DEVIL: A Stepbrother Romance (6 page)

I
did
physical therapy for a week before firing my physical therapist. She was a nice gal, but after day 5, I was already able to walk with a crutch. Every day, the lacerations on my body were starting to fade. By 1 month, I found the Dad’s hacksaw in the garage and cut the casts off of my leg and arm. Everyone was shocked when I limped into the kitchen without any type of support, but to be honest they were getting in the way more than they were helping.

Turns out that I failed my senior year since I missed the exams while I was lying in the hospital. When I found out that I’d have to repeat all over again, I was pissed, but then I realized that it gave me a chance to play another year of football.

“So I’m thinking that I’ll change my number to 41 this year,” I said while the family was having dinner.

“You’ll change your number? What do you mean darling?” Mom asked.

“My jersey number. I’m going to ask Coach to change it to number 41, same as my room number in the hospital. Sort of a symbol to getting out of it all that bullshit alive.”

Mom frowned.

“Mitch, you’ve got to be realistic,” Dad lectured. “Just a couple months ago, you were hanging on for your life. The doctor said you’d never play football again if you lived. Maybe one day you’ll be strong enough to play a contact sport again but not in time for next season.”

I considered arguing, but it didn’t seem worth it. I was an adult already, and no one was going to tell me what to do. They’d never understand if I told them that I actually felt
better
than I had before the crash, that I constantly felt like I drank 20 energy drinks in one sitting. All the pain in my body had subsided, and while I still had a little bit of a gimpy leg, nothing was going to stop me from playing football. If I didn’t play, what would I do?

The aggression inside me was on a totally different level than it had ever been before, and I needed to get it out.

W
hen the money came
, the first purchase Mitch made was a home gym. He didn’t tell anyone he had ordered it. It just showed up one day, and Mitch put it in the garage. He told our parents that it was so that he could rehabilitate his arm and leg, but he was doing far more than rehabilitation. Every day, he spent hours in the garage working out, and if he wasn’t exercising in the gym, he was jogging miles around the block.

Dad scolded him and told him not to push unneeded pressure on his fractured bones, to rest, but he didn’t seem to care. He just kept going, and he only seemed to stop in order to eat.

His limp went away, and his body quickly started to change. His arms grew thicker and his chest started hulking. Even his face seemed to have changed. He was clearly still the same old Mitch, but his jawline was getting more defined, and his face seemed set with more serious, manly features.

I was a bit disappointed that he seemed so busy. I promised myself that I’d spend more time with Mitch once he got out of the hospital, but I’d only see him in passing when he was on his way to the garage for a workout or running out the door for a jog.

Our home phone rang.

“Hello?” I asked when I picked up the handset.

“Hi. Is Mitch there?” a mousey voice asked.

“I think he’s here. Who is this?”

“This is Sam. Are you Mitch’s sister?”

“Yeah, this is she.”

“Is everything okay over there? He hasn’t been answering my phone calls.”

“Yeah, everything is fine. Do you want me to fetch Mitch? He’s probably in the garage.”

“Hmm… No, that’s okay. If he doesn’t want to talk, I won’t disturb him. Thanks.”

“Oh, I’m sure that he–“

The line was disconnected.

I shrugged as I placed the phone back on the receiver. Come to think of it, Mitch hadn’t been spending any time with anyone since the accident. It all seemed rather odd.

I shimmied through the house and opened the door to the garage.

“79… 80.. 81.” Mitch was laying on a bench, pressing weights high above his head when I entered.

“Hey, Sam called for you on the home phone,” I yelled out to him.

Mitch ignored me and continued his grunts.“85… 86… 87…”

“Did you hear me? Your girlfriend called.”

Mitch eased the heavy weights on to their holding clips and sat up, letting out a big sigh. He reached for a towel that was sitting nearby and brushed it across his forehead. “I heard you.”

“So aren’t you going to call her back? She said you haven’t been picking up whenever she calls.””

“Yeah, I’ll call her back. I’ve just been busy.” Mitch stood up from his bench, and I almost gasped. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and his torso was covered in sweat. It seemed almost impossible that he could’ve gotten so fit in such a short amount of time, but he had put on a ton of muscle and was sporting a clearly defined six-pack. Mitch had never caught my eye before, but he was starting to build out into a really, really buff guy.

My mouth watered involuntarily, and I cringed inside that I was staring at my stepbrother. “Have you been taking something?”

“What do you mean, ‘Have I been taking something?’”

“Like drugs or steroids or something? Your body has gotten a lot bigger.”

“Yeah, well that’s what happens when you work out every day. It’s only an extra 15 pounds or so.” Mitch flexed his bicep at me and gave a cocky grin. “I’d like to add another 10 or 15 before the season starts.”

“You’re still going to try playing football even after what our parents and the doctor said.”

“Of course I’m going to play.”

“What about your head injury? You had a skull fracture.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “Don’t worry about me.” He reached for his bottled water and began chugging it down.

“Of course I’m going to worry. You’re my brother.”

Mitch pulled the water away from his mouth and stared at me for a few moments, then handed me a smile. “Thanks Sis’,”

Speaking of which, I was thinking we should spend some time together. It’s been a long time since we’ve had brother/sister time.

Mitch shook his head. “I’ve really got to finish my workouts. I don’t really have time for fun and games.”

“Maybe I could go running with you?”

His brow furrowed. “Why the sudden interest in spending time with me?”

“I thought I had lost you that night. I don’t want something like that to ever happen again and end up knowing that we never spent any time together.”

Mitch chuckled and grinned. “Alright, you can go running with me. Why don’t you get your running shoes? I was just about to head out.”

I smiled and hurried back into the house. Running wasn’t exactly my idea of fun, but it would give me a chance to bond with Mitch. I scoured through my closet until I found a pair of small, cotton shorts, a tank top, and a sports bra.

As soon as I started to change, I began to regret the idea. My breasts had filled out over the last couple years, and the sports bra barely fit. Even with the tank top over the bra, I felt like there would be way too much boob action on display while I was running. I searched for something better to no avail. “Oh well,” I thought. “It’s just my brother.”

When I arrived back to the garage, Mitch had thrown on a wife beater and a pair of track pants. As soon as he saw me, his eyes scanned me up and down and lingered long enough that I began to feel self-conscious. Never before had I seen Mitch checking me out like that, and for a moment I thought that there was something on me.

“What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s nothing,” he said and pulled his attention away. “You ready to run?”

“Yeah, let’s do this.”

Mitch handed me a bottle of water and started pressing buttons on his sports watch. After a few beeps, he turned and jogged down the driveway while waving his hand for me to follow.

I was already tired by the time we made it to the end of the driveway. He turned and ran down the sidewalk with a seemingly unlimited amount of energy, while I struggled to keep up. I could tell that he was taking it slower than normal so that he wouldn’t lose me, but while I was huffing and puffing, he was smiling and breathing normal.

“So what’s the deal with you and Sam?” I panted as I ran beside him.

“There is no deal. I just don’t have time at the moment.”

“But you’ve just been working out. Don’t you think that’s unfair?”

“Not just working out…”

“What do you mean? What have you been doing?”

“Searching for a place to stay. I’m 18 now, and I should be living on my own. No reason for me to stay in the parent’s house now that I have money of my own.”

“Really? You’re going to move out?”

“Yeah, but don’t tell Mom and Dad just yet. I don’t want to hear any more lectures from them.”

“So what are you going to do for transportation?”

“Already bought a car. Just sitting on the lot for when I’m ready to pick it up.”

I stopped jogging when he told me that and placed my hands on my knees to catch my breath. He started jogging in place so that he didn’t bolt ahead of me. “What’s gotten into you, Mitch? You’re moving out, bought a car and everything. You haven’t told anyone in the family about it?”

“You think about things too much, Sis’. These kind of events are normal. I’m just growing up.” He motioned his hand for me to keep running.

I sighed and picked back up my jog.

“What about you and the guys? Are you still dating that Jarrod guy?”

“Jarrod?” I laughed. “I haven’t talked to that guy since the 7
^th
grade. And I currently don’t have anyone one the agenda.”

“Really? Why not?”

I shrugged. “No idea really. I guess I’m not hot enough.”

Mitch halted in his tracks. “Are you crazy, Annie? You’re gorgeous. Easily one of the best looking girls in our high school.”

“Then why don’t you tell me why I don’t have a girlfriend?”

“Hmm… Maybe the guys are intimidated by you.” His eyes panned up my body again and landed on my breasts that were pressing hard against the layers of cotton above them. “If you weren’t my sister, I’d be all over that.”

I rolled my eyes and laughed at him then started running harder. What he said was perfectly harmless, but it had turned a wheel in my head that shouldn’t have been turned. Even though I knew he was just trying to boost my self-esteem, he had basically admitted that he was attracted to me. I hadn’t never really looked at Mitch that way or expected him to look at me in any way other than his sister, so it was a little hard for me to comprehend. It was amplified by the fact that I had just seen him with his shirt off, and there was no denying that he looked great.

For the next 30 minutes, we continued to run around the block while I hardly said another word. When we circled to the house the last time, I admitted defeat and let Mitch continue running on his own.

I was exhausted and panting, but I probably could have ran a bit more. But I suddenly felt shy, underdressed and had a dying itch to run to a mirror to do my makeup.

C
oach was standing
on the field in a tracksuit and baseball cap, giving instructions to the other players when I arrived. I was late for the first day of tryouts, winded after a 5-mile jog. “Sorry I’m late, Coach.”

“Mitch?” Coach’s face was flat as he chewed on his bubble gum. “I heard from some of the other kids that you got in an accident a few months ago. I thought you were out of the game.”

“Don’t worry coach. It wasn’t that big of a deal. I’m fine now.”

“Well, you’ve put on a lot of weight since that last time I saw you. You look huge.”

“Been working out, getting ready for the season.”

“Alright, well go ahead and get on the field. We’re just running a few pass plays at the moment. Take your position and try to catch the ball.”

“Okay, Coach.” I put my football helmet on and took a few steps before turning around. “I was thinking that this season I would try to play running back. Maybe tight end isn’t the best place for me.”

“Running back?” Coach chuckled. “Grant Wilson is our star running back, and his sub isn’t half bad either. We don’t need a running back right now.”

I started jogging backwards further into the field. “Just watch me play before making your decision, Sir.”

The couch sighed. “Alright Mitch… just get out there and try to catch the ball.”

When I got on the field, all the offensive players lined up on the center line. The goal of the exercise was to run down the field as fast as possible, create distance from the other players and catch the ball after it was thrown.

The coach blew the whistle, and everyone sprinted off the line. I was a little nervous at first, but within a couple seconds I realized that I was outpacing all the other players with hardly any effort. When the Quarterback lobbed the ball, I was at least a yard away from my closest teammate, and I reached my hand out to grab the ball with no interference.

“Good run, Mitch,” one of the other players said as we walked back in the opposite direction.

Couch blew the whistle again and started chewing the gum in his mouth with a little more haste as he bobbed his head in approval. Again we all lined up on the center line and repeated the same exercise with the exact same results. For hours, practice went on with me dominating the offense. I ran faster, jumped higher and navigated through defensive players better than anyone else on the field.

The head coach blew the whistle again. “Alright, let’s go ahead and wrap her up. See you in the locker rooms.”

“Damn, you really killed it out there,” one of the other players said towards me when we were changing out of our sweaty uniforms.

“Yeah, what have you been doing all summer? You seemed like a different man out there today,” another added, “and you must be at least 20 pounds heavier.”

I laughed. “Just working out, jogging, eating healthy.”

“Well, you need to show me whatever regime you’re doing, ‘cause I need to be doing some of that.”

Coach walked back into the room right before we were about to hit the showers. “Listen up guys. I think we’re going to make a few changes. After seeing Mitch’s performance out there today, I think it’s pretty clear that he’d be a good running back.”

The statement sent the team into a shocked silence.

“But I’m our running back,” Grant Wilson piped up. His hair was matted with sweat, and he looked frazzled after his poor show at tryouts. The prior year, Grant was a junior, but he was the star of the Strongbacks. Everyone was expecting him to carry the team as a senior.

“Grant, you weren’t catching any balls or making any plays. Mitch ran the length of the field in two-thirds the time it took you.”

“Yeah, but look at him. He’s huge now. He shouldn’t even be in High School anymore. His senior year is over.”

“Mitch was a good student, but is repeating due to some unexpected circumstances. According to the school rules, he can still play.”

Grant threw me a menacing glance.

“Anyway, I haven’t made my decision yet, but if Mitch continues to outshine you all the way he did today, it’s my job as coach to make the right move for the team. We’ll see how it goes.”