Chapter 5
FIVE
Carter
As usual, it’s not bad enough that I’m being forced to do something, like living with a pair of strangers who have no business being here as far as I’m concerned. I have to take meals with them, too. At least Dad took Irene out for breakfast this morning, meaning I’m off the hook. Small miracles.
It’s not bad enough Elliana lives under this roof. I have to see her in Psych class, too, like there’s a spotlight on her, pointing out how different she is from normal people.
It’s not bad enough I have to drive her to and from school. No, she has to keep me waiting. We should’ve been out of here five minutes ago, but I’m still the only person down here, waiting by the front door. This is beyond stupid. She’s not satisfied with having a chauffeur? She has to make sure I know we move according to her schedule, too?
Fuck this. I am nobody’s servant. I’m not going to be late for class because of her. As it is, I’ll probably have to park a mile away from the liberal arts building where my first class is held. I’ll probably have to sprint across the lot to make it in time.
The girl is determined to insert herself into every aspect of my life and make it a little worse than it was before. She’ll learn today about being on time. She wants a favor? She follows my schedule. She doesn’t get to move into my house and dictate the rules.
It’s nice driving on my own. I mean, I’m just as silent now as I would be if she were in the passenger seat, but at least there isn’t that strange discomfort in the air. Like I’m Jack the Ripper and she wants to open the door in the middle of the road and jump out for fear of what I might do.
A growl stirs in my throat and fills the truck. What am I doing, thinking about her?
At the end of the block, I pull up a playlist and turn on something loud and bass-heavy. Soon, the whole truck is vibrating in a satisfying way. It’s almost as good for relieving my tension as a solid workout or a good fuck.
Great. Now I’m thinking about fucking while my stepsister is close to the front of my mind. Pretty fucking disgusting.
I wonder what would happen if a guy ever approached her for sex. Granted, he would have to be the most hard-up guy in existence—and probably blind—but I’m sure there’s somebody desperate enough. I doubt they would get too far; she would probably lie there like a corpse. I doubt she could even get up the courage to scream. Would she keep her lumpy sweater on the whole time?
I really need to stop thinking about this.
When the music cuts out all at once, the sudden difference shakes me out of my nauseating train of thought. A moment passes before my phone rings, hooked up to the truck’s Bluetooth. The word DAD flashes across the control panel on the dashboard.
A chill touches my skin before I answer. “You know you don’t like me talking on the phone while I’m driving,” I remind him, only half joking.
He’s not in the mood for banter. “You wanna tell me why I got a call from your stepsister, telling me she needs a ride to school?”
The little bitch.
“Good thing we were already on the way home,” he continues. “I’ll do it today because the girl needs to get to school somehow. But this is the last time I do you a favor.”
“How are you doing me a favor? I didn’t know it was my job to get her where she needs to be.”
“You are going to the same place. It’s the least you can do.”
“Then the least she can do is be ready on time and waiting for me when we need to leave,” I fire back. “I waited for her.”
“Did you? How long did you wait?”
“I didn’t have my stopwatch in hand, but it was at least five minutes.”
“Wow, five entire minutes?” He blows out a high-pitched whistle that sets my teeth on edge. “I hope the entire rest of your day hasn’t been thrown off schedule.”
“But—”
“I don’t want to hear it,” he almost barks in my ear when I try to defend myself. “You are going to stop acting like a petty child. You are going to be a functioning member of this family. And every day, you will make sure your stepsister gets to school and back again. Do you understand me? This is not a negotiation. This is your father telling you what you are going to do if you expect to continue living under this roof—and I don’t think it’s much to ask,” he adds.
I should never have answered my phone, especially not while I’m trying to drive without killing everyone in front of me. I can barely see straight through the fog of growing rage.
I can put up with a lot of shit. One thing I’ve never been able to take is being forced into something I don’t want to do. It’s bad enough I have to accept the gold digger and her freak offspring as members of my family—the idea makes me want to gag.
Now I have no choice but to fall in line if I want to stay in my own home. My home. Not Irene’s. Not Elliana’s.
“Is that all?” It’s only going to piss him off worse, but I can’t sit here and take this without making sure he knows how pissed I am. What the fuck is so special about her that I have to wait around until she decides it’s time for us to go to school? If he loves her so much, why doesn’t he buy her a car? Then I would only be forced to see her in Psych and around the table at home. I could almost deal with that. It’s this being forced bullshit that makes me grind my molars before slamming the heel of my hand against the horn when the car in front of me waits too long after the light turns green.
“You are on thin ice,” he warns before ending the call. Music floods the truck’s cab again, but it doesn’t ease my tension this time. Nothing could.
I practically had to bite my tongue off to keep from reminding him I’m not some punk he dragged in for an interrogation. Though it’s pretty fucking clear he wants to treat me like a stranger, that’s not who I am. Whether he likes it or not.
He finally has the family he always wanted. I was only a placeholder.
Instead of sprinting across campus like I thought I would on arrival, I’m marching, punishing the pavement with every footstep like that will do anything to change the shitstorm my life has become. I have no control over anything—or at least that’s how it feels. Being told what to do, where to go, how to behave.
I can’t even make the decision to leave the house when I need to without having my ass chewed for it.
I bet she couldn’t wait to call Dad for help. It didn’t hit me until now. She could’ve called me, but she called him. The little bitch.
Sure, it’s good that I don’t have to see her during class today—it looks like psych is the only one we share—but she’s never far from my thoughts. I can barely hear anything happening around me for the noise in my head, like somebody kicked a beehive. It fills my ears, and nothing I do will stop it. I try to breathe slower, remind myself there’s nothing I can’t handle.
Nothing’s even happening right now—she’s not in front of me, and I’m not interacting with her or anything like that.
It doesn’t matter.
She’s in my fucking head. Like a worm that burrowed its way inside my skull. A worm with giant glasses and a heavy sweater.
“All I’m saying is, it’s been way too long since we had a party.”
Easton jams an elbow into my ribs—I was only half paying attention, lost in the anger still simmering under the surface, just shy of boiling.
Rubbing my side, I have to snicker at him. “Be a little more obvious.”
“I wasn’t trying to be sneaky. I’m saying, let’s have a party.”
“You say that like you’d be the one throwing it,” I point out, making his brother laugh from the other side of the cafeteria table at lunch. “Seems to me I would be the one throwing the party, since I always throw the kind of parties you’re talking about. So the right thing to do would be asking if we could please throw one at my house.”
Preston folds his hands under his chin and bats his eyes. “Please, Carter. Can we have a party at your house this weekend since your parents are going away?”
My parents.
All of a sudden, the sandwich and chips in front of me don’t look as good as they did before.
“I don’t know if that’s good enough,” I decide instead of reminding him to watch his language. The words he uses. They are not my parents. Dad, sure, but not Irene.
Saying some shit like that would only make me look childish and get my balls busted endlessly.
“But remember how great it was?” Preston sits back in his chair with a dreamy sort of look on his face. “Like Roman-orgy levels of great. So many pairs of tits bouncing in my face. So much pussy, just waiting to make my acquaintance.”
I’m trying to be serious, but I can’t help the laugh that bursts out of me. “It was pretty legendary.”
“Let’s keep the legend alive,” Easton urges, wearing a smirk because he knows how this is going to end. “Let’s take advantage of this opportunity. It’s kind of our responsibility to give our friends a good time, isn’t it?”
“Again, acting like you have anything to do with it. It’s my ass if Dad finds out.”
Instead of laughing, they exchange a look. “Do you think she would tell?”
She . Nobody has to use a name. Why the fuck can’t she disappear? We can’t even make plans without having to consider the unwelcome guest in my home. “It’ll be fine. She’ll lock herself in her room the whole time.”
“You sure about that?” Easton asks. “Just because she doesn’t want to be part of it doesn’t mean she won’t bitch about it later.”
Of course, he’s right. The fact that she doesn’t want to be a part of it might be even more reason to complain and get my ass in trouble. I can see it now, the way she would put on her whole little terrified victim act, even though there’s literally nothing for her to be afraid of.
Or is there? She wants to be afraid? I’ll give her plenty of reasons to be afraid if she crosses me.
“Don’t worry,” I mutter. “I’ll make it work. And if she knows what’s good for her, she’ll stay far away.”
“Tiana!” Preston waves over the top of my head, looking past me. “Party this weekend at Carter’s! Friday night. You know what that means.”
Well, it’s official now.
Tiana practically licks her lips when I turn to see her with a group of her friends, whose eyes light up before they giggle and nudge each other knowingly. “We’ll be there,” she confirms, giving me a long look before continuing through the cafeteria.
She’s kind of a necessary evil, always hanging around, but she has hot friends, so she’s not all bad.
And by the end of the day, everybody at school is going to know where to be on Friday night. The more I think about it, the better the idea sounds. I can use a release, that much is for sure.
Just one thing stands in my way.
No matter how confident I am in front of my friends, it’s a different story by the time I’m behind the wheel with the freak next to me. I can add snitch to the list of names I’ve given her in my head—I’m still bitter over that fucking phone call from Dad.
And I waste no time telling her about it. “You know, you could have maybe called me to see why I left without you this morning. Or you could’ve called down the stairs to let me know you were running late.”
I don’t expect an answer. I know better already.
“Next time, if you’re running late, tell me so. It’s pretty fucking rude to leave somebody waiting for you and not say anything until you have no choice but to dime them out. Don’t do it again.”
The most I get is a soft snort. At least it’s a reaction. I know she’s alive over there—I’m sure as hell not looking at her if I can help it.
Might as well get to the point. There’s still plenty of time before we get home, and I want to have this settled when we do. “Listen. There’s gonna be a party at the house this weekend. Friday night, after the parents leave for their trip.”
What a surprise—the fact that she sits there silent, like she’s never heard of a party. Would I be surprised if that was true? “Don’t worry. Nobody expects you to come.”
Glancing her way, I notice how she stares straight ahead and holds her backpack a little closer to her chest, arms folded across it.
“In fact, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay in your room all night. Door locked,” I add. “Nobody wants you there. You would only ruin the mood.”
Is there a magic word I need to find to get through to her? What can I say to get a reaction? Because even though I don’t want to hear her voice ever, it’s damn unnerving to basically talk to myself.
“But here’s the most important part. Here’s where I need you to listen very carefully and do exactly as I say, or else I will make you regret it with every breath you take for the rest of your life.”
She only shifts a little in her seat, like she’s uncomfortable, but says nothing. Still.
“You will not say a word about this to my dad or your mom. Not a single word. You got it?”
When silence is all the answer I get, I snap, “I want to hear it. Do you understand?”
Still, the only thing I hear from her is breathing.
Until—
“And what would happen if I do tell them? What if I say no?”
So somebody decided to find their voice.
Of all the fucking times, she chooses now to push back? I’m so surprised, I don’t know what to say at first. I mean, the answer is obvious, but I can’t believe she would make me say it out loud. Or is this only a rhetorical question?
Maybe I should let her know how it feels to be ignored.
No, on second thought, she needs to hear this.
Once I’ve pulled into the driveway and parked next to Dad’s BMW, I engage the child locks on the doors—they can only be controlled from my door panel once I engage them.
“Do you wanna know what will happen?” I ask, unbuckling my seatbelt, and turning my body in the seat so I’m facing her. “That’s just fine. Let me tell you how it will be, and I’ll speak slowly to make sure you understand. You won’t say a word about this party to either of our parents unless you want me to make your loser life even more miserable in every possible way. I will make it my personal mission to make every day of your life worse than the one before it.”
“Do you doubt I could do it?” I ask, watching her closely, studying her.
The only thing that moves is her jaw, clenched so tight it trembles a little.
“Do you?” I snap, making her jump. It’s almost too satisfying, seeing her do that.
“No,” she whispers, staring at the house. “Can I go now?”
“Remember what I said.” Because really, it’s not like I’m dying to spend any more time with her. She’s out the door the second the locks are disengaged, almost running for the house.
If she knows what’s good for her, she’ll stay in her room all night. Let her think a little about what I said.
Let her imagine all the different ways I could make it a reality.