DEVIL: A Stepbrother Romance (8 page)

I
never understood
why Mitch broke up with Sam, but after he did, things got weird at school. Sam, whom which I never had an issue with before, would always give me the stink eye when she passed me in the hall–as if I had something to do with their breakup or just being part of Mitch’s family made me a bad person.

To top it off, Sam started dating Grant Wilson, whom rumor had it was competing directly with Mitch for the same position on the team.

Her whole demeanor changed from high school sweetheart to high school slut overnight. Grant and Sam would practically suck each other’s faces off in the hallway, acting especially lewd whenever Mitch passed by. At first, Mitch seemed bothered by their behavior, but he quickly just accepted it and went about his school day without acknowledging the pair.

It seemed a little excessive to go to such extremes to make Mitch uncomfortable, but who knows? Maybe Grant and Sam actually enjoyed each other. Sam was an attractive girl, and Grant was the star player of the Strongbacks.

It was a couple of days before the first football game of the season when I was walking through the halls towards my Calculus class. I noticed Grant leaning against the locker in the hall and Sam smudged up against him with their tongues down each other’s throats. I rolled my eyes as their public display of disgustingness, and as I got closer, I noticed one of Grant’s eyes crack open and glare at me. It looked as if he was trying to smile at me against Sam’s lips, but I stared straight ahead and tried not to make eye contact.

I was carrying my calculus book in one hand, and in the other hand I was carrying a half-drank strawberry Fanta. I hadn’t quite developed a taste for coffee yet, so I often drank soda in the mornings for a quick pick-me-up. Immediately when I passed the two insolent kissers, I felt my foot catch against something hard, and I went flying face-first to the ground. Fanta flew everywhere.

I landed with a thump and barely prevented my face from hitting the ground with my hands. It hurt pretty bad, and I jammed one of my fingers, but the worst part of it was that I was wearing a white blouse and a thin, white bra. My tits and my shirt was drenched in bright red soda, and the cold of the soda made my nipples poke out through the thin materials.

I grunted as I pushed myself back up, and several of the kids in the hall started laughing at my folly. Sam and Grant were both laughing especially hard, and I didn’t even realize that they were responsible until my study buddy, Remy offered me her hand.

“Real mature, guys,” she scolded Grant and Sam. Remy and I weren’t close friends, but we shared a couple classes together, and we’d often spend time after school going over our calculus problems. She wasn’t the overly social type, so we never grew outside of our mutually beneficial study relationship.

Just as I was making my way to my feet, I saw Mitch rounding the corner. His eyes shot open when he saw my soda drenched shirt and books on the floor, then he bolted through the hall towards me. “Annie, are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m fine,” I said as I shook my hand, trying to relieve the pain of my jammed finger. “I just tripped is all.”

“No, you were tripped,” Remy corrected. She knelt down and started picking up my wet books. “I saw Grant stick his foot out at you when you passed.”

Mitch turned his head and saw Grant standing beside Sam with an innocent look on his face. “I wouldn’t do that. She hit my foot,” Grant claimed.

“Yeah, right,” Remy said.

Mitch’s mouth went tight, and his face turned red. He moved across the hall so fast that it seemed like a blur. When got close to the pair, he pushed Sam out of harm’s way and threw his hand around Grant’s neck. He pushed him back against the lockers so hard that the clang echoed down the halls, and all the students standing nearby gasped.

“Listen to me, motherfucker,” Mitch hissed. “If you’ve got a problem with me, then take it up with me, but leave my sister out of it.”

Grant’s face was turning purple, and he was trying the best he could to pry Mitch’s hand off of his neck. Sam was pulling on his other hand, trying to get Mitch to get off to no avail.

Mitch pressed harder and Grant let out a gasp. His eyes were bugging out, and I could see that Mitch was simultaneously lifting him, causing Grant to stand his tip toes. “Do you understand me? If you lay a hand on Annie again, I’ll kill you.”

Grant nodded, but it looked more like a spasm as Mitch was holding him so tight.

Mitch released his grip and Grant gasped for air. When he turned, Mitch gave him a light kick in the ass. He twisted his head towards Sam who looked like she wanted to die. “Go get your boyfriend, Sam. You two are perfect for each other.”

Sam huffed and spun on her heel before running off towards Grant.

“Someone get the janitor!” Mitch waved a hand towards the onlookers then switched his attention to me. He put his hands on my shoulders and bent his knees a bit so that we were eye to eye. “If anyone causes you trouble again, let me know, okay?”

I nodded. “Thanks, Mitch.”

Mitch leaned in and gave me a brief hug, not caring about all about the Fanta that I was transferring from my shirt to his cotton tee, then he turned and walked down the hall.

“Wow, Annie,” Remy said as she watched Mitch strut towards whatever class he was heading to. “Your brother is really fuckin’ hot.”

W
e pushed
through the crowd and found our way into the stands as we prepared to watch the Strongback’s first game of the season. Mom, Dad and I were all anxious to see Mitch play after he had been working so hard the past few months. He promised us that he would be a starting player and have a lot more game time than previous years.

“This seat over here looks fine,” Dad motioned with his soda cup to a bench in the third row. Mom scooted in, then dad, then me. We arrived early as the first football game of the year is always a full house and brought a handheld radio to listen to while we waited for things to start up. Dad flipped the radio on to a station that was covering the football game. The host spoke:

“This year the Strongbacks have made some very interesting changes. It would appear that their star running back has been moved to the tight end position and the new starter is a guy we haven’t seen much of, a senior named Mitch Ryker.”

Another guy on the radio added:

“Yeah, Larry. What is Coach Jackson thinking? Grant Wilson has been the lead running back for the past two years, and putting him in the tight end position might just ruffle the team’s gameplay. And get this–The new running back is a guy we’ve seen before, but only as a substitution. When comparing their stats on paper, it literally makes no sense that they’ve made this change.”

Dad frowned and flipped off the radio.

“Those guys don’t know what they’re talking about. Mitch is going to do great, isn’t he honey?” Mom asked across Dad’s lap. She was always so optimistic.

“I hope so,” I replied.

It wasn’t long before every seat in the stands were filled, and people were packed in like sardines. I stared down at the cheerleaders dancing on the greenery and eavesdropped on a couple sitting in front of us who were saying that the Strongback’s opponent, The Wildcats, had been the district champions last year. They were predicting a loss for our team.

The pre-game formalities played out, and finally the announcer called out both teams. First, the Wildcats came out and received a few claps and cheers from the parents and friends of the away team who had came to visit. Then they called out the Strongbacks, and the cheering intensity doubled. One by one, each player was announced, and when Mitch came onto the field, Mom and Dad went wild. I joined the festivities and yelled and screamed Mitch’s name as he trotted proudly on the green, but our calls were dwarfed when Grant Wilson was called out. The whole crowd went crazy for the star player of the team, and I had to put my hand over my ears to muffle the screams.

I remember why I hated watching football once both teams were on the field. It seemed like it took an eternity for the coaches to get everyone lined up and ready to play. There were too many people blowing whistles and talking before the action got started.

The Wildcats won the coin toss and were the first to take offense. The Quarterback hiked the ball, and it was all downhill from there. They seemed to convert something on every play, and the Strongback defense couldn’t seem to stop them at all. A few runs and a couple passes later, the Wildcats had scored a touchdown then topped it off with a field goal.

Dad propped his hand on his leg and let out a sigh. “Those kids must have a heck of a lot more practice than our guys. It’s a shame that they had to face the district champs for the first game.”

After the field goal, the Strongbacks lined up in the center of the field, and once again we cheered as Mitch took his position behind the Quarterback.

A whistle was blown, and a few seconds later, the center hiked the ball to the Quarterback. Mitch ran up behind the Quarterback, and just as the QB was about to get tackled, he handed it off to Mitch.

“Go Mitch! Woooo!” I screamed.

And then Mitch got crushed.

Almost immediately, two big guys from the Wildcats tackled Mitch at the same time, and his head snapped back and hit the ground. It was a crushing blow that looked painful enough that both Mom and Dad stood up out of their seats. The two Wildcats got up from Mitch’s body, and he was laying there still but still clutching on the ball.

Mom gasped and put a hand on dad’s shoulder. “I knew he shouldn’t have gone back to playing ball so soon. What if he’s hurt his head?”

Before Dad could reply, Mitch was picking himself off the grass and brushing himself off, looking relatively unharmed. We all breathed a sigh of relief when we saw that he was okay.

“What they hell are they doing? Just pass the fuckin’ ball to Grant! That other guy can’t do shit,” a slimy man in front of us howled.

“Hey,” Dad tapped the man on the shoulder, and he turned around. “It was a bad play. The Quarterback handed the ball off to him in the middle of two defenders.”

“Yeah, whatever,” the man scoffed.

Mitch walked over to the coach and the exchanged a few words before the team lined up again and took their positions. Again, the ball was snapped, and again the ball was handed off to Mitch. He rushed down the side of the field and a Wildcat defender was heading straight for him. As the two men collided, I expected Mitch to take another hard tackle, but instead he plowed right threw the other player like he was rag doll.

The other defenders ran after my brother, but they couldn’t match his speed. The whole crowd stood up and went wild as Mitch ran the length of the field and made a touchdown on the second play.

“Wow!” I reeled.

“That looked really good! That was good wasn’t it?” My Mom never understood the dynamics of football.

“Damn right it was good!” Dad roared and then bent down to the guy sitting in front of us. “He can’t play, right?”

“It was just a lucky run,” the man replied.

But it wasn’t luck at all. The entire game, Mitch was handed the ball and stormed past defenders who seemingly couldn’t stop him. Any time a player tried tackle him, they ended up getting bulldozed instead, and Mitch only went down when they put two guys on him at once. Anytime he broke past their defensive line, he couldn’t be caught. He ended the game with 5 touchdowns.

“What a freakin’ unbelievable game,” Dad bawled as the game ended. “Our son sure as hell can play!”

“Excuse me, sir,” a man wearing a suit who was sitting behind us said. The three of us turned around. “The running back for the Strongbacks is your son?”

“Damn right he is.” Pride was radiating from Dad’s smile.

“I came here expecting to see some action from Grant Wilson, but your son stole the show. The performance that he put on was incredible.” The man reached for his pocket then handed Dad a card. “I’m a talent scout for UCLA. We’ve got football scholarships available for the right individuals. I’d be very interested in talking to your son.”

Dad’s bright white teeth beamed. “Well that’s great. I’ll… I’ll make sure to tell him to give you a call.”

“Thank you, sir.” The guy turned and headed out with the rest of the people flooding out of the bleachers.

“Can you believe that?” Mom asked. “I can’t believe I doubted him. Mitch is incredible, isn’t he, Annie?”

I stared out into the field, watching all the Strongbacks patting Mitch on the back and giving him thanks while heading to the locker rooms. He was visibly bigger and stronger than all the other guys out there, and I couldn’t help but remembering the sexy abs that was underneath his uniform.

“Yeah,” I muttered, “he’s incredible.”

I
was pretty excited
when Mitch invited to take me out for my gradation day. Although I had promised myself to spend more time with him, I didn’t get a lot of face time since he moved out and a year later started playing for UCLA.

All my friends were practically in love with Mitch, constantly calling him “The Wrecker” and making jokes about other things that they would like him to wreck. He was well recognized in LA, so going out with him would probably be lots of fun. It was also my first year being 18, so felt like I had a little more freedom.

After Mom’s amazing roast beef and potato salad, Dad sat me on the coach and gave me a sermon about staying out of trouble and not letting Mitch’s bad nature influence me. Seemed like a little bit of an overreaction if you ask me. Sure, he had lots of girlfriends, but what else would you expect from a wealthy, star running back of a major university?

I slid into a pair of leggings and a cute, red dress that flared a bit at the bottom. The color looked great with my new haircut. After 18 years of wearing the same boring hairstyle, compliments of my mom, I decided to hit a salon and try something else for a change.

I was etching in my eyeliner when I heard Mitch knock and open the door the house.

It was still weird. He had been living on his own for 2 years now, and it was strange not having him around, going about his daily activities, and eating with us at table. Every once in a while, I’d walk into his room which look relatively untouched beside his missing football gear and computer. It brought back memories of when he was staying with us, and I could still see him lying in the bed with the casts on his arm and leg. Even his home gym was still in the garage, and on occasion, I’d hear Dad in there, grunting his ass off trying to lift half the weight that Mitch did.

It’s amazing how quickly everything changed.

“Annie!” my Mom yelled out to me.

“Yeah Mom!?”

“Mitch is waiting for you downstairs!”

“Okay!”

I rolled my eyes, placed a pair of teardrop diamond earrings in my ears and sprayed a bit of Chanel on my neck. It was rare that I went out at night, and I had no idea where exactly we were going, so I wasn’t sure if the pencil-fit dress and earrings were too formal, but I went with them anyway. I slipped on a pair of 3 inch heels that had been gathering dust in my closet, and I was all set to go.

When I arrived downstairs, Mom was cleaning up after our dinner, and Dad was sitting on the couch with Mitch watching football.

“Well, don’t you look nice,” Dad said.

Mitch turned his head and his eyes burned a hole into me. He was wearing a pair of fashion jeans and black shirt that stretched over his huge pecks and arms. He looked handsome and ready for a night on the town but not overdressed.

“Thanks Dad. Are you ready to go?” I asked Mitch.

Mitch shook his head lightly as if he were shaking himself out of a dream, and then stood up. “Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s go.” When we made it to the foyer, Mitch yelled out, “Bye Mom. Bye Dad!”

Mom yelled out her goodbyes from the kitchen, and Dad added his, “Bye guys… And Mitch… No drinking and driving, got it?”

Mitch chuckled and nodded before he slipped out the door.

“Yes!” I cheered when I looked outside, “You brought the Ferrari!” He had told us that he bought the fancy car a couple months ago, but I hadn’t yet had the chance for a ride. It was deep red with shiny chrome wheels and sat so low to the ground that I had nearly fell when getting inside.

“It’s my sister’s graduation. Only the best for you, Annie.” He patted me on the head like a little kid.

Once inside the car, I rubbed my hand over the speckled, black leather that covered the seat and the dashboard, then fooled under the seat to find the adjuster.

“There’s a button right there on your door for the seat,” Mitch instructed.

“Oh…” I pressed the button and the seat purred as it scooted itself back and forth. “Where are going tonight?” I asked when I had finally settled in place.

“Chuck-E-Cheese is open ‘til 10, and I was thinking you’d have a lot of fun swimming in the balls while I enjoy a few slices of pizza.”

“Seriously, Mitch…” I wanted to punch him.

Mitch chuckled and gave me a devilish grin. “Do you feel like dancing or going to some place a little more relaxed?”

I grinned devilishly. “I just graduated. I feel like dancing!”

Mitch pressed the start button and the Ferrari roared. He pushed his foot onto the accelerator a few times, and I could feel the sound of the engine vibrating between my thighs. Even the chrome “41”, Mitch’s number, that was hanging on the rear view mirror shook erratically as he revved the motor. The sheer power of the car itself was a major turn-on. Two years ago, you would’ve never convinced me that Mitch would own such a beast.

“Buckle up,” Mitch ordered.

I reached for my seatbelt and strapped it across my waist. “Let’s go! Let’s go!” I shouted excitedly and tapped my hand on dashboard a couple times.

Mitch set the car in drive, and soon we were cruising down the highway. I felt on top of the world riding in such a hot car, and everyone we passed turned their heads to get a look of the passengers. A few times I even notice a few surprised faces and pointing fingers when the other vehicles realized that the driver was “The Wrecker.”

Such a ridiculous name.

“Hey, Mitch…” I asked as my mind got to wandering.

“I never asked you… What was it like?”

“What was what like?”

“The accident…” I replied. “You know, when I was in the hospital, they said you were dead. What was the crash like, and what happened when you were laying in the bed all that time?”

Mitch sighed. “To be honest, I don’t remember much about the accident. I was just driving along, and the next thing I know I was in the hospital. Before I woke up…” He trailed as if considering what to say. “I don’t know. It was just a lot of white. White everywhere.”

“That’s really creepy.” I tried to change the subject as I could see that he was upset talking about the experience. “How are you liking UCLA?”

“UCLA is alright. It’s getting a bit old though. I think I’m about ready to finish the school shenanigans and get an NFL deal. I’m already successful enough, so I don’t see how college is going to benefit me.”

“And the NFL will?”

Mitch smirked. “Yeah it will. I’ve got this sensation inside of me. Ever since the accident, I feel like I just need to unleash my energy all the time. Working out and playing football helps keep me grounded. The NFL will challenge me and keep me under control.”

“Makes sense…”

“What about you? How’s you and that Jarrod kid?”

My mouth dropped. “Are you serious?” I started slapping Mitch’s shoulder repeatedly and he defended himself with his free hand. “I told you a long time ago that I haven’t talked to Jarrod since middle school!”

Mitch waved and smiled his bright, white smile. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. But really, how are you and the guys?”

“Would you believe that Grant Wilson asked me out?”

“What?” Mitch turned his head towards me with a scrunched face, then whipped his head back to focus on the road, concern radiating off him.

“Yeah, after you left the school, he just came up to me and apologized one day. I accepted his apology, but then he started making small talk whenever he had the chance. A few months ago he had the gall asked me out.”

“Did you go out with him? What about Sam?”

“C’mon, you know Sam was just dating him to make you jealous. She broke up with him as soon as you went to UCLA. And no, I didn’t want anything to do with him. I don’t date football players.”

“You don’t date football players? Whaaaaaat?”

“Too big, too aggressive. I prefer the nice guys. Maybe I’ll find me an artist or someone like that.” And too sought after also, I thought. If I dated an athlete, there’s no way that he would be faithful.

Mitch rolled his eyes. “Well, I guess it’s good choice for you. I know football players, and they will just want to get in your pants.”

Mitch turned a corner and pull into a large, packed parking lot in front of a huge, industrial building with a sign that read ‘Revolution’. Outside was a line with at least 50 people, all dressed to impress and all looking quite a bit older than me, waiting to get inside. “You ready for this?” he asked.

“I think so.” My heart raced with excitement and a little bit of anxiety. I had no idea what to expect, but I was ready to dance my ass off.

Mitch parked the car, and we joined at the end of the line. When we arrived to the entrance 15 minutes later, a huge bouncer wearing a tuxedo was frisking people but just shook Mitch’s hand and waved him through while another one was asking me for ID.

“She’s with me,” Mitch said to the other bouncer, and the other man nodded and motioned that I could pass. When we were entering, I noticed several signs that said “21+ Only”, so I felt like I was walking into a forbidden garden of sorts, making it all that much more exciting.

Inside was dark and purple lights strobed all over the room while hundreds upon hundreds of people were in the middle of the dance floor grooving wildly to hip techno music. The intensity of the sound was deafening, and while I had felt the buzz of Mitch’s Ferrari between my legs, the music in the club was rattling my soul. The smell of sweat and alcohol filled the air, and while it should’ve disgusted me, it somehow made me feel even more ready to rock.

“Let’s go get something to drink,” Mitch yelled over the music. He had to put his mouth directly up my ear for me to hear him.

I nodded.

I followed Mitch through the mass of people. Women wearing almost nothing were pushing their ass into men’s crotches, one couple was slow dancing although a clearly fast song was playing, and one man whom I’m certain was gay was on the floor popping his butt into the air. I had never seen anything like it. We arrived at a large bar that was being manned by several bartenders. I awed internally at the hundreds of different liquors behind the bar, sparkling every time the strobe lights passed by.

“I’ll have a long island,” Mitch said to one of the men behind the bar.

“The Wrecker!” The bartender wailed and threw his hand up for a high five. “Nice to see you here tonight.”

Mitch fived the guy and turned to me to ask what I wanted.

“Umm… I don’t know,” I screamed over the blasting music. “Do they have fruit punch?”

“Fruit punch?” Mitch asked, his lips warped with confusion. “This isn’t the type of place for fruit punch.”

“But I’ve only drank alcohol a couple times when I was having a slumber party at Kate Mitchalson’s house with–“

Mitch turned around, dismissing my protests, and leaned into the bartender. “Two long islands.” He held up two fingers to make sure that the bartender knew exactly what he was saying. Another bartender, a female, eyed me suspiciously, and I tried my best not to make eye contact.

I leaned in to Mitch’s shoulder. “Long Island has alcohol in it, right?”

“Of course it does,” He chirped.

“Are you sure that’s okay? I’m not 21 yet.”

“It’s your graduation night. Relax.”

I couldn’t help but smile. I was really liking the new Mitch. A couple years ago, before his accident, I had never seen him drink. Granted he was underage at that time, but he played by the rules, and I rarely had seen him take risks. Now, he was a risk taker, he had a seedy side, and while some of his risks were a little over-the-top, the new edge added a whole new layer to his personality.

While we were waiting for drinks, a man slid up to the bar beside me and called out to the bartender. His shirt had a few buttons undone at the top, showing a little too much chest, and his dark brown hair was slicked with hair gel. I overheard him order a mojito, and after placing his order, he glanced at me briefly, moved his eyes away, then turned his whole body towards me once more.

“Hey, how’s it going?” he asked. He had a strong French accent and a gleaming white smile. It immediately cancelled out the tackiness of his unbuttoned shirt.

“Pretty good, thank you.” I smiled back and flipped a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Are you here alone?”

“No, I’m here with my brother.” I pointed towards Mitch who was alternating between looking out to the crowd and then back to the bartenders in search of our drinks.

“Oh that’s cool. How about I buy you a drink?”

I laughed internally. It was the first time in my life that a guy had asked to buy me a drink, and I realized how inexperienced I was at those sort of places. It seemed like I was in a movie–so far out of my normal reality.

“That’s okay. We’ve already ordered,” I replied.

“Okay then. Maybe I can buy your next one.” He held out his hand for a handshake. “I’m Raymond. What’s your name?”

“My name is Annie,” I said as I shook his hand.

“And I’m Mitch.” My brother suddenly circled around and jumped into our conversation, handing me my long island and holding his hand out to Raymond.

“Nice to meet you, Mitch,” Raymond said with a kind expression. “I was just getting to know your sister, Annie.”