Good Stepbrother (Love #2) (8 page)

I had to tell him what I’d always felt. “I love you.”

“I’ve always loved you…”

My heart shattered again. “I know. Believe me, I know.” Stroking the side of his face, I looked away from his loving gaze and kissed his chest. It would never work. I would constantly disappoint him and he would end up hating me.

Soon, he dozed beside me. The phone rang downstairs and I pulled myself from his arms to patter downstairs. My breath came fast as I picked up the receiver.

“Hello?” I answered breathlessly.

“Brielle?” Charlie whispered through sobs.

“Charlie? What’s wrong?”

“Surgery didn’t work,” he cried hoarsely. “Lisa is dying. Her brain will herniate from her brain stem and they’ll harvest her organs then she’ll be dead. I-I what am I gonna do? I can’t lose my wife.”

I leaned against the wall to keep from falling to the floor. My stomach sank to my toes and my heart ached. Weeping freely, I choked out, “I’m so sorry, Charlie.”

“Why didn’t she wear her seatbelt? Why? Can you kids be here in the morning? I can’t do this alone.”

“Okay.” I lied. I wouldn’t be there in the morning. I wouldn’t watch my mother die. I couldn’t. It was all my fault, and I’d never be able to forgive myself. “I gotta go, Charlie. I love you. Kiss Mom for me. I’m so sorry.” Hanging up the receiver, I slid down the wall and collapsed on the floor in a pile. Beating the black and white linoleum with my fists, I sobbed.

I’m so sorry. For everything.
I didn’t want to wreck everything. Only me. But now I’ve torn everything to pieces, and nothing will ever be the same. I can’t stay. It’ll only make it worse. I have to go. I have to go.

Pulling myself up from the floor, I dragged my body upstairs. Using Charlie and Mom’s bathroom, I cleaned myself up and tiptoed into my room. Carter slept soundly, his arm thrown over his eyes. Covering my mouth with my hand, I stifled my tears as I dressed. He never stirred as I found a bag in my closet and packed things.

I had to run. I couldn’t hurt them anymore. Glancing at him one last time, I blew a kiss in his direction and left the room, closing the door behind myself.

Easing downstairs, I found the keys and pulled on a spare jacket of Mom’s. Tossing my purse over my shoulder, I looked around the house one last time. I’d never be back. I couldn’t. It hurt too much.

Opening the front door, I stepped out into the icy night. I slipped on the driveway slightly as I hurried to the car. Unlocking the door, I threw my bag in the back seat and slid behind the wheel. I could barely see through my tears to drive, and I’m not sure how I made it to my father’s house at two AM, but I did.

Shutting off the ignition, I crawled from the car and stumbled up the stairs to the front door. I beat on the wood and rang the doorbell for almost ten minutes before he came to the door and threw it wide.

“Brielle?” Pulling me inside roughly, his eyes widened. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I was in a wreck. Mom is dying. I have to go,” I whispered weakly.

He gripped my arm and shook me slightly. “What are you talking about?”

“We had a wreck on Broken Neck Lane,” I explained woodenly. “Mom didn’t wear her seatbelt. Charlie called me and her brain is going to like pull away from her brainstem or something. She’s going to die. There’s nothing they can do. I can’t stay here. I’ve hurt too many people. No one wants me here. With Mom dead, I’ll have no one. I’m eighteen. I just need to leave.”

He didn’t say a word as he pulled me through the house to the library and closed the door. “Brielle, were you doing drugs when you had the accident?”

“What? No.”

“I know you were hanging around with some unsavory characters. I got you out of trouble with the cops with the Peter deal. Are you sure it was an accident?” He narrowed his eyes and watched me.

“I would never intentionally hurt my mom!” I cried. “I’m not a monster.”

“I can send you to your Aunt in Seattle. Lisa and I had talked about that before. It might be good for you. However, I will expect you to get a job.”

“Fine. Send me. Tonight.”

He sat down in his chair and rubbed his forehead. “Why?”

“I can’t stay here and watch my mother die. I can’t. I won’t. I’m begging you. Help me get away. I’ll never bother you or your family again. I just want to leave here and never look back.”

Tapping his finger on his lip, he eyed me. “Fine. Let me make a couple of calls.” Turning from me, he picked up the phone and opened his Rolodex. Dialing a number, he waited for whoever was on the other end to answer. “Janelle. It’s Ed. Lisa has been in an accident and she’s dying. Brielle wants to move out to be with you. Yes, I understand it’s late and I’m calling with terrible news. Of course, I’ll pay for you to come to the funeral. No, Brielle doesn’t want to go. So you’ll take her on? Great. Thank you, Janelle, and I’m sorry that I had to call like this. I’ll have her on the first flight out. I’ll call you with details. Sure, I’ll let you know what happens with Lisa. Thanks.”

Hanging up he looked back at me. “She’s willing to take you on. Do you have your things?”

Sitting back in my chair, I gaped at him. “So I can leave?”

“Yes, you can. If that’s what you want, you can go. But I expect to be left alone after this point. I don’t want to keep cleaning up your messes.” He stood from the chair and stretched. “Let me get dressed. We’ll drive to the airport tonight. Main roads are clear.”

“Can I have a sheet of paper? I need to write Carter Travis a letter. He’ll come looking for me tomorrow. Will you give it to him?”

“Fine,” Dad grumbled, shoving a sheet of paper and a pen in my direction. Moving around me, he left the room. I was by myself.

I’m leaving. I’ll never see Marysville again. I’ll never see Carter again.
Hardening my heart, I wiped at my eyes. It was for the best. He deserved better than me. Everyone around here did. I did nothing but mess things up. It was time I started over.

My life was never quite the same again.

Part Two

Chapter Nine

I was eighteen years old and completely lost. Seattle was a whole different world, and my aunt wasn’t exactly planning on raising me up. She had her own demons to fight with, namely losing my mom, her sister.

“You look like her, Bri,” she told me between deep inhalations of her cigarette.

“Thank you.”

“What are you gonna do with yourself? I hope you know you’re not gonna live here for free.”

“Of course not.”

“And school is out of the question. You need to get a job. The sooner you can help with rent, the better.”

“Okay, I’ll go look today.”

“Check down at the little diner not far from here. I bet they’d hire you as a waitress. Welcome to your new life, kiddo. It’s time to grow up.”

I didn’t have time to mourn the loss of my mother. I didn’t have time to feel. I had time to work. And work I did. I worked at the diner down the street, The Blue Moon, full time every day from four in the morning until one in the afternoon. I’d come home long enough to wash the greasy stench off my body then I’d go and work at the local bookstore, The Golden Goose, from three in the afternoon until ten at night.

Days blurred together, it was just a mix of serving eggs and pointing middle-aged women with pinched faces to the fertility section of the bookstore. I messed with eggs of all types, I guess. Until Logan Monroe of Skid423 walked into the diner.

I knew who he was. Carter was in love with their music, he always had been. Logan slid into a booth and I hurried from around the counter to serve him. I wished I looked better. I wished I was cuter in my outfit, a poorly-fitted blue gingham dress with a dorky white apron.

“What can I do for you?” I asked, propping my hip on his table.

“First of all, what’s a beautiful girl like you doing working in a shithole like this?” He grinned, his blue eyes sparkling as he teased me.

“I gotta pay the bills.”

“Ah, that pesky little thing called money. What’s your name, beautiful?”

“Brielle.”

“Brielle...That’s a pretty name. I’m…”

“I know who you are. My step-my friend Carter loves your music,” I lied smoothly.

“Yeah? That’s something I’ve never gotten used to, the fact that somebody out there listens to our CDs. Music is pretty great.”

“I love to sing,” I blurted stupidly, grimacing at how simple I sounded.

“Do you? What do you sing?”

“All kinds of stuff.”

“Tell you what, Brielle the beautiful…when you get some time, why don’t you come and jam with us?” He pulled a napkin out of the dispenser and pointed at my pen. “Let me write down an address. We jam every night. Be here at about 7:30.”

I handed him my pen and watched with bated breath as he scribbled an address across the paper. “Thanks,” I breathed as he handed it to me and I jammed it into my pocket.

“Sure thing, sweetheart. Now, how about two eggs, over easy, and some toast.”

“You got it!”

I carried the address around in my pocket for weeks. I didn’t have time to go and visit them. All I had time for was work. Finally, I had a day off from the bookstore and I wasn’t completely exhausted from the diner. I took my time making myself presentable. I didn’t have a lot of my things, I’d left most of them at home in Marysville, but I’d been able to grab a few outfits that were cute and some of my makeup.

I looked older than my eighteen years; depression and exhaustion had aged me in just a couple of months. I ran my hand through my long blonde hair and thought of my mom. Lisa had tried so hard to be there for me. She had even married Charlie, a man who was the polar opposite of my father. They had both given me more patience and love than I’d deserved. But I had lashed out and fought the whole way.

And now my mom was dead. I’d never get to see her again. I’d never get another hug. Those I’d taken for granted. I hadn’t hugged her nearly enough. Tears prickled at my lashes and I fanned my face, hoping to preserve my eye makeup.

“You going out?” Aunt Janelle asked me as I slung my purse strap over my shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m going to meet up with some guys…”

“Need condoms?” she asked matter-of-factly.

“No, he’s just a friend.”

“Well, make sure he stays that way, okay? I am not going to deal with you being pregnant.”

“Gotcha. No babies here. I’ll be back later.”

“Have fun!”

“Thanks.” I stepped out of the apartment and into the spring evening. I’d pored over a book at the bookstore, showing maps of the city. I didn’t want to waste my precious resources by getting a taxi. So I walked the miles to the address that Logan had given me. I was exhausted by the time I arrived, and slightly sweaty, but I stood in front of a brick building with lots of windows. It looked like a miniature of the apartment building that Aunt Janelle and I lived in.

Straightening my clingy black top, I daubed the sweat off of my forehead and knocked on the door. “Just a minute!” I heard a man’s voice call and I waited nervously on the front stoop. Time stretched by and I became impatient. I knocked again.

“Hold on, dammit!”

No one talked to me like that back home, and I never waited for any man. With a huff, I turned to walk down the stairs and the door opened.

“Leaving, beautiful?”

I glanced over my shoulder and my mouth went dry. Logan stood there with only a towel slung around his hips. Water beaded on his skin and slid down slowly. My eyes followed the water down his ripped stomach and my heart tripped. He was hot as hell.

“I don’t like being made to wait.”

“Next time then, you can join me in the shower.” He winked and opened the door wider. “Come in. I need to get dressed and we can head over to the studio.

“I-I-okay…”

“Where’s your car?” he asked me as I stepped inside.

“I, uh… walked.”

“Really? How far?”

“A ways. It’s no big deal.” I clutched at my purse strap nervously.

“Okay, well, let me get dressed. Hold tight…unless you’re too impatient to wait, then by all means, come help me.” He waggled his brows and I grinned.

“I’m not in the mood to help you dress today.”

“Oh, so I could get you in the mood?” He chuckled and I flushed hot.

“Doubtful.”

“We’ll see.” He ducked into a room and I stood in the foyer while he dressed. Peeking around the corner, I spotted a tastefully decorated living room and kitchen. “Scoping out the joint?” he asked as he strode out of a room, pulling a T-shirt over his head.

I jumped guiltily. “Of course not.”

“Well, thank God. You’re too pretty to be in jail. Come on, Brielle the beautiful, and let’s go jam.” He jammed his feet into sneakers and grabbed a set of keys from beside the door.

“Okay.” I followed him out the door.

He pointed at a slick black car on the side of the street. “Your chariot awaits.”

I really liked him, he was funny and sexy as hell. But other parts of my body felt guilty for thinking that he was cute. Those parts were firmly reminding me of taking Carter’s virginity and the fact that I loved him. I did. I loved him. But I couldn’t wreck his life by staying. I was like a bomb, and he was like a school full of children. I couldn’t explode and take him out. He didn’t deserve to be my collateral damage. I was protecting him. I had to.

I climbed in the car and buckled in while Logan started the engine. We pulled out of the parking spot and he drove through Seattle. “Where are we going?” I asked nervously.

“Afraid I’m gonna slit your throat?” He snickered.

“Maybe.”

“Ouch. Nah you’re too pretty.”

“Thank God, my looks have come in handy,” I laughed weakly.

“We’re going downtown to the studio. I told you we usually jam. You got lucky and caught me before I left. I didn’t think you were ever gonna come. It was like I gave this gorgeous girl my address and she totally ignored me. It hurt my manliness.”

I giggled harder then. “Oh please, I’m sure you have women falling all over you.”

“But none of them are a dime like you.”

A dime meant I was a ten. He thought I was a ten. I looked out the window and smirked. Of course he did. “Well, I’ve been busy.”

“I bet. Working at the diner looks exhausting.”

“I also work at a bookstore.”

“What, seriously?”

“Yep, two full time jobs. I help my aunt out with the bills…and I’m saving for a car.”

“Ouch, that’s rough. I remember those days.”

“You aren’t that much older than me.”

“Twenty-five. How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

“Ouch, just barely legal.”

“I’m legal, I swear.”

“Thank God,” he muttered. He looked at me in the dusk of the car then back to the road. “I used to bust my ass too. Then we started releasing our music and things just picked up steam. We got lucky.”

“I’d love to be a famous singer.”

“Never know. With a demo, you could do it.”

“Really?”

“Sure, executives would be jumping all over you. You’re gorgeous. And if you can sing? You’d be a double threat.”

“Wow.” I fell silent as we pulled up in front of a metal, industrial-looking building. “Where are we?”

“The studio. Don’t be afraid. Come on, Brielle the beautiful.” He parked the car and climbed out.

I opened my door and climbed out behind him. I could faintly hear guitars and drums and I smiled. “It’s really a studio.”

“Nah, we just play music to hide the sound of the screams of women we bring here…” He laughed hard at my panicked expression. “You’re adorable. Come on.” He opened the door and the music became louder as I stepped inside.

The rest of Skid423 lounged around, strumming on guitars and playing the drums. “Hey Logan,” they called. “Who’s the babe?”

“This, my men, is Brielle the beautiful, and I’ve got dibs.”

I rolled my eyes. “Dibs, huh?”

“Hey, I have to stake my claim now or these horny assholes will be trying to get in your panties. The girl is here to jam. She says she can sing.”

“Yeah?” one guy asked from his position on the couch with a guitar slung across his lap. “What do you sing, princess?”

“Whatever I want.” I snapped.

“Oh?”

“That’s Tock,” Logan informed me. He pointed at each of the guys. “That’s Wrench. That’s Diesel, and that’s Slash.”

“Hi.” I smiled at them and Tock eyed me.

“Do you even know who we are?”

“I do. My step-my friend Carter used to listen to you all the time. He’s a huge fan.”

“Your step-friend?” Tock asked.

“My friend.”

“I see. So you’re not a fan.” Tock pressed, his eyes narrowing.

“I-I...I like your music.”

“Leave her alone,” Logan growled softly.

“You just want to get in those panties,” Tock snorted. “Whatever. Come on, princess, let’s make some music. See if you can keep up.”

“Come back to the studio where we can record without background noise.” He pointed at a doorway and I nodded.

The guys followed us back to a small studio and they filed into a room with lots of windows and microphones. “Wow, this is amazing.”

“It’s not shabby, huh?” Logan was obviously proud.

“It’s amazing.”

“All you need to do is sit here and press this green button when I give you the thumbs up and then press the red one when we’re done. Got it?”

“Got it.” I settled onto a small stool in front of a wide black board with a ton of buttons. “I’m ready.”

“Cool.” He ducked into the room and closed the door. Sitting on a stool in front of the front mic, he slipped on headphones and gave me a thumbs up. I punched the green button and smiled.

Tock started the song with a killer guitar melody, then Wrench started in with the bass. Diesel worked drums, and Slash sang back up.

Their music was primal, raw, and it was something I’d never heard live before. Carter would’ve been shitting himself to hear them playing like I was. My smile fell and sadness filled me. Carter. I missed him like crazy.

The song ended and I punched the red button, giving them a thumbs up. Logan slipped off his headphones and came to the door. “Come sing something.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. Come on.”

“I don’t know what to sing…”

“Pick something. We probably know most of it.”

I ran through the songs I knew off the top of my head.
“
Black Balloon”
by the Goo Goo Dolls,” I blurted. Carter had listened to it many, many times, and I knew every word by heart.

“Sure,” he smiled, obviously surprised I hadn’t picked something girly and frilly. “Sit down on the stool and we’ll do this. Punch the green button first.”