Evil Stepsister

by Scarlett Jade

  “Why didn’t you call me Brielle?” She cocked her head to the side and regarded me with narrowed eyes.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Almost everyone else in the world calls me Bri but you. You call me Brielle. Don’t call me Bri.” Hopping off my bed, she slipped a ponytail holder from her wrist and pulled her hair high on her head. “Come on, Carter. We need to get the house ready. Hide the valuables.”

  “I want to sleep.” I rolled over and pretended to snore.

  She stroked my arm. “Please…for me?”

  God dammit. That got me moving. “Fine. Give me a little bit to wake up.”

  “You mean jerk off. Okay. Have fun!” She bounced out of my room and closed the door behind herself.

  I sat up slowly and readied myself for the day. For the record, I didn’t jerk off. She was wrong about that.

  By seven PM, people had arrived. Brielle had begged for my stereo system, and I’d relented, letting her have it. It sat in the middle of the living room, blasting shitty music. I almost felt bad for my stereo - it was used to playing good music, not this crap. It was sullied and I’d need to cleanse it later with something decent.

  Brielle was in her element. She was a social butterfly, flitting from one group of people to another, smiling and laughing. She wore something I was pretty sure her mother had no idea she owned - a strappy little red dress with lots of cut outs all over the material. The fabric ended just below her butt cheeks and she wore little black panties under the dress, which were visible through all the cut outs. I guessed it wasn’t much worse than a bikini and a cover up, but it sure looked a lot sexier.

  I nursed a beer, which tasted like puke, and just watched the house fill up. Soon people were dancing on our furniture and people were making out. At midnight, the party was in full swing and I realized I hadn’t seen Brielle in quite some time. She had been leading a karaoke rendition of some terrible song she loved. Now she was gone.

  My stomach clenched and I was immediately worried. It wasn’t like her to just disappear from a party she’d planned out. I looked through the crowd for her, hoping to see a glimpse of bright red dress or blonde hair. She wasn’t in the lower part of the house at all, and my worry grew as I climbed the stairs. My bedroom held a couple in the throes of lovemaking, but it wasn’t Brielle.

  I wondered if she’d found someone to hook up with. I was being ridiculous worrying. She didn’t need me to protect her. I turned to walk back downstairs but just as my foot touched the first step, I heard a soft “No!” through the din. I ran for my dad and Lisa’s room and tried the doorknob. It was locked. I jiggled harder.

  “Brielle?”

  “No!” I heard again. This time it sounded strangled.

  Before I could think anything through I threw my shoulder against the door, over and over until the flimsy lock broke and the door swung open. I would deal with the consequences of the broken door later. What I saw in the bedroom broke my heart. Brielle was pinned to the bed by two guys and another was between her legs, thrusting in and out. Her head lolled on the pillow and she was clearly not in her right mind.

  I saw red. “She said no, motherfucker! Get off her!” I screamed, and I ran at the one fucking her. I knocked him sideways onto the bed and all I remembered was beating into his face endlessly with my fists. Blood sprayed when I broke his nose. His friends yanked me off him and I struggled against their grasp.

  “She said no!” I screamed again hoarsely, and I used my already injured head to bust the nose of the guy holding my left arm. He dropped and I swung at the bastard holding my right. I fought hard, taking a couple punches myself, but I felt no pain. All that mattered was keeping them away from her. That was it. I grabbed the guy still on the bed and dragged him across the floor, shoving him out the door. “Get the fuck out of my house! Everyone get out!” I roared.

  The music cut and I caught another boy by the arm and shoved him out too. “Get the fuck out!” I repeated and people started to move. They filed out of our house and soon only one guy lay on the floor in the bedroom with us. “You have until the count of three to get out of here before I string you up and cut your balls off with a butter knife,” I rasped, holding my aching side.

  He jumped up from the floor and ran down the stairs, slipping on a puddle of beer halfway down and falling to the tile of the foyer. He crawled outside and I looked over my shoulder at Brielle, who hadn’t moved. “Brielle?” I whispered, stroking her cheek gently.

  “No,” she murmured, tears in her blue eyes. “Something in my drink…”

  I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t prepared to handle any of this. “Let me take you to the hospital. God dammit, did they hurt you?”

  “No hospital. Please,” she begged me and I swallowed hard. I knew I should’ve taken her, but dammit, she looked at me with these big, wet, blue eyes, and pleaded with me. She trusted me.

  “Okay. Let me make sure everyone is gone and I’ll lock up. Don’t move.”

  “Mmkay,” she mumbled.

  I tore downstairs and ran through every room. The house was trashed, but empty. Locking the doors, I darted into the kitchen to find a bottle of water. Maybe it would help Brielle. She said there was something in her drink. Was she just drunk? Was I doing the right thing? I thought about calling our parents, but she’d begged me no hospital, and I was pretty sure she meant no parents too.

  Taking the stairs two at a time, I ran for the bedroom. She was motionless on the bed, and her chest barely moved. I tapped her cheek gently. “Brielle. Wake up.”

  “Don’t let them hurt me,” she whispered. “Promise?”

  My chest ached and I couldn’t answer her, so I nodded. She smiled weakly and closed her eyes again. I sat down on the edge of the bed and my body shook. I felt cold and I couldn’t get warm. I guessed it was coming down from the high of beating the shit out of the guys who had been hurting her.

  I was too late. They’d been using her body already, as evidenced by her torn panties and the faint bruising on her thighs. If I had just been a few minutes earlier maybe I could’ve prevented it from happening. I shouldn’t have let her convince me to have the party.

  I didn’t protect her like I should have. “Brielle,” I whispered again, gently shaking her shoulder. “Drink some water.”

  She didn’t respond and I was at a loss. She was still breathing and had a pulse. That meant she wasn't dead. Carefully, I closed her legs and slipped her heels off her feet before tucking her under the comforter, which was stained with blood spatters. Deciding against using the stained blanket, I pulled it off her and got mine from my bed, using that to cover her prone form. Tucking it in around her, I stroked her hair away from her face.

  She was helpless and I had to keep her safe.

  Not knowing what else to do, I used my nervous energy to clean up the bedroom. The comforter went in the washer after I pre-treated the blood stains like I'd seen Lisa do a million times before. I prayed they’d come out. I wiped down the splatter on the wall and I straightened up the nightstand, cringing as I found a picture of our parents broken behind the table. I hid it underneath the nightstand and used my foot to slide the broken glass under it too.

  As the hours passed and dawn filtered in over the horizon, I collapsed on the edge of the bed beside her. The house was clean. All the trash was hidden in the trunk of our car, we’d dispose of it when we could get to a dumpster. Looking at the house, no one would've ever known that we’d had a raging party there only hours before.

  Brielle hadn’t moved most of the night. She’d had flickers of lucidity, calling my name. I stretched out on the bed beside her and closed my eyes. I had to get some sleep. Our parents would be back after lunch and by then, everything had to seem normal.

  I don’t know how long I dozed, but I woke up to find Brielle in the crook of my arm. She looked up at me and smiled softly.

  “You saved me.”

  “Are you okay?” I tried to move away and she gripped the front of my sh
irt to hold me in place.

  “Carter, thank you.” She shifted slightly and touched her lips to mine. My heart sped up and thundered in my chest. I felt dizzy, just from the simplest touch. She had kissed me.

  The moment was ruined by her pushing off me, leaning over the bed, and vomiting on the freshly cleaned floor.

  I managed to get out from under her and I carried her to her bedroom. She cooperated with me enough to get on a nightgown and I tucked her into her bed. She’d be okay. She had to be. Cleaning up her puke, I checked the time.

  Noon on Sunday. After I gave the house a final once over, I tore upstairs and took the fastest shower of my life then went back to sleep.

  “Hey, buddy,” I heard my dad call, and I rolled over to see him sitting on the edge of the bed. “Why didn’t you and Brielle call us?”

  “What? I-I…” Panic shot through me and I scrambled up to sitting.

  “You need to lay down and get some rest. Brielle told us you two had food poisoning, something about bad Chinese food. Rest, okay, kiddo, and I’ll get you some ginger ale from the store.”

  “Food poisoning,” I choked out. “Right. The Chinese is killing me…”

  “Rest up, buddy. Hey, what happened to my bedroom door? The lock is broken.”

  “I helped her get to bed and I fell. It was locked and opened when I fell on it. She’s heavy. I’m sorry.”

  “Hmmm, that’s okay. I don’t really remember locking it, but it doesn’t matter. You guys just need to get better.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  I think Hitler was the one who said something like, if you tell a big lie and tell it often enough, it will be believed. Brielle and I did. We lied like professional liars. No one ever told my parents about the party. They never had a damn clue that she set up a party, got roofied and raped. Brielle and I never talked about what happened either. I think she was mortified. I didn’t know what to say. I felt guilty. Horribly guilty. I didn’t keep her safe.

  We went back to hating each other. At least I pretended to hate her. It was the right thing to do.

  Right?

  Chapter Ten

  I guessed that a part of me had hoped Brielle would’ve been kinder to me after the party and I saved her ass. But that would’ve required her to actually have a heart. Everyone knew that was an impossibility but me. Sophomore year was only a couple of days away and I was sixteen, finally. It was just another birthday. Dad and Lisa had gone for broke on Brielle’s party and after the wedding, there wasn’t much left for me.

  I didn’t complain. there wasn’t much point, really. The money just wasn’t there. So they paid for me and Kirby to go to the movies. We watched a crappy chick flick only for the terrible sex scenes. It wasn’t worth it and by the end we were pelting people in the head with pieces of popcorn.

  It was hilarious. We beaned this one old lady at least three times, and she never knew. She walked out of the movie with popcorn in her iron grey hair. Kirby popped this big biker in the back of the head with a piece and we were caught. We ran for our lives out of the movie theatre, laughing the whole way. Truthfully, I was scared shitless. I was waiting on the big guy to beat the holy hell out of us.

  But we got away. Scot free. We ended up walking down the sidewalk, eating chocolate covered raisins and talking about life. Life for two teenage boys wasn’t much more than video games, our favorite band - ever - Skid423, this kick-ass indie rock band out of Seattle, and chicks.

  “One of these days, Mindy will take me back,” Kirby sighed, popping more candy in his mouth.

  “Dude, you cheated on her with a girl online. She’s not taking you back.” Kirby had gotten entangled with this girl on a chat room who loved this dorky card magic game he liked. They had talked incessantly for weeks and were even talking on the phone. She had called when Mindy was over and she’d picked up the phone while Kirby was in the bathroom. Needless to say he lost both girls in one fell swoop.

  “Mark my words, no woman can resist Kirby Lowell after they’ve had a little bit.” Kirby stuck out his chest as he bragged and I laughed at him.

  “Come on, man. You talk like you’re a singer or something. You’re not Duncan Heath.” Duncan Heath was the latest heartthrob all the girls drooled over. Brielle had at least six posters of his face in her room. He sang stupid songs for stupid girls and he sucked. Hard.

  “I’m telling you, I got this sexual energy. It’s hard to understand but it’s there. Chicks don't know what to do with themselves when I throw it on them.”

  “Yet you’re still single.” I snorted.

  “I haven’t been throwing it on anyone right now. I’m drooling over Mindy. I can’t believe she’s dating another senior.”

  “We’re gonna be sophomores. Maybe you could date a girl that’s a little younger or something.”

  “Hell no. I do not want to train another girl,” Kirby groaned. “I just got Mindy how I wanted her.”

  “And that’s why she left you.”

  “Probably…damn, we should be like…partying. We’re sixteen and single.”

  “One day, my man.”

  Kirby grinned. “Fo’ sho’, my brother from another mother.”

  I don’t know what it was about that night, but it was one I would never forget. Life was simple then and two guys could just be themselves. I never wanted to go back home but I had to. Brielle pounced on me the second I walked in the door.

  “Happy Birthday, Carter,” she cooed, stroking my bicep.

  “Get off me.”

  Her lower lip stuck out and she sighed. “Outgrowing me?”

  “I prefer to think of it as getting over a disease.”

  “Boo, hiss. You’re just a grumpy old man. Fine, forget it.” She flounced away and I almost called her to see what she wanted, but I figured she was just jerking my chain as usual.

  School started the next day and I wasn’t ready to go back, not at a bit, not at all. Sophomore year didn’t look exciting to me. I had to deal with Brielle everyday and I would’ve rather dealt with anything else.

  I grew close to a girl named Carla over the year. She was a foreign exchange student from Brazil, and she was stunning. She had long, dark hair and big black eyes that seemed like they went on forever. They were these big, inky pools and I stared into them a lot. I got an in by helping her on the first day of school and we were pretty much inseparable after that. I think we probably would’ve gone out if Brielle hadn’t stuck herself in the middle of us every time I got a chance to talk to Carla alone.

  I was sure as hell I’d get to ask her out, finally, one Thursday afternoon in the library. She studied her chemistry text and I worked on my trig homework. Nudging her softly, I whispered, “Hey, Carla.”

  “Yeah, Carter?” I loved her smoky accent and the way she said my name. It made my belly turn to Jell-O.

  “Would you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

  Her brow furrowed and she chewed the end of her pencil. “A date? With you? But your sister told me you liked the boys.”

  “What?” I shrieked, and the librarian stormed over to our table.

  “Carter Travis, out of the library right this instant,” she hissed, grabbing the collar of my shirt and dragging me out of my chair.

  “Wait!” I cried. “I need to talk to her.”

  “You need to learn to be quiet in a library, young man. Gather your things right this minute.”

  “Carla, I-”

  “Silence or you’re going to the Principal's office next!” she whispered shrilly.

  “Yes, ma’am…” I gathered my things and tossed a bewildered Carla a sad smile. There would be no dating the beautiful Carla now. Not when she was certain I liked guys because my sweet, wonderful, angelic sister had told her I liked guys. I was going to murder her.

  It was all over school by the end of the day what had happened to me in the library, and that I was supposedly gay. I waited for Brielle outside the doors of the school. She wasn’t getting away from me and ridin
g with her friends again. Just as she walked out the door with her gaggle of girlfriends, I caught her arm.

  “Carter!” she gasped, her face paling slightly.

  “Why did you tell Carla I was… gay?” I growled softly, to keep my voice from carrying to her girlfriends. They must’ve had supersonic hearing because they giggled wildly.

  Her eyes went wide and she tried to pretend she was innocent. “Me?” she choked out. “No way.”

  “Liar.” I shook her slightly. “You’re a liar.”

  Her eyes narrowed then and from between gritted teeth she murmured, “And you’re hurting me, so I suggest you take your hands off me before I tell my Mom everything. It’s obvious I’m real good at telling a story and having people believe me. Do you want to cross me?”

  I released her and spat, “Whatever. At least I’m not a slut.”

  “Aww, that’s soooo original. Like I haven’t been called that before.” She shrugged and turned away. “Find your own way home, homo!”

  I clenched my fists and struggled to breathe. She knew she’d gotten under my skin. I had allowed it to happen. Again. Kirby came out of the front doors of the school then.

  “Yo!” he yelled, and I turned slightly.

  “What.”

  “Uh, is there something you need to tell me, bro? Do I need to start covering my b-hole around you?”

  I punched him in the arm. “Fuck you, man. You know I’m not gay.” I stormed away and he caught up with me halfway down the block.

  “Slow the hell down. This body built by chocolate can’t keep up with your scrawny ass,” he panted. “I was teasing you, bro. Just teasing. I know you’re not gay. I know you’ve been trying to get with Carla.”

  “And that’s never gonna happen now because of that damn bitch! She ruins everything.”

  “All we need is a cesspool and twenty-four hours. Forty-eight for the femur,” he said coolly, and I gaped at him.

  “What?”

  “Keep it chill, bro. We could off her…” he glanced around. “I saw it on a cop show.”