Shackled: A Stepbrother Romance Novel

by Arabella Abbing

  “Get off of me,” I whispered harshly, jerking back as I recalled the look on his face when he realized I had walked in on them. He didn’t even pull out of the girl. He just blankly stared at me until I couldn’t see him through the blur of my tears as I turned around and ran.

  Good times, I thought bitterly.

  “Get off of me!” I shouted, my momentary lapse in sanity disappearing beneath the weight those memories still held.

  Jonathan seemed able to sense where my mind had gone and he rolled off, sitting beside me and propping himself up against the bed. The chain between us was fairly long, giving him plenty of room to cross his arms over his chest while he shot me an emotionless glare.

  “We really need to talk, Fiona.”

  “No, we really don’t,” I disagreed with a harsh shake of my head. “What I need is for you to take this damn shackle off so I can get the hell out of this cabin.”

  Much to my irritation, he blatantly ignored me. “Look, what happened on prom night was—”

  “I don’t care, Jonathan,” I said miserably, raising my hands in mock surrender. “I just don’t. There’s nothing to fucking say about it because I. Don’t. Care.”

  His eye twitched once before he clenched his jaw, obviously fighting back whatever it was he wanted to say. Or shout. Either one wouldn’t have surprised me. Jonathan was nothing if not passionate.

  “Liar,” he muttered, just loud enough for me to hear it. I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off with a wave of his hand. “Tell yourself whatever the hell you want, but no matter what you say, you’re stuck with me for the next three days. Literally.”

  As charming as his smile was, all I wanted to do in that moment was slap it right off his face.

  Without even considering my actions, I did exactly that.

  Chapter Nine

  Jonathan

  A sharp blow across my cheek was pretty much the last thing I expected from Fiona. I raised a hand to my face in disbelief, scoffing at how absurd the notion was even though it had literally just happened.

  She seriously fucking slapped me.

  I tried to save face by pretending that it didn’t bother me, but it did. This was going to be a hell of a lot harder than I’d thought. Sure, I’d never expected her to just lie back and accept an apology, but I definitely hadn’t expected her to hit me.

  The semester she’d spent at college had changed her a little more than I realized. The Fiona I knew was stubborn as fuck, but incredibly mild-mannered. In the past, she would have just pulled a face at me and sulked. Angry outbursts were never her style.

  She must really hate me now. Or at least she thinks she does.

  “So help me—Jonathan, let me go right the fuck now. We have nothing to talk about,” she practically growled out, her anger making her tremble.

  She didn’t even realize that she was turning me on. Fuck, she looked feisty as hell as she harshly pulled on the shackle in a vain attempt to get it off her wrist.

  But what did she really expect me to do? Just give in to her demands because she slapped me? Unlock the chain and let her flee from the cabin and my presence and ignore all the very real issues that we needed to talk about? She knew me better than that, or at least I thought she did.

  “I beg to differ, sweetheart,” I argued with a chuckle, rubbing the stinging skin of my face while I shook my head. “If we didn’t have anything to talk about, you wouldn’t be so fucking hostile.”

  Fiona raised her hand to slap me again. Once bitten, twice shy. I caught her wrist and pushed her down, pinning her against the floor while she glared at me. The new position didn’t save me from the verbal half of her assault.

  “I wouldn’t be hostile if you weren’t such an asshole.”

  She squirmed beneath me and I cursed our arrangement, my erection once again brushing against parts of her that I had no business being near. At least not yet. I gritted my teeth together and pushed myself up, trying to get away from her hips as she used them to try to buck me off.

  “Listen to me for one fucking second,” I ground out, letting out a sigh of relief when she stopped moving. “I owe you an explanation.”

  Some of the anger melted out of her gaze and while that should have made me happy, the look that replaced it felt more like a punch to the gut than a victory. She sadly shook her head and I silently cursed at myself when I saw her eyes beginning to tear up again.

  “Maybe you do, but I don’t want to hear it. You’ve done enough,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

  Then the walls went back up and the hope of trying to fix things between us started to slip away. Because looking at her closed off expression now, I realized that I hurt her far worse than I originally thought.

  She hadn’t been lying when she told me she loved me. And I broke that.

  I had done enough. More than enough, actually.

  I pushed myself up and crawled as far away from her as the chain between us would allow, running a hand over my face as I contemplated this turn of events. My mouth opened and closed numerous time as I tried to think of something funny or smart to say. Something to make her feel better. Anything to break this terrible silence.

  But that look on her face...

  Part of me wanted to let her go, let her move on even if it meant I’d spend the rest of my life regretting it. But the larger part—the selfish part—still needed to try.

  At the very least, I owed her an apology. Whether she wanted it or not.

  I glanced back and saw that she hadn’t moved from where I left her lying on the floor, just staring blankly up at the ceiling. I swallowed the lump forming in my throat and closed my eyes, trying to will away my doubts and figure out my next move.

  Chapter Ten

  Fiona

  When it became clear that Jonathan wasn’t going to let me go no matter what I said or did, the uncomfortable silence began. He crawled away from where I was sitting and the two of us stayed there for what felt like hours, each lost in our own thoughts.

  I had no idea what he was thinking, but all I was thinking about was how to get him to take off the damn chain and let me leave. He was the one who had created this rift between us. Not me. And he had no right to drag me back into a mess that he had caused when I wanted nothing more to do with it.

  I wondered what he expected to come from giving me an explanation. Did he think it would magically fix what he’d broken? What could he possibly say that would excuse his actions?

  Was he going to tell me that he didn’t mean to sleep with her? That he fell on top of her and his dick just happened to slide in? Even if there was some sort of logical explanation, why would it have taken him this long to tell me?

  It was as if I didn’t even know him anymore. If it truly had been a mistake, the Jonathan I knew wouldn’t have let me get away so easily. Even if I had managed to slip away, he would have come to my college and chased after me. He would have explained his mistake and told me that he loved me and wanted to be with me. Then we would’ve run into the sunset and lived happily ever after.

  But the Jonathan I thought I knew wouldn’t have slept with her in the first place. It would have been me.

  It should have been me.

  My head wanted nothing to do with him. But my heart, the stupid thing that got me into this mess in the first place, was begging me to give him a chance.

  After hours of silence, his stomach gave way first. I heard the rumbling and purposely ignored it. But when my bladder started to protest, I was left with little choice but to speak up or risk further embarrassment.

  “I need to pee.”

  He didn’t flinch, but the surprise in his eyes was obvious as he slowly turned to look at me. His jaw clenched and unclenched like he wanted to say something, but he simply nodded and moved to stand up. I followed suit, wincing a little when pain went shooting up my back from lying on the floor for so long.

  “You all right?” he asked as I shifted around uncomfortably.


  “Fine,” I mumbled as I stalked past him. He followed close behind and when I reached the bathroom door, I turned back to glare at him as I asked, “You going to let me pee in peace?”

  He rolled his eyes and shook the chain. “Why do you think I made it so long? Put it under the door. I’ll be right here.”

  “Clever. So are you going to make a career out of holding people against their will or is this more of a hobby for you?”

  He chuckled at my sarcasm as he propped himself against the wall beside the door and crossed his arms over his chest. I arranged the chain to feed beneath the door and closed it, flicking the lock just in case.

  After I finished, I stood in front of the sink and stared at my reflection in the mirror as I washed my hands. I was a complete wreck. The minimal makeup I had thrown on this morning was smudged from both my nap and tears, and my eyes were still red from the latter.

  My hair was in an even worse state and I frantically tried to smooth it down, then abruptly stopped when I remembered that the only person who would being seeing me like this was Jonathan.

  I splashed my face with cold water and tried to shake off the urge to continue making myself look presentable, wishing that I could just stop being attracted to him altogether. But it seemed like no matter how badly he hurt me, a small part of me was still hanging on to the hope of reconnecting.

  Not that that was ever going to happen. Not for lack of effort on his part, but primarily because every time I saw his face, I was taken right back to those painful memories.

  But here, in private? I wished it could be different. I wished I could see past what happened because I actually wanted to. I wanted to move forward. I wanted him.

  “You almost done in there, princess?”

  And just like that, I remembered why it would never happen.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jonathan

  Fiona didn’t speak to me again for hours after the bathroom incident. After I came out from voiding my own bladder, her face was back to the stoic ‘don’t-fuck-with-me’ look that I was slowly becoming used to seeing on her.

  I really missed the ‘you-mean-the-world-to-me’ look that she used to throw my way, even before she admitted to having feelings for me. It was never unwelcome—she certainly had meant the world to me as well—but when she said those three words… I knew those looks would soon be over. Everything was going to change. Everything was going to fall apart.

  I just didn’t expect it to happen so soon.

  Maybe it was for the best that it happened that way. I certainly didn’t go to prom with the intention of breaking Fiona’s heart or fucking things up right off the bat, but I still somehow managed to do it.

  Even if it hadn’t gone down like that, even if I had said it back to her like I should have… it still would’ve ended the same way.

  Because the truth of it was—Fiona was too good for me. Even as a friend, she was way more than a guy like me deserved. I was selfish, sarcastic to a fault, and far from reliable. I hadn’t started out that way, but at some point, I started blowing her off to hang out with guy friends or go on dates. But Fiona was always there when I came back around. Always there when I needed her.

  I took it for granted. Took her for granted.

  She deserved better. Still does.

  But I wanted her regardless of whether or not I deserved her.

  “I’m hungry.”

  So am I, angel.

  The words nearly slipped out, but I managed to clamp my jaw down just in time to smother them. Instead, I gave her a curt nod and a broad gesture as if to say ‘be my guest.’ When she started heading to the kitchen to rummage through the bags of food our parents brought to stock the cabin, I followed right behind her.

  We ate in silence, and then wound up back in the living room. I put a couple of logs in the fireplace and as it started to glow in the room, I was left to ponder what the fuck I was supposed to do next. I knew that Fiona used to play cards with her dad when she came out here as a kid and I wished I had the foresight to bring a deck with me or at least look around for one before I chained us together.

  Another opportunity lost.

  The more we sat doing nothing, the more silence I was forced to endure, the more I was stuck with nothing but my own guilty thoughts… the more I wanted to drop to my knees and outright beg her for forgiveness.

  But I stopped myself. I needed to make damn sure she was ready to listen to me before I said a word. The same tells like avoiding eye contact warned me that she was still really pissed about the shackles. I was hoping she would eventually calm down just enough to give me a chance to explain.

  Until then, I was just going to have to wait. But I wasn’t going to give up, no matter how long she dragged this out. One way or another, I was determined to get a word in this weekend and have her actually hear it.

  I managed to keep a leash on all the sarcastic things I wanted to say—things I would have joked around with her about had we still been on good terms—right up until the sun went down and she finally turned to look at me.

  “Did you even think about how we’re supposed to sleep like this?” she asked coldly, raising her hand and shaking the chain to illustrate her point.

  It wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but at least she was speaking. It was a start.

  “I did, actually.”

  There was a long pause and I could practically feel the disdain rolling off her in waves.

  “Well?” she asked impatiently, tilting her head to the side as she waited for an answer.

  I grinned and watched as the color drained from her face, already knowing exactly what I was going to say and still dreading to hear the words.

  “We’re going to share a bed.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Fiona

  “You have got to be kidding,” I said with a scoff as I shook my head. “No. No. This whole thing is ridiculous enough already. I am not sharing a bed with you.”

  Jonathan just shrugged. “Why the hell not? It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

  “That was before.”

  “Before I fucked everything up?”

  Was that supposed to be some kind of apology? Him acknowledging that he fucked up? Hearing him admit to screwing up was enough to make the ache in my chest ease just a tad, but it was hardly enough for me to even consider forgiving him. I stepped a little closer, waiting for him to elaborate.

  But he said nothing. He just pursed his lips together as if he had already said more than he intended and looked away.

  I couldn’t say I was surprised. After all, this was Jonathan. He never apologized.

  “So how am I supposed to change into my pajamas with this thing on my wrist?”

  His eyes blatantly travelled down to my top and lingered there, a blush rising to my cheeks from the attention. His voice was thick when he spoke, sending a shiver up my spine.

  “Well… I could tear that off for you.”

  I growled my distaste. “That’s not funny.”

  “Wasn’t trying to be.”

  Our eyes met and I froze, unsure of where to go from here. But Jonathan was already standing up and stalking towards the bedroom—my bedroom—and the yanking of the chain left me little choice but to follow.

  When I came into the room, he was already rummaging through my bag.

  “Hey!” I cried out, rushing over to smack his hand. “Don’t go through my stuff!”

  He smirked. “I was just trying to be helpful.”

  “Bullshit,” I hissed, yanking the bag away from him. “You’re being nosy.”

  The smirk remained and he shrugged. “Hey, it’s not like I went through your phone or anything. Could have, but I didn’t. Hell, I could have taken your phone and hidden it so you couldn’t call anyone, but I didn’t do that either.”

  “And why didn’t you?”

  Suddenly, Jonathan was directly in front of me, leaning over far enough for me to feel the heat of his breath on my cheek. I felt my h
eart speed up from the close proximity and my eyes drifted shut at the soft sound of his voice in my ear.

  “Because I knew you wouldn’t call anyone to rescue you. Because even though you may want to hate me, there’s still a part of you that’s hung up on me.”

  I wanted to deny it—to argue that I’d moved on—but the feeling of his warm fingertips brushing against my hand stopped the words before they could come close to being spoken.

  Say something. Do something. At least back the fuck away from him!

  My mind was screaming at me to take action, but my body definitely wasn’t on the same page. I felt almost drunk from his proximity and my body slowly swayed forward to get closer to his warmth. We were close enough together now for me to detect the faintest hint of the cologne he always wore and the scent made my heart pound against my chest.

  God, I missed his smell.

  “Believe me, I understand how you feel,” he whispered, drawing his head back just far enough to lock his heated gaze onto mine. “Because I’m still hung up on you, too.”

  I slowly shook my head, unable to break eye contact as I whispered, “You were never hung up on me to begin with.”

  The smile that curled his lips didn’t even come close to reaching his eyes. “You see, that’s where you’re wrong. I’ve always been hung up on you. Just took me a hell of a lot longer than you to figure it out.”

  “You’re lying. You only think you want me because you can’t have me.”

  Everything changed the instant the words slipped past my lips—his eyes darkening with something wild and passionate as his jaw ticked. The fingers that were running against my palm suddenly gripped my wrist and he straightened his spine to tower over me, his stance almost menacing.