LUST (A STEPBROTHER ROMANCE)

I bet he was… I thought to myself.

“He…he isn’t still in town?”

“No, sweetheart,” Mom said. “I’m sorry. We fell out of touch. Haven’t heard from him all year.”

My panic began to settle down.

“Okay…” I said quietly, trying not to alert her to my fear. Mother would blame herself if she ever knew the truth…

“Mhmm,” she nodded, steering us onto the highway. The sun was setting, and there weren’t too many cars on the road.

“Listen…I’m sorry to call you up, out of nowhere,” I tried to tell her. I felt compelled to apologize. “I know that it’s a lot, asking for help out of the blue…”

“No, no, not at all,” Mom reassured me. “I’m just so happy to have you back. You have no idea. A mother should never be separated from her daughter when they need each other.”

I thought on this, and a silence developed between us. Mom took the time to turn on the radio, flicking through a few stations.

I caught a brief snippet of Wicked Wilds as she flipped from signal to signal, and it made my heart sink.

Oh, Trent, I despaired to myself.

If only we could have been together.

I miss you so fucking much.

“Ah, here we go,” Mom chuckled, settling on a contemporary country station. Immediately, the twang of a wailing, energetic acoustic guitar sang out, accompanied by the rich but depressed voice of a rugged cowboy singer.

“Down by the bayou, I saw you last / Beer in my hand, the past in the past / On one fine hell of a winnin’ streak / We made love by the river’s creek…”

Turning away from Mom to gaze out the window at the dark, sailing trees, I let myself finally experience the weight of the choice I’d made.

I did this for you, Trent, I thought to myself.

But it didn’t stop the tears from falling.

It was a couple of hours later before we arrived back home in our tiny little stain on the wooded Alabama wilderness. The familiarity of the small bridge over the tiny river – the single decent landmark here – awoke the faintest wisps of childhood memories…

I could almost see it. I experienced a small barrage of scattered visions in the shattered glass of my life before the accident.

Skipping and playing through the trees.

A solitary school bus, pulling up by the bridge every morning – bringing the kids a town over for elementary school.

A time before I knew of mountains and oceans.

Before I knew of great castles and bustling metropolises.

I swallowed the tension that appeared in my throat. This was a place that I never liked to dwell on, and it was the place to which I had resigned myself.

I was going to live here again.

No friends.

No job.

No nothing.

As if reading my gloomy mind, Mom chirped up. “Oh! My disability check should be in the mail again any day now. Until then, I’ve got some food in the fridge you can have. I picked up your favorites when I knew you were coming…got you some of those juice popsicles you used to like so much, some cherry Pop-Tarts, some Lunchables…”

“Mom, I never liked those popsicle things,” I told her. “And what about stuff like bread, or vegetables, or fruit? Can I go get some of that?”

“Nonsense!” She smiled toothily. “We’ve got some bread at home, some peanut butter…no jelly, though…and I think I still have some grapes or something. Let’s wait for that check, and then we’ll take a look at what we can get you.”

“Wait…did you say that you collect disability now?”

She glared at me.

As if I’d questioned her moral integrity.

“Of course I collect disability. My knees are so weak, I can barely get anywhere! Always hobbling around, I’d fall and hurt myself otherwise! And without that son of a bitch ex-husband of mine, I’ve got to support myself some way!”

I snuck a discreet glance down at her legs.

They looked fine.

“Okay, Mom,” I smiled faintly. “I’m sorry that I offended you. And thank you. For getting me, and everything else.”

“Of course, dear,” Mom sweetened slightly, pulling into our drive. We scattered gravel as we drove past concealing trees and foliage, finally exposing the green, barely livable, large shack of a house. “Anything for you, my sweet darling.”

I was wrong earlier.

THIS is when I resigned myself to my fate.

Well…at least Roger’s not here.

It was the only solace that I had now.

27

Trent

There was only place I could think to look for Angel, and that was where I’d met her.

The last time I was in Alabama, I’d been reduced to the resources that my tour had provided me with. Namely, we were given access to a sleek pair of fresh but ultimately cumbersome jeeps.

Not this time.

This time, I rode in style.

It was just the way I liked it.

I revved the handlebar of the motorcycle, feeling the engine rumble with satisfaction between my thighs.

This was the way to do it.

As I whizzed between cars on the interstate, whipping from lane to lane, I kept an eager eye out for the proper exit. At my last stop, I’d paused to re-evaluate the directions, and I knew my turn was coming up soon.

But not just yet.

Which gave me time to think.

Steven had crossed the fucking line. He had been a self-righteous loser and a pain in my ass from the start, but now he had interfered with my personal life.

And now, here I was.

Cleaning up his fucking mistakes.

Taking back what was rightfully mine.

And there had been co-conspirators.

After everything that I’d done for them, half my band had turned on me. Everyone from the manager to the drummer had been a part of this.

But not my bassist.

Nice to know there was someone I could trust.

I shook my head, clearing it for what was coming next. Because there were more pressing matters to attend to…

There it is.

Riverton.

When we’d left in one of those silly jeeps, I thought that was the last time I’d see this backwater scrape of a town. Nestled serenely between the sticks and the ass-crack of nowhere, I figured that was that.

Funny how life turns out, I guess.

As I found my way onto the main highway through this boring little town, I felt my mind wander. I remembered what it felt like, feeling like I was covered with filth all the time. Dirty. Disgusting. A hideous creature, relegated to the shadows.

The filth, burned off by the light… Angel was my light.

I was drowning in brightness. Why the fuck did I leave her behind?

You’ve changed me so much, I whispered in my head to her. I don’t care what it takes. I’m going to find you, and I’m going to bring you back.

After a few minutes, the ramshackle bar came back into view

. It looked even worse with no darkness to hide its decrepit nature.

I crunched gravel beneath my tires. Stabilizing the motorcycle, I brought it to the side of the building, kicking down the support stand.

Pulling off my helmet I heard the door creak open, then a pause. I could only imagine what was going through his head as I had my back turned.

After a moment came the sound of mirthless, angry chuckling. “Of course it was fucking you,” rang out the defeated mutter of Old Greg.

I hung the helmet from the handlebar, turning to face the crotchety old man. As I did so, I heard the click of his rifle, and gazed upon his furious, wrinkled form.

“You have some fucking nerve coming back here, boy.”

“I need your help,” I responded.

He laughed, spitting into the grass. “My help? You took her away! You swooped out of fucking nowhere and you stole her away from me!”

“She’s gone,” I replied, ignoring his rifle.

Angel’s lost.

I can’t die now.

Maybe when I know she’s safe.

“She’s…gone?”

“You’re the only person who knew her,” I answered, holding my hands up – out of respect, rather than any fear. “I care about the girl. I’ve come here to find answers. I need to know what happened to her, and I think you know more than you’ve told her.”

Old Greg’s eyes quivered with fury, but he slowly lowered the rifle. “I’ve told her everything, asshole. The problem is that she can’t remember any of it.”

“Help me find her,” I pleaded. “Someone near me sent her away, alone and afraid. I’ve come to keep her safe. But I can’t reach her. Do you know where I can look for her?”

He planted the head of the rifle against the floor, leaning on it disdainfully. He stared at me angrily for a moment, and finally sighed and shook his head.

“You love that girl?”

“More than life,” I replied, not a moment of hesitation in my voice.

“I guess you’d better come inside, then. We have a lot to discuss if you want to find my granddaughter…”

28

Angel

It was mid-afternoon when I finally woke up.