Unleashed (A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance) (55 page)

I’ll kill him.

“At least put on your fucking shirt!” I hurl at Chance. He shrugs, takes the tee from the counter and squeezes into it.

It’s tight, hugs his muscular body. I’m not even sure it qualifies as a t-shirt. Maybe some kind of under-garment.

I hear keys jingle at the front door, and quickly corral my hair as best I can. I check myself, make sure everything is in order, and then the front door swings open and Dad walks in.

He sniffs the air for a moment, and I chew on my lower lip, heart racing.

Then he turns toward the kitchen, sees me. He beams me a broad smile.

Then his eyes flick to Chance, and his smile plummets into a frown.

“Cassie?” I hear Dad say, and he walks slowly into the kitchen, setting down his luggage.

“Hey, Dad.”

Dad’s eyes wipe up and down Chance. They linger on his tattoos for a moment, then on his build, then his face. “Who is this?”

“Just a friend from school,” I quickly say before Chance can reply.

From behind Dad, I see the door open a little wider. To my great astonishment, a woman walks in. She’s wearing sunglasses, a severe expression, and uptight clothing.

For some inexplicable reason, Chance just starts laughing. It’s only a few seconds later that he’s gripping onto the kitchen counter, knuckles all white, eyes tearing up, silently heaving with laughter.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I hiss at him.

The woman approaches us, stands next to Dad. She offers me a strained smile, and then her eyes skip over to Chance.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, removing her sunglasses. Her brows are knitted together, and she looks utterly confused.

“You know this boy?” Dad asks.

“Yes!” the woman says. “He’s my son.”

I look between Chance and his mother, see the resemblance. His beautiful hazel eyes are from his mother!

Oh my God!

Then I see the glint of something shiny on Dad’s hand. I peer at it… it’s a ring!

“Dad,” I say in a whisper, pointing at his hand. Then I see a ring on
her
hand as well. “Did something happen in Vegas?”

Dad puts an arm around Chance’s mother, and squeezes her into his side.

“This is Deborah Hudson,” he says. “We got married.”

He’s smiling broadly, proudly, but my world is falling away.

“When?” I cry, palms facing the ceiling.

“A few days ago.”

“A
few days ago?”
I echo in disbelief. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“I thought it would be better face to face.”

“Are you insane?” I shout, utterly consumed by exasperation and incredulity. “Just like that?”

I cast wild eyes on Chance, but he’s just leaning against the kitchen counter, regarding me,
considering
me, that stupid look of amusement on his face. He picks up his plate of unfinished eggs, and begins to eat.

I huff out a frustrated sigh, but Dad’s expression has changed. He looks angry now.

“Cassie,” he says. “You are being impolite.”

Chance’s mother steps into the kitchen, approaches me. “I didn’t know you two were friends?”

“We only just became friends,” I say hastily when I see Chance opening his egg-filled mouth to speak. I stick out a hand quickly. “It’s nice to meet you Ms. Hudson.”

“You’re right in assuming I didn’t take your father’s name,” she says, and she’s got this patronizing tone in her voice. “What an archaic institution.”

“Okay?” I whisper, now thoroughly confused.

“But Deborah is fine, no need to be so formal.” She smiles. “How about a glass of water, honey? I’m so thirsty! You know how planes dry you out.”

I sigh, and run a glass, hand it to her.

“Thank you, Catherine.”

“It’s Cassie,” I say.

“I never did like shortened names,” Deborah sniffs.

I just blink.
Whatever, Deb.

Dad walks out to Chance, a hand extended. “Kyle Shannon,” he says. “Cassie’s father. Chance is it? Can you please tell me what are you doing in my kitchen?”

I feel the tension in the room grow almost immediately. Before it was just awkward, but now Dad and Chance are already having some kind of mental cockfight.

Chance sets down the now-empty plate, grips Dad’s hand. I see Dad wince a little as they shake hands.

“Ask Cassie why I’m here,” he tells Dad.

“I’m asking you, young man.”

Chance laughs, shakes his head. “Where do you get off using that tone with me? Who are you to me?”

“You’re in my house, and I’d like to know why.”

“Kyle!” Deborah says, approaching them. “Is this really necessary?”

“He’s a fighter, isn’t he? Wrestling champ, isn’t that what you said?”

“Yes, but—”

“I know his type, and most of them would be a bad influence on Cassie.”

“My
type?
” Chance echoes.

“Dad, he’s just my friend, okay?”

“You never told me he had tattoos,” Dad says to Chance’s mother.

“What has that got to do with anything?”

“You ever fight underground MMA, Chance?”

“Yes,” Chance says, stepping closer to Dad. “Is that something you have a problem with? ”

“As a matter of—

“Kyle!” Deborah yells, her voice strained. “Come with me right now!”

They leave the kitchen and go to the living room, and I can hear them yelling at each other. I look to Chance, but he just pushes his lips together.

“Well, this is off to a good start, isn’t it?” He checks his pockets. “I think your dad doesn’t like me very much.”

“You didn’t have to be so combative with him.”

“Did you hear how he talked to me?” Chance asks. “It’s because he’s your dad that I—”

“That you what?” I ask, leveling a challenging glare at him. “That you stopped short? Short of what?”

He licks his lips. “Let’s go,” he says to me.

“Where?” I ask.

“The fuck out of here.”

“Why?”

“You really want to stay here with them? Right now? Fresh off a plane, grumpy, already at each other’s throats?”

I consider it. No, I certainly don’t.

“What about you? What about your mother?”

“What about her?” Chance says. “It’s her life, she can do what she wants.”

“Don’t you care?”

“Your father is not the first man she’s shacked up with.”

“But marriage?”

He shrugs. “No idea about that, don’t much care right now, either. So you coming with me, or staying here?”

I haven’t even begun to fully comprehend the implications of Dad getting married again, and to Chance’s mother no less!

This is insane.

Getting out is the only palatable choice at the moment.

“Hold up,” I tell him, making up my mind. “I’m coming with you. Wait here.”

I sprint up the steps, quickly get into some outside clothes, and then run down past Dad and Deborah.

“Where are you going?” he asks me.

“I have stuff to do at school, Chance is driving me!”

I whip into the kitchen, nod at Chance, and together we leave, both our parents staring wide-eyed at us as we shut the door.

Now… well, now things just got very complicated.