Snake (a Stepbrother Romance)(38)

I gave her a genuinely confused look. “What the hell are you on about?”

Monique’s eyes were pure evil as she locked them with mine. “I see the way you look at her, you sick man,” she snarled at me. “She’s your stepsister, for God’s sake! You’re disgusting.”

The accusation finally dawned upon me. She was talking about Mila. She had somehow caught on to us - maybe she didn’t know the whole thing, but she’d definitely seen me longingly gaze at my stepsister.

It was damn hard to resist outright staring at Mila, but goddamnit, I should have tried harder. Because once Monique sunk her teeth into this, we’d never get out alive.

“Silence, huh?” she asked with an unattractive snort, her laugh triumphant as she backed away. “I knew it. You’re terrible, Dev. Truly disgusting. That’s just vile!”

“You know nothing. But fucking around for god knows how long is perfectly acceptable, is it, Monique?”

“Well at least he’s not my stepbrother!” she spat.

My mouth went dry and I was unable to form any sort of comeback; not a word escaped my lips as Monique grabbed her purse from the table and walked towards the door, but I knew she wouldn’t leave without getting another abusive blow in.

“She’ll never have you, you know?” she told me over her shoulder. “Mila’s too smart for a sick fuck like you, Devan. And no one else will, either. You’re on your own now, you sad excuse for a man.”

And with that she walked out of the kitchen and a few seconds later I heard the front door slam shut.

Taking a deep breath, I stood for a moment, relishing the tranquil seconds as the whole house seemed to sigh with relief. It was perfectly quiet. But disturbingly empty also.

Like a robot, I walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured myself a drink. I wanted to get back to Mila badly, but I needed that drink desperately, to calm my nerves, to stop me from doing something even more stupid.

I sat down at the kitchen table with the cold glass in my hand, taking one sip after the other until the glass was dry as a bone.

So that was it. That was how a marriage ended, went up with flames with the occupants still inside, scorched and burned until there was nothing left but cinders.

I threw the expensive tumbler as hard as I could against the wall and watched the crystal shatter into thousands of little pieces, showering the kitchen floor with sliver-like needles of glass.



* * *



I knocked on Mila’s door several times as my heart beat feverishly with excitement, but there was no answer.

Her absence, especially after mentioning to her that I’d be back up to talk, was making me nervous. I tried peering through the side window of the apartment for a few long minutes, but was unable to detect any movements from within.

I considered just unlocking the door and letting myself in… but I resisted the temptation to invade her privacy. She hadn’t been too pleased about it the last time.

Finally, I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and scrolled to Mila’s number and pressed call. I waited, the phone held to my ear, longing to hear her voice, but after a couple of rings the call ended, and I had no idea whether she’d disconnected it or had her phone off.

I tried once again only to have the same result.

Trying not to read too much into the unanswered calls, I quickly typed out a text.

Need to hear your voice. Call me back when you get this. We need to talk.





Walking away from the apartment, I attempted to bury my anger. I felt disappointed and cheated, but then again, I’d brought it all upon myself. With a heavy sigh, I decided to get Mila some flowers as a peace offering. A small smile was playing on my lips as I got in my truck and made my way to the flower shop down the street.





21





Mila





With trembling fingers I disconnected the call and stared intently at the screen of my cell phone, like it had all the answers.

As if my life wasn’t complicated enough, I’d just been offered a job promotion - something I’d been hoping for for years, but which couldn’t have come at a worse time when I was already so full of conflicting thoughts; life was pulling me one way, my heart pulling me the other.

It seemed unbelievable, yet it was true. I only had to go in to sign the papers and the position would be mine.

Should I be happy about this? Could I be happy about the opportunity?

There was a huge pay raise if I accepted the job, along with the relocation package. But taking the job would mean accepting the downside; it was two states away from where I was currently working.

Three months ago, this wouldn’t have been a problem; hell, even one month ago I would’ve dropped everything, but now, I felt my heart constricting at the thought of leaving this place. My family was here, my cousin and best friend Suzanne was here, and even though I didn’t want to, I tried fighting against it, my mind went to Dev immediately.