Step Scandal - Part 3 (3 page)

PRESENT

“Ain’t shit in the house for breakfast.” I slammed the refrigerator door. “Nash!”

My stomach rumbled, and I shook my head. He was probably still passed out in bed. Three words summed up the only things Nash Daughtry loved in this world: booze, bikes, and broads. And at twenty-one, all three of those things were readily available to him any time he liked.

I strutted down the hall of the apartment we shared for the past seven years. The day I turned eighteen I got us out of that hellhole trailer Big Nash had us living in and moved us to a neighborhood in Bolton with good schools. For the first time in our young lives, we knew what it was like to have hot water, ice cold air conditioning, and a kitchen free of roaches and other critters. It was nothing fancy by most people’s standards, but the day we moved in I’d never seen my kid brother smile so big.

Big Nash didn’t give two shits either, that was the sad part. He’d helped us move, seemingly glad to be rid of the two burdens he’d been saddled with the day our mother died of a heroin overdose.

Apparently to our father, eighteen was a perfectly acceptable time to spread your wings and fly away, even if a guy was still in high school. And he didn’t care that I took my brother with me, though I suspect he was well aware Little Nash was better off with me anyway.

I knocked on his bedroom door and let myself in, half expecting to see some buck naked girl twined up in a mess of musty bed sheets.

His bed was empty.

I checked my watch. Nine o’clock. Nash never slept anywhere but his own bed. He’d been that way his whole life. He was very particular about where he stayed, and he’d been known to ditch sleepovers as a kid and walk home in the dead of night just to stay in his own bed.

“Gray!” his voice yelled from down the hall as the door to our place opened and slammed so hard it rattled the walls.

“You stayed out last night,” I said with an entertained smirk as I strutted to the living room. “Who was the lucky lady?”

My face fell when I saw that Nash didn’t have the confident swagger of a man who’d been balls deep in tight pussy all night. His ashen face was bathed in trepidation. He held a hand out, as if to stop me from coming closer.

“Look at me, Gray,” he said, his voice nearly shaking. “I’m going to ask you a question, and I need you to answer me honestly.”

END OF SAMPLE – BIKER STEPBROTHER IS AVAILABLE NOW!