Evil Stepsister

by Scarlett Jade

  “She’s dehydrated. They’re giving her some fluids and will be releasing her soon. She says she wants to go home. Her manager’s in the room now talking to her. She wants to know if you’ll take her home.”

  “I’ll take her anywhere she wants to go. As long as she’ll rest.”

  “The kid’s tuckered out. She hasn’t been eating right, they wanted her to fit in some dress for an awards show and she was a size too big. So she’s been eating lettuce and not much else for days.”

  “Kale,” I blurted.

  “What?”

  “Kirby said he saw her at the store and she was looking for kale. It’s kinda like lettuce.”

  “Okay, well whatever it is. She isn’t eating or drinking right. The doctor told her she can’t tour for a minimum of six months and her manager is raising hell about refunding tickets. She won’t let me take him out. Kirby told me once he knew how to get rid of a body in like two days…I told her she could make my bail for me and we could all disappear to the islands. She won’t hear it.”

  I laughed weakly. “Just get her better so we can take her home.”

  “I will. I’ll let you know. Hold tight. I’m going in. The manager’s yelling. I don’t think so…where’s my pocket knife?” Dad hung up on me and I leaned back in the chair with a sigh and another chuckle.

  She wanted to come home. She needed me, yet again, and I was there. I was a fool to believe she would stay. Still, a part of me hoped she was coming home for good.

  Brielle slept for days when we brought her home. She would be asleep when I’d drop by the house in the morning before work and she would still be asleep when I’d get off. Dad said we had to be patient, she was completely burned out, but I didn’t want to be patient. I wanted her to be okay, sooner rather than later.

  By the end of her third day home, I was messing up at work and the guys were picking up my slack. Jason clapped me on the shoulder as I poured oil on my boot instead of into a car like I should’ve been. “Carter, go home.”

  “I can’t go home. I’m working.” I shook my head and finished up the oil change.

  “Carter, go home. I’ll close up tonight. I know she’s weighing on your mind. You’re fucking up and wasting oil and making a mess so please go home and see her.”

  Jason had a point. It wasn’t my first screw-up of the day. I’d dropped a wrench on my face, and I’d come damn close to getting brake fluid in my eye. Twice.

  “Fine. I’ll go check on her. But this isn’t going to become a thing.”

  “I know, man. It’s okay.” Jason patted my shoulder again and I hurried upstairs to change into regular clothes. I didn’t want her to see me covered in grease right now. I couldn’t hide the shiner on my cheek from the wrench, though. She’d have to wonder about that one. I just hoped she’d actually be awake.

  Dad said she was up for about an hour a day at midnight, and she’d eat something then go straight to sleep. I just didn’t think it was healthy to be sleeping so much. He told me to research Chronic Fatigue and that I needed to shut my trap. Last he checked, I hadn’t gone to medical school.

  Stripping out of my clothes, I changed and sat down with my laptop to research exactly what it was she was dealing with. My stomach churned as I read words like debilitating, extreme exhaustion, muscle and joint pain, brain fog.

  She was too young to have brain fog and muscle pain. She was too perfect. My Brielle couldn’t be dealing with something like that.

  Denial wasn’t just a river in Egypt.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Sometime later, I drove to the house and parked in the driveway. My heart was heavy. I had spent almost an hour reading about Chronic Fatigue and everything seemed hopeless. I trudged to the steps and knocked on the door. I was surprised when she opened it.

  “Brielle! You’re awake.”

  “Barely. The sun burns. Get inside. I need coffee. What’s with your face?” She shuffled to the kitchen and I followed behind her closely. When she stopped, I bumped into her.

  “Sorry. I dropped a wrench on my face.” I self-consiously touched the bruise.

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

  I walked around the table and pulled it out. Before I sat I asked, “Where’s Dad?”

  “Store. Getting me kale.”

  “What’s with you and kale?”

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

  “Oh.” I sat down in a chair and tried to figure out what I wanted to say. “I read about your syndrome.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Okay?”

  “I’m scared.”

  “You’re scared?” she snorted, sitting down across from me 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.”

  She laughed and the sound was rough to my ears. “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?”

  I sat back in the chair and gaped at her. “What?”

  “Party drugs mostly. Remember the night I got raped?”

  I nodded. “I’ll never forget.” That night was forever imprinted on my memory.

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

  “I never knew.”

  “Of course not. You would’ve ratted me out to Mom and Charlie. You were so damn good. I couldn't risk my fun being ruined. At the time, it was mostly fun. There were some scary moments. I’ve been raped more times than I care to admit, Carter. I’ve done things to get pills…I’m not proud of who I used to be. Hollywood was horrible for drugs. I dabbled in cocaine, took ecstasy whenever I needed a high, and lived on top of the world. It’s all fine and good until your body rebels. Last year I was partying and I ended up in the hospital. My manager insisted I go to rehab then, but I told him no. There was a party after the Grammys, when I won, and I had a reaction to the ecstasy I took at the after party. I guess I got a bad batch or something. It wasn’t good, at all. Since then I have been exhausted all the time.” She paused and took a long drink of coffee.

  “Were the drugs part of your mood swings? You acted like you were crazy sometimes and it was driving me insane.”

  “Probably. Mostly I was just into myself and being a bitch to keep you on your toes and wanting me. Not really some of my finest moments...”

  “Were you high when the accident happened?” I hated myself for asking, but I had to know before I let my heart get too caught up in her again.

  “No. I was only using on the weekends, mostly. The night of the accident, after Charlie called and told me about Mom…” she choked up and cleared her throat. “I went to Dad’s house and I told him what I’d been doing. I begged him to let me go to Seattle to live with my aunt. He was mortified and put me on a plane at dawn. The accident scared me straight for a little while. Then I met up with some guys in the music scene and my aunt helped me get a demo tape into a couple labels where she had connections. I was fine until I got big. Then drugs were everywhere and I felt such pressure to perform...they made it fun to perform. I wasn’t doing what I wanted music-wise and I really hated it without the drugs.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too. It’s easy to get caught up in peer pressure and believe that people want the best for you. When really they just want to line their own pockets.”

  We fell silent for a moment and I piped up, “I meant to say thank you for putting Logan in contact with us.”

  “Of course. It’s the least I could do. Logan is a good guy. He came to see me a few times in rehab. We naturally talked about you and I mentioned you were running the shop…it was nothing.”

  “Tell me more about when you were gone.”

  “Not today. Some things are a little hard to talk a
bout. I’m here now and I don’t want to live in the past anymore. I’m not that Brielle. I haven’t been for a long time.”

  Dad walked in the door just then and Brielle seemed grateful for the distraction. “Bri, I found kale. I think.”

  She giggled. “I bet you did just fine.”

  I had a million other questions, but I doubted she would answer them. I was impressed, she rarely let anyone in far enough to explain anything. I watched Dad and Brielle chat about kale. She turned to me and showed me the green lettuce-like stuff.

  “Kale.” I smiled.

  She nodded. “I’m going to make kale chips. Want some?”

  “Sure.”

  A short while later, I realized I did not want kale chips. Not ever. She ate them happily with a big bowl of mashed up avocado and salt. “It’s good!” she told me.

  “You enjoy it. I want a burger.”

  “Oh, come on, you guys need to eat more than meat, cheese, and potatoes. Let me cook for you tomorrow night. I’ll make a vegetarian feast.”

  “Do you think you feel up for all that, Bri?” Dad asked. “You know the doctor said to take it easy and after your dad came and got you upset...”

  “Your dad came by? Why did he upset you?” I was immediately pissed and protective.

  She sighed heavily. “Yes, he did. He wanted money. I told him no. He got angry and threatened me. He said that he made me who I am and without him sending me to Washington I would've never been famous. He’s broke from gambling too much, and I'm not going to fuel his bad habit. That would be like giving crack to a crackhead. Anyway. Back to cooking. I like to cook. Let me cook for you. But right now? I think I’m ready to go to bed. Carter, can you help me upstairs?” She pushed away her plate of chips and the avocado glop. “Charlie can you put that away? I’m really tired.” She was done talking and I didn't push it further. She would tell me when and if she was ready.

  “I’ve got it honey, you go rest.”

  “Thanks.” She stood and wavered on her feet. I caught her just before she fell over. “Good catch, Carter,” she murmured softly.

  I scooped her up in my arms and carried her upstairs. Placing her in her bed, I tucked her in and bent to kiss her forehead. She put her hand on the back of my neck and guided me to her lips.

  I kissed her gently and pulled away. “Sleep.”

  “I’ll be better soon. I shouldn’t have let my manager convince me to go. Are you mad?”

  Sitting on the edge of her bed, I shrugged. “I was.”

  “I’m sorry. I was emotional after we had sex and then he called and said I could do a short tour, just six shows, and then be off for the month of January. So I jumped on it. I figured I’d be back and we would’ve both had time to think…I just didn’t realize that I was also expected to fit into this stupid dress for the Grammys. It was some designer from Thailand and she made the dress so small a little girl couldn’t wear it.”

  I put my finger on her lips. “Don’t explain all this to me. You’re here. You’re off the road, and it’s over, right?”

  “Right. I want to just record albums. Nothing else.”

  “All you need to worry about is getting rest and feeling better. I’m going to go. Get some rest, okay? Christmas is coming soon and you need to be up and around for Dad’s terrible caroling.”

  She smiled tiredly and nodded. “You got it. I won’t always have bad days…just sometimes.” I walked to the door and just as I closed it, she said, “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” I didn’t care if she had a million bad days. I wanted to be there for all of them. I closed the door and hurried downstairs, where my father was attempting to eat the weird kale chips.

  “This shit’s awful.”

  “Wanna go get a burger?”

  “Hell yeah.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Christmas morning I slipped two places. First to Kirby’s house to leave presents for Daisy. Daisy would love the baby doll with red hair and the books. Once I dropped everything off there, I drove to Dad’s house.

  Brielle’s present was in a little blue box inside the pocket of my coat, and I’d gotten dad a little something too. I was the most excited to give her the gift I’d picked out. I hoped she’d find it as special as I did.

  Parking the car, I hurried to the door and unlocked it. Slipping inside, I jumped as Brielle called my name.

  “Carter?”

  Peeking into the kitchen, I found her cross-legged in a chair at the table, holding a large mug of coffee in both hands. “Hey, what are you doing up?”

  “I’m tired, but I can’t sleep. So I’m drinking coffee.”

  “Oh, caffeine is definitely going to help you sleep.”

  “It’s decaf. Bite me.”

  “Where?” I wiggled my brows and she gave me a rare smile.

  “Maybe another day.”

  “Chicken. How are you feeling?”

  “Okay.” She sipped her coffee and looked out the window. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas. I got you something.”

  “You didn’t have to do that. I didn’t get you anything.”

  “You being here is enough.” I wanted to hit myself in the back of the head. Everything coming out of my mouth sounded lovesick and dumb.

  “Well where is it?” she demanded, placing her mug on the table and holding out her hand.

  “Come get it. It’s in my pocket.”

  “Wait. Is this one of those I-stick-my-hand-in-your-pocket-and-find-your-dick jokes?”

  “No, it’s not, but that’s a good one to file away. Thanks for the idea. It’s in my coat. ”

  She stood slowly and walked to me. Her eyes were wary as she dipped a hand in each pocket. Pulling the little blue box free, I heard her gasp. “I can’t…”

  “Just open it, okay?”

  She pulled the box lid off and stared at the silver bracelet inside. “You got me a charm bracelet.”

  “I did.”

  “I hated that you got that window licker one. I was so jealous. Now you got me one.”

  “See what’s even more special? This one’s real silver. And the charms I picked just for you.”

  “Hold the box,” she ordered, and I chuckled as she dropped it in my palm. “A wrench and a heart?” She looked up at me quizzically.

  “You said you needed a mechanic to fix your heart. Last I checked, I’m qualified to do the job.” I held my breath and waited for her to say something. Anything.

  “You deserve better than me.” She carefully placed the bracelet back in the box and closed it. “You do.”

  Tossing the box on the table, I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her. I kissed her with everything I had and after a slight hesitation, she kissed me back. I slid my arms around her waist and she stood on tiptoe to wrap her arms around my neck. I needed her to know that she was the only woman on my mind and in my heart, and she always would be. Just as my hands were slipping under the bottom of her T-shirt and things were heating up, Dad walked into the kitchen.

  “I saw Carter kissing Brielle,” he sang off-key and she pulled away from me.

  Her hand pressed against her lips and she flushed hot. “It’s not what you think.”

  “Oh, please. I’ve known since you left the first time. I really knew you two wanted each other before that. I don’t have a problem with it. Lisa wouldn’t have cared either. As long as the two of you are happy…now, where’s the coffee? Carter, take your coat off and have some breakfast. It’s Christmas morning, both of my kids are here, and I’m bound and determined to celebrate.”

  Shrugging off my coat, I hung it on the back of a chair and picked up the box. “Put it on.”

  “I-I…”

  Dad turned to us and sighed. “Bri, accept that this boy loves you. You’re worth being loved. Carter, accept that this kid’s a runner. She doesn’t know how to stay when things get bad. The rest of your lives you’re going to be working on that. Put whatever it is he got you on, unless
it’s lingerie, I do not need to see that. Then please, make me happy and let’s enjoy the day.”

  I held out the box and she took it from me with a small smile. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Let me help you put it on,” I offered, taking the bracelet and slipping it around her wrist. I hooked it together and she jiggled it a little.

  “It’s perfect. I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything.”

  “I don’t need anything.”

  “He does,” Dad broke in. “He needs a woman to warm his bed.”

  “Dad!” I yelled.

  “What?” he shrugged. “It’s true.”

  “Move so I can make bacon.”

  “No way in hell. You burned it last time.”

  “You both move. I’ll make bacon. But I’m not eating it. I’ll eat oatmeal.” Brielle pushed us out of the way and turned on the stove. “I need a skillet.”

  “Here you go,” Dad handed her one then sat at the table. “Where’s my present?” He asked me.

  “Who said you got one?”

  “You didn’t get your old man a gift? Well that’s just shitty.”

  “I did. It’s out in the car, though.”

  He smirked. “Go get it. I’m waiting.”

  I ran outside to the car and brought in a small shirt box. “Here.”

  “It better not be underwear.”

  “It’s not.”

  He tore open the box and stared down at the blue shirt, then back up at me. “What’s this?”

  “I was thinking…since you’ve gotten so much better, it’s time you came back to the shop. Your shirt says Father. Mine says Son. I want to change the shop name to Father and Son Auto. It’s always been yours. I just held it until you were ready to take back the reins.”

  He touched the embroidered patch on the shirt and sniffled slightly. “I don’t know what to say.”

  Brielle turned around with a grin and pointed at us with the spatula. “Charlie, accept that the shop is where you belong. I’m so tired of talking with you about cars. Take Carter’s offer. Carter, understand that your dad is still struggling and you can’t put too much pressure on him.”