Own (Need #3)

by K. I. Lynn

  The post is even more popular than her previous one. Hundreds of comments filled with people wanting to know who she’s talking about. There’s no response from her, no replies. Her silence riles the crowd even more.

  But she doesn’t want to look like a fool with no proof. That, and naming Brayden will only hurt her goal of having him all to herself.

  “Tell us!”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Damn, girl, you’re such a gossip tease!”

  Gossip tease . . . More like gossip bitch. Based on her posts, I’d bet money she’s spreading rumors on the down low.

  How many know?

  My hands begin to shake, no longer able to hold the phone. How many people has she named us to?

  I sit back, Jenna’s voice barely in the background on the phone that’s now sitting in my lap.

  I want to tell Brayden, run into his arms. At the same time, I don’t. So much is going on with him.

  He knows about the first post, knows Jenn is doing this shit. This will throw him off the deep end, and his hot head will explode in a rampage that will only make things worse.

  Maybe I’m predicting him overreacting, but with his history, it’s not really a prediction, but what will happen.

  If she keeps talking, they’ll all know and everyone will know we’re having sex.

  I love Brayden, I do, but I don’t know how to handle this. We aren’t dating. We aren’t boyfriend and girlfriend.

  I don’t know what we are, because loving him doesn’t mean forgiving him.

  What I do know is that this is only the beginning. Jenn won’t stop, and we won’t ever be able to go out or have a normal relationship.

  Everything is still as complicated as before, maybe more so. A complicated mess we may never make it out of.

  The reminder of why I was in front of a judge and meeting with lawyers is marked all over my face. The swelling has receded, but the bruises are still there along with a few gashes that are healing.

  Austin was there, in the courtroom, his parents looking just as pissed off as my father who’s in the car ahead of us.

  I blow out a breath as we turn into the neighborhood. “Do we have to do this now?”

  Mom gives me the side-eye. She’s been stoic today and a buffer more than once between me and my father. “Brayden, my son, the light of my life . . . your ass is in trouble.” Fuck. “You’re twenty-one, very much an adult, and you need to get a handle on this anger inside you before you end up in some serious trouble.”

  Due to it being a first offence, neither of our lawyers has any belief there will be any jail time, for which I’m thankful, but we aren’t going to come out of this ordeal completely unscathed. I’m very much aware that most of that damage will come from the man in front of us.

  Community service, fines, probation; whatever the judge throws at me will be nothing compared to the shitstorm that’s coming.

  My whole body is poised for the fight, fists clenching on my thighs. I’ve been in defense mode ever since I parked in front of his house this morning.

  Seeing Kira would really help, but I don’t want her caught in the vile muck he’s going to spit. One nasty word to her or about her and I will have him on the floor in seconds. He lost my respect long ago and I will not allow him to insult the woman I love.

  The woman I love.

  It’s still a string of foreign words, strange to my own mind, but every time I say it my heart feels like it’s going to explode. The energy that courses through me, giving me more strength than I ever thought possible, and it’s all due to the connection I’ve had to her since we met.

  I would give up everything I have, everything I am, my very life, for her.

  Which often leads to less than rational thinking.

  Mom pulls in behind my car in front of the house and puts it in park. “We’re going to go in there and attempt to have an adult conversation.” She reaches for my hand and I look at her when she squeezes down. “I don’t want you to worry about anything. We’ll figure it out. Just . . . don’t hit him. He’s going to bait you, it’s what he does. Don’t make it worse.”

  I nod, peering through the glass to the asshole staring us down. “I’ll try, but he knows you and Kira are my weak spots.”

  She pats my hand and pulls the keys from the ignition. “Count to ten. I hear that helps. At least that’s what our therapist used to say.”

  I can’t help but let out a little chuckle at that as I climb out, which only makes my father’s glare deepen before he turns to head inside.

  It’s still normal for me to walk in through the garage, but I glance back to my mom to check on her. Years have passed since she was last within these toxic walls. In fact, the last time I can remember was about six months after their divorce.

  The house that they picked out together.

  I know there’s no lost love between them, but after everything, I’m left wondering what she feels.

  Her eyes scan as she walks through, noting the differences, I’m certain, the changes.

  When we enter the living room, the bastard and Sonia sit on the couch, on opposite ends, while Mom and I take the chairs facing them.

  “A fucking misdemeanor,” he says, wasting no time digging in. “You’re damn lucky the judge went easy and didn’t charge you with a felony.” He looks at me like he’s waiting for a response, but I have none for him. “Why the fuck you keep trying to ruin your life is beyond my comprehension.”

  One . . . Two . . . Three . . . Four . . .

  “If you expect me to pay for this legal mess you’ve gotten yourself into, you can—”

  “I’m going to stop you there,” Mom cuts him off. “He will handle the fees.”

  “And how is he going to do that? It’s my money he drains monthly.”

  Five . . . Six . . . Seven . . .

  “He’s been working a lot this summer, if you haven’t noticed.”

  Dad scoffs and I start my counting back at one, nails digging into my palms.

  Our eyes meet, his lip curling up into a sneer. “What I’ve seen him working isn’t a job.”

  I’m to my feet before he can say another word, but my mom’s hand around my wrist keeps me in place.

  Same green eyes lock, boiling over with the same explosive energy. Then there’s the sneer that only grows.

  One, two, three, four, five, six.

  “Stop baiting him, Steven,” Sonia says, speaking for almost the first time in hours.

  He sure has beaten her down—yet another reason to hate him. Another victim of his callous ways.

  “Stay out of this, Sonia,” he snaps.

  She glares back at him. “We’re here to talk about what’s next, not to watch you try and prove you’re the alpha.”

  “You’ll fucking stay out of this. It’s between me and my son.”

  Onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnine.

  “No, Steven,” Mom says through gritted teeth, her grip on my wrist tightening as my body leans in to attack the asshole in the room. “It’s between all of us and our son, you misogynistic bastard.”

  “Oh, Abigail, you’re wrong on that word. I don’t hate women. You more than anyone know how much I love women.”

  Sonia gasps and glares at him.

  “I know how much your dick does. How many lovers do you have right now?” Mom asks.

  He’s on his feet, finger pointed at her with a look of murder on his face. “You zip your damn bitch lips.”

  “Make me.”

  He steps toward her and I move between them. “Fucking cunt. Always such a filthy, aggravating mouth spitting words, making me want to slap you.”

  I push against his chest, making him stumble back. “Shut the fuck up, you pathetic piece of shit!”

  My anger is held on by only the smallest thread. Muscles so tense, ready to unload years of rage on him.

  “So he can speak! Tell me, son, is the pussy worth all the trouble?”

  Red. All I can see is him cov
ered in red.

  Counting to ten isn’t going to cool me down. Only him bloody on the floor will.

  “Enough!” Sonia pushes against us.

  I resist, but it doesn’t last long, and we both sit back down.

  “Thank you, Sonia.” Mom gives her a warm, genuine smile. I know she can see it, what he’s done to her. “Brayden, why don’t you go get a drink or something?”

  My father shakes his head. “He’s not going anywhere.”

  “He is, because we have a few things that have to be worked out.”

  “Like how he’s not welcome here anymore?”

  “Like how he will continue to have a room here for whenever he needs until he finishes school. How you will continue to comply with our divorce agreement and pay for college and his apartment.”

  Dad shakes his head. “No.”

  “Yes, or I’ll sue you for contempt.”

  He mashes his teeth, glaring at her, while I dare him to say one more thing to her.

  I haven’t moved, waiting. Trying to hold everything down to get through this.

  Where’s Kira? Why isn’t she coming down? Is she here? Fuck, I could use her presence right now, but at the same time not. Just him looking at her and he’s dead. I can’t even stand the fact that she has to share space with him.

  “Fine, but per the decree, I’m only paying for the remainder of his undergrad. If he wants to pursue a Master’s degree, that’s on his dime. And I’m not paying for any of the legal fees for this shit.”

  Mom stares up at him, cool as can be. “We will split the bill.”

  “The hell we will!” He’s practically snarling, but she refuses to back down.

  “Do I need to remind you that you owe me, Steven?”

  Everything stops and I turn to look at her. What is she talking about? And is it something I can use to bring him down? To free us all from him.

  He’s shooting daggers at my mom while Sonia’s brow is scrunched. Whatever my mom is alluding to, Sonia is unaware of it.

  “Half,” he growls out, lips twitching.

  His response is baffling and surprising on a level I wasn’t expecting. Relenting to her not once, but twice?

  My mom rocks. She’s sitting across from him with an aura of confidence and a gotcha smirk.

  “To recap, then. Brayden will continue to come back here when he needs and you will welcome your child. You will continue to pay for his college expenses, including tuition and room and board. You will also pay half of his legal fees.”

  Everyone is staring at him in the strained silence. His response will dictate if he gets my fist to his face or if I will continue to behave for my mother’s sake.

  “Yes.” It’s a begrudging response, but clear.

  I blow out a breath. At least some pressure and worry is taken off my shoulders.

  He moves to stand, but Mom stops him. “One more thing, Steven.” Her tone is sweet, but I know her. “Stop trying to bait him. This may be your house and your rules and whatnot, but try to remember he’s your son. If you push him too far, I will be forced to dig up skeletons I know you want to remain buried.”

  His eyes widen, fists clenched so tight his arms are shaking. “I’m sure you remember where the door is, Abby.”

  She gives him a smile and moves to collect her purse before standing. “Sonia, if you ever need anyone to talk to, you know how to get ahold of me.”

  “Abigail! Get out. Now.”

  Sonia’s gaze flickers between the two of them. “It was nice to see you again.”

  I follow behind Mom as she heads to the front door and away from the bomb. I’m still ticking, doing my count, but seeing her put him in his place is the only reason I’m still counting numbers and not the amount of times my fist met his face.

  The second we’re out the door and out of earshot the main question demanding to be let out pops. “What the hell happened back there?”

  “I put your father in his place. He needs to remember his record isn’t as spotless as he’d like.”

  “What did he do?”

  She stops and turns to look at me. “I’m sure you know your father is far from perfect.”

  I nod. “But what do you have on him to make him relent to everything?”

  “He may have relented only because I was there, so don’t think he won’t continue on fighting with you. Unfortunately, I may have just made your relationship worse.”

  “There’s no way it could get worse,” I say.

  “Perhaps.” She glances back at the house, then locks eyes with me. “I need you to promise me a few things.”

  I nod. “Anything.”

  “If he starts to come at you, leave.”

  “Okay.”

  “Oh, that’s not all, my son.” She shakes her head. “You’ve made a real mess. No more fighting. Period. You’re a hothead, just like him, and you’re passionate about those you love, just like me. Next thing is school. Kira will be there, but if your grades slide, even a little, my financial support of your Master’s degree will slide, too.”

  My mouth drops open. “You can’t afford that.”

  “You don’t know my financial situation, and yes, I can. Though you will need to pitch in as well, even if it’s just student loans that you will pay off.”

  “Thank you, Mom.”

  “Thank me by making this a one time thing and making it through the next ten months without engaging in battle with your dad. Oh, and also by not getting Kira knocked up.”

  “Mom!”

  She holds her hands up. “I’m just saying. She’s only eighteen and I hope you two are using protection. I want grandkids one day, but not yet. I’m only forty-three.”

  I sigh. “Yes, we are.”

  She gives me a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Instead, her brow furrows. It’s like she’s warring with herself.

  “What?” I ask, suddenly worried.

  “Take a drive with me.”

  She turns back to her car and I follow. The curiosity is strong, but there’s also an anxiety fueled vice tightening around my chest. My mom isn’t like this.

  We pull away in silence, but there’s a definite tension in the air.

  “Mom, you’re scaring me.”

  As we turn onto the on ramp for the interstate she lets out a loud sigh.

  “Baby, I need to tell you something, but it’s not easy. It’s not even something I can prove, but it is what stopped your father, which makes me believe even more that it’s true.”

  “Okay . . .”

  “You know your father cheated on me, just as I’m certain he’s cheating on Sonia.”

  I mash my teeth. “Yeah, he’s a fucking bastard.”

  “One time, at the last Hunt family reunion we went to as a family. When we left at the end of the night, I was pretty sure he’d been going at it with a woman there. I could smell her on him.”

  The blood in my veins freezes and I turn to look at her. The story has my full and complete attention. I see a trainwreck coming, but I’m not sure of the outcome.

  “That was when the fighting got really bad. I tried to make our marriage work, to keep us together as a family.”

  “I get it. You told me a few years ago.”

  “Anyway, a few months ago a woman and her daughter, who’s about eleven, came into the office. She recognized me right away as Steven’s wife, even though I don’t think we were ever introduced. Turns out she is his first cousin, the daughter of your dad’s Aunt Ellen.”

  My stomach drops and I have a feeling I know where this is going, but as my fingers tighten around the handle on the armrest, I plead that it won’t be what I fear.

  She glances to me and I can see how hard it is for her to say it.

  “Just tell me,” I grit out.

  “When I looked at the little girl, she smiled at me, her eyes a beautiful, glowing green. The same color as yours. The same as your father’s.”

  I’m shaking, trying to wrap my head around it all.


  I swallow hard. “Do I have a sister?”

  “I’m pretty sure you do.”

  I mash my teeth together, fists clenched. Fucking asshole. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Brayden, I have no proof other than what your cousin told me.”

  Jesus, what she said hits my brain and finally connects. The woman he fucked was his cousin, which means the mother of my sister is also my cousin.

  And the motherfucker tells me being with Kira is disgusting? I want to tell my mom to pull over so I can vomit.

  “What did she say?”

  “It was hard to find a tactful way to ask, but she did name Steven as the father.” She lets out a tense breath and I glance over. Her brow is scrunched, knuckles white around the steering wheel. “She was in tears as she told me. Her parents disowned her, threw her out. She said Steven refuses to acknowledge the child is his or to help in any way, and the poor woman is barely making it.”

  “Motherfucker.” I want to beat his face in even more now. How could he? “But for months you’ve known and never mentioned it to me.”

  “Other than a stranger’s word and your father’s ‘you don’t have any proof’ denial and refusal to take a paternity test, what do I have other than a theory?”

  “But you believe her? You believe that the little girl is my sister?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  She lets out a sigh. “Because she looks just like him.”

  Just like him.

  Just like him and he won’t take responsibility? He fucked a girl, while married, and refused to acknowledge he had a kid with her.

  How many others are there? Do I have more siblings hiding in his closet of secrets? He’s fucked more women than I know, so there could be half a dozen others out there. Younger and older.

  The high school flashes in the window and I realize we’ve turned around, only a few miles out from the house. Silence continues and I try to process it all. I need to see for myself, meet her.

  My sister.

  “Brayden, what are you thinking?” Mom asks as we pull onto the street.

  I shake my head. “I want to punch him, kick him in the nuts until he can’t procreate anymore.”

  “Brayden . . .” she trails off as we pull up to the house. The car rocks to a stop and as she turns toward me I shake my head.