Evil Stepsister

by Scarlett Jade

  “I know. Believe me, I know.” She stroked the side of my face with her finger and kissed my chest. It almost felt like she said goodbye, but it made no sense to my desire-addled brain. Dozing off again, I faintly heard the sound of a phone ringing. I was too sated to even consider answering it. Whoever had called could wait til tomorrow.

  The thing was, tomorrow was just a little too late.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sunlight fingered its way between my lashes and my eyes popped open. Recounting the events of the last twenty-four hours, I groaned. Lisa and Brielle were in a car wreck and Brielle and I had sex. Shifting to my side, I realized I was alone in her room.

  “Brielle?” I called sleepily, but she didn’t answer. Crawling from between her cotton candy colored sheets, I used her bathroom and found my clothes on the floor. Dressing quickly, I traipsed downstairs in search of her.

  The house was empty.

  Maybe she’d gone to see her mom at the hospital. I wasn’t going to totally freak out. Checking outside, I noticed the car was gone. That’s exactly what it was, she’d gone to see Lisa. Sitting down at the kitchen table, I winced and readjusted my phone in my pocket. Crap! My phone had to be dead. If Dad had attempted to call, he wouldn’t have been able to get through. Sure enough, on further inspection, my phone had no charge.

  I plugged it into the charger we shared in the kitchen and picked up the house phone to give him a call. The line was dead too.

  “What the…” I tried again. That’s when I noticed the cord that went into the phone dangling down instead of being hooked into the base. “Why would it be disconnected?”

  Shrugging it off, I reconnected the cord and dialed Dad’s cell number.

  He answered with an exhausted, “Hello?”

  “Hey Dad, how’s Lisa?”

  He paused before answering. “Brielle didn’t tell you?”

  “No. I crashed out last night. Is she there with you? The car’s gone.”

  “Brielle isn’t here…I called last night to tell her…” Dad paused again and I grimaced as I heard him cry.

  “What, Dad?”

  “Surgery didn’t work. They put in a drain to relieve pressure and eliminate fluid, and they’re giving her medicines, but it’s not looking good. She’s on life support.” He choked up again and finally rasped, “Her brain is going to herniate. It will disconnect from her brain stem at some point and she’ll die. Then they’ll harvest her organs, because she’s an organ donor, and take her off life support. Everything’s in place. Unless the medicines suddenly make things better, my wife is going to die today.”

  “Shit…Dad. I-I…”

  “Find the car. Go to the shop and run it for me today.”

  “I have school…” I reminded him.

  “They’ll fucking excuse you. Just do it for me, Carter. Go to the shop and run it. You know what to do. Keep your cell on you. I just...I love you, son.”

  “I love you too, Dad. I’ll take care of the shop, I promise.”

  “That’s my boy.”

  Hanging up, I rubbed my forehead. Where was Brielle? If I was a girl who felt guilty, where would I go? An idea popped into my head and I found the phone book beside the microwave. Searching the pages, I found her father’s number again and dialed.

  “Ed Harper, Attorney at Law, how can I help you?” a perky woman’s voice answered.

  “I need to speak to Mr. Harper. This is about his daughter and ex-wife.”

  “Mr. Harper isn’t in today due to a family emergency. Can I take your number?”

  “No, I’ll go to his house.”

  “You can’t -”

  I hung up on her and grabbed my phone before running out the door. I ran the whole way to her father’s house, which wasn’t far, just a few streets over from us. Even three blocks away, I could see Dad’s car in the driveway of the big brick house. Brielle had gone home.

  By the time I made it to the porch, my chest hurt from all the cold air I’d inhaled. Beating on the door, I waited for someone to answer. The door opened and her father stood framed in the doorway.

  “Can I help you?” he asked.

  “Where’s Brielle?”

  “She’s gone,” he said simply.

  “Did she go to school?” I panted and put my hands on my knees.

  “Carter, she’s gone,” he repeated.

  “I heard you. Where did she go?”

  “Here are your father’s car keys.” He held them out and I took them from him.

  “Where is she?”

  “Tell your father I’m so sorry about Lisa. Brielle went to be with her aunt in Washington. She needed to get away from here.”

  Stumbing slightly, I stared at him in shock. “She left.”

  “She didn’t want to watch her mother die and her subsequent funeral. I granted her request. She won’t be coming back. However, she wanted me to give you this.” From the front pocket of his red silk robe, he pulled an envelope. “If you’ll excuse me, I have things to accomplish today.”

  The door closed in my face and I turned the envelope over and over in my hands. Brielle had run away. The girl who felt guilty just walked away from the mess she’d helped to make. What did I expect from her? That she’d be there for her mother’s funeral? That we’d have a shot at making something work after our night of passion?

  I was a fool. A grade A, first class moron. Shoving the letter in my pocket, I walked down the steps and opened the door of Dad’s car. It looked like I would be the one to fix the mess. I was the one who had to grow up. The rest of my life would be altered by that one tiny misstep in my time line. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to forgive her for leaving me to figure everything out on my own. I wasn’t ready.

  Driving to the shop, I found the guys lounging in their cars, waiting to get inside. The shop should’ve opened at eight, and it was almost nine. I parked and jumped out of the car, hustling across the icy parking lot to get everyone inside.

  Jason caught up with me. “How’s your dad? We almost didn’t come in but he called us and said you’d be here.”

  “He’s…not good.”

  “Are you okay? I heard you saw it.” Parker asked, walking into the shop behind us.

  “I’m okay,” I reassured them. “I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s get the parking lot salted and get to work. It’s what Dad would want.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  Boss? Me? No, I was just holding down the fort. Dad was the boss. I went through the motions, changing tires, draining oil, lubing parts. I didn’t think about the letter jammed in the back pocket of my jeans, or the girl who had loved me and left me, or the fact that my stepmother was dying. I worked on cars. They made sense. Nothing else did.

  Lisa died later that afternoon. Dad didn’t say much about it other than that. He didn’t offer information, and I didn’t ask. I picked him up at the hospital after the garage closed and the man that sat in the car was a shell of the one I’d seen only the day before.

  He looked as though he’d aged twenty years overnight. Huddling in the passenger seat, he buckled in and rubbed his hands together, warming them in front of the heater vent. “Carter, can you take me to the liquor store?”

  “I’ll take you wherever you want, Dad.”

  “I just want to forget,” he murmured.

  “Sure, I understand.” I did. I wanted to forget Brielle. I wanted to forget every fucking minute of every day that I’d ever known her. I would do whatever he wanted if he would pull out of his depression and be okay. He had to be okay for me. I needed him.

  We stopped at the liquor store and he walked in woodenly to get two bottles of whiskey. Slumping back in the front seat, he cracked the lid of the first bottle and took a long drink. “God damn that’s good,” he hissed.

  “Dad, buckle up.”

  “If only she had…where’s Brielle?” He buckled in and took another swig of the whiskey.

  “She’s gone.”

  “She’s a runner.
Good riddance. Now it’s just me and you, Carter. How about some spaghetti?”

  “Whatever you want.” We drove home in silence and Dad crashed on the couch, nursing his bottle. I cooked spaghetti for us but by the time I’d finished, he was asleep.

  Eating alone, I worried about our future. After almost a whole bottle of whiskey, there was no way Dad would be able to work tomorrow. I would have to keep things running. Again.

  How long would I have to keep them running? I could probably make up my schoolwork, but they wouldn't be too keen on me missing a lot of school. Attendance was a pesky little thing. All I could do was play it by ear.

  The next morning Dad lay slumped on the couch, and he’d finished the bottle of whiskey. “Dad,” I shook his shoulder and he pushed me away.

  “Leave me alone.”

  “I’m going to the shop.”

  “Yeah, you do that. You’ve always been such a good boy.”

  Driving into work, I chewed my bottom lip. Adulthood had hit me full in the face and I didn’t know how to handle it. Brielle haunted me. Lisa’s death ate at me. If I’d changed the brakes. Then everyone would be home and my world wouldn’t be turned upside down.

  Parking in the lot, I found Jason and Parker waiting for me again.

  “Hey, Carter, how’s he doing?” Parker asked.

  “Not so good. Got drunk last night.”

  “When’s Lisa’s funeral?” Jason wondered.

  “He didn’t tell me. Let’s get to work, guys, and make some money today.”

  Later that afternoon I sat in my dad’s office, where I took a quick break and ate a sandwich. Jason walked in and plopped an invoice down in front of me. “What’s this?” I asked around a bite of bologna and bread.

  “Gotta pay the tire man.”

  “What the fuck do I do?”

  “Pull out the checks in the drawer, sign your name and give it to the man. Then put it in the budget.”

  “I don’t know how to do the budget.”

  “Don’t worry, kid, we’ll help you out, okay?”

  My hands shook as I wrote out the check for two thousand dollars and signed it. Jason took it out to him and I almost lost my lunch in the trashcan under the desk. He came back in and patiently taught me how to run the electronic budget on the computer.

  We were in the black. For that moment. I just had to keep us there until Dad could come back to work…if he could come back.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Two days after that I tried to talk to Dad. No plans had been made for Lisa’s funeral and now the funeral home had called, asking what to do with her body. “Dad, I need to know what you want for Lisa’s funeral. We need to make some decisions.” I hated talking about that with him.

  He looked at me with glassy, sad eyes and shook his head. “I can’t.”

  “You can’t or you won’t?”

  “Both. There’s money in the bank. Just make it nice for her, Carter. I just can’t…I can’t.” He wept then and clutched the half-empty bottle of whiskey like a lover. “Please take care of it for me.”

  “Sure, Dad.” I took one for the team.

  I had no idea what Lisa had wanted, or if they’d even discussed what to do when they died. Dad was useless. I tossed and turned all night and ended up at the funeral home the next morning as soon as they opened.

  “I can’t do this on my own. I don’t know what to do,” I told the lady at the funeral home. “My dad is a mess. He can’t even take care of himself. He asked me to handle this. What can we do?”

  “Here’s what we offer, honey,” she smiled softly, opening a binder and showing me the selection of caskets, burial plots, and funeral services they offered.

  “I don’t know what to do,” I admitted again.

  “What’s your budget?”

  “He told me just to use the bank account. I guess it’s unlimited.”

  Unlimited meant an elaborate, glossy white casket, a fancy plot in the cemetery, and a funeral that a Princess would’ve been jealous of. I spent a ridiculous amount of money. I thought it was what I was supposed to do. Kirby sat with us at the funeral, and I was grateful for his support. A preacher the lady at the home had called droned on and on, not saying a damn thing about Lisa; he didn’t know her, how could he talk about her?

  When it was over, they lowered the casket into the ground. That’s when Dad flipped. He sobbed and tried to get in the grave with her. He was wrecked. He scrabbled at the dirt and screamed, “Take me too, God! Not just her.” The scent of dirt burned my nose as I pulled on his shirt. I couldn’t get him out and he was just about to fall in, taking me with him.

  I freaked out and looked over my shoulder. Kirby was the only one left. Everyone else was gone to give us privacy while the grave was being filled in. But not Kirby, because Kirby had zero manners. That was one of the times I was glad he was an uncouth bastard. “Help me!” The men filling in the grave just stood there in shock. I screamed at them too. “Fucking help me!”

  They stood there like bumps on a log, not moving, not even responding to my pleas. Dad lurched forward again and I almost lost my grip on him when Kirby’s beefy hands reached in and caught him.

  “On it.”

  Kirby pulled him out, I couldn’t get him out on my own. He gripped him firmly, dragging him back from the gaping mouth of the grave. Kirby whispered something to him and he stilled finally, nodding and turning to sob into Kirby’s shoulder. Kirby never told me what he said to Dad, even though I asked.

  “Sometimes, a man just needs to know it’s gonna be okay,” was all he’d tell me. “And I’m telling you, Carter, it’s gonna be a’ight. I don’t know how, man, I don’t know when, but it’s gonna be a’ight…I got your back.”

  “Thanks, man,” I whispered. “I appreciate it.”

  “We’re brothers. It’s what brothers do.”

  That night I drank whiskey. It dulled the ache that permeated my heart. It made me forget about her, just for a little while. It wasn’t ideal, and the aftermath sucked, but for a little while, I forgot that I was alone.

  I pretended to be okay when I was around people. I didn’t want to talk about what I felt. I kept my own torment hidden. There wasn’t time to feel anything. I worked every day at the shop, tried to keep up with school, took him to the liquor store, and slept. My emotions were minor compared to my father’s after losing his wife. I took another one for the team and buried everything deep. The drinking was endless, I took out bags of bottles weekly. The liquor store probably thought we were having killer parties. But we weren’t. It was just him drinking.

  It was just when I was alone that the demons came out to play. I dreamed every night about Brielle and I making love. But every morning when I woke up my dream became a nightmare that never ended. She was gone and Lisa was dead. Lisa, who had become like a mom to me I would never hug again. I'd lost both of my mothers. They were never coming back, and my life was over. I couldn’t keep up with classes and I dropped out of high school with one semester left to go. I didn’t have time. I would never make it to California. I would never surf or meet Skid423. I would forever be stuck at the shop.

  At least the cars made sense to me. I could diagnose the problems in a car and fix them. Bad brakes? Put new ones on. Tranny slipping? Get a new one. I just wished my life was that simple. Plug in a computer, get the code, and know what to do. People told me at least I had a way to bring home a paycheck. Yeah. Sure. I just had to keep us afloat everyday, pay bills, pay employees and babysit an alcoholic. But I was lucky, right? I had a job.

  I wasn’t ready to be an adult, but life didn’t slow down long enough to ask me if I was ready. I had to grow up. I wondered where Brielle was, and if she was enjoying her new life. Was she dating someone? In school? Partying? I was sure she wasn’t struggling, wherever she was.

  I doubted she would ever know the meaning of the word struggle, and that pissed me off more than anything. I had to make sure my family had a paycheck and two other men’s families h
ad a paycheck too. It overwhelmed me that I was responsible for so many people. But it was my life.

  A few months after the accident, I finally opened Brielle’s letter. It had mocked me from my nightstand since the day I’d gotten it.

  Carter,

  Thank you for helping me forget about the real world for a little while. I’ll always remember our time together as something special and real...you’re the light in my darkness, Carter. You’re home. You’re the only thing that’s ever made sense…I love you but I can’t be in love with you. I can’t stay. Maybe one day you’ll understand why I have to leave. Keep being good. It’s who you are. Don’t turn out like me. Promise me.

  -Brielle

  Shit. I promised.

  Part Three - Five Years Later (The Aftermath)

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Dad, you should really consider AA meetings.”

  “AA is for quitters,” he laughed, taking another drink of his beer. “I’m fine, Carter.”

  “You’re not fine. You haven’t been fine since Lisa -”

  “Shut up. You know we don’t say her name.”

  “Why? Because you’re afraid to feel something?”

  “Like you have room to fuckin’ talk? You never talk about Brielle. You look like you’re going to toss your cookies when you see her on TV or on a magazine cover. You want to talk about being afraid to feel something, why don’t we talk about how you haven’t had a girlfriend since she left? All you do is work.”

  “I kept us afloat while you were getting drunk, God dammit! I didn’t have a choice in the matter!”

  Dad sobered slightly and took another drink. “I know you didn’t have a choice in keeping the shop afloat. That’s why it’s yours. You took care of it while I was in a dark place.”

  “I had to quit school and make some hard fucking decisions in weeks.”

  “I know you did. But you turned out okay. You’re twenty-three and you own your own business, a damn profitable one.”

  “I could’ve gone to college and had a real life. I could’ve gone to California and surfed.”