steel door, and leaned in to search the contents on the shelves. There were several containers of leftovers from earlier and half a dozen glass bottles of Voss water lined up on the top shelf. Caleb reached for one and was unscrewing the lid and chugging it down before the door to the refrigerator closed. God bless, Jonesy, he thought. It was his favorite brand. His head was back as he gulped it down; the cool, refreshing liquid was running down his throat when he heard the sound of the back door to the deck slide open and the low tones of a woman softly crying.

  His head snapped up; his hand still closed around the almost empty bottle. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his wrist.

  “Wren?” he called softly. “Wren?” Caleb’s brow furrowed in concern.

  The door shut with a quiet slide and soft click, and panic struck him. It had to be her. The crying belied that it was an intruder. The community was gated and guarded, and the property had it’s own security, but he was still freaking out with worry. He set the bottle down, and moved toward the door. His protective instincts insisted he had to find out if she was okay and the reason she was in tears. The day had been long and it could be expected that she was feeling overwhelmed.

 

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