Vulture (a Stepbrother Romance) -(30)

“You should be ashamed of yourself!” my sister continued, ignoring my request to lower her voice. “Do you think it was easy on us? Easy on me?”

“I never said that. This is not about you, Anita. I couldn’t handle the grief.”

Anita stared at me as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You don’t see me giving up, do you? I have kids to look after. I can’t afford to crumble, Sara.”

I shook my head and sent locks of hair flying across my face. I brushed them away. “I’m not as strong as you, Anita. I’m different; we’ve both known that since we were little. I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders, I absorb the pain, and you just brush it off—water off a duck’s back.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake. Grow up! I can’t look after you and my family and everyone else, too. I’m not some superwoman, Sara.”

“I’m not asking you to look after me!” I yelled, surprised at my own voice. It was stronger now than it had ever been. “I never have. You just choose to think everyone needs you. Well, I don’t!”

She gasped at the words I’d spoken, and my head reeled with pain from the noise I’d inflicted upon it. Anita threw up her hands and turned on her heels without another word. I stared after her receding back, finally feeling like I was finally making some progress in my life.





12





Harvey





Loud screaming sounded through the brick walls and greeted me as I stood at the front door. If it weren’t for Sara, I would’ve turned my back on this drama-fuelled nightmare of a family. I was a glutton for punishment, though; I just couldn’t keep away from her.

The others weren’t worth my time. Fuck knows how my father put up with it, I thought. Mind, I’ve never understood him, anyway. He let my skank of a mother walk all over him; why should his new family be any different? I should give him a break, though. He’s never really been lucky in love, and now that Victoria was gone, the twins were all he had left. Well, except for me.

Angry voices continued to echo down the stairs as I let myself into Sara’s house. The moment I stepped inside I knew that something was wrong. This wasn’t the typical sisterly screaming match I’d grown accustomed to.

I wandered towards the kitchen instead of going straight upstairs. I wanted to give Sara some room to stick up for herself. Stacks of plates covered the sink. The repulsive smell of a full bin, neglected, wafted in the air. I backed away from the odour and walked into the living room, gritting my teeth as Anita continued to hurl abuse at her sister.

Lines of photos decorated the white walls. The bright faces of Sara and Eric and the memory of their grins and laughter echoed throughout the whole room. During the last few years, she had always made it her mission to tell everyone that this was her favourite part of the house, where she was surrounded by photographic memories. But something had never felt quite right when Eric was alive. Sara always seemed on edge, her eyes flickering to her husband’s every time she uttered a single syllable, as if she were looking for his approval. Or gauging his reaction—studying him as if he were a kettle on the boil.

A sudden ache blossomed in my chest as I viewed their wedding photo at the centre of the display. There was a tiny part of me that didn’t like seeing Sara with any man. I couldn’t imagine her enfolded in Eric’s arms, or any man’s at all. Or maybe I just didn’t want to.

The only arms that should be wrapped round her body were mine. She’d invited me into her bed the other night, and god only knows I never wanted to leave it. I wondered if she remembered as clearly as I did. The room was dark, making it feel that if something happened, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway because it would be absorbed into the blackness of the night, never to be spoken of again. My legs and arms had covered her own; I held her body tight, close, and contained against my muscular chest. Her curvaceous bottom filled up the empty space between us, pressing into my groin, demanding attention.

I’d struggled to control myself, wanting nothing more than to strip her naked and take away all the pain she was feeling. Make her feel like there was some light at the end of the tunnel of this dreadful year. But I’d gone too far, lost myself in her warm scent. She’d fallen asleep, and I couldn’t resist brushing my lips against the back of her bare neck, tasting her for the first time.

She’d moaned softly. My dick reacted as if it was the most natural thing on earth to do. I did it again, and her breath suddenly changed tempo, no longer the smooth intakes you hear when someone’s in deep sleep, but controlled, tense, alert… Sara woke and my heart pounded, reverberating against her back as I waited for her reaction.