Evil Stepsister

by Scarlett Jade

  Evil Stepsister

  Scarlett Jade

  Brielle Harper was the perfect woman.

  Gorgeous. Talented. Sensual.

  And my stepsister.

  I had loved Brielle Harper since I was a little boy. I was her protector. Both her parents and mine divorced within months of each other and suddenly--her mom and my dad were engaged. She tormented me my every waking moment. I was too infatuated to care.

  A tragedy sent her into my arms for just one night. She taught me about love and I helped her to forget in those few hours. The next morning, she was gone. I was left cleaning up the mess we’d made. My future was in shambles while she was a rising star.

  For five years, she was gone from my life-- a famous pop star who was burned out from living too fast for too long. She wanted back into my life, AND my heart.

  Even though she was my evil stepsister, I had always loved her. I always would. I just didn’t know if I could bank on forever with someone I couldn’t trust to stay.

  1st Edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever including Internet usage, without written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright 2015 © Scarlett Jade

  Published by Love Kissed Books

  http://lovekissedbooks.com

  Cover by Love Kissed Books

  © soup studio – dollarphotoclub.com - Elegant blonde on black background

  Dedication

  A million and one thank-yous go to my best friend, J.

  Without you, this book wouldn't have been as amazing.

  Thank you to Deb for reading and supporting me the whole way. You rock.

  Thank you to my husband for cheering me on and loving me.

  You saw my humanity and beauty in my darkest hours. I love you.

  Part One - The Beginning

  Chapter One

  “Carter!” Brielle screeched from across the playground.

  I turned immediately and looked for her. My heart flip-flopped in my chest and I smiled brightly as she darted toward me. Her big blue eyes were filled with tears and she stuck her bottom lip out.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, my smile falling as I took time away from my book to hear her problems.

  “I failed the spelling test and Mom’s gonna be so mad!” she sighed, flopping down on the sand beside me.

  “I’m sorry. We could study more,” I offered, giving up my precious Saturday morning cartoons to be with her a little longer. I had it bad for Brielle Harper. I was in love with her. I wanted so badly to tell her how I felt and see if we could be boyfriend and girlfriend.

  Fifth grade love affairs were a serious matter. I was pretty sure my heart would pound out of my chest whenever she touched my hand. I got sweaty and nervous when she’d say my name in the sweetest voice. I was a sucker for her.

  “Sure! We could study. Thanks, Carter,” she breathed, leaning in to press her soft lips against my cheek. I died, right there in the middle of the playground. All of our classmates teased us.

  “Bri and Carter, sittin’ in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

  How I wished it were true. I so wanted to kiss her. On the lips. In front of everyone. But I was too nervous. I was a chicken.

  That Saturday, we spent hours studying. I spent hours studying her, mostly. She struggled through the spelling list, tossing it aside when it became too hard. She’d switch on the TV and chew on her bottom lip.

  “Brielle?” I called her name, and I hated how my voice squeaked, showing my panic.

  “Yeah, Carter?” she flicked her baby blue eyes to my face. “What?”

  “Would you ever want to maybe… be boyfriend and girlfriend?” There, I’d asked her. I waited for her to fawn all over me. Surely she would. After all I was constantly there for her.

  “I can’t date until I’m sixteen. Daddy says so. Sorry, Carter.” She looked back at the TV and with that, all of my boyish dreams were shattered. Still, I was there for her. I helped her study whenever she asked. We played together every weekend, either at my house or hers. Our summer was magical. We were pirates, cowboys and Indians, spies. We played together all the time. Life was perfect, until we went to middle school and things began to change.

  I wasn’t sure when or how we began to separate ourselves based on how “cool” we were, but suddenly all our classmates were in groups. Brielle was definitely in the rich, popular kid group. She was beautiful, she wore all the right clothes. Her dad was a lawyer and made serious money.

  I was in the discount store bargain bin club, also known as the fifth table in the cafeteria. My dad was a mechanic, and my mom stayed home all the time. We were barely scraping by. Brielle was at the first table with all of her chattering girlfriends. They looked like beautiful peacocks, but the female version instead. They fluffed their long hair, and applied shiny, sparkly lip gloss that wasn’t quite makeup just yet, but it made them feel special. They were amazing.

  Boys hung around the table and I’d watch Brielle flirt and flutter her lashes, learning how to use her beauty to her advantage. On one particular afternoon in seventh grade, my best friend, Kirby, sat down beside me with a heavy sigh. He popped open his chocolate milk and took a long drink.

  “Dude, just go ask her out. You’re helping her study every weekend. You have an in.” He busied himself with a fresh pimple on his face, delighting in popping the gory whitehead and wiping the pus on his pants.

  I picked at my hamburger and looked longingly across the cafeteria. “She told me she can’t date until she’s sixteen. She’s only just turned thirteen. I’ll wait.” I picked more sesame seeds off my bun. Soon the bread was nothing more than crumbs and I still hadn’t taken a bite.

  “Early bird gets the worm. I bet you that Jameson is going to get her,” he muttered wisely, and I looked forlornly back at her table. I wish I’d had the balls to say something to her, but I didn’t.

  Jameson Keller had his beefy eighth grade arm wrapped around her slender shoulders. His thumb danced along the top curve of her burgeoning breasts. He swept the sausage like appendage across her skin, back and forth, slowly driving me insane. I wanted to walk over there and break every finger on his fat hand.

  How dare he touch her like that? He laughed at something she said and leaned close to whisper something in her ear. Brielle blushed and bit her bottom lip as she nodded. Wait, had I just witnessed him asking her out? Surely not.

  Oh, but I did. Brielle Harper and Jameson Keller were dating. News spread like wildfire through the school. They were the perfect couple. I wanted to barf. Instead I pretended everything was fine every Saturday morning when we studied. It was an opportunity to be close to her.

  “Carter, we’ve been at this for like two years. I cannot spell. I suck at it so bad!” she cried, tugging her honey blonde hair in frustration.

  “It’s not so bad. You’re getting better,” I reassured her. The truth was, she wasn’t. But it was because she refused to apply herself. MTV was more important. Phone calls took up our time while she whispered to her girlfriends. Her mom thought she was studying, but she wasn’t. I spent most of the time just watching her. In the few minutes of our hours together when we’d actually study, she’d half-ass the work.

  “Mom’s just glad I’m not failing,” she sighed and tossed down her pencil. “But I have to make a B on this next spelling test or I can’t go to the eighth grade dance with Jameson.”

  I felt the color drain from my face and I looked down at our spelling list to hide my d
iscomfort. “You’re going to the eighth grade dance?” I squeaked out before clearing my throat and finishing, “With Jameson?”

  “Yeah, we’re dating, you know that, Carter. I’m the only seventh grader to be asked to the dance. It’s like a freshman being asked to the senior prom!” she whined, rubbing her forehead. “I have to go. I have this gorgeous blue dress that will look amazing with Jameson’s tie he’s got picked out, and I want to go so much. All of my girlfriends are completely jealous.”

  “Your dad’s okay with you dating?” I asked softly. I’d been waiting for two years for Brielle to be my girlfriend on her saying she couldn’t date until she was sixteen. She was barely thirteen and dating a guy who was fifteen.

  “Mom and Dad are having issues,” she told me with a smirk. “He’s too worried about losing Mom to worry about me. They’re talking about a divorce, but you didn’t hear that from me,” she laughed airily. “It’s perfect for me. Jameson is such a catch. No other seventh grader has an eighth grade boyfriend. I’m moving up in this world.”

  “I see,” I looked back down at my spelling list, suddenly hating who Brielle was and despising how much time I’d wasted on a girl who was more worried about her perfect boyfriend than her family disintegrating in front of her eyes. “I need to go.”

  “Why? I thought you were going to help me study!” she pouted and I almost stayed. She was so beautiful. I wanted to kiss the bubble gum scented lip gloss off her lips to see if she tasted as sweet as it smelled. But I couldn’t. Brielle knew I wanted to be her boyfriend and instead she’d gone with Jameson Keller. Jameson freakin’ Keller, the jerk who had given Kirby a wedgie only two weeks before because Kirby ‘looked at him funny.’ He was nothing but a big, meat-headed jerk and he would touch the girl I loved. He would kiss her, and he would dance with her at the eighth grade dance, if I helped her pass her test.

  I couldn’t help her accomplish something that made me sick to my stomach. Even if it made her happy, it would make me miserable. Closing my books, I shoved them in my backpack and blinked back frustrated tears. All the time I had spent with her was totally wasted. She didn’t care about me. She was using me to get a good grade so she could go out with the man she really wanted to be dating. The beefy, hairy, pimply Jameson Keller. Not me.

  “Carter, talk to me,” she pleaded, but I couldn’t find words. I shook my head and darted out of her pastel pink room and down the stairs to the front door.

  Mrs. Harper jumped as I opened the door. She froze in place, a feather duster dangling from her hand. “Carter, where are you going?”

  “Home. Find a different tutor for her,” I whispered, running outside. My tears flowed freely as I ran. I was heartbroken. It felt like someone had reached into my chest and ripped out my still-beating heart, then stepped on it until it was in squished, bloody bits on the floor. Brielle was the one to inflict such pain. I couldn’t fathom how a beautiful girl like her could be so heartless. She was an angel. A goddess. But inside she was ugly as sin.

  I ended up in a secluded wooded area of the park near our houses, and I let my frustration out on the wildlife. I ripped branches off trees. I kicked the bark of an oak tree and shrieked in pain as I shattered a toe.

  The pain radiating up my leg from my injured foot was nothing compared to the gaping wound in my chest. I hated Brielle Harper. She had used me. I would never, ever be there for her again. I made myself that promise and I intended to keep it. I would always, forever, until the end of time hate Brielle Harper. That was a promise.

  Chapter Two

  “It’s almost the end eighth grade, man!” Kirby hollered, throwing his arm around my shoulders. “Cheer the hell up. We’re almost out of this cesspool. We’re the top of the food chain!”

  “We’re not the top of the food chain. We’re the bottom of the eighth grade food chain. You know the populars are at the top.”

  “But still, we’re almost done here. Come high school, we can be whoever we want.”

  “You think so?” I asked hopefully.

  “Sure,” Kirby laughed. “We can be hot nerds.” He sucked in his soft stomach and stuck out his chest. “See? I’m getting hotter already. I’ve got a killer plan for the summer to get ripped. You in?”

  I laughed. “I guess.”

  “So what’s going on with your parents?” he asked, sliding his arm off my shoulders as we walked into the cafeteria for lunch.

  My smile fell and I sighed. “My mom moved out.”

  “Whoa! Seriously?”

  “Yeah, she moved out yesterday. She’s living with my Aunt Libby on Spooner Street.” I shrugged as if it wasn’t affecting me. It was. I was a mess. But he didn’t have to know. There were just some things that dudes didn’t share. Feelings were one of them.

  “Wow, that’s harsh. Are they getting a divorce?” he hissed quietly as we went through the line to get some crappy cafeteria food.

  “I think so. I’ve heard them arguing. I think Mom found love online. She wants to move to be with him in California.”

  “What about you? Are you going to be leaving the magical town of Marysville, Nebraska?”

  “I doubt it. Mom’s all, ‘I am only thirty-four, I’m too young to live like this!’” I mimicked her high-pitched voice and rolled my eyes.

  “That’s just cold.”

  “They got married young and I don’t think Mom wants to deal anymore.”

  “I’m sorry.” Kirby said gently.

  I shrugged off his concern. “I’m not. As long as they’ll stop fighting it will be fine.”

  “You heard that Brielle’s parents got divorced, right? Her dad was screwing his secretary and her mom walked into his office to find him throwing it to the secretary from the back.” Kirby jiggled his hips back and forth to simulate the supposed actions of Brielle’s father as we checked out at the register. The cashier was not impressed by his air humping.

  “Damn, sucks to be her.”

  “Yeah considering he got almost everything in the divorce. Something about a prenup. Her and her mom are living in an efficiency apartment over on Willow Street, so I’ve heard.”

  Willow Street Apartments were just short of the projects in Marysville. My eyes widened in shock. “You’re serious?”

  “So I hear through the grapevine.” Kirby shrugged and plopped down at our table. He dug into his spaghetti with relish.

  I ate my chicken sandwich slowly. It seemed like Brielle Harper had gotten her comeuppance at last. She wasn't going to be the rich bitch of the school, or so I thought.

  But Brielle had what my Grandma Pearl used to call moxie. She turned her ghetto life into a ghetto fabulous one. She shed her good girl image like a snake shedding its skin and became a bad ass. She wore ragged flannel shirts and torn jeans, she used eyeliner to line her lips and she wore her hair up all the time with a bright orange bandanna wrapped around it. Soon, everyone followed her lead and Marysville, Nebraska finally hit the early nineties of grunge fashion…in the early 2000s.

  Things at home had only gotten worse. By late May, my mom had simply left the state. She was with her new boyfriend Leo in California. Dad filed for divorce, and he used Brielle’s father as his lawyer. Since my mom left me, Dad had full custody and Mom was required to pay child support.

  Kirby had come over to cheat off me in math and he sipped at a soda before belching. “There’s a rumor going around school.”

  “Oh?” I looked up from my algebra book and waited for him to tell me.

  “Brielle lost her virginity.”

  I dropped my pencil in shock. Brielle? Lost her virginity at fourteen? No way. “To who?”

  “A senior!” Kirby whooped, obviously proud he’d gotten me to react. “She’s been dating him for a month or so, and he got in those panties.”

  Bile churned in my stomach and I wrinkled my nose. “I doubt it.”

  “She’s a slut these days, so I hear. She’s real good at the beej.” He poked his tongue into his cheek to simulate a girl sucki
ng a penis.

  “That’s not the Brielle I know.”

  “That you knew, son. That girl is long gone. She stopped existing about the time she hooked up with Jameson Keller. From what I hear he taught her how to blow a dick.”

  “You’re full of shit.”

  “Am I? Take a look around, Carter. She’s not this innocent little angel anymore. You can’t have a hard on for a girl who’s not there.”

  “I don’t have a hard on for her,” I argued.

  “Right, sure you don’t. That’s why you look at her like this.” His eyes went wide and his mouth fell open. He looked like a lovesick puppy.

  “I don’t look like that.”

  “Bullshit! You look at her like she’s a princess. She’s a slut.”

  “Don’t say that about her.”

  “See! You defend her!” Kirby tossed down his pencil in irritation. “God dammit.”

  “Look, she’s not all bad.”

  “You said you hated her guts.”

  “I do!” I insisted. “I do hate her.”

  “Then call her what she is, a good for nothing slut bag,” Kirby demanded and I sighed.

  “Brielle Harper is a good for nothing slut bag. There, are you happy?”

  “I am, thank you. Could you please hurry up with this damn math so I can get home and watch some recorded TV?”

  “Sure, give me a few.” I hurried to finish my math. Instead of the math problems on the page, all I could think of was Brielle being with a mystery guy. Kissing him... or worse. I blinked furiously and tried again to focus. She lingered at the edge of my vision, but I managed to finish the work.

  Kirby copied me and took off to watch whatever he’d recorded, which was probably late night cable porn. I flopped back on my bed and fantasized about Brielle being with me and only me. She’d be so amazing. I rolled over onto my pillow and pretended to kiss her. The cotton wasn't quite as satisfying as real lips though, and I was frustrated. Disgusted with myself, I jumped off the bed and hurried downstairs to make dinner for me and Dad. He’d be in from the garage soon enough and I had to have something on the table. It was my job since Mom was gone.