Lies of the Stepbrothers (2 Wicked Stepbrothers 1 Innocent Girl 3)

Chapter 1

I’m seething.

I’m enraged.

I’m totally insane, mad to the bone.

I’ve hidden it well for all my life. Pretended I was normal, just like everyone else, while my mind was filled to the brim with darkness. And now it’s going to spill over and I

Am

Going

To

Go

Crazy.

***

I’ve searched for him for hours. Been to our apartment – though it never felt like it was mine – tried his job, tried the bar he goes to to get pathetically drunk because of the feelings … All about those feelings.

Thank God I don’t have any.

I finally make my way back to Emme.

My sweet, not-so-innocent Emme.

She should have been mine – I should have been the first. But he took that away from me, just like he took everything else. Because that’s all that Blane does.

That’s why I had to punish Emme. She didn’t wait for me. The little bitch.

I’m coming back though, baby doll, and I’m ready for round two.

My mind is crazed, my fists clenched at the sides of my body as I walk back to Emme’s house, my old home. But as soon as I turn the corner, I realize I have two problems.

First of all, there’s a gate. A locked gate. And since I left in a rush, I didn’t grab my keys. And I’m guessing if I ring the doorbell, my little doll might not be inclined to open it and play a good hostess. I have another problem though, and it makes me clench my teeth.

Because my twin’s car is parked in the driveway, taunting me.

“Fucker,” I mutter to myself, glaring at the care as if I could destroy it with a single gaze. But nothing happens, apart from the low angry growl that escapes my throat.

I realize, because I am sane, even though I am mad, that I am at a disadvantage here. I realize Emme’s with him, and he’s probably injected some sick, stupid ideas into her head, just like he always does.

And as I stare at my childhood home, rage seeping through the pores of my skin and creating a musky scent, I realize this won’t work.

It’s not the right time. Not the perfect moment. Not now.

I’ll have to wait and it’s fucking killing me.

I am not a patient man.

But I will be.

I will wait, and I’ll be good – as good as someone as fucked up as me can be – until I get her. Until my hands wrap around her neck, my dick inside her pussy, and I take her for my own, finally claiming her.

Not now.

Not now.

Not now.

But soon, I promise my twin and my stepsister, a smile spreading over my face as I imagine their blood splattering my face.

***

I split before one of them spots me. I wander, roam the streets. I see everything, inhale their filthy scent, try to discern their dirty little secret from the strained expression they wear.

Passersby. My favorite kind of amusement.

I walk around until it starts to get light outside. Walk until my stomach starts to rumble. I get a takeaway coffee and a sandwich with the last money I have.

I think of the painting I left in Emme’s attic. Her beauty, smeared with blood and guts. My perfect little doll, painted the way I see her. Dark, disturbing and messy.

My fists clench as I realize there’s next to no chance of me getting her portrait back. It was one of my best – a piece de resistance. I need it, if I can’t have her.

I try to memorize her as best as I can to recreate it.

Remember her milky skin, her incredibly long hair with the little kinks and waves she gets when she doesn’t comb it out enough. I think of her sparkling eyes, the innocent curve of her lips.

And I let the darkness take over.

I don’t know where I’ll go. I don’t know what I’m going to do.

I have no money, no prospects, no future.

Without my brother and my stepsister, I have no income.

But that doesn’t matter, because I always get what I want.

And what do I want?

My brother’s warm blood, smeared on my hands. Tasting Emme’s tears as she cries over him. Fucking her as she begs for me to stop. Claiming her life, taking his.

Let me tell you another thing about myself.

I always get what I want.

So I’ll roam the streets, if I have to. I’ll sleep in this dark alleyway, if it brings me closer to my goal. I’ll ignore the trash that litters it – be it people or garbage, it’s all the same to me.

I pull my hoodie over my face, shielding it from the curious onlookers. I hide, because I don’t want to be found.

Not just yet.

Chapter 2

3 months later

My life has changed, and not for the better. I’m a man of the streets now, claiming one corner in particular for my own. I snarl at other homeless people who walk by, desperate to keep at least this small piece of the sidewalk as my only possession.

Sometimes I’m fed, but more often, I’m hungry. I eat when I have the money, or when someone gives me a sandwich, takes pity on me. And instead of feeling grateful I’m consumed by the red mist, angered that someone would think I need help.

However, I really do.

I’m not a man that can take care of himself. I’ve been shielded by my father, and later, by my brother, and I’ve never had to work a day in my life.

Now, I know going back to anywhere where Blane might find me is too risky. So I stay here.

At first, I tried to find a job, but it proved to be useless. No one is hiring, and since I didn’t even have a shower, they wouldn’t take me as a bartender or something similar.

So I’ve started doing the one thing I’ve always been good at.