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Her Twin Stepbrothers

Page 4

by Terry Towers


  ~*~ TT ~*~

  Sam

  Eric was a fucking douche. A closed-minded douche.

  “I’m heading to bed.” Slamming the barely-touched beer on the coffee table, a bit sloshing out from the top of the bottle, I stood. Without another word to my brother, I made my way upstairs. We could have at least had a level-headed conversation about it. We needed to sit down and really discuss our options, even ones that seemed crazy. Sure, it wasn’t something I envisioned ever being involved with, but it could be the lifeline we needed.

  I stopped in my tracks, standing still and mulling over a possibility. Maybe Andrea was getting into my head. Maybe my lust over her and what had happened between us earlier was overriding my common sense. Was she sweeping me up in her world of insanity?

  Shit, I thrust a hand in my hair in frustration. What if Eric was right?

  Shaking my head, I continued up the stairs.

  Reaching the top of the stairs, I walked past Andy’s room and paused. I could hear the sound of her sobbing softly on the other side of the door. She’d been so stressed over the past few months. The closer we got to the point where closing was no longer an option but a reality, the worse she got. Taking a step towards the door, I poised my hand, preparing to knock and hesitated. Would she even want to speak to me after the incident in the bar? She’d taken off and refused to talk to me on the way home, keeping a couple of steps ahead of me the entire time. Fifteen minutes of stone silence, aside from the sound of our footsteps on the concrete sidewalk. I hadn’t planned on making a move on her. Sure, I’d daydreamed about it, masturbated to it happening plenty of times, but never imagined it would actually happen.

  Making a decision that there was no way I could go to sleep before making things right, I knocked. “Andy?”

  She didn’t answer.

  Grabbing the knob, I attempted to open the door, but it wouldn’t turn. Locked. Shit.

  “Andy, please. Talk to me.”

  “Go away!” came the reply from the other side of the door, followed by a soft sob.

  “Come on. It’s me, Sam. Please, let’s talk.”

  Stupid ass. Fucking stupid ass, I silently chastised myself. Eric was right. It was a stupid idea. If she couldn’t handle me touching her in private, then there was no way we could go through with it.

  “I know it’s you, Sam, I’m not an idiot. I don’t want to talk!”

  “We need to, Andy. Let me in.” Dammit, I didn’t want to be doing this with her through the door. Especially when Eric could've easily come within earshot if he stood at the base of the stairs. We’d just keep it to ourselves. It was just a stupid, crazy thing we’d done. Heat of the moment. A dare that went too far. Eric didn’t need to know—he’d flip his lid, and I’d end up tackling a battle on two fronts.

  “I said go away, Sam.”

  This was bullshit, and I had no intention of letting it go this easily. No way in hell.

  “I swear to god, Andy, you’ll be opening this door, or I’ll take the damned thing off of the hinges. We’re not going to go to sleep without discussing what happened.”

  “What happened?”

  Well, fuck me. I groaned inwardly, hearing my brother coming up the stairs. With a sigh, I turned to face my brother as he reached the top step and began walking towards me.

  “Just…” I sighed. Throwing my hands up in the air, I shrugged and forced an exasperated look onto my face. “You know Andy. Drama, drama, drama.”

  Eric looked at the closed door and then to me. After a moment, he nodded. “Yeah. Just leave her alone. She’ll come around.” Without another word, Eric strode past me and into his own room.

  Well, fuckity, fuck, fuck. With Eric just down the hallway, there was no way I’d be able to follow through with his threat, not without inviting questions. My brother could always sense when I wasn’t being truthful. I was just grateful that Eric seemed to be too frustrated with us both to pay much attention or give the tension much thought.

  Frustrated, I waited a moment to ensure that Eric would be preoccupied with whatever he planned on doing in his room, and I approached her door again, knocking lightly. “Andy. I want to talk. Please, open up and talk to me,” I said in a voice barely louder than a whisper, but I knew she heard me.

  Chapter 4

  Andrea

  Curled up in a little ball on my bed, clutching a silver framed photograph to my chest of myself and my father, tears streaming down my cheeks. I ignored the knocks at my door, the last thing I wanted to do at that moment was talk to my stepbrothers— especially not Sam. I couldn’t believe I'd allowed things to get out of hand. How in the hell would I be able to face him again, after what we’d just done?

  As usual, I had a stupid idea, and now a line was crossed, and I didn’t know if we could go back to how it was before.

  “Andy, I want to talk. Please open up and talk to me,” Sam said in a voice barely louder than a whisper from the other side of the locked door.

  “Go. Away. Sam.” I called back.

  “No. Not until we discuss this.”

  “I’m not discussing it now. Go away.” I looked down at the picture again. The wounds of the loss were still very fresh. When I closed my eyes and concentrated, I could still smell my father’s aftershave and hear his voice telling me he was proud of me. That he knew one day his special girl would take over the bar and make it so much more than he could ever imagine. Or maybe I’d find my own path. He didn’t care, he only cared that I was happy.

  I’d failed him.

  The sobs returned, leaving me gasping for breath and fearing I might vomit. It took a couple minutes, but with effort, I was able to suppress the sobs and regain control of my emotions. I think I’d cried more after my father’s death than I had in my entire life. I was just a little too young when my mother died to fully comprehend what had happened. My father had said she’d gone to heaven. By the way he described ‘heaven,’ it sounded like it was a good place. For a little girl who didn’t know better, I was saddened that I’d never see my mother again, but I took solace in the fact she was in a good place.

  I was no longer that naive.

  There was silence on the other side of the door. Had it not been for the fact I hadn’t heard any retreating footsteps, I would have thought he’d left.

  “Andy…”

  Silence, and then footsteps as they retreated down the hallway and towards his room.

  Slowly, I uncurled my body and sat up on the bed. Slipping from the mattress, I walked over to my dresser and placed the photo back in its place. Wallowing in old wounds wasn’t going to fix my problem. I had to fix this problem. Looking up from the photo, I stared at my image in the mirror. My blue eyes were swollen and red-rimmed. Tears had left black streaks of mascara and eyeliner down my cheeks. I looked like a royal, hot mess.

  As I straightened, pushing my shoulder’s back, chin tilted up just a smidge, I saw something in me. It was strength and determination. I’d save the bar and this house. I’d find a way to get us out of the predicament we were in. The whole porn idea wasn’t great, I told myself. A fleeting shot in the dark. But there was an answer out there.

  Just gotta think outside the box, I told myself.

  ~*~ TT ~*~

  It was a new day. Maybe we could just leave the events of the previous evening behind us? But the problem was that I still didn’t have any idea how to save the bar, and at the moment, there didn’t seem to be any viable solution.

  There was also the issue of Sam. Maybe it was just the fact that my emotions were in turmoil that I’d reacted so badly to what happened with Sam. Maybe. Despite my little pep talk, though, my stomach still did a little flip flop when I entered the kitchen where my stepbrothers were already seated and having breakfast.

  “Breakfast is on the counter,” Eric stated, watching me as I entered the kitchen. He seemed to be staring at me with particular interest. Had Sam told him what happened? Did he sense it? Sam and Eric seemed to have an eerie way sensing thi
ngs about each other. I glanced over at Sam, but he kept his eyes downcast, focusing on his scrambled eggs. He was pissed. I could tell it in his demeanor and his refusal to meet my gaze.

  Shit.

  Running a hand through my hair, I walked over to the kitchen counter where there were pancakes, hash browns, and bacon ready to be self-served. Grabbing a plate from the overhead cabinet, I served myself a healthy portion of everything. Sitting down, I looked down at the plate, silently counting the calories. A solid hour on the treadmill.

  Once seated, I began eating in silence, periodically looking up at Sam and Eric but not allowing eye contact. This had to be the quietest breakfast our family had ever experienced. I was just forking the last bite of hash browns into my mouth when Eric finally broke the silence.

  “Hey, so I have an idea about the bar.”

  My head perked up, my mood lightening. An idea? Thank god!

  “What is it?” I stared into Eric’s eyes and smiled, waiting for the solution to our problem.

  “I think we need to scope out all of the hot clubs and bars in the city and see what they’re doing that we could replicate cheaply.”

  My heart sunk a little. Not exactly the miracle solution I’d been hoping for, but at least it was something.

  Eric continued, “So I was thinking you could start checking out the bars on the north side of town. He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a white slip of paper, passing it across the table to me. “Here’s a list of clubs and bars I think you should try tonight.”

  Accepting the piece of paper, I looked down at the list a names. I was somewhat familiar with most of them. A couple others, not so much. After examining the list, I looked back up to meet Eric’s gaze. “Alright. I can do this. You guys manning the bar, then?” I could feel Sam’s eyes on me, but I refused to look over at him. Even though it wasn’t busy, the three of us would always bartend together, seven nights a week. One on bar, two out back studying, unless it picked up and got busy.

  Eric shrugged. “It’s a Tuesday night, we really don’t need the both of us there.”

  “Hardly, need one of us.” Sam chimed in, and this was the first time I looked over at him, my eyes narrowing. He reverted his attention back to the his breakfast without saying another word.

  But it was the truth. Monday to Wednesday were slow days for every bar, but ours was like a graveyard those days. If you were looking for a great place to take a nap, Monday through Wednesday at the Foxy would be the perfect place.

  “Okay.” I nodded. “Sounds good.”

  ~*~ TT ~*~

  The Gauntlet. That’s the club I was about to step into, and it was the fourth on the list. The first three were a bit of a bust. Nothing all too spectacular or unique about them. They were all only a little busier than we were. But then again, it was Tuesday night, no club did all that well tonight anyhow. There was a couple of the four who were offering weekend specials and live events, so I figured I’d go back on the weekend to see how well those promos did for the clubs.

  There was a doorman for The Gauntlet. Even though I was now twenty-one, I still felt a little nervous approaching doormen. As I approached, I pulled my wallet from my handbag and found my driver’s license and passed it to him. Taking out a hand light, he shined it on the card, examining the date, looking back up at me, and then down to the card again.

  “Have fun,” he grunted, passing it back to me.

  “Thanks.” I gave him a smile, shoving my ID back into my wallet as I brushed past him and entered the club.

  Loud techno music greeted me as I entered the club. This place was certainly busier than the other three. Still not rocking-down-the-house busy, but there was no doubt they were turning a decent profit tonight. That was encouraging. Maybe The Gauntlet would be a great case study for us.

  I slowly made my way through the bar, my eyes taking in all the details, from the walls that were painted to resemble graffiti, to the clientele who were very young, hardly old enough to be able to drink. There was a number of scantily clad women who I would bet were not old enough to be here. Apparently, the bouncers at the front of the club weren’t all that observant.

  Hmm, interesting. If that was the case, it was only a matter of time before the place got raided, and their profits would be eaten up by fines. We took underage drinking seriously at The Foxy. Morality aside, an underage drinking fine would be the last nail in our coffin for sure.

  Walking up to the bar, I had to wait a few minutes before the female bartender had a moment to finish taking care of the other patrons before serving me. I glanced over at the dance floor, which had strobe lights, making the dancers look almost robotic. I really liked strobe lighting, but Sam and Eric were of the opinion that it was passé. Passé or not, it seemed to be a hit here.

  “What can I get for you?”

  I gave the bartender a smile. She was a pretty, busty red head. I noticed that there were more than a few male eyes on her. No doubt, she was a stunning woman and they all wanted to bang her. “Gin sling, please.”

  “Coming right up!” she smiled at me and began putting together my drink.

  Pulling a bill from my wallet, I waited until she returned with my drink and passed the money to her, accepting the drink and waving off the change, even though I could have used the extra dollar or so. But considering she was a fellow bartender, I couldn’t not leave a tip.

  Drink in hand, I casually strolled through the club. I liked it for the most part, but it lacked something. It seemed too impersonal. But what did I know was that this club seemed to making money, whereas mine wasn’t.

  I sighed.

  “Hey, baby.”

  I groaned inwardly as I heard a male voice from behind me. I wasn’t here to be picked up. The last thing I needed was the problem of a man in my life right now. All I’d ever had in my life was issues when it came to men—cheaters, liars, the works, those were the types of men who walked into my life. I’m not sure whether it was me and my poor choices or if I was just a loser magnet. Maybe a little bit of both, but either way, trusting men wasn’t something I did well.

  Turning, I faced the man behind me. The first thing that hit me was the fact his breath smelled like booze. Once I got over the smell of his breath, I looked up and into his eyes. I gave him a smile, but made sure it was friendly, without being encouraging. “Hi.”

  “You here alone?”

  I didn’t miss a beat in my response. “Nope. My boyfriend is in the washroom.”

  “Ahhh.” His smile widened.

  Oh God, he’s going to try and go in for the kill anyhow. I had to fight the instinct to roll my eyes at him. If a girl says she has a boyfriend or claims to, then get the hint and hit the road. Men like him annoyed the shit out of me, and I dealt with them every day at work.

  “But are you happy with him?”

  Flashes of Sam raced through my head. The orgasm he gave me the other day was still very fresh in my mind, and my pussy ached just from the thought of it. If he could do that with just his fingers, then what could he do with other things, like his tongue? The thought of him between my legs, devouring me, sent a shiver down my spine. But as soon as the feeling of yearning swept over me, so did the feelings of shame and embarrassment.

  “I gotta go.” Without even touching my drink, I set it on the ledge behind me and rushed off, away from the dude in the bar and attempting to escape my emotions. But leaving my emotions behind wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped it would be. They haunted me as I raced across the bar and into the cool night air.

  As I exited the bar, I took a deep breath in and slowly released it.

  “You okay, miss?”

  I turned to see the doorman looking down at me, a look of concern on his face.

  “I, umm,” I ran a hand through my hair and gave my head a shake.

  “You look really pale.” He took a step towards me and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Maybe you need to sit down.”

  “No.” I shrugged his
hand off of me and gave him a tight smile. “I’m fine. Thank you though. I just needed a breath of fresh air.”

  He hesitated.

  “Really.” My smile became more genuine. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

  Hurrying my way towards my car, I tried to keep all thoughts of the brothers from my mind. I didn’t need the stress of worrying about Sam. Not now. Not ever. I had to force him from my mind. It was an accident that would never, ever happen again.

 

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