Misconduct (34 page)

Read Misconduct Online

Authors: Penelope Douglas

“I got that job at Greystone because of you,” he bit out. “Marek put in a word for me. A perk when your sister sleeps with powerful people, I guess.”

My heart began racing, and I froze. “Jack, what’s wrong with you?”

My brother never said things like that to me. Plus, he looked like he hated me right now.

He turned, locking eyes with me. “I was happy,” he told me. “When Chase Stiles drove you inward, started messing with your game…” he explained. “I was happy about that, Easton.”

I felt my stomach roll, and I backed away.

“I hated seeing you hurt,” he choked out, tears caught in his throat, “but I loved seeing your career go to hell,” he admitted.

His face grew hard, and his eyes pierced me. “I loved seeing our parents lose their grip on you as you got more and more defiant,” he bit out. “I loved seeing you fail.”

“Jack.” I could barely breathe.

I shook my head, trying to take short breaths, but barely any air was getting in.

He stepped forward. “I love you,” he professed. “I do, and I want good things for you, but, God, Easton,” he gritted out, tears pooling in his eyes. “I hated you, too.”

I let my eyes fall to the ground. What the hell was going on? in Jack had always supported me. Always tried to protect me.

I thought he was okay. I thought the amount of attention I got or the fact that our parents treated me just a little bit better was something he’d moved past.

But deep down it was still there. I couldn’t believe he’d never let on about any of this to me before.

I closed my eyes, feeling weary. “I’m sorry,” I said, meaning it. If I were in his shoes, I’d no doubt have a lot of resentment, too.

He sniffled, evening out his expression. “It’s not your fault,” he maintained. “It never was. You didn’t make our parents favor you. You didn’t excel at tennis out of spite.” And then he spoke slowly. “You’re a winner, Easton. Everything I want to be.”

I moved to go to him, but he backed up.

“It was me,” he shot out.

“What was you?” I breathed out.

“The cabinets, the calls, the treasure box – it was all me,” he confessed.

What?

Rage curled my fingers into fists. He’d opened all of the cabinets, the shower curtain, been in my closet, opened my window, and smashed the box, tearing up all of the letters.

“Why?” I cried. “I don’t understand.”

“Because it was supposed to be my turn!” he shouted, glaring at me. “For the past five years, it was my turn to have the attention. You leaned on me!” He hit his chest. “You needed me.”

I slowly shook my head, backing away from him. My face cracked, and tears started streaming down my cheeks.

I swallowed, choking out my words. “How could you?”

“I wanted you to be okay.” His voice was barely audible. “I wanted you happy with friends and loving the life you lived, but…”

“But?” I pressed.

He hesitated, looking up at me.

“He’s going to be a senator,” Jack stated. “If your relationship went the distance, you’d be back in the limelight.”

“You were trying to get me to shrink away again,” I cried, turning angry.

But he went on. “And then
Newsweek
and the interview today…” he pointed out. “It doesn’t matter what you do, you’ll always outshine me!” He hardened his jaw, scowling. “Why couldn’t you just stay quiet? Why couldn’t you just be normal like everyone else? Just be my sister! Let me have something!”

I continued backing away, thinking about him doing those things. He’d known it would hurt me.

“You made me think someone was in my home,” I charged. “In my things! You terrified me!”

He closed his eyes, looking like he was ready to break.

“I often wondered what made Chase Stiles give up,” he rasped. “Why did he take his own life?”

I stared at my brother.

“He knew he was going to hurt you,” he concluded. “And he didn’t want to.”

Yes. The final stage of stalking was physical violence. Chase’s abuse had been growing more and more threatening, and Jack was probably right. I didn’t know why Chase killed himself, but I did know he was losing his grip. Or what grip he had left.

And my brother? Would he go that far?

He seemed to see the flash of awareness and understanding in my eyes, because he rushed forward.

“I would never hurt you.”

But it was too late. Spinning on my heel, I ran out of my classroom and into the hallway with Jack yelling behind me.

“Easton!” he called.

But I raced down the hall, needing to get away from him.

I wasn’t sure if he would hurt me, but up until this morning I wouldn’t have thought he could’ve done any of the things he’d done. I had thought, next to Tyler, Jack was the person I could trust most in the world.

Why would he have wanted me to live in fear?

I ran outside, but Jack’s voice was right behind me. “Easton, stop!”

He grabbed my wrist, and I cried out, stumbling in the heels and slamming with all my weight against the wrought-iron railing of the staircase.

“Jack, please!” I cried, grabbing on to his hand with both of my own as I screamed, falling over the side.

“Jack!” I cried out, again grasping at his hand with both of mine.

He hung over the railing, grunting as he tried to pull me back up, but my legs flailed fifteen feet above the cement ground below, and I gripped his hand so tightly, my knuckles turned white.

I twisted my head, seeing the distance to the ground below me and crying out as my arms felt like they were being ripped from their sockets.

Jack grabbed underneath my arm with his hand, fear in his eyes as he tried to pull me back up.

“Jesus Christ!” Tyler bellowed, swinging his torso over the side and grabbing me, too. “What the hell happened?”

I breathed as fast as my heart beat, and I cried out as both of them pulled me back up over the side of the railing.

I instantly fell into Tyler, both of us slamming to the ground.

He pulled my body in to his, holding me tight. I hugged him close, hearing his heart race through his clothes as I laid my head against his chest.

“Come here,” he soothed, wrapping his arms around me.

I opened my eyes, seeing my brother on his knees by the railing. His broken eyes were filled with regret.

“Easton, please,” he whispered. “I would never hurt you.”

“What’s going on?” Tyler shot out.

But I just looked at my brother, my tears making him blurry. “You already did hurt me,” I told him. “You broke my heart.”

And then I looked up to Tyler, his brows pinched together in concern.

“Take me home,” I begged.

T
yler’s body shifted under me, and I opened my eyes to see him reaching over and switching on an iPod dock. The soft tune of Bush’s “Glycerine” drifted out of the speakers, and I closed my eyes, hearing the light rain tap against his bedroom windows as well.

“You put an iPod in here,” I said just above a whisper, nuzzling into the safe heat of his body.

His fingers grazed up and down my back as he kissed my forehead. “I’ve started taking time to enjoy the little things again,” he answered. “Rediscover my youth…”

My body shook with a little laugh. It was all I could manage, I was so tired. Mentally and physically.

“Yeah,” I joked. “I think I was two when this song came out.”

He snorted. “Well, listen and learn,” he shot back. “This comes from the last time music was good.”

“Mmmm,” I moaned, sliding my leg over his hip and laying my body on top of his.

I soaked up the sensation of his naked chest against my bare breasts, both of us completely unclothed under the sheets.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently, rubbing his hands up and down my side.

“Don’t ask me that,” I told him, lying on his chest with my eyes closed. “Ever.”

“Okay,” he replied quietly. “How do you feel?”

I laughed, loving how he’d gotten around that one.

I was sick of being worried about, coddled, and spending my time on things that didn’t bring me happiness.

Tyler was my happiness, and at that moment I was exactly where I wanted to be and doing exactly what I wanted to do.

“Safe,” I replied.

After we’d gotten home last night – and left my brother alone inside the school – we’d taken Christian to dinner at La Crepe Nanou. After I’d cried in Tyler’s car, argued with him about just staying at home for the night, and then dried my eyes. I wasn’t letting anything else get in our way. We’d promised Christian dinner out, and we weren’t disappointing him.

I was heartbroken over my brother’s betrayal, and I had no idea what we were going to do, how I would ever feel safe around him again, but I was done spending time holding myself back from life.

After dinner I’d dived into Tyler’s shower, neither of us caring that Christian probably knew I was spending the night. It wouldn’t be a habit, and we would be discreet, but Tyler wouldn’t let me go home after the episode, and Christian seemed thrilled to have me around anyway.

“I don’t want Jack around you,” Tyler insisted, taking my ass in both hands.

“Neither do I,” I assured him. “Not right now anyway.”

“Easton,” he warned, not liking the sound of that.

I opened my heavy lids and pushed myself up, my dark hair tickling my breasts.

“He wouldn’t have hurt me,” I said, staring down at him and running my hands up his chest.

“You don’t know that,” he pointed out. “He needs help.”

“I know.” I nodded. “I won’t agree to even the possibility of being in touch with him unless he gets some help first.”

I looked down at Tyler, ready to cry because I loved him so much. I touched him everywhere, my hands running over his chest and down his arms and then coming up to graze his face with my fingertips.

I rolled my hips, feeling him grow hard under me.

“Can you take me to my apartment in the morning?” I asked. “I need to take care of something.”

He kneaded my hips and ass, his breathing growing labored. “Of course,” he answered. “But I want you to stay here for a while.”

I shook my head, giving him a gentle “no.”

“Easton,” he bit out, looking at me with less patience.

I fell forward, planting my hands on both sides of his head. “Yes, Mr. Marek,” I sang out.

I heard his sigh.

“It’s not that I don’t want to be here,” I rushed out, “but it’s my apartment, and I’ll come and go as I like.”

“Then I want Patrick taking you to and from —”

But I got in his face and scowled at him as he tried to tell me what to do.

“All right,” he bit out. “You’re right. It just doesn’t make it any easier.”

I grabbed his lips, nibbling and kissing softly.

“Really?” I cooed. “Could you say that again?”

He chuckled. “Say what?”

“The part about me being right,” I shot back.

“I didn’t say that,” he growled into my mouth as I began grinding on him.

I moaned, feeling his tongue flick my upper lip and then catch my bottom lip between his teeth.

“I love you, Mr. Marek,” I teased, closing my eyes and kissing him back.

The wet heat of his mouth as I plunged my tongue inside sent me reeling, and I ground myself against him faster.

He whipped off the sheet and reached between us, grabbing his cock.

“Do you feel safe?” he asked me again. “I just need to make sure you’re okay.”

I arched my neck back and lifted up, positioning his cock at my entrance and slowly sitting back down, sliding him inside of me.

Smirking, I started moving up and down his dick. “My OCD hasn’t kicked in, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

He gripped my hips, dragging his bottom lip between his teeth as he felt me from the inside. “I kind of miss it,” he breathed out. “It was cute.”

I smiled, rolling my hips faster and harder.

“I’m all for eight orgasms tonight if you want,” I told him. “Do you have Viagra?”

“Viagra?” He scowled and shot up, rolling me over onto my back and breathing against my lips as he ground between my hips. “You’re going to pay for that.”

 

 

After school the next day, Christian attended soccer practice, and Tyler took me to my apartment. The last time I had been there had been only a little more than a day ago, before the interview and before my brother’s confession.

Tyler hadn’t wanted me to deal with returning this morning before school for fresh clothes, so he had called a shop and had Patrick pick me up a new outfit.

But I needed to come back today. To rid myself of bad memories and move on.

Coming back downstairs, I met Tyler, who waited in the living room in front of the fireplace. Holding the ziplock bags in my hands, I stared at the letters, seeing my former coach’s writing peeking out from the mess of torn paper.

“They’re all the letters that Chase wrote me,” I told him. “His obsessions, threats…” I trailed off. “I had never seen them before my parents died, and it was only afterward that I realized the full extent of how he threatened me and my family.”

“Why did you keep them?” he questioned.

I looked up at him, his navy blue tie loosened against his white shirt and heather-gray suit.

“My parents, my sister, Avery…” I began. “They died because I put them on the road that night. I took a risk I shouldn’t have for my own selfish reasons, and I deserved to remember that.”

“Did you think you would forget what you lost?”

I paused and then dropped my head, sighing.
No, I will never forget.
I felt the pain of their deaths every day. But back then, taking any kind of a risk made me feel like there was no control. There was no “careful.”

For so long I had felt like I was in a stalemate with Chase, waiting for something to fucking happen, and when I finally chose to give up the control and say “Fuck it, let’s see what happens,” I liked it.

But I hadn’t realized that I wasn’t just risking myself. There were others I didn’t think about.

“I deserved to be punished,” I told him.

He touched my face, meeting my eyes. “You could never have known.”

No, I couldn’t. But carelessness brings consequences. I should’ve known that.

Which accounted for my behavior of making my life afterward as controlled as possible.

“Easton, there’s no line you can walk that’s safe enough,” Tyler implored. “You didn’t do anything out of malice. Crimes deserve to be punished. Mistakes deserve to be forgiven.”

I nodded, finally understanding the truth behind his words. And I was ready.

Opening the bags, I dumped the contents into the fireplace and lit a match from up on the mantel. Leaning down, I lit the scraps on fire and stood back upright, both of us watching them turn to ash.

Taking his hand, I breathed out a sigh of relief, finally feeling better than I had since before I could remember.

“Are you ever going to be careful with me?” I asked quietly, watching the flames burn bright.

“No.”

I looked up at him, my lips curling into a small smile. “Good.”

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