14. Remi
fourteen
Remi
Iwas pissed off when I woke up and I didn’t even know why yet.
My eyes opened to the purple and blue glow of my setup in the corner, everything exactly where I’d left it. Nothing was wrong or different, but my skin felt too tight and my chest wouldn’t loosen.
It was him.
It had to be him.
The fact that he’d sat across from me at dinner knowing he’d watched every second of me. RemiRose, DeadGirlAFK, all of it. He sat there with that smirk knowing and not saying shit until he decided to blow it all up.
I threw the covers off and headed for the shower, hoping hot water would help.
I stood under the spray with my eyes closed, letting the heat soak into my skin, and all I could think about was him.
Ryan.
Rio.
Whatever the fuck his name was supposed to be to me now.
His hands were on me Saturday night, wrapped around my throat while he fucked me. He looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered, and my stupid ass fell for it.
Whole time he’d known who I was, that I was Richard’s stepdaughter. He’d known we were about to become family, and he’d still taken me home, put his hands on me, and made me come so hard I couldn’t think straight.
The shitty thing is that was the best sex I’d had in a long time. Which makes me hate myself even more because, what the actual fuck?
I pressed my forehead against the tile and tried to breathe through the anger building in my chest.
He’d played me.
I stayed in the shower until the water started to run cold, then got out and dried off. I got dressed in black leggings and an oversized hoodie, pulled my hair into a messy bun and didn’t bother with makeup.
I needed to do something normal or something that made sense, so I went over to my setup and turned everything on.
The monitors lit up and the LEDs shifted through their cycle. My chair was exactly where I’d left it, my headset hanging on its hook, and my keyboard waiting.
This was mine.
The space, my room, this entire third floor that I’d been living in, built and funded myself.
Rio couldn’t touch this.
I logged into Discord and checked my notifications. I had a few messages from regulars in my community, someone asking when I’d stream next, and someone else sharing a meme about getting tunneled by killers three games in a row.
I smiled despite myself and typed back a response. Then I opened Dead by Daylight and queued into a match.
The lobby loaded with three other survivors, a Meg, a Claudette, and a Dwight who was already crouching in the corner like that would help him survive.
No Cold_Saint.
Thank fucking fuck.
The match started and I focused on the gens, loops, pallets, and vaults. The things I could control.
I played for an hour, maybe more. Won some, lost some, got camped by a Bubba who clearly had nothing better to do with his Monday morning.
The chat was good and people were talking, joking, and asking questions.
I answered when I could, kept the energy light, and kept myself distracted.
I pulled my headset off and sat there for a minute, staring at my monitors, dreading what was waiting for me on the first floor.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t hide in my room forever.
The second I hit the staircase, I heard it.
Voices, movement and the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor which meant only one thing.
Rio was actually moving in.
I made it to the first floor and stopped.
The front door was propped open, and boxes were stacked in the entryway.
Richard was carrying something that looked like a dresser with Vivienne directing him toward the hallway.
Rio was standing in the middle of it all with his hands on his hips, looking completely at ease like he’d been living here his entire life.
He saw me immediately and his eyes flicked up, met mine, and he smiled. Not a smirk, not even a smug look, just a normal smile.
Like we were fucking normal.
I wanted to throw something at his head.
“Remi!” Vivienne called out, turning toward me with a bright smile. “Good morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?”
“Yeah,” I lied. “I slept great.”
“We’re just helping Rio get settled. He doesn’t have much, but we want to make sure he’s comfortable.”
“That’s great,” I said, forcing my voice to stay even. “I’m so happy for him.”
Rio’s smile widened just slightly, and I wanted to scream. Or bash my head into the wall. Which, who knows, I might still do it.
Richard came back through the hallway, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Remi, you’re up. Want to help us bring in the rest of the boxes?”
“Sure,” I said, because what else was I supposed to say? ‘Turns out I fucked your son, so no, I won’t be doing that.’
I followed Richard outside to where Rio’s car was parked in the driveway with his trunk open a few more boxes stacked inside. Right on schedule, Rio came out behind me.
“Thanks for helping,” he said, his voice low enough that only I could hear.
I didn’t look at him. “I’m not doing it for you.”
“Oh, I know.”
I grabbed a box and carried it inside without another word and the next two hours were a special kind of torture.
Rio moved through the house like he’d been here a hundred times before.
He knew where things went, how to talk to Richard, how to charm Vivienne, and how to make everything look easy and natural.
I fucking hated him for it.
Every time we passed each other in the hallway, every time we ended up in the same room, the tension was so thick I could barely breathe.
He’d look at me and I would look away. He’d say something to Richard, and I would bite my tongue. He’d smile at Vivienne and I would leave the room. By noon, I was ready to lose my damn mind.
I went back upstairs to my room and closed the door, sat on my bed and stared at the ceiling.
I can’t even say how long I sat there and tried to figure out how the hell I was supposed to live in the same house as him.
He knew everything, has seen everything and now he was here, in my space, in my home, and there was nothing I could do about it.
So, I did the only thing I could think of and grabbed my phone to call Lucy.
She picked up on the second ring. “Hey, babe. What’s up?”
“I need you to tell me there’s a party tonight.”
“It’s… Monday.”
“I don’t care. There has to be something. Anything, Lucy. I need to get out of this house.”
There was a pause. “What happened?”
“Rio moved in. You know, Richard’s son that I was telling you about? But that’s not all. Guess what? Rio is Ryan. Ryan is who I went on a date with. Please get me out of this fucking house.”
“Oh shit. Ryan is Rio?”
“Yep.”
“And he’s living there now?”
“Yeah, which I’m sure was planned because none of this makes sense, I just can’t prove it.”
“Fuck, babe. Jesus, okay. Let me make some calls. I’ll find something and come get you tonight.”
“Thank you.”
“Give me an hour. I’ll text you.”
She hung up and I lay back on my bed, staring at my phone, and waiting.
An hour later, my phone buzzed, its Lucy.
Found one. Be ready at 11.
I exhaled for what felt like the first time all day.
You’re a lifesaver.
I know. Wear something hot.
I smiled despite everything and set my phone down.
I had an exit, a way out, and a few hours where I didn’t have to think about Rio or what he knew or what he’d done.
I just had to make it until eleven.
Dinner was awkward as hell.
Vivienne had insisted on cooking something nice to celebrate Rio being home.
Richard was in a good mood and talking more than usual, asking Rio questions about his job and his apartment and his plans.
Rio answered everything smoothly, almost too smoothly, like he’d been preparing for this his entire life.
I just sat across from him and said as little as possible. Every time he looked at me, I looked at my plate and every time he said my name, I answered in one word.
Vivienne noticed, because she kept glancing between us, her smile a little too bright and her questions a little too pointed, but she didn’t say anything.
By eight-thirty, dinner was over and Richard and Vivienne went to the living room while Rio disappeared into the guest suite, so I went back upstairs and locked my door.
I set an alarm for ten-thirty in case I tried to doze off while I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, and counting down the minutes.
At ten-thirty, I got up and changed into my black dress and grabbed my leather jacket. I did my makeup dark with smoky eyes, red lips, and let my hair fall down in loose waves. At ten-fifty, I grabbed my heels and opened my door as quietly as possible, and the house was completely silent.
I crept down the stairs, one step at a time, holding my breath every time the floor creaked. I made it to the first floor, past the living room, and past the guest suite where Rio was staying. I opened the front door, slipped outside, and closed it behind me without a sound.
Lucy’s car was waiting at the curb, headlights off and I ran across the lawn in my socks, heels still in my hand, and yanked the passenger door open.
“Go,” I said, climbing in.
Lucy didn’t ask questions, just put the car in drive and pulled away from the house.
I put my heels on, rolled down the window, and let the night air hit my face.
For the first time all day, my smile was genuine.