Her Wicked Stepbrother: A Nolan Bastards Novella Page 12

  One night, she sat on the bed, rereading passages from Great Expectations, which Mr. Strickland threatened would be on their final exam the next day, while Aiden explored her room.

  When he slid a book from her shelves, she glanced up. “You won’t like that.”

  Cracking open the spine, he moved toward the bed. “You don’t know what I like.”

  “You read romance novels?”

  “Not yet.” The mattress dipped beneath him when he settled on the bed and flipped to the first page. “Have you read it?”

  She nodded.

  “Did you like it?”

  Her head bobbed again.

  “Can I borrow it?”

  She raised the book in her hands. “You’re supposed to be reading this.”

  “Already read it,” he murmured, his attention riveted on the text.

  Heat crept into her cheeks. “Why do you want to read it?”

  His head came up. “I want to know what you like. I want to know everything about you.”

  The smile remained on her face when she returned to the depressing novel.

  “What’s this?” he asked a little while later.

  She looked over at him.

  Between his fingers, he cradled the brass key dangling on a string hooked around her bedpost.

  Her gaze dropped to the book. “It’s a key.”

  “What’s it to?”

  “The front door…” Her throat suddenly dry, she swallowed with difficulty. “Of the old house.”

  Her heart punched her breastbone with a painful thud, then another, and another, before he spoke. “You kept a key?”

  The flash of gold when he flipped the tiny object over drew her gaze. “It was my mom’s housekey. I used to think she forgot it when she left, so I held on to it for her.” She risked a peek at his face. “In case she came back to get it.”

  For a moment, he stared at her. Then the key slipped through his fingers. It clattered softly against the headboard while he crawled over to her and claimed her mouth with his.

  The kiss wasn’t gentle in the way all his other kisses had been. His mouth possessed hers, greedy and demanding.

  “You’re amazing,” he growled as he moved over her.

  With rough hands, he shoved the edge of her sleepshirt over her waist and nestled between her thighs. He snatched a condom from the bedside table and rolled it into place. Then, with all the passion and emotion that’d suddenly risen inside him, he fucked her.

  He fucked her, and she loved it. She loved everything about it.

  She loved him.

  She loved his dark eyes and his scarce smile. She loved the way his brown-black hair fell over his forehead while he eased his hard erection inside her. She even loved that his family meant so much to him, despite that very affection being the reason he remained convinced they could never be together.

  He fucked her slowly. With his face close to hers, he peered into her eyes.

  “You’re amazing,” he said, repeating his outrageous claim.

  As long as he moved inside her, she let herself believe it was true.

  He increased their rhythm. Every thrust delivered a surge of desire, pushing out all the love in her heart until she could no longer contain it.

  Unbearable pleasure ripped a gasp from her throat. “I love you.”

  She didn’t know what his reaction would be to her confession, but she hadn’t expected the smug smile that tipped one corner of his mouth.

  “I loved you first,” he said.

  “You did not.”

  His hips slowed, and his eyes grew serious. “I did so.”

  “I loved you, like, the first week we met.”

  The tips of his fingers brushed the side of her cheek. “And I loved you from the first moment I laid eyes on you.”

  Stunned, she gaped at him. “You hated me.”

  “That’s what I wanted you to think.”

  “Why?”

  Unable to hold off, his hips inched up and back down. “Because I thought if you thought I hated you, you wouldn’t notice how crazy you make me. Hot. Horny. Hopeful.”

  “Hopeful?” she breathed as his hot flesh pushed inside her.

  “That’s how it feels to love you.” When he kissed her, he tugged gently on her bottom lip. “Like anything and everything is possible.”

  His love poured from him, and she wrapped her legs around her waist, wanting everything he could give her. After doubting herself for so many years, she relished the feel of his love, luminescent and warm. Soft and true.

  With a groan, he dropped his head, pressing his forehead to hers.

  Inexplicably, tears welled in her eyes. “I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve never felt so… so….”

  He found her hand in the dark and, interlacing his fingers with hers, pressed their joined hands to the mattress above their heads. “Me either.”

  His long, languid thrusts became shorter and less even, and his pleas for her to be quiet were forgotten with his own expanding need.

  “One day—” The words clogged in her throat. “We’ll find a way to be together, won’t we?”

  His lips found the side of her throat, and she tilted her head, giving him better access.

  The tears that had pooled in the corner of her eyes leaked out. “Please tell me there’s a way.”

  He growled, and his pumping hips drove the doubts and fears from her heart.

  When the first voluptuous waves of her orgasm rippled outward from low in her belly, she bit down on his shoulder to stop from crying out his name. His climax sent him hurdling over the cliff behind her.

  After his breathing had slowed, he left the bed and disappeared into the dark bathroom. A few moments later, he returned to the bed and slipped beneath the sheets.

  He pulled her against him and wrapped his large body around her.

  Soon, the rhythm of his breathing told her he slept.

  He never did answer her.

  But she didn’t mind. Not then.

  For in that moment, suspended in the twilight of his love, she also believed anything was possible. She had never experienced feelings of such pure joy. Light and warmth.

  Hope.

  It was a magical moment. A gift of wonder and bliss.

  A fleeting rapture, right before it all fell apart.

  Chapter 13

  The terrible roar jerked her from a dreamless sleep.

  Beside her, Aiden cursed and stumbled from her bed.

  “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” Her dad’s booming voice shattered the early morning quiet.

  Dressed in only his boxer briefs, Aiden held out his hands at his sides.

  Her dad’s gaze raked over her, taking in her sleep-rumpled hair and her bare shoulders.

  She tugged the covers up to her chin.

  “You son of a bitch.” The words leaked from between her dad’s clenched teeth as a hiss. By slow turns, he faced Aiden. “I welcome you into my home, treat you like my son, and this is how you repay me? By taking advantage of my daughter?”

  Brynn clutched the sheets tight around her nakedness and scrambled from the bed. “No, Dad, he didn’t—”

  Her dad’s fist crashed into Aiden’s jaw.

  She gasped in horror as Aiden stumbled back.

  Fury twisted with anguish on her dad’s features. “You—you—you raped her.”

  “Dad, no—” The crack of another fist crashing into Aiden’s face wrenched an agonized cry from her.

  Aiden collapsed against the wall. He clenched his fists, and the muscles of his chest and torso bunched while he glared up at her dad.

  “She’s a child.” Red splotches mottled her dad’s face. “I should call the police. Have you arrested.”

  “Dad! Stop it, please.” She’d never seen him so overcome with rage. Real terror climbed up her spine as he towered over Aiden. “It isn’t like that.”

  When he cocked his elbow, she lunged forward, but her panicked grasps at his arm
failed to stop him throwing the next punch, or the next.

  Big, meaty fists pummeled Aiden while tears streamed down her cheeks. Screams filled her throat. Why didn’t Aiden fight back? He didn’t cower, or counterstrike, or even raise his arm to block the blows.

  A thunderous roar erupted, and Cian’s large body flew by, driving into her dad with a sickening collision of flesh and bone. They hurtled into the dresser, and the lamp perched on top clattered to the floor with a booming bang.

  Her dad bellowed in pain. He held out a hand to stay Cian and dragged sharp gulps of air into his lungs.

  The baby’s piercing cries carried through the house as, slowly, Cian backed away, moving to stand in front of Aiden. Feet planted wide, his eyes blazed and his chest heaved.

  Rory slipped into the room and hastened to Cian’s side. Together they formed a shield between their older brother and their stepdad.

  With a grunt, Aiden climbed to his feet. Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.

  The adrenaline seemed to leave her dad’s body all at once. His shoulders slumped and the wild fury drained away, until only the anguish remained.

  “You bastard,” he rasped.

  “Do not call me that,” Aiden said in a low, lethal voice.

  Her dad hung his head. “How could you do this to me?”

  The echo of betrayal reverberated through Brynn. “I love him.”

  His head snapped up, and repulsion contorted his face. He’d never looked at her that way before. With disgust and bottomless disappointment.

  Brynn’s heart splintered.

  Siobhan appeared in the doorway, jostling the screeching baby, who was bundled tight in her arms.

  “You think he loves you?” her dad spat, as though he spoke the most ludicrous combination of words ever to be strung together.

  Aiden slipped between his brothers and stepped forward. His dark eyes clamped on Brynn. “I do.”

  Her dad made a dismissive sound. “The same way you love all the girls, I suppose. You are your dad’s son, after all.”

  “Dad!”

  Siobhan gasped and jiggled Brigid more briskly, which continued to have no effect on the baby’s wails of protest.

  “Brynn, I forbid it.”

  “I am n-not a child.” When Aiden slipped his hand inside hers, she clasped his fingers tight. “I’m eighteen now.”

  She saw the moment her dad realized that she stated the truth. He expressed no remorse, nor did he offer an apology for forgetting her birthday.

  Instead, he set his jaw and stared Aiden down. “This is still my house, and you’re no longer welcome in it.”

  Siobhan gasped her husband’s name.

  With a tug on her hand, Aiden spun her toward him. “Come with me.”

  “What?” Her heart pounded in her ears. “Where would we go?”

  “Anywhere you want.” His fingers brushed her cheek. “Just come with me.”

  “Brynn Marie, don’t you dare even think about it.”

  At the plaintive devastation in her dad’s voice, Brynn turned her head.

  Aiden slipped his fingers under her chin and gently drew her face back to his. “We can be together. The way you want.”

  “What about Samantha Whitaker?” Each word dropped from her dad’s tongue like the strike of a sledgehammer.

  Each word landed with a gash of devastation on Brynn’s heart. She watched the soft tenderness on Aiden’s face drain away.

  Drawing to his full height, Aiden faced her dad squarely. “What about her?”

  “It’s your baby she’s having.”

  Pain knifed through Brynn and erupted as a gasp.

  “That’s not true.” Aiden twisted toward her. “It’s not true.”

  “Are you saying you didn’t sleep with her?” The hammer of her dad’s words thrashed wildly, wringing unbearable agony with each crushing blow.

  Dark eyes held her captive, and she searched them, desperate for something that might calm the storm of misery building inside her.

  Could it be true? Had Aiden slept with Sam and gotten her pregnant? Brynn tried to recall the exact words he’d told her, but an image of him and Sam talking at his locker only the day before ricocheted around inside her skull and thwarted her efforts to retrieve the memory.

  So she peered into his eyes, grasping for something, anything she could latch onto for safety. What she found shattered her heart into a trillion jagged pieces.

  Sorrow. Regret. His throat worked.

  But he didn’t deny it.

  “I can explain.”

  A sob tore from her. “It’s true?”

  “I didn’t say that—”

  “What are you saying?” Brynn’s dad barked. “That she’s lying about being pregnant?”

  “I have no idea if she’s pregnant or not,” Aiden bit out. “If she is, it isn’t mine.”

  “Oh, Aiden.” In Siobhan’s arms, Brigid squealed her outrage, as though she, too, felt the lashes of sorrow that whipped Brynn.

  Aiden seized both Brynn’s hands in his. “Brynn, please, come with me.” Desperation clawed at his features and abraded his voice.

  “Brynn, I’m warning you, if you leave now, I will never speak to you again.”

  She dragged her gaze away from Aiden. Next to him, her dad appeared slight, even feeble. Grief aged him, drawing deep lines around his eyes and mouth.

  In that moment, he reminded her so much of the man he became in those terrible days after her mom left that she blinked several times, hoping the image of her broken, defeated father might change.

  It didn’t.

  Even her dad’s deep voice sounded frail. “You wouldn’t leave me, would you, pumpkin?”

  The way your mother did.

  “Brynn, please.” Aiden’s plea struck her heart.

  When she looked at him, his dark eyes glittered with emotion. Unspeakable, unbearable emotion. And she knew whatever words she spoke next would forever seal their fate.

  Silent tears falling, she opened her mouth. “I… I… can’t go with you.”

  * * *

  Within the hour, Aiden was gone from the house.

  Gone from her life.

  In the days that followed, a veil of misery fell over her. How had everything gone so terribly wrong so quickly?

  The horrible scene replayed in her mind on a relentless, torturous loop that left her raw and aching with regret. Had Aiden lied to her about being with those other girls? Had he slept with Samantha Whitaker? Recently enough that she could be pregnant now?

  If so, could he have ever really loved Brynn the way he’d claimed?

  The barbs of doubt punctured and wounded.

  Days turned into weeks, and life went on around her. In sleep, she found no relief from the despair. Awake, she filled her time with distraction, throwing herself into her work at her dad’s business for the summer.

  But no matter how she tried to block out reality, truth intruded. She couldn’t ignore or wish away the fact that Aiden’s absence changed them all.

  Rory became like a ghost. Rarely was he home, and when he did stay inside the house, he remained barricaded behind his bedroom door.

  Cian still appeared at the dinner table once in a while, though he often sported a black eye or a fat lip and always wore a menacing scowl for her dad.

  Once, Siobhan asked him about the new bruise darkening his left eye. “What happened to your face this time?”

  “Another fight.”

  “Ye look terrible.”

  A cruel smile had curled his swollen upper lip. “The other kid looks worse.”

  Siobhan and her dad no longer flirted at the dinner table or snuggled on the couch. For weeks after that night, neither spoke to the other. Eventually their frostiness thawed, but snuggling was replaced with cool glances, flirting with bickering. They argued about silly, inconsequential things, which Brynn understood was their way of disagreeing about Aiden without ever mentioning his name.

  Even little Brigid see
med to feel the loss of her brother. Around the same time every evening, she’d begin to fuss and eventually would work up to a full-blown fit. Her shrill, violent shrieks might echo through the house for hours before she exhausted herself. But despite having worn herself out, she refused to sleep more than a few hours at a time, and Brynn often took turns with Siobhan holding and rocking her through the night.

  When school started in the fall, Brynn began her freshman year at Northwestern, where Molly had also enrolled. While Molly made friends and went out on dates, Brynn focused on her studies and worked at her dad’s growing company.

  One afternoon in mid-October, she popped into a campus café to grab a quick snack between classes, but when she’d paid the cashier for her selection and turned away from the counter, she nearly crashed into Samantha Whitaker.

  Brynn reared back. Clutching her sandwich tightly, she gaped at her high school nemesis, who was still gorgeous, tall and slim with large breasts and a flat stomach.

  A demonstrably unpregnant stomach.

  Over one shoulder, Sam carried a backpack and small purse, but there was no sign of a baby, or a diaper bag, or any of the thousand and one other things Siobhan kept on her person whenever she left the house. Nor did her blouse have any yellowed stains on the shoulders or chest to indicate a baby had recently spit up on her.

  A weak sort of half smile twitched at the corner of Sam’s mouth before she continued her conversation with another girl in line. She ignored Brynn completely, as though nothing had changed and they were still in high school.

  Brynn had no idea what to make of any of it.

  That Christmas, Aiden didn’t come home.

  Nor did he come home for her birthday that spring, as he’d promised her he would.

  She tried to forget him, but he persisted in her memory, the way a bright flash of a camera did when she closed her eyes.

  The next summer, Brynn packed her belongings into boxes, which she then loaded into the used sedan she’d bought for a few hundred dollars from one of the neighbors. She experienced a small tug of sorrow to be leaving her dad’s home, but she was anxious to move into the apartment she and Molly had rented near campus.

  Though not nearly as anxious as she was to get away from the memories of Aiden that still haunted her bedroom.