Unleashed (A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance) (69 page)

I stare at the old man, at the way he thinks he looks casual and carefree, but really, he’s just pretending.

Down in the lobby, while we wait for Cassie and Mom, her father has got his shirt unbuttoned, but I can tell that’s a new development. His hair is a little messy, and he keeps raising his hand, as if he’s going to smooth it over, recreate a parting, but then stops himself.

He’s eyeballing me, too.

“What are you looking at, Kyle?” I ask him.

“You’ll call me ‘Sir’,” he says.

I just laugh. “Sorry,
what?
”

He clears his throat, somehow manages to sit even straighter, and folds up his newspaper carefully and puts it over his knee. “You’ll call me ‘Sir’.”

I pretend to think about it. “Nah, no I won’t.”

“I’m your stepfather now,” he says. “In my family, it’s how we’ve done it for generations.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your family tradition,” I say. “Or your insecure ego.”

His face starts to get redder. What the fuck is wrong with this guy? He’ll have a heart attack if he keeps on like this. I know why he dislikes me so intensely – it’s because I threaten him.

At first, I thought it was because he had smelled something going on between Cassie and I. But now that I’ve spent a little time with him, it’s clear he just hates the idea that I won’t yield to him.

What on Earth my mother sees in him, I’ll never know.

“I can see we’re going to have to work on your attitude.”

“Oh just shut the fuck up, would you?”

He seriously looks like he’s going to explode. I pull out my cigarette pack.

“You’ll not smoke in here, young man.”

I glance around, and my eyes settle on the marble ashtray in front of me. “We’re sitting in the smoking section.”

“I’m telling you not to smoke.”

I laugh, and light my cigarette. “You don’t get to tell me jack shit.”

He’s panting now, struggling to breathe, and his face is this strange mix of purple and red.

“I’m going to have a talk with your mother—”

“You fucking talk to my mother then,” I say, standing up and stepping toward him. I can see he’s clearly intimidated, he shrinks back in his seat, but I’m just walking past him, toward the hotel’s entrance.

“We’re going to get you sorted out, Chance,” he says at my back from his sofa in the lobby, but I ignore him.

That’s when I notice her. Cass. She’s standing by the elevators, and she’s looking at me, arms folded. Her eyes go from me to her father.

She looks… not angry. I can’t place it, but for some reason, it makes me feel like shit.

Fuck.

I leave the hotel, and step out into the cool afternoon air. It’s damp – it’s obviously just rained – and I can no longer tell the difference between my breath and my exhaled cigarette smoke.

“Why are you such a dick all the time?”

I turn around to see Cassie, and I shrug.

“Your dad was the dick.”

“He just asked you not to smoke. Why are you trying to start drama? Cause shit? Why can’t you just not be confrontational with my dad, not pull your bullshit with me? You know that every bit of tension will affect us, right? Will affect me?”

I look her up and down. Her hair is still wet from her shower, pulled to the side. She’s wearing a sweater and jeans. My eyes linger on the swell of her breasts.

“I don’t care about your dad.”

“But
I
care about him!” she cries at me. Others walking by on the street look at us. “I also care about keeping this holiday as drama-free as possible. I care about them not finding out about
us
.”

“Well, he’s nobody to me.”

“Is that all you’ve got up there in your thick skull, Chance? What’s good for
you?
”

I look at her hard in the eyes.

“You’re trying to hide from everything. What’s the big problem? You’re pushing in every direction. First you’re pissed at your dad, now at me, what exactly is it you want?”

She sighs, shaking her head. “For none of this to ever have happened. For my plan to remain unchanged. For my life to work out in the way I envisioned it.”

“Can’t deal with a little change?”

“You’re not dealing with that change particularly well, either. What’s your end-game, riling up my father?”

I shrug. “It’s amusing. He’s a pathetic excuse for a man.”

I see it, then. I see her face fall. I see that what I’ve said upsets her. I knew that it would, but somehow, I’m not prepared for the impact it’s going to have on me.

It… it feels like
shit
.

“Fuck you, Chance,” she says.

“I just call it like it is.”

“Remember when you punched that guy in the jaw because he talked shit about your mother?”

“Yeah,” I say.

“Remember how you said even if it
was
true, even if she did do the things he accused her of, that he had no right to talk about her?”

I nod. “I remember.”

“Well, let me say it again: Fuck you.”

She winds up her hand, and she honest to God slaps me right in the jaw. It’s a loud crack, and there’s a moment when everybody on the street stops, as if they’re in a video that’s been paused, before they carry on, trying not to look at us.

“I hate that you can’t take this as seriously as me,” Cassie tells me. “I hate that I like you, and have no control over it.”

She takes a deep, shuddering breath. The skin on my face tingles.

“And I can’t wait for this shitty family vacation to be over, and for you to go back home, so I’ll never have to deal with you, with any of this, again.”

She turns around and walks back into the hotel, shoulders drooped.

I walk off into the street without looking back.

I flick my butt, and light up another cigarette.