Nine Steamy Step Stories

by Lilian St. James

  Despite the turmoil whirling inside of me, I steeled my face. I wouldn’t show how much her betrayal devastated me.

  “If she goes, I go,” Theo said squeezing my hand.

  Charles stood, and pressed his curled fists onto the top of his desk. “Now, son, that’s not necessary. She’s no good for you. You deserve a decent wife. Someone with connections. Someone with ambition, class.”

  “That’s enough,” Theo spat. “I’m not you. She’s everything I want and more.”

  “I won’t have this, you hear?” Charles thumped his fist against his desk with such force that one of the golf trophies on the mantelpiece toppled over. “I went along with your military folly. Even supported it. But this,” he waved his hands between the two of us, “this is preposterous.”

  Theo squeezed my hand. “My mind is made up. I won’t change it.”

  My love for him doubled, tripled. He would do anything for me. Even stand up to his Rottweiler father. Even leave the life he knew behind.

  “I’m sorry to have to say this, son. If you decide to leave with her, I don’t want you back in this house. I’ll disinherit you, strike you out of my will.”

  “I don’t need your money,” he replied. “I don’t need this house. I need her.”

  I gazed at his face, creased with pain and sorrow. “Theo, no. You can’t give everything up for me. I don’t want you to.”

  “I would kill for you. Without you I have nothing. You own my heart. You own my soul.”

  He glared at his father. “I’m sorry it’s come to this, Dad.”

  Charles closed his eyes and something close to grief crossed his face. “Me too, son. You have thirty minutes to get what you need and leave this house. When you come to your senses, I’ll consider taking you back.”

  Theo stood ramrod straight. “Then I guess this is goodbye.”

  Before we left the office, I walked over to my mom and placed my hand in hers and it was as if I was four years old again. “Come with us. We can build a life. We can start over. I love you, Mom.” My voice broke and tears slid down my face. “Please, don’t hate me.”

  Her nostrils flared as she breathed. Charles walked over and grasped her other hand. Her head lowered in defeat and I knew she was lost to me. I placed a kiss on her cheek, tasting the salt of the tears streaming down her face. “Goodbye, Mom.”

  I ran up to my room and grabbed the suitcase I’d packed for college.

  Theo’s car idled outside. My mom was nowhere to be seen but I heard raised voices coming from Charles’ office. The doors swung open and he glowered at me as if he wanted to kill me. “You have five minutes. If you’re not out of here by then, I’ll call the police and have you arrested for trespassing.”

  Ugly words scratched the tip of my tongue, but instead of calling him every name I could think of, I strode through the foyer and toward Theo’s car.

  Without looking back, we left Briarfield Hall forever.

  Epilogue

  A bolt of lightning lit up the sitting room to my right, and Megan clung to my arm. For over seven years, no one had stepped inside Briarfield Hall. Moth-eaten sheets concealed the furniture, and intricate cobwebs hung in doorways. Despite the promise of summer, an unwelcoming chill surrounded me.

  Oil paintings still lined the walls and frowned at me in a constant state of judgment. I avoided looking at their eyes.

  With Megan’s small hand grasped in mine, I navigated into the sitting room. An old pile of wood sat by the fireplace, and a paper dated the day my mom and Charles left for their month long cruise sat on the table. A few weeks after Theo and I were disowned, the ship they were on capsized in the Indian Ocean, and their bodies were never recovered. The ship sank to the bottom of the ocean where it remained. If I’d agreed to go with them, my life would have ended along with theirs.

  Edward and Alexander ran Charles’ empire, and they were all too happy to give me access to the house. They didn’t want the property, but they didn’t want to sell it, either. The day we left I swore I would never cross the threshold again. But something in the house called to me, and every day it grew stronger. I needed closure. I needed to feel close to my mom, to remember the woman who loved me not the woman who rejected me.

  “Mommy, I’m tired.”

  “You can sleep in my old room, baby.” I pulled Megan into a hug, kissed the top of her head and led her upstairs.

  Before turning the silver handle and opening my bedroom door, I paused. The last time I woke up in this room, my life changed forever. Cruel accusations, anger, and threats of damnation filled the air. Stepping over the threshold was stepping into a past I’d rather not relive.

  “Mama?” Megan tugged at my jeans.

  Trembling, I reached out, pressed down the handle and stepped into the room. I gasped, surprised to see my queen-size bed, which sat in the middle of two windows, made up and protected by heavy plastic. I pulled it off, and the scent of fresh linen drifted up to me. Why wasn’t it stripped bare and bleached clean the minute I left?

  A hot pink fluffy rug still lay beside the bed and my bunny slippers peeked out from beneath the ruffled bed skirt. To my right, all my old things-perfume bottles, makeup, hair brush and straighteners-sat on the dressing table as if waiting for me to come back and claim them. To my left, the closet doors were closed and I wondered if all my old clothes were still in there. Posters of kittens and long-forgotten boy bands lined the soft-pink walls.

  “Come, baby.” I wrapped my arm around Megan’s shoulders. “Let’s get you ready for bed.”

  “Will you stay with me?” she asked, her voice as thin as the sheer curtains draped across the windows.

  “Of course I will.” Her body relaxed.

  “Climb into bed.”

  She gave me an incredulous look. “But I’m not wearing PJs and I haven’t brushed my teeth. The tooth fairy won’t come if I don’t brush my teeth every night.”

  “How about, I write a note to the tooth fairy and tell her it was too late and we were too tired.”

  “Do you think she’ll be okay with that? My tooth-” she stuck her tongue behind her wiggly tooth and pushed it out, “-is about to fall out.”

  “I’m sure the tooth fairy will understand,” I reassured her.

  She swung our hands back and forth. “If you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Okay.” Megan released my hand and scrambled into bed. I tucked her in and kissed her cheek. “Love you, angel.”

  “Love you, too, Mama.”

  After a few minutes of stroking her soft blond hair, so much like her father’s, she fell fast asleep. I gazed at my reason to live. Had my mom ever waited until I fell asleep and gazed at me, her heart swelling with love? Had she ever wondered how someone so perfect could be in her life? When Theo and I left, I’m sure she wondered what she had done to deserve someone so morally bankrupt.

  Taking care not to wake Megan, I rose from the bed and sat at my dressing table. One by one, I lifted the bottles of perfume I used to wear and spritzed them into the air. As if they were a time machine, the sweet and fruity fragrances took me back to the past.

  I opened the drawers and pushed up the secret compartment where I kept anything I didn’t want people to see. Love letters, notes from my friends about boys, dreams I wanted to achieve. On top of everything was an envelope addressed to me in my mom’s swirled handwriting. My heart thundered and blood rushed through my ears. With shaking hands, I reached for the envelope.

  I broke the blue-wax seal and took out an orange-blossom scented letter.

  My darling baby girl,

  I pray one day you get this. I pray you know how much I truly love you.

  I know you must hate me for abandoning you. Please know it was the hardest thing I have ever done. For so many years, you were my life. Before you and Theo came to the office, I pleaded with Charles to go easy. I begged him to accept what had happened between you. Yes, I was angry and yes, I was shocked, but in time that would h
ave faded. When you looked at Theo, the love in your eyes just about broke my heart. I once thought Charles loved me that way, but he never did. I was his trophy and until the day I die, that’s all I’ll be.

  Please don’t hate me for the decision I made. He threatened me with your life, with my life. He said if I showed any weakness or acceptance of your relationship, he would make sure your days on earth would be few. Lord knows he has enough money to make anyone disappear without a trace. I told him I would go to the police. He laughed in my face and said he had so many police commissioners and politicians in his pocket, no one would ever believe me. He said if I didn’t keep quiet, an accident could easily happen. He wouldn’t kill me, but he would make it so I would never walk or talk. I would watch the world go by in a paralyzed shell.

  I’m a weak woman, Addy. Never be like me. Love Theo with all your heart. Love fiercely. Love hard.

  Every minute of every day, you are in my thoughts.

  With love forever,

  Mom

  Tears blurred the pages, silent sobs racking my body. The grief I felt when the ship capsized had nothing on this. So as not to wake Megan, I crumpled the letter in my hand, rushed out of my room and stumbled downstairs. I needed to scream. I needed to release the grief, the anger, from my body. I headed for Charles’ office. It still smelled like cigars and bitterness. I picked up a poker and swiped it along the mantle, destroying his precious golf trophies.

  I smashed his desk, hitting the walnut wood over and over until I left inch-deep gouges. His painting sneered down at me.

  “You fucking bastard.” With strength I didn’t know I had, I yanked his portrait from the wall and shoved the point of the poker through his eyes, then ripped it to shreds. “I hate you.” My voice was hoarse. Tears blurred my eyes and I spun around. I needed something else to damage. His books. I wrenched the leather bound tomes from the shelves, ripping the covers, the pages. “I hope you’re in hell.” I stared at the ceiling. “I hope the devil owns you and is making you suffer.”

  A movement at the door made me stop. If Megan saw me like this, I’d never forgive myself. I swiped my eyes and spun around, praying she wasn’t there. Praying she hadn’t witnessed my outpouring of rage.

  “Theo!” He stood in the threshold, a grim expression on his face as he surveyed the damage.

  “Addy.” He strode forward, removed the poker from my gripped fingers. “Why did you do this?”

  I sank to the floor and buried my head in my hands. “He threatened our lives.” I held out the crumpled letter. “He, he said he would hurt my mom and now she’s dead. She’ll never know how much I loved her. She’ll never know Megan.”

  I gazed up at my husband; the years had matured his face and made him even more handsome, more understanding, more loving.

  “She does,” he said. “You have to let go of your guilt. Even if my father did threaten her, the day we left she made her choice.”

  “I know, but I needed… something.” I sniffed back my tears. “I thought coming here would help me move on. At least now I know she loved me. Even if she let me go, she loved me.” I lowered my head and stared at the carnage surrounding me. “I’m sorry I walked out. For the words I said.”

  “We both said things we didn’t mean.” Theo drew me into his arms and held me tight. “I’ll talk to my brothers about selling this… museum. It’s time for all of us to move on.”

  “I love you so much.” Tears began cascading down my face again. “Thank you for putting up with my craziness.”

  “If you weren’t so batshit crazy, and passionate, and fiery, I wouldn’t love you as much as I do.”

  “Daddy!” A sleepy-eyed Megan zoomed into the room and launched herself at us. “Yay, Daddy’s here.” Her little hands wrapped around our necks, and my heart melted at the sight of her. “I want to go home, Daddy. I don’t like this place. It makes my nose itchy.”

  “Mine, too,” he said, nudging his forehead against hers.

  “Mommy, why are you crying?” She wiped her hands across my face. “Do you have a booboo?”

  “No booboos, baby,” I said, kissing the heel of her hand. “They’re happy tears because Daddy came to get us.”

  I gave Theo a watery smile. “You heard your daughter, Sergeant Briarfield, take us home.”

  “My pleasure, Mrs. Briarfield.”

  Megan wiggled to the floor and grabbed our hands. “Let’s go already.”

  We both smiled and took her hand, swinging her between us as we walked. With one last look into the foyer, I closed the front door, and for the last time, we left Briarfield Hall. The ghosts of my past were finally laid to rest.

  The End

  Exposing His Desires

  A Standalone Novella

  Chapter One

  To shield myself from the punishing mid-summer sun, I sat beneath an oak tree and leaned against the hundred-year old trunk. Screaming toddlers with drooping diapers ran through fountain jets. Raucous teenagers drank from beer bottles hidden in brown paper bags. And sullen office workers strolled around the park while scrolling through their phones.

  My best friend McKenna, looking pale and hungover as hell, plonked down on the grass beside me and cracked open a can of Coke. “I know it sounds farfetched, but I swear to God, Harlow. I was at Succumb last night, and I’m telling you, when I snuck upstairs to the members-only area, Sawyer was there looking hotter than ever.”

  “You’re trying to tell me Sawyer Elliot, my jackass stepbrother, supposed king of the real estate world, is a member of a sex club?” I picked up my turkey sandwich, took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. “Are you sure it wasn’t just someone who looked like him?”

  She drummed her pointed, red fingernails against the can and nodded. “It was him,” she said, sighing. “God, he was magnificent. I thought he was hot when we were teenagers. But Holy Hannah, the man he’s grown into is a work of art.”

  “Did he recognize you?”

  “He was too busy whipping the ass of a blindfolded woman. Who knew Mr. Moneybags was a sleazy kinkster?”

  My appetite gone, I threw my sandwich into its paper wrapper and balled a napkin in my hand. “I’d hardly call him a sleaze. Lots of people are into that lifestyle. What were you doing there anyway?”

  “I wanted to see if the rumors about the place were true. Getting in was hell.”

  “Let me guess, you promised someone sexual favors if they got you in.”

  She laughed and raised her soda in salute. “You know me too well. I snuck through the kitchens and promised the chef I’d meet him when the club closed and give him a blowjob.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Don’t worry, Miss Prissy Pants, I didn’t. I was too busy having some guy lick my feet.”

  I stared at her. “You went to a sex club, promised someone a blowjob, saw my estranged stepbrother whip a girl, and then made a guy lick your boots? Did I fall into an alternate universe?”

  McKenna was my oldest friend and crazy adventurous, too. Sometimes I wished I was more like her, but no matter how much I tried, I always took the safe route, never stepping outside the lines.

  “You should totally go spy on him,” she said. “How awesome of an article would that make? Your boss would probably give you a promotion for exposing all the seedy stuff that goes on there.”

  “Why would I do that?” I shoved on my sunglasses then hugged my knees to my chest.

  “Um, hello, promotion. More money. College loans.”

  “There’s no way I’d stoop that low. If that’s what he’s into, then good for him.”

  “Well, at least next time come with me so we can spy on him together. We could have so much fun.”

  “I have zero interest in spying on my stepbrother. I haven’t seen him in God knows how long. At least seven years.”

  “This could be your way of getting back at him for all the shitty things he did to you—to us—growing up.”

  “Sure, I’ll tell the world his secrets and explai
n it was payback for the pranks he’d played before his brain had fully developed. That would earn me a bunch of journalistic respect.”

  “Wimp.”

  “Whatever.”

  Thanks to Sawyer, my teenage years had been excruciating. I was way overweight and had major skin issues. It’d taken years to heal the wounds inflicted on me by Sawyer and his friends. The privileged world of St. Thomas’s—a private school so saturated with ostentatious wealth, it might as well have been called Richlandia. Perky cheerleaders and knuckleheaded sports stars ruled that kingdom with a cruel hand.

  The summer before college, I’d discovered Sawyer reading my diary, and I thought my world would end. By the time I grabbed it from him, he’d already read all the secrets of my soul, my innermost feelings and dreams—most of which involved him. His only comment: he wouldn’t even go for me if I were the last girl on earth.

  I hadn’t seen Sawyer since our parents separated, which was right before I started college. Sawyer’s dad decided he wanted a younger version of my mom, which was fine with her because she’d decided she liked screwing around with college kids.

  My family was all kinds of fucked up. Sometimes I wondered if I was the only normal one—because having a crush on the guy I’d spent every day of my life with for fifteen years was normal.

  I was over it. I wouldn’t blame any of my fuckups on him or on dumb high school kids.

  After college, I landed an intern spot at The Times. And thanks to a sometimes healthy diet, my skin was clear and my figure—while still curvier than most—wasn’t obese. But, thanks to my many years of comfort eating, my boobs, stomach, and thighs would forever bear crisscrossed, silvery stretch marks.

  “I still think you should consider doing an exposé,” she said. “I saw politicians and movie stars. Lots of gossip.”

  “If I wrote for a supermarket rag, maybe. But I’m not interested in what goes on in people’s private lives unless it affects the safety of the country.”