Stepbrother Thief(101)

My mom notices me glaring, both at Gill and Cliff, and reaches out, curling her fingers around my hand and drawing my attention to her.

“It'll be alright, Regi,” she says, her hair as golden as mine, her skin as pale, not at all like my sister's straight black locks and tanned skin. She looks more Native American than both of us—I kind of think that's one reason my Grandma likes her better. Despite the fact that Gram's only a quarter Yurok—mostly she's French and English—she acts like Mom and me are freak genetic anomalies. Not my fault she married a white guy. Heck, despite Lana's insistence that I follow my sister down to California and abandon Mom, I bet she's happy, glad to be rid of both her daughter and me.

“Nothing feels alright,” I whisper back, fully aware that that boy's still staring at me. In fact, it feels like he hasn't stopped staring at me since he got here. “There's gonna be a stranger sleeping in my house tonight.” I glare at Gill and his smile only gets wider.

“A stranger is just a friend you haven't met yet,” Mom says as I roll my eyes at her.

“Or a serial killer that hasn't decided on a knife or a gun,” I respond sarcastically, and my mother laughs, the sound ringing like church bells in our cozy little dining room. Outside, the Seattle rain pounds down hard, pinging off the windows and turning our lawn into a mud bath.

“Don't be so cynical, Regina,” she says, winking and watching as Cliff sets a plate of food down in front of me. I mumble my thanks and reach for a fork to dig in. “Cynicism is cyanide for dreams.”

“Aren't we full of quotes tonight,” Cliff says, leaning down to kiss my mom on the lips. I watch them, half-disgusted and half-fascinated. Clearly there's love there, even I can tell that. They kiss like the world around them is falling away, fading into nothing, like all that matters is the feel of her mouth, his lips. Their kiss only lasts about half a second, but it feels like forever.

I look back at Gill and find his grin fading into a wistful smile, like he's as eager to taste that forbidden fruit as I am. And I don't mean kissing, just kissing. Anyone can put their mouth up against someone else's. What I want, what I secretly dream of, is a love worth dying for but a love that never dies. Somehow, someway, I can see that same sentiment reflected in Gill's eyes.

I blush and turn away.

“Have you ever heard this one?” Cliff continues, sitting down on the opposite side of the table next to his teenage son. “Never miss a glance at a second chance romance?”

“You made that one up, didn't you?” Mom asks, tossing some hair over her shoulder, far too elegant and beautiful for a Seattle suburb. In her burnished gold gown, she looks like royalty, destined for great things. I hope this new job of hers can deliver.

“Maybe,” Cliff says with a soft smile, his hair as dark as his son's, black and gleaming. “But that doesn't make it any less true, right?” When he looks up at her, she flushes, taking in his handsome good looks with a soft smile.

“True,” she says in a small whisper, and the room goes quiet for a few seconds, nothing but the sound of forks clinking against Mom's best China.

“Elena,” Gill says, breaking the bubble, drawing the attention over to him. He leans back in his chair and tucks his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. He's talking to my mom now, but he's looking right at me. “Thanks for taking me in.”

My mom looks over at him with an almost startled expression on her face.

“Taking you in? Oh, honey, don't look at this as me doing you a favor.” She smiles her best smile at him, a look that always draws the attention in a room towards her. “Me and you, we're family now, and this is what family does. We take care of each other.”

Gill's blue eyes flicker over to my mother's brown ones and he smiles shyly.

“I'll try not to cause you any trouble,” he says, looking back at me, right into my eyes. “No trouble at all.”



“Are you sure?” Gill asks as I blink back stars and memories of a different place, a different time.

“Positive,” I say, meeting his gaze when he looks over at me, searching my expression for a moment before he glances back towards the windshield. “And Gill?” My voice wavers with the words, but I know I have to say them now or he'll never really be able to know how serious I am, how much I mean what I'm about to say. “No matter what you tell me tonight, it won't change the decision I'm going to make.” I swallow hard and close my eyes, letting my emotions come together, letting the truth roll over and through me. When I open them, I know I'm really ready. I sit up straight and turn in my seat, knowing I should probably wait until Gill's stopped driving to tell him this.