Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
“AWFUL BEAST” BY URSINE VULPINE
CHASE
My eyes feel gritty as we pull up to the house, Blade driving and Thorn in the back.
“Fuck, I just want to sleep for a week,” Thorn grumbles as Blade parks in front of the doors. They open, Jerry striding down the steps, a big smile on his face.
“At least someone is happy to see us,” I state, brushing down the wrinkles in my shirt as I open the door and get out.
“Master Chase, welcome home,” Jerry greets, even though it’s after midnight.
Our flight from Europe, where we were attending a big Pharma conference, was late, even though we were using the private jet.
Something to do with having to wait for space to take off, which is unacceptable in my opinion, and I’ll be chasing it up come Monday.
“Hey, Jerr,” Thorn answers, pulling the man into a hug. Jerry returns it, having been with us forever and being much more of a father than our actual father. None of us would dare to offer the great Richard Banks a hug. I shudder at the thought.
“Master Thorn, I hope you had a good trip?” Jerry asks, attempting to take Thorn’s bag, but as usual, none of us would allow him to carry our stuff. He’s pushing sixty, and we’re more than capable.
“It was boring as fuck,” my brother replies honestly, and Blade huffs a laugh, coming around from the truck with his and my bags in his hand. I take mine with a nod of thanks, then follow him as he heads up the stone steps and into the house.
Thorn doesn’t pretend that he would choose the path our father has laid out before us, that of taking over Banks Industries.
Thorn’s talents lie in things that are more creative, and he finds most of what we do stifling and dull.
My heart hurts for him. I wish he could just do what he’d like, wish we all could.
Though Blade and I enjoy our work with the company, both of us chose our Harvard courses to help us learn what we need to.
Blade chose Biomedical Engineering, precise and technical, just like he is.
He’s focused on understanding the science behind diseases and treatments, and I know that what happened with Mom has made him want to find new and better ways to treat cancer.
I’m going down the Business Administration and Finance route, preparing to eventually take over the day-to-day running of our family company. I’ve been taking extra courses to graduate early and am already involved in the company’s board meetings.
Thorn, on the other hand, is studying Psychology with a double major in Art. Father allows it on the provision that he will be joining the company once we all graduate, probably in the marketing department where at least his artistic skills can be put to use. Father’s words, not mine.
“Um, Master Chase?” Jerry’s voice comes from behind me, his tone hesitant and enough to give me pause. I turn around at the top of the stairs, the early summer breeze warm despite the hour.
“Yes, Jerry?” The poor man’s bushy brows lower, almost hiding his eyes completely. “It can’t be that bad, surely?”
“Well, you know that your new stepmother and her daughter moved in last week?” My teeth grind at the reminder of my father’s elopement with a woman whom he’d only known for six months.
A woman who is, without question, a gold digger and is only interested in his money, her daughter too, I bet.
“Well, you see, Mr. Banks hasn’t quite sorted her room yet, so he said she could take yours for the time being. ”
I swallow hard as my nostrils flare.
My room is my sanctuary. The place where I can let go of all the expectations and just be me, and now even that’s gone.
I give him a sharp nod, my body tense as I run through my options.
Thorn slings an arm across my shoulders. “Don’t worry, bro, I got you. You can bunk with me. I’ll even let you be big spoon.”
“Fuck off.” My lips betray my words by lifting in a small smile.
“Oh, ho! Mr. Future CEO swore! Quick, Jerr, make sure the sky doesn’t fall down,” Thorn jokes, darting out of the way as I go to punch his arm.
“Come on, you two,” Blade states, speaking in that low, controlled tone he has that rarely changes in volume unless he’s upset. Even then, he mostly gets quieter, like the calm before the storm. “Let’s head up and let Jerry get some sleep.”
“Night, Jerr,” Thorn says, placing a kiss on the old man’s cheek before jogging up the stairs.
I shake my head. “Good night, Jerry.”
“Good night, Master Thorn, Master Chase,” Jerry replies as I turn to head up after my wayward brother.
The door to his room is open, and I pause before it, trying to make sense of the riot of colors and the sheer volume of stuff he has in here.
It hurts my brain, and I set my bag down just inside the door, turning to head into my room to grab some clean clothes.
If our new stepsister is asleep, well, she’ll just have to deal with me coming in. It’s my room.
My heart beats quickly as I take hold of the door handle, my body ignoring my mind, which tells me to just open the damn thing and grab my stuff. I turn the knob slowly, making sure not to make any more noise than necessary as I open the door.
The lamp by the bed is on, highlighting our new stepsister’s face perfectly.
I come to a standstill, my eyes drinking in the sight of the angel who is currently fast asleep in my bed, the covers tucked up to her chin, one of my fluffy blankets wrapped around her too.
Short blonde curls run riot around her head, framing a delicate face like a halo.
Her slightly darker lashes kiss her pale cheek, one hand tucked under her face as she sleeps, unaware that she’s being watched.
I take a deep inhale, her scent of delicate vanilla with hints of jasmine filling my nose. It’s subtly sweet but not cloying. There’s an underlying clean, slightly clinical note that I can’t quite place.
“Stepsis is damn pretty,” Thorn whispers from beside me, but I don’t jump at his sudden appearance. I’ve trained myself not to flinch at surprises. To be unflappable at all times.
“Doesn’t matter,” Blade rumbles from behind us, coming up on my other side. “She’s still a money grabbing bitch, just like her mother.”
I look back at our new stepsister, taking in the innocence that appears to be written all over her face. I guess looks can be deceiving, so it really doesn’t matter. Reaching for the doorknob again, I grasp it and quietly shut the door. I’ll just grab something of Thorn’s in the morning.
“Let’s get some sleep,” I suggest quietly, some part of me not wanting to wake her even though the door is shut. “Then we can make proper introductions in the morning.”
We head back down the hall, my room being the last bedroom in this part of the house. There’s only the den and Thorn’s studio down this hall, and I wonder which one we will have to sacrifice for our new family member.
Regardless, it will be the only concession she’ll get.
I agree with Blade. It doesn’t matter if she looks like an angel; she’s only after one thing, and nothing says we need to make her life easier.
In fact, I think we should make her regret the day her mother decided to trap our father.
He may not be the best, but he’s still family, and we look out for each other.
We’re under more of a microscope with Lorelei as she’s never far from Father, but by the sounds of it, he’s not that concerned by Lorelei’s daughter.
With various ideas swirling around inside my head, I come up with a plan of action as I get ready for bed. I’ll tell the others in the morning, but there’s a small smile on my face as I think about all the ways we will make Luna Wilder pay for taking what doesn’t belong to her.
“CONTROL” BY ZOE WEES
LUNA
A week after moving in, I wake early, a curse that befell me from my last course of treatment.
In some ways, it’s nice, waking with the dawn.
At other times, like now, as we head into summer and dawn is pretty fucking early, it’s a pain.
Especially on the days that insomnia will hit, and you can bet it will.
Not to mention, my energy window will be reduced to a four-hour slot between eleven am and three pm if my previous experience is anything to go by.
Just another fun fuck you from good old Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.
Swinging my legs out of the bed, I let my toes nestle in the thick carpet.
Today is not only the day that I finally get to meet my new stepbrothers, but I also get my surgically implanted subclavian port, which will help deliver the chemo directly into a central vein.
It’s not the most pleasant feeling, though I guess knowing what it feels like and what lies ahead makes it a little easier this time around.
“Right, Luna May. Time to put our big girl panties on and take this shit one step at a time. Breakfast first.”
Throwing on one of my favorite off-the-shoulder, linen blend jumpers and some cotton shorts, I head down to the kitchen in search of food. Might as well enjoy it before my tastebuds change, which they will. There’s nothing like having your favorite food suddenly taste like ass to fuck up your day.
I pause when I enter the dining room, seeing four places set where usually it’s just mine.
Mom and Richard have clearly been in their honeymoon period—gag—and often don’t emerge until noon.
Though hopefully today, Mom has remembered my appointment.
I’ve not seen her much this past week to remind her.
Heading to my usual spot, I pass by what looks like a bowl of porridge.
In fact, glancing around, I see three bowls of porridge in addition to my covered plate.
Going over to the first bowl, I take a deep inhale, and the smell of creamy oats has my mouth salivating.
I haven’t had porridge in years, and before I even question the impulse, I dip my finger in, then pull it back with a yelp.
“Too damn hot. Who eats this lava?” I question, sucking my finger as I go over to the next bowl.
Shrugging, figuring I’ve already committed the sin of touching someone else’s food, I dip my finger in, and my face scrunches at the cold.
“What the fuck kind of person eats cold porridge?” Shaking my head, I walk around to the other side of the table, the place next to mine.
Next to this bowl is a glass jar, and my eyes widen when I read the label.
“All hail the god of food, the mighty Nutella,” I whisper as I cautiously dip my finger into the Nutella first and then this bowl.
I’m already a heathen, why not cement my crime?
My eyes flutter closed when I bring my finger to my lips, a moan escaping me. Just fucking right.
“Busted, pretty stepsis,” a low voice whispers behind me, and I jump about four feet into the air, a sound like a startled cat leaving me.
“Jesus, fuck! You scared the shit out of me,” I hiss as I face the mystery man who just gave me the fright of my life.
My heart, which is beating way too fast, gives an uneven jump as my eyes trace his features.
His posture is relaxed, and he’s leaning on the wall behind us like he’s not got a care in the world.
His green eyes are bright, a vibrant color that is hard to describe but makes me feel like he finds amusement in most situations.
Thick brown hair, which is in a surfer style and looks tousled, like he’s just rolled out of bed, falls over his forehead, almost covering one eye.
He’s wearing a vest in neon colors that are actually kinda hurting my eyes, bright coral colored shorts that should clash but somehow don’t, and red high-tops.
His outfit showcases defined muscles that are covered in a riot of color, one design blending seamlessly into the next until it’s hard to see where one starts and the other ends.
They’re stunning, and my fingers itch to trace them, study them.
My gaze snaps back to his when he makes a small cough sound, finding his plush lips lifted in a smile. Holy fuck, there are dimples.
“If you took a picture, Goldie, it would last longer,” he teases, and I feel my cheeks heat, hating that because of how pale I am, he’ll see my blush instantly.
His smile grows wider as he takes the few steps that separate us, clearly ignoring that little thing called personal space.
Though I guess to be fair, I just stuck my finger in his porridge, so I’m in no position to criticize.
I take a deep inhale, his amber and dark rum scent making me think of the too soft bed, the room full of color and knickknacks.
“Hi,” I squeak, inwardly cursing the awkward bitch that I am. “I’m Luna.”
“Oh, I know you are, pretty stepsis,” he purrs, his voice low, and I really wish it wasn’t doing the things to me it is. I blame the cancer; it’s clearly messed with my mind if I’m lusting after one of my new stepbrothers. “Name is Thorn. Do you like taking what’s not yours?”