by K. I. Lynn
In one day, any lasting grievance I had against my stepmother evaporated. She’s another victim. It’s too obvious.
Living with him for years between when Mom moved out and Sonia moved in, I knew his routine, even when he had a tart on the side. I didn’t realize it at first, but once I found out he was cheating, the pattern became abundantly clear.
Even after years, it hasn’t changed. What seems like a normal, average day to Sonia, I know to be him having an affair.
“Why did you move everything out if you’re still going to stay there from time to time?”
“Because I don’t trust that bastard not to just throw all my stuff out.” I trust him with nothing and nobody. Before I graduate, things are going to change, and I plan to never see him again.
“True.” His head shakes from side to side. “I can’t imagine treating my child the way he does you, his only child.”
I have to stop myself from correcting him, from letting my bestfriend know the skeleton in my father’s closet. There’s more than just me walking around with his green eyes.
“Child? Is there something you need to tell me?” I quirk my brow, hoping his over perceptive nature didn’t notice my pause.
“Fuck no.”
“Sounds like you’ve got babies on the brain.”
He glares at me. “Just because I like to come in my girl without a condom doesn’t mean I’m in any way ready for kids.”
I blow out a breath, my lips quirking as I try to not get hard as I think about being inside Kira without one. “I never knew bareback felt so fucking good. I praise whoever created birth control.”
All humor drops from Ryan’s face. “Dude . . . no. Shut the fuck up right now. We’ve talked about this. I don’t want to know the perverted stuff you do to my little baby sister.”
I laugh and shake my head. “I didn’t even allude to her.”
“Deduction. Your ass is so paranoid about VD’s and girls who want your baby I know you’ve never fucked any without one. Which only leads to one conclusion of how you’ve made this rubber free discovery.”
“You could just not always jump to her when we’re talking about sex.”
His gaze narrows on me. “Why the fuck would you ever talk about sex with another woman?”
I throw my hands up in the air and back away. Last thing I need is his fist on my still fucked up face. “I’m fucking damned if I do, damned if I don’t here, man. Sex with all the women before her was just a way to get off. Sex with her is like ascending to the erotic heavens where all my dreams come true.”
Ryan just stares at me before unfreezing and returning the photo to the box. “So Dana and I were thinking of going to Kings Island one last time before school starts back up, you in?”
“Way to segue.”
“Hey, I let you be with my sister, but that doesn’t mean I want to hear about it.”
“I’m grateful and thankful for your approval. I didn’t want to end our friendship, because I was going to be with her regardless of what you thought.”
He shakes his head and smirks. “Dude, I came to terms with it years before you ever realized you were in love with her. Besides, it’s not that easy to get rid of me.” Just then his phone goes off, his face lighting up as he looks down at the screen. “Hey baby . . . yeah, we got everything in. Where are you? Yeah, I’ll be right there.” He hangs up the phone and looks up. “What?”
“Not that easy to get rid of, huh?”
He lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “I’ve had enough of your ass today, time to get some ass from my girl.” One of his hands claps down on my arm. “If you need anything, I’m always here for you, bro. Just don’t call me for the next hour.”
I push his arm off and roll my eyes. “Get out of here, fucker.”
He just laughs and heads to the door, waving as it shuts. The moment he’s gone, the silence creeps in, almost suffocating and eerie.
Three hours. It’s only been three hours since I kissed her goodbye and it kills me. I don’t feel right, this place isn’t right, nothing is right without her.
Girl has turned me into such a pussy. So much so, that I can’t stop my fingers from texting her as I fall down to the couch.
I miss you.
Yeah, I’m that whipped. But I actually don’t mind. If being like this means I have her in my life, then I don’t give two fucks, because she’s mine.
Kira is mine.
It was a long, hard fought battle where I lost old friends, but having her by my side is everything.
Maybe not everything, but it’s a step toward the life I want to have with her.
It’s strange. My life is calm and chaotic at the same time. While everything is exploding around me, Kira is there. Like the eye of a hurricane, she’s the calm in the storm that is my life.
Every part of my being believes without a doubt that this shitstorm is necessary. That it will pass. There may be pieces to pick up after, but life will be the way it should be on the other end. We just have to weather the turbulence.
The phone goes off, pulling me from the melancholy attitude my mind had fallen into.
You just miss my pussy.
Her jab makes me laugh, but there’s also an underlying worry there. One way to find out. I type out a response, something to lighten it and see which way she was going with her comment.
Damn typing leaves out all emotion in the words. I feel like we’re still a bit on uneven ground, afraid she’s going to turn back after it took so long for her to come around.
I take offense to that.
A few minutes of flipping through channels until my phone pings with her response.
Aren’t you going to come back with some line like “Baby, I want you for more than just a lay.” Or some crappy line like that.
Again, I laugh, but the doubt does creep in. I used to be that guy, just not with the cliché lines. I’m not some club guy looking to get off.
I continue with my light hearted banter.
I’m offended again! I’m not a thesaurus for cheesy lines and crappy comebacks.
Her response is even faster, and I know I’ve finally got her full attention.
All right, hit me then.
Performance anxiety is something I don’t have an issue with, unless it’s talking about feelings.
Roses are red, violets are blue, I want to fuck your pussy, and you want me too.
It’s not smooth or eloquent or the slightest bit romantic, but they incite the intended reaction when I receive her next text.
Bwahahahaha! You aren’t right. You also need some better material if you expect to get a pussy with that.
I blow out a breath and relax. There’s my girl. Yeah, she was just playing with me, but being away from her amps up the insecurities that still linger.
Well, I don’t want any pussy, I just want one, that happens to be part of this sassy chick that likes to insult me and I just can’t get enough of her.
Not seconds later I get: Masochist.
Sad, but true. Only for you, baby. Everything I am, everything I have, is only for you. I want to give you the world, make you happier than you have ever dreamed you could be. Spend every day of the rest of my existence by your side.
It takes her longer to respond. No longer quick quips, which lets me know that one got to her, so I decide to dig in a little more and draw from some older material.
When you’re my girl, the sun will seem to have faded as it will be your light that guides me. When you’re my girl, there’s nothing I can’t do. When you’re my girl, our love will be told in history books as one of the greatest.
It’s all sappy as fuck, and I’m no romance guru, but I can’t deny the truth of the words. They are how I feel, in the gushiest, flowery way I can stomach to say them. She needs to see them, to be reminded that I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. That my track record does not define me. That I’ve always been hers.
Idiot.
At her response, I can imagine the pi
nk spreading against her skin, maybe even hiding her face. Embarrassment taking over her brain.
I decide then to lay it all out. To tell her those feelings that are so hard for me to voice.
When you’re my girl, I’ll tell you every day how much I love you, how much I can’t survive without you.
Silence.
I love you, Kira. Now and forever.
I don’t expect her to respond, and even less so that she’ll tell me she loves me. The past, our past, will stop her from saying the words, but I know them, even if she can’t voice them.
So Ryan ditched you for Dana, huh?
Texting isn’t going to work anymore. I need to hear her voice. She picks up before the first ring is even finished. “What makes you think that?” I ask.
“Because you’re bothering me,” she says.
“Am I really?”
A little laugh dances across the line. “No, but I was having dinner with Mom when you were texting.”
“My dad was missing, I take it?”
“Of course.”
“Fucker.”
“Did you get everything unpacked?” she asks.
I glance over to the wall and the stack of boxes and plastic containers. “Out of the car, yes. I’m not really sure what I’m going to do with it all.”
“What are you doing now? Since Ryan ditched you and all.”
I’m half tempted to tell her my plan. Fill her in on what I’ll be doing in the time I’m away from her. The urge is strong, but the want to protect her is stronger. The less she knows, the more evidence I can collect, the better her mom will be in the end.
“Are you okay?” she asks after I don’t answer. Apparently I spaced out longer than I realized.
Okay? Her question throws me, her voice soft, full of that concern she always showed from almost the moment we met. The same voice I made disappear for a while. She has no idea how much I love to hear it directed at me again.
“Tell me you miss me.” The words almost come out in a whisper. Hearing them will calm me. Hearing her say it will wipe away the doubt that’s crawling around me. Help to center me.
“Brayden?”
“Just . . . Please.”
She’s silent for a beat or two. “I do. I miss you.” Her voice is low, sad, and exactly what I needed. “The house is so empty without you here. I just want to get in the car and drive up. Lay on the couch with your arms around me and do nothing.”
“Do it.” I’ll beg if I have to.
“You know I can’t. There’s so much to do before I move.”
I rub my hands over my face.
This was the feeling I always avoided in the past. Getting close to anyone, having my life dictated by my emotions. Feelings that I never wanted to have.
Now, all I think about is Kira. There’s an itch, an annoying, desperate need to have her in my arms. Skin touching skin, even in the most PG of ways. An ache where I don’t feel complete unless she’s close.
Maybe that’s the feeling all those romantic movies she loves was trying to convey. Hollywood does a shit job showing just how crippling it is.
“Yeah.”
“Besides, I’ll be there all the time soon.”
All the time.
Yes. All the time.
“And you’ll stay with me, right?”
“Well, I’ll have to spend some time in the dorms, or we won’t get any work done, and remember what your mom said.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“As much as I can, I’ll be there.”
That’s what I needed. Confirmation.
There’s a commotion on the other end and I hear Sonia’s voice in the background, though I can’t make it out.
“Crap. I’m sorry, I have to go. I forgot we were going shopping after dinner. Someone kept distracting me.”
My lip twitches. “Distracting? Who would do such a thing?”
“Don’t play coy, you know you love creating distractions.”
“I’d create one right now with your clit if you were here.”
“There you go, trying to distract me again.” Sonia’s voice comes through again. “I really have to go.”
“Have fun.”
“I’ll call you later.” She makes a kissing sound and hangs up.
I miss her more now.
The void of her, of thinking that she’s there, with that man, sends me on a rollercoaster of emotions. From depression to anger, and the need to punch something. That wouldn’t be good.
Which reminds me, I have to call my lawyer in the morning. He called when we were unpacking the car. Probably has my hearing date.
Another thing I just can’t stand to think about. It just reminds me of Austin, and the feelings I know she has for him, even if they aren’t as strong as the ones she has for me.
There’s a storm that rages within me, working in tandem with the one on the outside. It’s black and violent. There’s a darkness creeping in. I can feel it. It is what fuels my every decision—good and bad.
It’s going to fuel the vindictive wave that wants to tear my father to pieces. I’m determined to watch his world crumble. As an adult I’ve seen just what kind of vile he is and it makes me sick to be associated with him, let alone have half of my DNA be his.
There’s nothing I can do about the latter, but help those who are the same. Make him pay for denying my sister recognition and support. He makes a shitty father, so she’s not missing out there.
It’s funny how I haven’t even met the girl and already I’m sure she’s my sister. Call it a gut feeling, whatever.
Mom is still working on arranging a meeting, but I’m sure in her belief that a little girl named Emily is my sister, and I’m going to make certain he owns up to what he did.
I open up my laptop and pull up the internet. My phone plan is with my mom, but it used to be with my dad, and knowing him, he hasn’t changed any of the passwords.
His is the lead number on the account, so only he has access to all the detailed information on the account, including call records.
Sonia can’t see who he’s called, but a few strokes of the keys and I’m in.
The man really does need to change his passwords more often. Five years with one is too long.
Since his number is primary, all of his information is easy access, including his call log. I quickly pull up an Excel workbook and start inputting the numbers. Once done, I pull up the previous months bill.
After going through almost a year of bills, I have a starting point. There’s only four numbers he seems to dial on a pretty steady basis outside of Sonia’s, the rest appear to be one offs. A little Google search, and I tick off another number as his office.
Out of the last three, only one provides a name. I don’t recognize it and it’s female.
I stare at the screen, at my findings. Without calling them, there’s no way to find out who they are and if they’re anything more than someone he talks to.
If only I could track his movements to prove what I know. Evidence of where he is and going.
I tap my thumbs on my laptop.
Is there a GPS tracker I can somehow attach to his car?
The thought sends my fingers flying on the keyboard, bringing up Amazon and typing in my search.
A sense of elation comes over me as the perfect item comes up—a real time GPS tracker and it’s only eighty bucks. It’s a small fob like device with an app that tracks all movement. I can hide it in his car, maybe the glove box with all the other crap, and keep constant watch of when and where he’s going.
Added to my cart and checked out using my bank card, not his credit card. Confirmation comes through with a delivery date by mid next week.
Perfect.
Excitement courses through me. A smile on my face and a lighter feeling than I’ve had in weeks. It’s the break, the step I need to get Sonia away from him.
More than just a selfish want so I can be open with Kira, it’s for Sonia. I’ve seen the damage the years w
ith him have done to her. She’s nothing to him, and she needs to be everything to someone, like Kira is to me.
She deserves better than his cheating ass, but she’s stuck, afraid to break away, even though it’s what she needs to do.
It hurts Kira to see her beaten down, and it angers Ryan that she won’t listen.
That’s why I’m doing this, because she should be happy, too.
August 19th 2015
“Hang out?” Brayden asks.
I still can’t believe I’m doing this, calling him.
“Yeah, hang out. Not sex.” There’s silence, and I wonder if the connection was lost. “Hello?”
“I’m heading down. Do you want to watch a movie? Play a game? I can bring my PS4.” The eagerness in his voice catches me off guard. “We could go to Dave and Busters, or maybe Kings Island.”
My heart hammers against my ribs. Why did I think this was a good idea?
“Whoa, slow down there, sparky.” The crinkling on the other end of the phone stops. “Just come home, we’ll figure it out when you get here.”
“I’ll be there soon.”
I don’t get another word out before he hangs up and reality settles in. He’s coming over. Just me and him. Alone.
My hands begin to shake and I run upstairs. The pajamas I’m still wearing will not do. Hell, the most I’ve accomplished today is breakfast and brushing my teeth.
After stripping out of my clothes, I jump into the shower for a quick hose down. Just because I said no sex doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be at least presentable, is the lie I tell myself twenty minutes later as I work on my makeup.
There’s a cute tank top hanging in my closet that catches my eye. I slip it on, leaving my bra off, since we’re just going to be hanging out. The sight of my nipples poking at the fabric makes my pussy clench with visions of Brayden’s fingers pinching them.
More of him yanking the neckline down, exposing it before attacking it, devouring my skin as he strips us both, ready to fill me.
This freaking Brayden fever is going to kill me.
Even telling myself I don’t care what he thinks, my actions tell the truth—I want him to want me.
