Sins of the Stepbrothers Page 2

  It gave her the chance to live a comfortable, luxurious lifestyle.

  And it left us rotting in this hellhole.

  So maybe now you will understand why I am the way I am. Why I groan and sigh, why I never have fun. I’m fighting a battle of my own, because I will get that money back. I will get my father’s life’s work. And I will protect my brother, and take care of him.

  If I have to take down Emme to do that, so be it.

  Chapter 5

  When I come home that evening, Aiden hasn’t moved an inch from his spot in front of the TV. I wonder if he’s even done something or spent the entire day playing video games.

  “Did you bring food?” he asks without looking at me, too busy hunting down some bad guy or other on the TV screen. “I’m hungry,” he adds, in case I didn’t know.

  I don’t bother responding, because I’m tired, and I’ve had enough. Instead, I put my paper bag on the counter and produce two bottles of tequila.

  Finally, Aiden turns of his game and comes into the kitchen, curiously picking up a bottle.

  “It’s not even the good stuff,” he complains.

  “Yeah, we can’t afford the good stuff, unless you want to chip in,” I snap.

  He looks taken aback and I’m sorry immediately. “What’s with you?” he wonders out loud.

  I sigh. “I saw Emme today,” I say softly, and I can see his eyes dim with the mere mention of her name.

  It’s always been Aiden and Emme. They were so close. I know this is the hardest for him.

  “Again?” He looks suspicious and jealous for a split second, but then the look is gone. “So?” he asks, pretending not to care, opening that tequila and takin a swig straight from the bottle.

  I shrug. “She misses us … well, you more than me, I’m sure.”

  “Don’t care,” he says, though we both know he does. She’s his best friend, and it’s killing him that they’re not in contact anymore. And it hurts more because she wants to be, and he thinks he’d be betraying me if he did something about it.

  “I need to get drunk tonight,” I say to no one in particular and I uncap my own bottle of tequila.

  “I share your sentiment,” Aiden murmurs in my general direction and checks the paper bag again. “No lemons? Or salt?”

  “I think today is a day for straight up tequila,” I admit miserably, and he seems to agree.

  So we settle on the couch with our bottles and watch some nineties movie. It almost feels like everything’s okay if I ignore the pangs of pain in my chest.

  ***

  “We need to … like, we need a plan,” Aiden slurs and I look at him through the haze over my eyes. It’s like staring at a mirror, and though I’ve gotten used to it, it’s a little strange looking at your reflection when you’re as drunk as I am right now.

  “Why?” I wonder.

  He takes a swig out of his bottle, spilling a bit on the couch, but I’m too drunk to care. Plus, I don’t think I can formulate a coherent sentence, anyhow. “We need to get it back,” he says. “And Emme. I want Emme back.”

  I don’t want you to have Emme back, my mind says. I want Emme for myself.

  “So what’s the plan?” I ask instead, trying hard to ignore the nagging voice in my head.

  He grins at me and sets the empty bottle down. We’re going to be so hung-over, it won’t even be funny. “That’s where you come in, brother,” he says cheerfully. We’re about twenty minutes away from him breaking down and twenty-five minutes away from me barfing down the toilet. “You’re the planner,” Aiden reminds me. “I’m the man of action. You think of something, I take care of it.”

  It hurts when he says that, because it’s a part of The Rule of Three.

  It’s something we came up with when we were kids, and it included me – the planner, Aiden – the man of action, and Emme – the black sheep, because she always took the blame for whatever shenanigan we got into. She was the sweet, innocent looking one, and neither of our parents really blamed her for anything. So it worked out perfectly.

  “It’s The Rule of Three,” I say miserably. “We’re missing one person.”

  “Whatever,” Aiden says angrily. “I can think of a snappy new name!”

  I look at him doubtfully.

  “A pair of brothers,” he offers lamely. “The terrible twosome.”

  “Do we really need a name?” I ask and roll my eyes.

  But he’s already so into in he’s jumped up on the couch. “I’ve got it!” he shouts and I shush him quickly, because I really don’t want the neighbors to come banging on our door and discover us drunk at 8.30 p.m.

  “Give it to me,” I say, faking enthusiasm.

  Aiden gets that misty look in his eyes as he stares off into the distance, doing a hand gesture like a magician or illusionist. “The reign of two,” he says mysteriously.

  Damn, it’s not so bad.

  “We’re not superheroes, you know,” I remind him as he jumps back down on the couch, grinning excitedly. “We don’t really need a name.”

  “Yeah, but we have one now,” Aiden reminds me patiently like I’m the childish one, so I just sigh. “Your turn now,” he says and I look at him questioningly. “We need a plan?” he reminds me.

  I sit there stewing in my own drunkenness, and I wonder what I should tell him. He’s had enough of It’s-gonna-be-okays and We’ll-sort-it-outs. So instead, I opt for something else. And the words just keep coming when I open my mouth.

  “We need that money back,” I say and Aiden nods animatedly. “It’s our Dad’s company, too, and she has no right to get all of it. And you miss her, but you want the money more, right?”

  He looks thoughtful for a moment, and I don’t let him answer.

  Why?

  Maybe it’s because I’m afraid he’ll choose her over the money.

  Over me.

  “There’s no way we can get it,” I hurry before he can answer. “Unless …”

  I’ve got his attention straight away and his eyes shoot up to look at me. “Unless what?” he asks curiously, and I know this is the make it or break it moment.

  He might agree with my plan, if I present it in the right way. Or he might call me crazy, depending on how greedy he actually is.

  And I don’t know what I want him to say.

  The truth is, I’m not even sure whether I’m doing this for the money or just for Emme.

  “There’s something we could do,” I say mysteriously and Aiden edges closer on the couch, listening intently. I know I’ve got him now, and the words come rushing out. It’s done.

  “There’s no way we are getting that money without doing something bad,” I explain.

  “I’m not gonna kill Emme, Blane,” Aiden interrupts immediately and I feel shocked that he even thought I would think of something like that. I tell him as much and he backs off immediately, asking me to tell him more. I don’t hesitate for a second, the plan unveiling in my head as I speak despite my current hazy mind.

  “We’re not blood relatives,” I remind him, trying to ease him into the idea gently. “She’s not related to us at all, right?” I ask him, and he shakes his head, so that encourages me to go on.

  “What if,” I ask, building the tension before I finally pose the big question. “What if one of us married her?”

  Aiden looks revolted and like he’s about to speak up, but I hurry up with the explanation. This moment is crucial.

  “What if one of us married her, and divorced her in a few months’ time? Can you imagine how much money we could get? She would be heartbroken; it would be easy to take it away. And then we would split it between the two of us …”

  Aiden looks at me worriedly. “I don’t want to hurt her,” he says quietly.

  Oh, brother, I want to do many, many things to Emme, but hurting her is not in the top 5.

  “We’ll explain it to her,” I try to calm him down. “And we’ll leave her with enough money to take care of herself, won’t we? We can all go ba
ck to being friends, because the money issue won’t be there anymore, will it?”

  Aiden thinks it true and I imagine the cogs in his brain turning as my heart thumps in my chest, waiting for his answer. This could be it, I think. I could do this, and marry her – and get over my obsession. I’m sure once I have her, it will pass. And all that money …

  “Okay,” Aiden says softly and immediately, my smile grows wide as I slap his back. “I’ll do it.”

  “There it is,” I say proudly and we both get up, hugging each other awkwardly and laughing nervous smiles as we realize we can’t really stand up properly with all the alcohol in our bodies.

  We’re kind of afraid of looking at each other, I think, because Aiden refuses to meet my eye. But he looks weirdly happy, excited. I knew he was struggling with less money to play with, but I didn’t think he’d be this willing.

  And when I think of Emme … Sweet, long legged Emme, and finally having a reason to make her mine … It makes it all worth it if it means I get to taste that full mouth of hers.

  “When do I start?” Aiden asks after a minute or so passes, and I look at him to see him grinning. That’s the spirit, brother, I think proudly. I’m about to explain his role in the game – making sure Emme trusts me, convincing her I’m a good guy – when he speaks up again.

  “You know, I did always have a little crush on Emme. I know, it’s weird … We were always so close. But this is the perfect chance to get it out of my system.” He gives me a wicked smile. “I wonder if she’s a virgin.”

  My blood freezes in my veins and all my hairs stand up on end.

  What

  Have

  I

  Done?

  Chapter 6

  I’ve completely messed up.

  As I wake up with a roaring hangover and run to throw up in the kitchen sink, my mind pounds with yesterday’s conversation.

  After Aiden misunderstood me, I made the worst possible move, which I’m only realizing now. I threw up and went to sleep, and I never once told him I wanted to be the one who married Emme.

  Thinking about it now as I wash my face and mouth, I realize Aiden has a point. He’s the one who was always closer to Emme; he’s her best friend, her confidant. She trusts him. Sure, she cares about me too, but she and Aiden … it just makes more sense.

  But my goddamn jealous mind won’t take it.

  My plan.

  My girl.

  Our money.

  Surely if he gets those dollars he’ll comply with my terms? He has to understand. Has to. Because I’m not giving Emme up.

  I walk back into the living room, where Aiden is stretched out on the couch.

  “I’m dying,” he informs me, and despite all the worries, I smile. He has always had a flair for the dramatic. Might be because he’s an artist.

  I bring him a tall glass of water and he drinks it in big gulps, finally sitting up and groaning all the while. “So, last night,” he says tiredly.

  My heartbeat fastens and I prepare myself to speak up.

  “We’re never drinking that shit tequila again,” Aiden grimaces and I laugh nervously. Is it possible that he has completely forgotten about our conversation? We were pretty hammered.

  Aiden doesn’t bring up the plan with a single word. He doesn’t even mention Emme.

  I’m completely confused, but figure it’s best to keep my mouth shut. When I go off to work, I’m feeling nervous and relieved at the same time. I say goodbye to Aiden, and make him promise me he’ll go to class – even though we both know it’s not happening with that hangover.

  “Get sober soon!” I yell on my way out, and am accompanied by Aiden’s laugh as I close the door. A smile appears on my face as I take the stairs to the lobby.

  Did I just get away with this? I wonder.

  ***

  Work goes as work usually does, and the hours pass slowly. But finally, it’s time for me to go home, and because I’m feeling extra grateful that Aiden doesn’t seem to remember a thing from yesterday’s drunken planning, I decide to grab a few treats at the supermarket on our street.

  I even throw in some brie cheese, which used to be Aiden’s favorite. It may not be the stuff we were used to – and the smell makes my stomach roll over – but I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.

  I take the stairs two at a time and my usual worried smirk is replaced by a smile today. It will all be okay. I’ll explain the plan again, he’ll understand, and I’ll have her. I produce my keys out of my pocket and fumble with them, trying to get the door open. Because that’s what this has been about all along … Sweet, innocent …

  Emme.

  Standing in front of me, opening the door for me – to my own apartment. Wearing Aiden’s hoodie. I clench the paper bag in my hands and I know in that moment I had it all wrong.

  He remembers everything.

  He acted on it, too, while I was busy at work, earning money for the both of us.

  And she’s here now.

  “Hi,” Emme says softly, her doe eyes big and trusting.

  Mine, I growl in my mind.

  Chapter 7

  I walk in like I’m in a trance and when Aiden catches my eye, he winks at me.

  He winks at me.

  I’m about to strangle him, but in the next second, I’m enveloped in a bear hug by Emme. “I missed you so much,” she whispers in my ear.

  I have to restrain myself so I don’t hug her back and my hands form fists at my sides. I can feel her jutting hipbones poking me through her jeans; she’s pressed so close to me. All I want to do is take her in my arms, but I know I couldn’t stop there …

  “What is she doing here?” I ask Aiden, stepping out of Emme’s touch and ignoring the hurt which is coming off her body like a fragrance.

  “I thought it was about time we buried the hatchet,” Aiden says cheerfully and brings a bowl of salad to the kitchen table. I see that it’s already set with two plates and there’s sliced baguette as well as some charcuterie. I wonder who paid for that, I think bitterly. “It’s been too long since we had Emme over, don’t you think?” Aiden teases.

  Oh, so she’s Emme now, when before, he always called her little sis. I hate his guts right now, and I know I’m being unfair but I want to grab her and carry her into my room, do all the things I’ve dreamed about to her. Forget Aiden. She belongs to me.

  “Am I allowed to eat here?” I ask viciously instead of responding to my brother’s words, nodding towards the two places he’s set. “Or should I leave?” Somehow I don’t feel welcome in my apartment.

  “Yes, please – stay,” Emme jumps in cheerfully and I turn around to look at her. She’s acting like she owns the place and it bothers me, because it’s the one thing I paid for myself. I’m the one who pays the rent here, and her dirty money will do her no good, no matter how good those jeans look on her. And I’m trying not to look.

  “Are you staying?” I ask her angrily and she flinches a little.

  “Aiden invited me for lunch,” she says softly, but then she raises her chin up. “I didn’t know we needed your permission.”

  Well, that’s new.

  Emme is always quiet, obeying everything we say. But now she’s standing up for herself?

  “It’s my place, so you do, yes,” I reply coldly and her eyes burn with a quiet fire I’ve never seen before. And I’ll be damned if it doesn’t turn me on even more than her usual sweet and submissive personality.

  She looks taken aback for a second, but I’m not regretting this in the slightest. She doesn’t belong here, not in her designer heels, with her handbag that cost more than our rent does.

  “Ignore him, Emme,” Aiden tells her cheerfully. “He’s being an ass. Why don’t you sit down? I’m sure we can have a nice time without Blane, too – his loss, right?”

  He’s shooting me daggers with his eyes across his shoulder as he sits Emme down, and I feel so angry I could slap him right there, on the spot, even though I have no right whatsoever to do that.
It was your idea, I tell myself, just to punish myself further.

  “Enjoy your dinner in that case,” I say, the venom spilling out of my words. I turn on my heels and walk out of there, now knowing where I’m going, but needing to get away.

  Because it might have been my idea, but it should have been me sitting there with her. I should be the one she looks at adoringly with those huge eyes, not my brother. And I’m afraid that had I stayed there longer, I would be the one to get hurt, not Emme …

  Chapter 8

  I can’t really tell you what I do for the rest of the evening. I walk around the streets, pretending I don’t care, when my mind is swimming with ideas how to get her for myself. But I can’t, and I won’t. I’ve held back for so long, and I’ll just have to last longer.

  Time passes slowly and finally, I’ve had enough. It’s pitch black outside and the few streetlamps in our neighborhood and barely throwing any light on the pavement as I make my way back home. I stop under our apartment building, glancing up at the window that I know is in our kitchen.

  The light is on.

  I can just picture them, sitting at the table I paid for, eating food that Aiden made, my paper bag forgotten on the counter. I want to grind my teeth together with the pure rage I feel, but instead I settle for throwing a punch at the façade of our building.

  I cuss loudly and look at my bleeding knuckles, nursing my hand in my hands.

  “Well, that didn’t help much,” someone conveys my thoughts out loud and I turn towards the voice like it’s a siren calling to me. Of course, it’s Emme. She’s standing on the doorstep, Aiden’s hoodie peeking out of her pristine white coat.

  That alone lets me know she knows nothing about how hard life can be, because in my version, that coat would be shredded and dirty within days, and if hers get so much as a little stain on it, she can just replace it with another one. It’s an endless supply of white coats for her, and a loop of torn jackets for me.

  My imagery sucks, I tell myself in my head, before finally rushing into our building, ignoring Emme completely. But instead of backing off like I expected she would, Emme steps in my way and I brush against her.