STEPBROTHERS (3 Book Stepbrother Romance Collection) (41 page)

He nodded, and with that promise made, he pushed me down onto the workout bench, my eye line now in front of his tented crotch.

Just say it. Please just say it.
I was in a desperate position, not wanting to give the game away too soon.

Travis fondled my tits, then gave them a hard slap. My eyes went wide.

This was going too far… and I was afraid he wasn’t going to say it, I realised. But then he smiled, enjoying himself. “Oh, Dottie. It was perfect. All this is mine now.”

“A businessman… the man in charge,” I said, giving him the encouragement he needed to continue.

“Yeah, and all it took was to shoot that hotel owner, Donte. The one Vincent had roughed up, to set him up. He didn’t have the ball to go through with it I guess… but I did. Easy peasy.”

Gotcha!
Now to figure a way out without him becoming suspicious, I thought.

“
Oh, my. You shot him? Guns really turn me on, you know.”

“You mean like these?” he said as he extended his arms up and flexed his biceps, popping the thick muscles in what seemed to be a musical beat.

I giggled, and while his hands were off me I took the opportunity to get back onto my feet and slip a step away from him, dragging a teasing finger along the bumpy landscape of his muscly arms.

“I’ll be right back. I’m just going to freshen up for you.”

He caught my waist in his arms and pulled my body to his. But this was no time to panic. I wiggled my butt against his crotch. “I don’t think I want you to go right now,” he said, his hard-on ever present.

“Oh, honey. I ain’t going nowhere. But you gotta let me pee. Then I’ll be all yours,” I promised.

My heart was beating fast; what if he said no? What if he decided he was going to get what he wanted whether I liked it or not? I started to think this whole thing was a bad idea… and god help me if the little recording app hadn’t picked up his confession. I didn’t have much time to test it out before leaving the apartment, and I’d switched it on when I arrived at the gym. But I had no idea if perhaps there was a shut off timer, or if it could hear our voices through the layers of material of my little clutch.

Travis kissed my neck, then all of suddenly let me go. He slapped me hard on the backside, propelling me forward, encouraging me to be quick.

“Don’t be long.”

I gave him a sly wink over my shoulder and then with a determined but slow, seductive pace walked across the expansive gym towards the lockers, following the faded, weathered sign for the toilets. I swayed my hips for good measure, giving him a little bit of a show—a taste of what was yet to come… but there would be no main event for Travis.

Turning out of sight down a dimmed corridor, I picked up my pace. I knew it had to be around here somewhere—the fire exit door I’d furiously kicked in frustration not too long ago. I only had to get to it, open it and run around the side of the building and into the haven of my car before he got suspicious, then everything would be ok…

I just had to find it first.

I turned down another corridor, passed the sign for the toilets and continued; a faded green glow in the distance called me to the exit. Almost there.

As my fingers touched the cool steel bar of the fire exit I heard a noise behind me. I held my breath and listened.

Footsteps. Travis’s footfalls echoing down the narrow hallways were getting closer.

My mind went into overdrive and without any further hesitation I pushed my entire weight against the bar. For a second I didn’t think it was going to budge… possibly rusted with age, it might be stuck. I might be trapped, I thought. But with a quick second shove the door sprang free.

A wailing alarm sounded.

Deafening my ears, my senses felt blinded by the screech. The bloody door had triggered the fire alarm.

He’d know now, I thought.

Fuck.

I ran, heart furiously trying to keep up, trying desperately to force enough oxygen through my panicked body. Driving myself forward, I made it around the corner of the building when I heard him yell my name.

“Come back here, you fucking whore!”

I lost my footing, a heel skidded off into the dark, and my ankle throbbed painfully. Hobbling, I kept moving, digging into my clutch for the keys. I didn’t dare look behind me, didn’t dare waste the precious seconds.

Luckily I had the foresight not to lock my car, and when my hands reached the handle I pulled it open, tearing a nail in the process.

I jumped in quick, slammed the lock down and shoved the keys into the ignition, my trembling hands making hard work of it.

Travis came out of the shadows, a nightmarish image. His eyes bulged with rage, pure hatred running through his veins.

The car squealed to life as he came alongside; his fist pounded into the hood of the car, inches away from the windshield. And even though he was slight in comparison to Vincent, I had felt those muscles—they were every bit as real—and I had little doubt that he would try to smash his way in and would succeed.

He slammed his casted fist against the driver’s side window, making me jump, a small gasp of fright escaping upon my lips. My hand slipped on the gear stick, my bare foot on the clutch.

The sound of grinding gears mashing together made me start to panic even more, and beads of sweat dripped down my spine.
He was going to get me if I didn’t pull it the fuck together.

A rapid breath, and another punch at the window—the glass started to splinter into crystallised spider’s webs—I managed to find the right gear and reversed the car out of the parking lot.

Thank goodness there wasn’t any traffic on the road, as I hadn’t even thought to check my mirrors, wanting only to get away from him. Away to safety.

Out the corner of my eye I saw him running towards me, but he was too late. I’d regained my confidence—giddy bouts of adrenaline surging through my body made me feel invincible—and my driving ability returned, enabling me to speed away. I left Travis furious in the middle of the road.

I
’d always known
that one day I’d end up in prison. It was only a matter of time. I’d tried so desperately to change the course of my life, to get it back on track, to leave the scheming, the unlawful activities behind… and for a second there I might’ve actually been successful at it. Might’ve become a law abiding citizen, content with his lot in life.

But then I’d seen her, wanted her and known I would’ve done anything for her.

She wouldn’t have even had to ask… and she didn’t.

It had all changed when I’d glimpsed a moment of her eyes.

It didn’t matter that I now knew that she was my stepsister. All that shit meant nothing.

I knew what was true in my heart.

And, fuck, I’d rot a thousand years in this cell for her.

I lay on my cot, arms behind my head, wondering if she was OK, thinking of her sweet lips and the taste that would no doubt drive me insane in here. But that wouldn’t stop me from replaying last night over and over in my head. I suspected it would be the only thing that would get me through.

They hadn’t let me have any visitors yet, probably wouldn’t until morning anyway, and I fully expected that there would be none, apart from Thea. Perhaps under other circumstances Travis might’ve made an appearance, but he would be playing it cool. He’d give me some excuse later that he was too busy to come. He had a business to run now… my fucking business. He’d make it sound like he was doing me a favour, all the while I knew it had been him who had set me up.

He’d followed me to the hotel, seen me rough Donte up—my blood coating his face, the perfect evidence. He waited till I was gone and did what had to be done… what I couldn’t do. I shook my head. What the hell was I thinking? I should be happy I wasn’t a killer, but for some reason it made me feel less of a man, like I didn’t have the balls to go the whole way.

God, this was how it was going to be, wasn’t it? Hours upon hours in my own head, going over things I couldn’t change, debating small nuances with myself.

I had to keep a clear head. I sat up and started to pace the cramped quarters that were to be home until I was transferred to somewhere bigger. They hadn’t told me when or where, and I’d yet to speak to a solicitor… fat lot of good it would do. They were sweating me out… fuck, was it hot in here?

Trying to regain the track I’d been following, I remembered the gun. If Travis still had it—it couldn’t have been a coincidence that the safe had been emptied—it would be the one piece of evidence that could help me… unless he’d used gloves. My fingerprints were all over that thing. I sighed, another dead end.

And then there was Travis’s car. I’d switched to his thinking it would be safer… someone had to have tipped them off, someone who knew I’d taken it.

Yes, there were a few guys at the gym who could’ve overheard us… but they were loyal.
You thought Travis was loyal.

All this and more was spinning me in circles when a loud clank sounded at the cell door. A metal key turned in the lock, and the heavy door opened.

“You’re free to go,” the officer grumbled.

I blinked at him. I couldn’t already be hearing this, driven mad in the shortest time possible, could I?

“Are you just going to stand there, or what? I haven’t got all piggin’ day! You’re out on bail, I said!”

I couldn’t understand it, but I wasn’t about to argue with the man who held the door to my freedom. I followed him out of the cell and into the corridor beyond.

“
D
ottie
, is that you? What the hell are you wearing?” My father stood at his front door dressed in his silk pyjamas, eyes bleary from sleep, bags under his eyes. “And where are your shoes?”

“I need to come in. We need to talk,” I said as I pushed past him, not taking no for an answer.

We may have been in a really bad place then. We’d both said some things, and I was still furious that he hadn’t helped Vincent when I knew full well he could’ve, but he was literally my last hope.

I’d played back the recording on my phone to make sure it was all there, but I didn’t want to risk it getting buried by the police if I took it in. There was only one person I could trust with it, trusting that his sense of justice would override what he heard on there about me. I trusted that he would do the right thing and get it into the right hands and see to it that Vincent was let go.

I paced the hallway, and he closed the door.

“What’s all this about, and where is your coat? You look like… well, I don’t want to say what you look like. But it isn’t appropriate, not for my daughter!”

“Dad! Stop. It doesn’t matter why I’m dressed like a slut—”

“Dottie!”

“Shut up! I need you to listen to me,” I said, a flare of anger bubbling to the surface, I just needed him to hear me for once in his life. “Please, Daddy? Five minutes, then I’ll never see you again, I promise.”

He nodded and he moved into his study off the main corridor of the house. This room used to give me so much comfort, the warmth of the wood panelling and all those books, all that knowledge at my fingertips, a place where I could also come to my father for help. But it felt like coming clean in this room now would sully all those old memories.

My father eased into the leather executive’s chair behind a solid, wide desk. There were already so many barriers between us, what was one more, I thought?

He spread his hand wide, a gesture for me to proceed, that he was listening. That the clock was ticking.

I took out the phone and tapped to the recording. This would be it; there would be no turning back after this. After he heard my words, my voice, saying and revealing things that no father should ever have to hear his daughter saying…

“Well?” He raised an eyebrow impatiently, and I swallowed the fear in my throat. It was the only way to save Vincent.

I had to come clean.

I pressed play and lay the phone on the desk and stepped away so it was no longer in my reach, so I wasn’t tempted to snatch it back and turn it off.

“Dottie?”

“Just listen. Please?”

He nodded.

I closed my eyes and walked to the other end of the room, unable to look at him as he listened.

“What am I listening to?” he said all of sudden, shocked, as my dirty words filled the room. It felt like the room was closing in on me while shame built up inside my body.

I saw him reach for the phone to turn it off, and I shook my head. “No, you have to hear this.”

Finally Travis’ voice came out of the tiny speakers, his confession clear as day.

My father winced. That was not the reaction I was hoping for.

He started shaking his bowed head and took a breath.

“You see, Daddy, you have to help him. Vincent is innocent.”

Infuriatingly he continued moving his head from side to side. He looked up. Disappointment and regret filled his eyes.

Tears were brimming in mine. “Why won’t you help him?” I cried. “For all your talk of justice, all these years telling me I had to do what was right, no matter what… and yet when there’s proof, right there on the table, you won’t lift a finger to help him? Help the man I love!”

My father’s shoulders sagged, and he took in a surprised gasp.

“Dottie…”

“No, Daddy. Tell me why you won’t help him. After all I had to do!”

“Dottie, you don’t understand—”

“Understand what?” I shouted, the force of my rage sending my father’s eyes wide.

“I already did.”

I let his words sink in.

“What?”

He came around the desk as I collapsed into a chair. He knelt by my side, old knees creaking to find the floor as he took my hand. I wanted to slap him away, but I let him take it.

“I pulled a few strings and got Vincent released on bail. He should be getting through processing right about now.”

“You helped him?”

He nodded.

I couldn’t understand it after he’d been so adamant. “But why?”

“You.” He sighed. “Your face at the police station. Your disappointment in me. I couldn’t bear it. You looked just like you mother… And if you were telling me he was innocent, then it had to be true. I’d never know you to lie to me before…” He trailed off, remembering the recording.

Hot tears streamed down my face. All of it for nothing… well, not nothing. The relief that I no longer had to hide, that everything was out in the open was exquisite.

“I’m sorry I let you down, I’m sorry I disappointed you,” I said and burst into tears.

My father pulled me into a hug. I could hear him choke back his own tears. “I only ever wanted you to be happy… whatever that means.”

We held onto each other for a time. It’d been so long since I’d properly hugged my father; I felt like a little girl again. My daddy the judge, the hero who put bad men behind bars and set good men free. Everything seemed right again. Except one thing.

I pulled back and gazed at him, wanting him to hear me say it again. “I love him, you know?”

“Vincent?”

I nodded.

A small smile sneaked upon his lips. “You can’t help who you fall in love with.”

He shook his head slightly. “It’s not what I dreamed for you. And I’m not sure I can accept it right away, but as long as you’re happy, I will tolerate it.” He sighed and got back to his feet. “Give me time, Dottie. Give me time.”

T
here was
no doubt in my mind Vincent would be at my apartment waiting for me. After being released I could only think that he would go back there to see me. Of course, he could go in the complete opposite direction and fuck everything up, screw up his bail by tracking Travis down and doling out some punishment, but I had to hope he was stronger than that, that he would do the sensible thing.

I turned the car off and stepped out. There were lights on in my flat, and I smiled. Relief, excitement and everything in between flowed through me. I ran to the door, fiddled with the lock for a moment and then sprinted up the stairs in bare feet. I’d discarded the other heel long ago, and my stockings had torn.

“Vincent?” I shouted full of happy anticipation. We’d only been apart mere hours, but it felt like a lifetime. Too long, and my heart almost couldn’t bear it.

I rounded the corner, stepped into the living room and screamed.

Travis had taken up residence in the armchair in the corner, a gun on his lap and a devilish grin on his face.

“Oh there you are, thought I’d lost you,” he said, his tone full of fake surprise, and he jumped up.

I spun away too late, my legs an unmoving, useless mass of muscle that had petrified the moment I’d glimpsed his face and his eyes. Oh god his eyes, he intended to do terrible things to me, and there was nothing I’d be able to do stop him.

He snared me within his bulging arms and lifted me a few inches from the floor, my feet dangling above the carpet as he dragged me into the dark bedroom.

I screamed at the top of my lungs, praying my neighbours, a passer-by, anyone would hear me and call for help, but his meaty fingers soon put a stop to that.

With his fingers on my lips I could taste the bitter, metallic residue of the gun he’d been holding. Where it had gone I couldn’t see. I wanted to spit in his face, but I settled for taking a chunk out of his only working hand.

He roared as my teeth clamped down upon the finger he’d seen fit to shove into my mouth. And when I wouldn’t let go, his blood trickling down the corners of my mouth, he threw me onto the bed.

“You fucking bitch!”

He pulled the gun out from his waistband, raised it, and pointed it at my head.

“You’re going to do as I say, do you understand?”

I spat a combination of my saliva and his blood in his direction, some of it landing on his t-shirt, some splattering onto his face.

He took an angry step forward, and instinctively I cowered; the gun was inches away.

“Whatever you used to record me on, you’re going to hand over. Right. Fucking. Now.”

With my hands over my head I answered. “I don’t have it.” And it was the truth. I’d forgotten all about my phone, had left it on my father’s desk. In my haste to get back to Vincent, it hadn’t even occurred to me to collect it.

“You’re lying!”

“I’m not!” I yelled back.

With an open hand he slapped me across the face, sending me sprawling to the other side of the bed.

“So help me god, if you're lying…”

“I promise, I don’t have it. The police have it now,” I lied, twisting the knife. There was no getting out of this… so why go gently?

In an instant Travis was upon me, wrestling me off the bed, and we fell in a heap onto the floor. He lay the cast down onto my neck, holding me still, while the rest of his body pinned me like a struggling butterfly, trying to get free. But it was useless; he was far too large. I tried going for his face, clawing at his eyes, but he was sensible enough to arch his head out of the way of my attack.

I tried to scream when his free hand lifted my dress and started exploring, but all that came out was a wheeze.

I looked up into Travis’s eyes, but he was gone, a machine that would stop at nothing.

A shadow moved in the room, but I could only think it was a trick of the lights filtering in from the street outside. My oxygen-starved brain was seeing things when there was nothing there to see.

But then it was as if all the light in Travis’ eyes went out, and his head fell forward. A blank, unconscious stare gazed back at me as his body sank onto of mine.

“Get off her!” a man bellowed, the whites of his eyes shining.

I thought I was imagining Vincent there in the room, grabbing Travis and throwing him across the room, but as I gasped for air and my focus returned, his hand reached out to me, and I knew it was him.

Vincent brought me to his chest, his heart beating against my ear as I latched onto him, sobbing with relief. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated softly. “God, I don’t what I would’ve done if I’d lost you. You are my everything.”

We sat on the floor, arms, legs and everything entwined, recovering. I let the anguish of the whole night rain out of me; tears dripped off my face onto Vincent's solid chest.

“It’s going to be ok,” he reassured me.

I nodded, feeling him sigh with his own relief.

“We should call the police.”

“In a moment, I just need to hold you. Let me hold you for a few more seconds.”

Travis groaned from the other side of the room, and my eyes shot open. Vincent kissed my forehead, gave me a reassuring squeeze and got to his feet to confront his cousin.

“Travis, stay down. Don’t make me hurt you again.”

I saw Vincent’s eyes flicker to the gun that Travis had dropped when he went for me. I swallowed. He was thinking of using it, putting a stop to the madness, eager to get revenge for everything Travis had put us through.

“What the fuck?” Travis said in muffled pain. From my position on the other side of the bed, I saw him wobble to his feet, his hand clutching his head, confusion clouding his face. “What did you do that for?”

“I told you to stay down,” Vincent warned for a second time.

The air in the room had become tense, as if it had just filled with charged static. Vincent was on edge, his hands balled up into tight fists, then they flexed opened, over and over again. As if he’d made a decision, he took a step towards the gun.

“Vincent, no…” I said, my plea trailing off into nothingness as he took a second step.