Stepbrother Romance 2 - Consumed: A New Adult Alpha Billionaire Romance (6 page)

“Okay, I’m done. I won’t utter another word about the gorgeous French doors leading out to the gardens.”

“Mom.” I burst out laughing.

My mother was such a goof sometimes. But I loved her. With all my heart. If I could have told her the truth, she would have understood why I couldn’t stay in Kent’s house, or accept his gifts. But I just couldn’t. But the truth was too humiliating to even speak out loud.

When I was a little kid, I used to talk about how I couldn’t wait to be a “grown up.” Life would be wonderful when I hit that magical age. Absolutely perfect. I would have my own car. I would go wherever I wanted. I would do whatever I wanted. All I had to do was get to the age of eighteen--make that, twenty-two--and everything would fall into place.

So much for that.

My rose-colored glasses had been totally crushed.

I was twenty-two and reality was all I saw. And it was nowhere as wonderful as I’d expected.

My best friend wasn’t speaking to me because I’d run out on her when she needed me most. Of course she didn’t realize the real reason why I’d left--because her idiotic husband had tried to fuck me while she was in the hospital after having their baby.

I was sleeping on a couch that wasn’t big enough for a toddler. I woke up with a stiff back and headache every morning.

I still hadn’t found a decent job.

The only thing that had gone decently for me was that I had been spared seeing my lying, scumbag of a stepbrother, Kent, since I’d returned to his property. But I knew today I wouldn’t be so lucky. Today Mom and her husband were hosting a big party and Kent would be there.

Oh, joy. 

I dosed up on caffeine then took a shower. I considered going without makeup but opted instead to take some time to look decent. Dirk had a lot of friends. With any luck, some of them might be my age. It was highly unlikely, but what the hell? I was young. I was single. Why not make the best of what was likely to be a miserable day? Right?

Wearing a cute dress and sandals, I helped Mom with the last minute preparations. Staying busy helped with the butterflies. Before I knew it, the guests were arriving, and Mom and Dirk were greeting them with hugs and enthusiastic exclamations. I stood nearby, watching, on the lookout for anyone my age. So far the closest was a guy who still had most of his hair. Granted, the majority of it was silver.

An hour in, and I was pretty sure I was out of luck. If I had to guess, I would estimate the average age of the guests at sixty years old. They were a chatty bunch and friendly enough. A few of them flirted with me a little, promising to introduce me to their sons and grandsons. I smiled at their compliments and laughed at their jokes and tried to have a decent time. As the hours passed and dinner was served, and there was still no sign of Kent, I relaxed. Maybe he was too busy to make the party? Maybe he had other plans?

Could I be so lucky?

Every now and then I tried giving Ransom a call, but she didn’t answer. It had been days since I’d left. I’d called at least once a day, but I’d heard no word back. Not one. I wanted to know what was going on. I needed to know she was okay, that John hadn’t been a dick and left her to fend for herself. I vowed that I would go to her place tomorrow, no matter what, to check on her. The silent treatment had gone on long enough.

I just needed to make it through tonight. So far, that was looking pretty good.

After dinner, everyone sat around the pool, drinking wine and beer and cocktails. I consumed my share of alcohol. It made the evening go by faster. That was, until
he
showed up.

Then time stopped.

Everything else seemed to fade away until the only people who existed were me and Kent. I was aware of nothing, nobody else.

My eyes met his and a sense of dread wound through my body.

Crap.

He was here. And he saw me.

Was his wife with him? Did I want to see her?

Hell no.

I decided now was a fine time to go inside and clean Mom’s kitchen.

As I wound through the increasingly loud and boisterous group, I heard Dirk exclaim, “There he is. Glad you could make it, son.”

A round of cheerful greetings followed.

I wondered if I was the only one who wasn’t happy to see Kent. Probably. Unless he had tried to seduce any of the wives in attendance. They were all decades older than him, but who knew? It was definitely possible.

The carriage house’s interior was blessedly quiet and Kent-free. I went straight to work, gathering the trash littering the puny kitchen. I had my back turned to the door when I heard his voice. But I didn’t need to see him to know it was Kent.

“Are you hiding from me?” Kent taunted.

Yes.
“No, of course not.” I donned a fake smile before turning around. “Why would I hide from you?”

“That’s exactly what I’d like to know.” He moved closer.

I didn’t want him doing that. I didn’t want him looking so damn good either.

Well, would you look at that, the towel had been knocked off the towel bar in the bathroom. That needed to be fixed. Immediately. I scurried away to remedy the extremely urgent problem.

Unfortunately, that was a mistake. A big mistake.

He followed. And now he had me trapped. His big body, with all those muscles, was now standing in the middle of my one and only escape route. “Shayne. Let’s talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I said to his chest. I didn’t want to look in his eyes because if I did, I knew I would melt. I didn’t need to melt. I needed to stay strong, to stay angry.

He grabbed my chin and lifted it. “Shayne.”

Dammit. My eyes met his. I became frozen in place, his piercing gaze drilling through my defenses. “I have never fucking worked so hard for anyone…and failed so miserably.” He grabbed my arm with his free hand and roughly steered me out of the bathroom.

Dazed by his abrupt behavior, I stumbled and fell onto the couch, legs and arms sprawled. Then, in a blink, the shock wore off and the rage blazed through me. “Fuck you!” I shouted. “Don’t ever touch me again.”

“Now that’s better. At least we’re being honest now.” Standing over me, looking satisfied, if not downright pleased, he crossed his arms over his chest. “We are not leaving this room until we talk about what’s going on. Understand?”

How dare he address me like I was a fucking two year old! “You aren’t my parent, so I don’t have to talk about anything with you.” I stood and tried to shove past him. But he was like a fucking mountain.

He clicked his tongue. “What made you so defensive, little sister?”

“None of your business.”

“Maybe it is none of my business, but I want to know.”

“Why? Why do you want to know anything?” Now, unafraid of meeting his gaze, I glared at him. The fury burning through me was too hot to contain. It was coming out. And he was going to feel the burn. Maybe then he’d back the fuck off. “Isn’t one woman enough for you? Or make that two? Or is it three, you sleazy whore. Remember when you told me you couldn’t be my lover? That I was too good for you? Well, you were right. I am too good for your shit.”

“You didn’t believe me before, what changed your mind?”

“Oh, maybe the fact that you’re married. I thought you were just one of those guys—the ones that were a little wild, a little dangerous, but good at heart and respectable. But there isn’t a single cell in your body that’s good or respectable. You are bad, through and through, to the core. And I want nothing to do with you or with anything that belongs to you, including that fucking house you bought. What were you thinking? That you’d keep me there, conveniently, so we could fuck when you got tired of your wife?”

His expression went blank. Whatever he was thinking or feeling, I couldn’t tell. I saw nothing. No anger. No guilt. No remorse. Just…cold, hard nothing.

“I thought you wanted to talk,” I snapped, for some reason fired up because of his shutdown. I wanted him to feel pain, like I was feeling. To suffer. To stay up at night, wondering why things were so freaking messed up. I didn’t want him to just close it all out and stroll away. It wasn’t fair. “This is it, your chance. Tell me I’m wrong about you. Tell me you’re not the asshole I think you are. Tell me I haven’t wasted all my tears on you.”

He shook his head. “No. You’re right.” Cool and eerily calm, he turned and walked to the door. At the exit, he glanced over his shoulder. “I’m sorry for being so fucking weak. If I’d been smarter, stronger, I would’ve kept my hands off you. And you wouldn’t have cried a single tear for someone as worthless as me. I hope you never do that again. If I have anything to say about it, you won’t.”

He left.

And I cried again. More tears. For that worthless piece of shit.

But I vowed they would be the last.

It took my mom pleading and nagging repeatedly to finally get me to return to the party. By then everyone’s lips were well lubricated, thanks to the massive amounts of alcohol flowing at the self-serve bar. There was boisterous laughter echoing through the night, and even a handful of fully-dressed guests swimming in the pool.

There, in the center of it all, was Mom, looking dignified and beautiful. Mingling. Laughing. I couldn’t believe this was her life now. It was so unlike her. The beautiful dress. The glittery jewelry. The glass of champagne dangling from her manicured fingers.

Was I wrong to be a little weirded out by the sight of her looking so different? Shouldn’t I be happy for her? After all those years of hard work, struggle, and stress, she could finally be happy. She could smile and laugh. She could take vacations to Alaska.

Then again, maybe I wouldn’t feel so out of place, or upset, if I hadn’t had that little discussion with Kent.

That was probably it.

Trying to make myself invisible, I sat in a chair at the far end of the patio--closer to the shrubs than the partiers--and consumed alcohol. If there was one thing I knew for a fact, it was that alcohol could quiet my mind for a while. It wasn’t a permanent fix for my problems, but it was a good option for now. I needed to forget a lot--the situation with Ransom. The stupid argument I’d had with Kent. The fact that I was a college grad and still didn’t have a fulltime job or a place to live. The fact that now that Mom was married, I was really fucking lonely. I hadn’t realized how much I’d relied upon her, to be my parent, my friend, the center of my universe until now. She had spun out of orbit around my spoiled little ass and had settled at the fringe of a far galaxy, and I had no right to shove her back where I wanted her to be.

More alcohol. That was what I needed.

I headed back to the bar and poured another glass of wine. My hands were a little fumbly as I reached for a cocktail napkin.

The guy next to me handed me one with a smile. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” I said, taking in the brilliance of his expression.

Now there was a guy who could emote.

Every feature on his freaking face said
talk to me I’m friendly
. And those features—the big, brown eyes, straight nose, and strong jaw—were not just speaking my language, but they were also very nice to look at. With the dark hair, cut in a young, shaggy style, and a body that saw its share of time in a gym, he didn’t really fit with the demographic of Mom and Dirk’s party crowd. “Excuse me if this is rude, but you look a few decades too young for this crowd.”

“And I could say the same.” His voice was a nice, deep baritone. Rich and silky.

“The hostess’ daughter.” I extended a hand. “Shayne.”

“Friend of the host. Zack.” He took my hand in his and gave it a shake. His grip was just right, neither too tight nor too weak. Firm, strong, just like his eye contact. “My father has been friends with Dirk since before I was born. They were in the Air Force together.”

“It’s good to meet you, Zack.” I noticed his hands were empty, now that he was done shaking my hand. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Sure.”

I motioned to the bar. “What’ll it be? If there’s one thing I’ve learned about the Payne men, they keep a well-stocked bar at their parties.”

“Beer is fine.”

“Sure.” There was a huge barrel full of iced bottled beer sitting next to the bar. I fished out the coldest bottle I could find and handed it to him. As the bottle exchanged hands, our fingertips brushed and a little spark of something jolted between us. Our gazes met. I opened my mouth to say something but just then one of the partygoers laughed so loud, anything I would have said would have been drowned out. “This gathering’s a little loud. Would you like to go somewhere a little quieter and talk?” I shouted.

“Sure.” Zack motioned for me to precede him, which I did, leading him down the path to the private sitting area in the back of the property.

As we neared the clearing, memories of what had happened there with Kent flashed through my head and I shoved them away. Would I ever stop reacting that way to Kent? Would any other man ever make me forget?

Suddenly feeling awkward, I sat on the bench and stared at the water beyond. “Have you been back here before?” I asked.

“Sure. Once or twice.” He sat close enough for our legs to touch and took a long swallow of his beer. “It’s been a while. I forgot how nice it is back here. Quiet.”

“It is.” Trying not to be too obvious, I shifted slightly, twisting my body to face Zack while inching back so we didn’t touch anymore. When we were in the middle of that crowd, I didn’t feel uncomfortable with this guy. He’d seemed so friendly. But now that we were alone, I realized I didn’t know anything about him, and that had me on edge. Not that he’d done something wrong, to make me think the worst. I just…I was just being paranoid, I guessed.

“You’ve gotten quiet,” he said. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” I nodded and tried to shut up my blabbering brain. “It’s just been a long day.”

“Not your scene?”

“Not exactly.”

Zack draped an arm over the back of the bench and leaned a tiny bit closer. “So, what is your scene, Shayne, daughter of the hostess?”

“I guess anyplace where the median age is closer to mine. And,” I added without thinking, “somewhere far away from Kent Payne.”

Thick brows lifted. “Not a fan of Kent?”

“Not a fan.”

“I think you’re the first female I’ve met who hasn’t fallen in instant lust with him.”

“Does that make me strange?” I asked.

“Not at all.” Zack shook his head. “I know Kent well. I’ve seen him pulverize a lot of hearts.”

“Do you know his wife?”

“Oh yes. I went to their wedding.” He took another long series of swallows from his beer then rested it on his knee.

“I bet it was a big, lavish event, huh? Expensive dress, fancy venue, live band, the whole nine yards.”

“Actually, no. Back then Kent didn’t have two nickels to rub together. They got married in a little church and had their reception at his folks’ house.”

“Oh. Wow. So they were married a long time ago, before he…”

“Before he became crazy-ass rich, yes,” Zack finished for me. “And back when he wasn’t such an asshole.”

I laughed.

So I wasn’t the only one at this party who thought Kent Payne wasn’t the world’s most perfect man? Thank God! I was beginning to think there wasn’t a person alive who didn’t fucking worship the man.

“Not a fan?” I asked Zack, my question echoing his.

“Yep, not a fan.” His gaze sharpened. “Pardon me if I’m being too bold, but you’re a very attractive woman. I’m surprised he hasn’t tried to get in your pants yet.”

“Actually…” My face heated.

“Don’t do it. You’ll regret it.” Zack pointed at me with the top of his bottle. “I can’t tell you how many girls I’ve seen hurt by that bastard. He doesn’t give a shit. I’m warning you.”

“Oh, I know. Believe me, it won’t happen.”

“Good.” A breeze caught a wisp of my hair and blew it across my face. Zack plucked it away and tucked it behind my ear before I had a chance to take care of it. His knuckles grazed my cheek. “I would hate to see such a pretty girl hurt.”

Not one hundred percent comfortable with the intimate touch but not totally repulsed either, I smiled. “Thanks. I would hate to get hurt.”

“Any asshole who quits you should have his head examined.” Zack leaned closer, eyes focused on my mouth.

Ohmygosh, he was going to kiss me. I could see it coming. But I wasn’t really sure I wanted it, and I didn’t know why. Wasn’t he saying all the things I wanted to hear? Wasn’t he being sweet? Didn’t he agree that Kent was an asshole? Wasn’t he really good looking?

Yes. But…

His mouth inched closer to mine, and a little quiver of unease passed through me. Should I back away? Should I let him kiss me and see if there was some chemistry?

I didn’t know what to do.

Frozen in place, I fought a mental battle for roughly two seconds. Then a beast or bear or something crashed through the trees and attacked Zack. One second he was about to kiss me and the next he was gone.

It took a several seconds for my mind to process what was going on. There were two men with me in that quiet oasis now, Zack and Kent, and they were fighting. Fists slamming into each other. Insults hurled. Blood shed and bruises made. And, I couldn’t believe this, it was because of me. Me?

My heart thumping in my chest, I watched the men battle, my throat burning. I heard someone yelling. Oh God, it was me? Shouting, screaming, begging.

Still the fight continued, and I couldn’t stop it. Time dragged so slowly. I saw each brutal impact, and my body shuddered as if I was being struck. Why was this happening? What the hell were they fighting about?

One final tooth-cracking shot to the jaw, and Zack crumpled to the ground.

I could not think. I couldn’t breathe. Or speak. I was in absolute horror.

I stared at Kent as the frozen gears in my brain tried to un-jam. I just couldn’t comprehend why he’d attacked Zack. Sure, he probably knew Zack didn’t have a whole lot of respect for him. But still, to go at him so brutally. It was absolutely terrifying.

“What the hell?” I said when my tongue finally unknotted.

Kent looked at me, his lip swollen and a big red mark marring his beautiful face. Then he shook his head and stomped back toward the house, veering around the parade of people rushing toward me.

Dirk was at the lead of the parade, followed by another man, about the same age. “Oh, shit!” Dirk said.

“No, no. I apologize,” the other man said as he hurried to the fallen Zack. He dropped to one knee as I circled around to the other side to try to help rouse him. The older gentleman, who I assumed was Zack’s father, looked up at me and asked, “Did he hurt you? I should’ve known better.” He looked at Dirk again. “He said he was getting help. I wanted to believe…”

Getting help? For what? What was this man talking about?

More confused than ever, I said, “No, he didn’t touch me. I mean, he didn’t hurt me.”

Mom stepped behind me, pulled on my upper arms, coaxing me to follow her.

I did.

Obviously I was missing something. Something important.

“Mom, what’s going on?” I asked.

“I’ll tell you when we get in the house,” she whispered. As a guest approached us, she grinned and waved, “My daughter and I are just running in to grab some more ice. Be back in a minute.”

“Ice?” I echoed.

She gave me the keep-quiet look and stepped up the pace.

The instant we were shut inside the carriage house, I crossed my arms over my chest. “Okay, what’s going on?”

“The man with Dirk is Rob, his best friend. They’ve been good friends forever. Unfortunately, Rob’s son has had some…problems. Rob told Dirk Zack has been in therapy and was doing much better and asked if he could bring him, and of course Dirk said yes.”

“What kind of problems?” I asked.

“Well, I don’t know exactly,” Mom said, avoiding eye contact. “But Dirk just told me Zack had a problem with the law. Something about a girl…”

“And you didn’t think to warn me?”

“I didn’t know. And Dirk said he didn’t say anything before now because Rob had assured him he wouldn’t let him out of his sight. Unfortunately, everyone became preoccupied and lost track of him…until we heard the shouting.” Her eyes blinked, and I realized she was about to cry.

“Mom, he didn’t do anything to me,” I said, hoping to reassure her. “He said he was a friend of Dirk’s. We were just talking, but I think he was going to kiss me. Kent busted in and beat him to a bloody mess before he so much as touched me.” A whole-body shiver quaked me. My hands trembled as I raked my hair back from my face.

“Look at you,” Mom said, grasping my hands. “You’re shaking like a leaf.”

“I’m okay, Mom. I’m just a little shaken. I’ve never seen a fight like that before.”

“Kent was the one who noticed you and Zack were missing. He went searching for you right away. I’m so thankful he found you before…” A big, fat tear dropped from Mom’s eye. She sniffled. “What was Dirk thinking? Letting someone like that come to our home? I swear, that boy will never be allowed here again.”

“It’s all right, Mom. I’m not hurt.”

“Thank goodness! You could have been. And Kent! Did you see him? That poor boy. I need to check on him, make sure he’s okay. And thank him, of course,” she said, her movements jerky as she turned toward the door then back to me several times. Given her behavior, you would think she’d been the one who’d almost been attacked. She looked me in the eye. “I’ve been so preoccupied since I married Dirk. I’m so sorry, Shayne. So, so sorry.” She cupped her hands over her face and sobbed.

If there was one thing I couldn’t stand, it was the sight of my mother crying. My heart broke, shattering into a million pieces. I pulled her into my arms.

Just then an explosion outside boomed, glittering lights illuminating the dark sky. Fireworks.

How ironic, those fireworks would probably pale in comparison to the ones that had just exploded out by the pond.