His eyes lift once more, and something crackles between us. Hate? It has to be because it can’t possibly be anything else. This guy is an asshole of epic proportions.
Who does he think he is standing here demanding my car keys as if he owns the place?
We’ve lived in this house for almost four years, not once has he ever made the effort to come and visit, to spend time with his dad and to meet his new family.
I can’t really say I’m all that disappointed if this is the kind of person he is. No wonder Stephen has never put much effort into visiting his only child.
“Do you mind, I’ve got shit to be doing that doesn’t involve hanging out in the hallway with you.”
I swallow down my nerves when his hands land on either side of my head, effectively caging me in.
“Give me your keys and you can continue with your pathetic little life.”
“You’re an ass,” I spit, ducking under his arm and racing around him.
I might have escaped, but the second he spins and notices that I look straight to my purse, he moves.
We both lunge for it at the same time, but seeing as he’s not a midget, he beats me to it.
“Ashton,” I warn, my voice low.
He glances at me for a beat before opening it up and rummaging around.
I stand with my hands on my hips, feeling totally violated. I would say something, but I feel at this point it would probably fall on deaf ears. Ashton clearly gives zero fucks about me, or anything, it seems, so long as he gets his way.
The sooner he fucks back off to his mom in Seattle, the better.
With a wide smile that exposes a perfectly straight set of white teeth—asshole—he waves my keys in the air.
“See now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“You’re a dick.”
“I’ve been called worse, little one. I’m outta here.”
“Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.”
He leaves with the sound of his amused chuckle filling the hallway.
“Argh,” I scream the second I know he’s out of earshot.
For years I’ve wanted to meet my stepbrother. Now I’m wondering why I even spared him a thought.
Ashton Fury is a douchebag, and I think Stephen might just be better off without him.
He’s only staying a few days. Only a few days, I tell myself as I pick up my discarded purse and head for the kitchen.
3
Ashton
I fucking hate social media. All the dickheads posting random shit about their lives that no one else really gives a crap about. Although they like each post just so they look like they care.
Bullshit. All of it.
Having said that though, it’s the perfect place to find exactly what I need.
As I put the address into the GPS, I half expect her to come running out of the house to attempt to drag me out of her car. But when I glance up at the front door, I find it closed as I left it.
I had no idea what to expect from my stepsister. All I knew was her name and age. Obviously, I had hopes that she might not be a complete loser, but I could have only wished for the hot little body that emerged from this very car earlier.
I like her feisty side. If I didn’t hate her, I might think it was cute.
There’s only one thing I feel toward my stepsister. Indignation.
She’s lived the perfect little life here with my father and her whore of a mother, all the while Mom and I were forgotten.
My knuckles turn white, splitting once more with the force of my grip on the wheel as I back out of the driveway.
The address I was given online seems to be right on the other side of town. Good thing she’s got a full tank of gas. It would have seriously pissed me off if I had to spend the little money I have on gas instead of something to help me get through the next few days.
The guy I’d arranged to meet was waiting for me in the deserted parking lot he’d directed me to, and after little fuss, I head back toward the house I don’t want to be in with exactly what I need in my back pocket.
There are still no other cars in the driveway, not that I’m surprised. Dad said that they’d be gone most of the night. Some bullshit about going to a local golf club or something. I can’t say I was really listening. I took the money he offered, nodded when he suggested I order takeout, and turned my back on him.
I didn’t want him under any illusion that I actually wanted to be here. That I came because I thought his suggestion was a good idea. Fucking hardly. If I thought coming to visit would be fun then I would have done it years ago.
All I was doing was trying to make life easier for Mom. If me being away for a while gave her the space to breathe, then I’d almost willingly do it.
Anything for her. The woman who’s given her entire life to look after me, to give me everything I need. It’s not like the asshole in this house has helped since the day he walked away and left us high and dry.
I stare up at the house, wondering if she’s heard me return and is waiting with a kitchen knife in hand. Or is she going to be hiding? Oddly, that thought is more appealing.
I got to her earlier, I know I did. I almost want to see her try to ignore me, trying to pretend that I’m not here, not driving her crazy. It’ll make this game so much more entertaining for me.
I have every intention of this being my
