by Rachel Angel
Stepbrother Fighter
A Love in Steps Standalone Novel
Rachel Angel
Stepbrother Fighter
Published by Rebel Kitty
Copyright © 2015 Rachel Angel
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the publisher except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
DEDICATION
For my readers.
Chapter 1
Annabelle
At 14 years old
I shouldn’t have been surprised, and yet I was. Dad was getting married, again, and the way he brought it up, ugh, was so frustrating. I was only fourteen years old and I knew there had to be a bit more decorum to the process than what he had; he’d already been married more times than many people could afford to take a vacation, and always to these dimwitted bimbos who couldn’t even spell my name Anabelle correctly.
Over the years, I’d grown used to basically raising myself, because Dad was always busy and on the go with things that were a bit more important to him than trying to understand a daughter. Thank the Lord for my natural sense of independence. If I had to rely on him, well, I would have not gotten very far, unless it was a situation solved by handing over some money.
Oh the conversations. “Where are you off to now, Dad?” I’d ask. “Just business, honey. It would bore you,” he said.
When I countered that I actually liked business and wanted to learn, he’d laugh at me, like I was silly for saying it.
Then he would buy me purses, designer clothes, a horse…material things which his vast wealth could easily afford, and take off with his new bride or my absentee new stepmother barely older than me, leaving me at my boarding school to be raised mostly by people who were paid to do it—it was their job, had nothing at all to do with love.
“So, he’s getting married again?” my roommate Tiffany asked, sitting across from me.
“Yup, again, to a former model,” I said. “Maybe he’s hit the jackpot this time.”
“Kudos for always being the optimist,” Tiffany said.
“You’ve got to be. Hard to understand, for someone like you—one set of parents.”
“Ya know, Anabelle, I like to think that he’s just lost because your mom had been his soul mate and when she died, he just felt like it was game over.”
“Now who’s being the optimist, Tiff.”
“Romantic, Anabelle.”
“Bet I know what that means.”
“What?” Tiffany asked.
“You’ve got a crush on someone. You always drift off into those types of worlds and words when you’ve got the hots for someone,” I said, nodding my head and walking over to my window, staring down into the courtyard.
“Yeah, sure do. But what I said still stands true,” she said, coming up next to me.
With my eyes still outside, I said, “At least this one is only six years younger than him. She actually could be my mother.”
“Wow! She must be really amazing. What’s her name?”
“I can’t remember. Sad, huh? On my way off to a big fancy hotel for a soiree and I can’t remember her name.”
“Better learn it, she sounds like she may be the one who lasts,” Tiffany said.
“Based on age?” I asked her, raising a suspicious eye brow. My roommate was wonderful, but she was a bit too unrealistic in my opinion, but I envied her for that in a way. It seemed much easier than always being doubtful and realistic.
“Well, I’ve got to get to the library and study for old man Dithers American History exam on Monday.” I looked at Tiffany and laughed as she wrinkled up her face and animatedly slung her backpack over her shoulder.
“Have fun. Give you the social report Sunday night, okay?” I said, raising my thumb up and wrinkling my nose.
“Okay.”
Then off she went and I waited…and waited. So I paced around my room, waiting for the announcement that my ride was there, not feeling like going down to the lobby and fielding questions from the overly nosy girls at the school. So many thoughts bombarded me. Okay, I was a little curious about number five on the list for Dad. Was she a blonde or a brunette this time? An ǖber wealthy woman by birth, or through marriages and settlements?
The sudden ‘whirlwind wedding’ was the first one that was really intriguing to me, because I found out that the woman that my father was marrying happened to have a son that was my age. In fact, he went to the private all boys’ school in Dallas, William Bryan Academy. Being an only child, I’d always wanted a sibling, but many of my step siblings, which came and went with the seasons, were pains in the ass, so… What would this one be like? It was mildly amusing that we were within an hour of each other, but would likely live like we were an ocean apart for as long as this latest marriage lasted. Wow…I was tired of assuming the worst case scenario in Dad’s marriages and eager to actually have him find happiness and longevity in one.
This future stepbrother had better be decent, or at least tolerable. Even if I only see him twice a year max, I didn’t want to deal with a jerk. He was either an ultra preppy, which would make me laugh at him, or a jock, which would make me roll my eyes. I was sure of it because I’d met enough prep school boys and most of them fell into one of those two descriptions. Even at my school, I was the outcast that way, not wanting to be all made up or wearing uncomfortable designer clothes when I didn’t have to be in uniform. I just wanted to be me so I dreamed of the day when I’d be freed from this juvenile educational prison and move on to college as an adult, making my own choices.
“Hey Anabelle,” Emma from across the hall said, swinging her head around the door. “Your chariot awaits.”
That did make me smile. Benjamin! “Thanks.”
“Another wedding, huh?”
“Didn’t take long for the word to spread this time,” I said.
“Seldom does,” she said.
“Stepbrother in this one,” I said.
“I wonder if he’s a hottie,” Emma said, her green eyes lighting up.
“If he is, does it really matter? He’s going to be my stepbrother.”
“But not mine,” she replied. She started to walk away and put her head back around the corner of the door frame. “Take some pics if he’s good looking, ‘k?”
“Okay,” I said. I grabbed my suitcase and my garment bag with my dress for the wedding in it and then made my way down the long corridor, making my way through the thick mahogany door and out of the red brick building.
Standing on the circular driveway, Benjamin walked up to me with purposeful strides, wearing the big smile that I loved. He was my driver when I needed one and Dad’s when he was in Dallas. He looked like a mafia guy to me, maybe Mr. Bubbles from Lilo and Stitch. He gave the impression not to mess with him, but inside, he was golden and kind, the closest thing I had to a grandfather, really.
“Hello Miss Anabelle.”
“Benjamin, how are you?”
“Very well, things are wonderful and the Mrs. is great.”
“Fantastic, those pecan tarts she made for me last time I saw you are still talked about. The girls loved them—a lot.”
Benjamin laughed and we bantered for a few minutes as he drove away from the school before we got down to the business of Dad, which always came around. “So, have you met the new future wife yet?” I asked. The two of us had been through all of these weddings together.
&n
bsp; “No, but she’s from this area. Very affluent and well known.”
“Yeah? So had Dad been here and didn’t even call me?” I asked, rolling my eyes. Typical, really. When he felt the onset of love he forgot about me quite often. I didn’t hold it against him, exactly, because I’d rather he keep it to himself than bore me with the details and the ‘why this one is different’ explanations.
“No, he actually met her in Vegas. She was at the casino.”
“Oh, how long have they known each other, Benjamin?” I asked, leaning back and flopping my head against the backrest.
Benjamin’s eyes looked at me in the rear view mirror and he said, “About a month.”
“I’m sure he knows everything about her then,” I said sarcastically.
“He does look very happy,” Benjamin said, “again.”
Then the two of us laughed and moved on to more fun subjects, such as the upcoming football drafts.
The Mercedes pulled up to William Bryan Academy and I looked around in awe. The place was so much nicer looking than my all girls school. State of the art sports courts outside, everything looking as pristine as if it was a palace, and this proper feeling about it.
“Remember, his name is Ian,” Benjamin said as he pulled up.
“Got it.” I got out and walked into the school, up to the receptionist’s desk, but no one was there. I looked around and every boy that walked by stopped and stared at me. It was so annoying, but I was getting to that age, I guess, and according to others, I had a certain look to me, an appealing one. I was still working on growing comfortable with it.
There were some doors to the right of the foyer that I was standing in that led out to a courtyard. Since no one was there to guide me, I’d check out there.
I looked out through the doors and was immediately drawn to some commotion happening in the corner. I quickly assessed it and rolled my eyes. “Bullies,” I grumbled. There were three guys hovering around some guy I could barely see. Smaller and younger. Real nice. Why did people act like such jerks sometimes? It bugged the crap out of me.
Wasn’t in the mood to play savior, but I was eager to stop it. I walked out into the courtyard, not caring if I was supposed to be there or not, and went closer. In between those big buffoons, I saw a boy with blonde curls, blue eyes, full lips, and an angelic face. Beautiful. He looked so passive and patient, like he was riding out the bullying storm.
With a smile on my face and excitement for the unexpected challenge, I walked right up to the group and in between them. Staring at the blonde angel, I gave him a sweet kiss on his lips and said, “Come on, I’ve been waiting for you, baby. I can’t wait for our weekend to get started.”
Every one of those guys stopped dead in their tracks and looked at me and then to the boy. He was looking at me, too. The look he wore made me want to laugh and he mouthed, “Me?” I winked and motioned with my finger for him to come over.
“That is your girlfriend,” one of the guys said.
I didn’t give the boy a chance to answer and instead, I said, “If only, I keep trying, but he won’t ask.”
Then the two of us walked away and I grabbed his hand for emphasis. We walked right back into the foyer and then I started laughing. He joined in.
Chapter 2
The boy looked at me with appreciation and then his cheeks flushed. He tried to pull his hand away and I let it go. “Thanks,” he said cautiously.
“No problem. I hate bullies. The looks on their faces, though. Classic!”
“Yeah, you shut them right up…for now,” the guy said.
We stood next to each other, the exact same height and I looked into his eyes for a second, seeing something that made me feel like I was connected to him. Maybe it was my desire to be a heroine or something.
“So,” I began. “Run into them often?” I felt a bit nervous suddenly.
“Unfortunately, all too much. I think they have radar for when the teachers aren’t around.”
He shrugged and I admired how nonchalant he acted about it. My heart went out to him. It had to tear him up inside. “Bunch of idiots,” I said.
“When you’re the runt that’s what happens, I guess. I’ve just never had a beautiful girl save me before.” He clamped his lips together, embarrassed about what he just said.
“Beautiful?” I asked.
He turned redder, but he looked so sweet. “Yeah,” he admitted.
“I’d say you’re beautiful. Looks like you could be a model with that hair and those cheekbones, not to mention those long eyelashes,” I said, shaking my head.
“That’s not me. But my mom was a model,” he said.
Ding. Ding. Ding. That sent an alert out. “You’re not Ian by any chance, are you?”
“Yeah, how did you know that?”
“I’m Anabelle, Steve Tottheim’s daughter.”
“You’re my future stepsister?” His jaw dropped.
My heart dropped…just a bit. “It seems so.”
“Awkward, about the beautiful thing and all, now,” Ian said.
“Not at all, you’re the next in line of many beautiful step siblings for me, but I think I like you better,” I said, laughing.
“Well, let me get my bag. I’ll meet you outside. What car?”
“The only one there, a black Mercedes S500.”
Ian nodded. “Well, I guess we have a wedding to go to.”
“Indeed,” I said. I watched him walk away and sensed that he’d been through his share of weddings, too, from the way he said that. Two fourteen year olds with a lot in common; that was a good start.
Chapter 3
The car pulled up in front of The Mansion and Benjamin turned around and smiled at us. “We’re here.”
“Impressive, this is a first at this place,” I said. “How about you, Ian?”
He looked at me and just shook his head. I saw how distracted he was and could only guess about it, but suspected he had the same series of thoughts running through his head about me. Would this be the forever one? Would I get along with my step-parent?
“It never gets easier, really,” I said thoughtfully.
“Just weirder,” he said.
“Let’s go inside and I’ll make sure you’re checked in,” Benjamin said.
“When will Dad get here?” I asked.
“In a few hours, I suppose. He’s flying in from Vegas. Scheduled to land about an hour before the ceremony.”
I knew what that meant; I wouldn’t see him or have a word with him until he was married again. Couldn’t get more untraditional than us, which was good on occasion, but also a little sad if I were to be brutally honest.
In our suite, Ian and I looked at each other and smiled awkwardly. A three bedroom suite for the two kids—insane. Who did shit like that?
“Well, I’d better get ready, I guess.”
Ian nodded. “Do you want to walk down to the hall together?”
“Yeah, that’d be great,” I said. I knew that Ian and I were on the same page—it was pointless to think we’d see our parents before the ceremony.
A half hour later we were in the room. I spotted my father up front and walked over by him, leaving Ian sitting in a chair in the back of the room. He was a bit sulky and I thought that maybe he needed some time alone. Didn’t want to bug him.
“Daddy, hi,” I said, walking up to him.
“Anabelle, hello,” he said. And then he extended his hand and shook mine—kid you not—and patted me on the back like I was part of some boy’s club.
“Nervous?” I asked.
“Excited. She’s a wonderful woman. She’ll make for an amazing step-mother, too. She has a son your age.”
“Yeah, I met him already. Are we going to do something as a new family tomorrow?” I asked.
He snorted at me and said, “I forgot to tell you, you’ll be going back to your school tonight, after the reception. Evelyn and I booked a last minute Mediterranean cruise for a honeymoon.”
“And wh
at about Ian?” I asked, frowning.
“Oh, Ian, that’s right. Evelyn’s son. Do you like him?”
“Yeah, but that’s not what I asked about,” I said. “Haven’t you even met him?”
“No,” my dad replied.
“Well, come on. He’s really nice. I like him a lot, actually, which is great.” I placed my hand on my dad’s arm to guide him over, but someone else came up to talk to him.
He shrugged and said, “In a bit, dear.”
I rolled my eyes and went to the back of the room to sit by Ian again. I felt like sulking just a bit. I was just so angry. Why even bother having me here? It wasn’t necessarily, really. I knew he did it for appearances sake and had some perverse notion that it made him a better dad, but it really didn’t. It was so hard to like someone, but not get through to them. And it was insane to look at my dad and see a project more than a parent. He was the only parent I had, yet he couldn’t even spare a few minutes with me. Let alone meeting his new stepson.
Benjamin came up and sat next to Ian. I leaned forward so Ian wasn’t in my way and looked him in the eye. “Dad’s out to impress, isn’t he?”
Benjamin only nodded.
Then I looked at Ian. “Seems like your mom is someone special.”
Ian chuckled while still looking ahead. “She’s pretty persuasive when she wants to be.”
“So is Dad. Tell me, Ian, your mom, she’s at least at least five years older than me, right?”
“Maybe ten. And your dad, he has his own teeth, right?”
We started laughing. Making light of the entire thing was really the smartest choice.
Then Benjamin snorted, almost spitting out the water he’d just taken a sip of.
“Guess what else, Ian?”
“What?” he asked.
I grinned. “As far as I know, he has his own hair, too.”
He looked at me and smiled, but grabbed my hand, squeezing it softly. I was surprised by it a bit, but mostly, I felt comfort in it. It might not be so bad to go through this with a stepbrother that I liked, even if we barely ever saw each other due to us being in our academic prisons that the outside world looked at as boarding school.
