Evil Stepsister

by Scarlett Jade

  “You could still go, get your GED and take some night classes. And if you want to take a vacation, take one,” He reminded me.

  “Yeah.” I slumped back in my seat and felt sorry for myself.

  “I ain’t saying what happened didn’t suck. It did. I regret leaving everything on you. But you made it work, and you built the business up. Now you’re doing custom paint jobs and shit. You’ve done good. It’s okay to still live, though.”

  “I don’t have time to live.”

  “You mean you are still hung up on being with Brielle one time and you can’t find someone else.”

  I froze in the middle of a bite of spaghetti. “What?”

  He picked at the label on his bottle and smiled softly. “I knew.”

  “How?”

  “You had this kicked puppy look for days. I knew you were upset that she actually left. Then I found her letter.”

  I threw down my fork. “You read the letter?”

  “I did. Curiosity got the best of me. You really loved her, didn’t you?”

  “I did. I do. It’s complicated.”

  “She’s coming home for Christmas,” he told me suddenly and I jumped up from my chair.

  “What?” I didn't expect to ever see her again.

  “Brielle. Is. Coming. Home. For. Christmas,” he said again, slower this time.

  “Why?”

  “To visit her mama’s grave. To see us. I don’t know. She called a couple nights ago and said she just needed a little while out of the spotlight.”

  “I don’t want her here.”

  “Aww, come on, Carter. You don’t mean that.”

  “I do. I’ll stay at the garage. I don’t want her here.”

  “Kid, you just said you love her. This is a chance to make things right between the two of you. We could be a family again.” Dad smiled hopefully and I turned away from him, grabbing my keys.

  “Yeah, it’s a little hard to forgive the girl who walked away and left me with the mess she made. I shouldn’t have agreed to do what we did that night. Maybe she wouldn’t have left.” I put my hand on the door knob and his next words stopped me.

  “You’d really want her to be some little housewife in Marysville, Nebraska? Maybe have a couple of kids, work at the Quickie Mart? Come on, Carter. You know Bri’s always been meant for more than that. She’s not like us.”

  “Once upon a time, I thought I wasn’t like us either. She got the chance to follow her dreams. I didn’t. That’s the difference. See you later, Dad, I’m going to the shop.”

  “Carter, wait!” he called me but I was already out the door. I ran to my car. The light from the kitchen outlined his form as he stood in the doorway, calling my name.

  I tore out of the driveway and flew down the streets, driving aimlessly. Anger burned deep inside my belly and my throat ached with tears I refused to shed.

  Bri Harper was famous. She'd told me once I’d better be nice to her, she would be someone someday. She had been right. She was a pop singer who sold out shows every single night to crowds who screamed her name. She’d graced the covers of almost every magazine in America, and most of the world.

  Brielle had never been ashamed to do whatever it took to get to the top. She was there, flying high. Three records under her belt, and a multi-platinum recording artist at twenty-three. Why she wanted to come back to the podunk little shit hole in Nebraska was beyond me.

  Unless it was to torture me further. She’d always been great at that. Fantastic, really. I wasn’t interested in playing anymore cat and mouse games with her. Dad could've been right that I still kept a candle lit for her but we had become two different people. I could move on. I would move on that night.

  Turning the car around, I decided to hit up the bar in town. I needed to take the edge off and talk to someone other than myself, my father, or the guys at work. Jacoby Jones stood at the edge of town lit up like a neon haven. Drunks from all around frequented the seedy establishment, my father included. It was rumored a man could get a stiff drink and relief for other stiff things there.

  I needed some of both. Stat.

  Pulling into the little dive, I shut off the engine and climbed out of the car. Hurrying inside, I coughed slightly at the acrid scent of smoke lingering in the air. Shitty music blared from the jukebox and I forced my way through swaying couples to the bar. Tapping my hand on the oak top, I caught the attention of the bartender, a curvy, petite little redhead with a rack to die for spilling out of the top of her navy blue corset. “What’ll it be, sweetheart?” She leaned forward and gave me an ample view of her assets. I had never seen her around here before and her slow, smoky, Southern drawl had me hot.

  “Shot of whiskey for me and you. How about it?” I asked.

  She smiled slowly, her glossy crimson lips opening to reveal perfect teeth. “Sure. Sounds like a good time to me. What brings you in here tonight? She poured us both a shot and I downed mine fast before replying.

  “I need to get my mind off things.”

  She swallowed her shot and nodded. “It’s a girl, ain’t it?”

  I shrugged. “Hit me again. Isn’t it usually a girl?”

  She poured me another shot. “I don’t understand who wouldn’t want you. You’re prime real estate. What’s your name, sweetheart? I’m Delilah.” She stuck her hand across the bar and I slid mine into hers, shaking it quickly then releasing.

  “Carter.”

  “Well, Carter,” she grinned again. “Stick around, maybe I’ll see you later.”

  She twitched away, tossing a sultry glance over her shoulder and I chuckled as I downed my whiskey. The slow burn in my chest was nothing compared to the fire stoking in my belly. Delilah wanted me, and I was ready to get Brielle off my mind. For good.

  “Let me have a beer, please,” I asked Delilah as she swept by next time.

  “Sure thing, Carter.” She winked as she popped the lid off the bottle for me.

  “What do I owe you?”

  “A dance in a bit. How ‘bout that?”

  Oh, hell yeah! I couldn't mistake the lust in her tone. Even a guy who’d only had sex one time could pick up on the vibes she threw down.

  “You got it.” I sipped my beer and turned to look out at the dance floor. A rousing country song played and people line danced. I could do without it. Just as I was about to turn back to the bar, a different song came on and my blood turned to ice.

  I would've known that voice anywhere. I grew up listening to her singing. All the time. Brielle’s honey-smooth voice poured through the speaker system and filled my ears with her sticky words. My pulse was erratic and I chugged the rest of my beer. I couldn’t escape her. No matter where I went.

  A hand touched my arm and I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Jesus Christ, you scared me!” I gasped, focusing in on Delilah’s pretty face.

  “Come on, sweetheart, let me give you a dance.” She held out her hand and I put my empty bottle on the bar. Pulling me out on the dance floor, she swayed and shimmied her hips to Brielle’s song. “I love this song!” she cried over the din. “Bri Harper is amazing. Hard to believe she’s from here.”

  “She’s my stepsister,” I replied and Delilah looked like she’d hit the jackpot with me. I should’ve kept my mouth shut.

  “Really? Oh my God, could you get me an autograph?” She twined her arms around my neck and rubbed her tits against my chest.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe.”

  “I’d love one.”

  Brielle’s song ended, much to my relief, and another bad country song came on. We slow danced and Delilah kissed up and down my neck. I should’ve been hard as a rock. Instead I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. My cock was deader than a doornail.

  After the dance she smiled and tried pulling me to the bathroom. I probably could’ve gone and gotten a blow job from hell. But I didn’t want to anymore.

  “Hey, I need to go. I have work tomorrow. I’m sorry.”

  She pouted, then shrug
ged. “I get it. You’re not ready.”

  “I’m not. I thought I was…I’m really sorry.”

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. Next time.” She kissed my cheek and I smiled.

  “Thanks, Delilah, it was a pleasure.”

  “Pleasure’s all mine, Carter. Now get on out of here before I haul you back there and show you what a real woman can do.” She winked and strutted past me to the bar, where she slung drinks.

  I realized after a moment that I was standing in the middle of the dance floor like an oaf. I took my leave, waving at her one more time before I stepped out into the chilly night. Sucking in a long breath of clean, cold air, I looked up at the sky and shook my head. I had issues.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Carter, come on, dude,” Kirby sighed while I changed his oil. “You’re going to ignore her while she’s home?”

  “That’s the plan. So when’s Mindy due?” I tried to change the subject but my best friend had none of it.

  “January fifth. Don’t change the God damn subject. You have been hung up on this bitch since you drew breath after the doctor slapped your ass at birth.”

  I rolled my eyes and changed his oil filter. “You’re exaggerating.”

  “But only by a little, that’s the fucked up part.”

  Pouring in some fresh oil, I chose my words carefully. “We aren’t the same people we used to be.”

  “No one is! No one in this world is the same way they were at seventeen.”

  “My life changed when she left…”

  “And you’re bitter as hell! You’re in your prime, you should be bagging every honey this town has to offer. Instead? You’re moping around after some pussy that never was yours to begin with. Get over it. See her, be polite, and let her go. You gotta let her go.” Kirby took a long drink of his cherry slushy. “Listen to the old married man.”

  “So I can marry some good old girl and be as happy as you and Mindy?”

  “Nah, you ain’t the type.” He burped loudly.

  “So I can be alone and screw anything that walks for the rest of my life?”

  “Oh hell, that sounds good. Let’s think on that one some more.”

  I didn't want to think about that or anything else. I slammed the hood and smiled tiredly. “The van’s set to go for another five thousand miles, my man. Give Mindy my best, and kiss Daisy for me. Tell her Uncle Carter will be over Thursday night, okay?”

  Kirby fist-bumped me and pulled out his wallet. “What do I owe you?”

  “Not a damn thing, you know that.”

  “You can’t work for free, Carter.”

  “I’m doing just fine. Your twenty bucks isn’t gonna make or break me.”

  “You are doing all right for yourself. A hell of a lot better than most folks expected.”

  “When you’re forced to put food on the table or starve, you adapt.”

  “Truth. I gotta go. Mindy has an appointment at two-thirty. See you around, brother man.” Kirby clambered in his van and buckled up. “Let her go! You hear me?” he yelled out the window as he drove away.

  “I hear you,” I whispered. “I hear you, Kirbikins…” Grinning, I tossed the dirty paper towel I’d been using to wipe the oil off my hands at the bucket of trash and meandered into my office.

  It was a slow day, but we were doing great for the month. I’d booked a paint job on a Camaro, it was paid in full and I’d get fifty percent of the profits after our painter, Diego, finished up. That alone would cover most of our expenses for a while.

  Plopping down in my chair, I spun around a few times and kicked back, propping my feet up on the window ledge to look out the window at the snow that fell in lazy fat flakes from the sky. I was comfortable and it was quiet, there was no harm in taking a few minutes off.

  It would’ve been fine if I hadn’t been interrupted by the one person I did not want in my sanctuary.

  “Carter?”

  I’d always known that voice. “Hello, Brielle. Or should I call you Bri now? Everyone’s doing it.” I stayed put. I refused to turn and see her.

  “You’ve always called me Brielle. Let’s keep it that way. Aren’t you going to turn around and look at me?”

  Curiosity itched at me, but I was no stupid cat, I wanted to keep all my lives, thank you very much. “Nope.”

  She sighed loudly. “I don’t want to fight. I just wanted to come home...”

  “I thought home was far from here.”

  “Home’s always been right here. I told you so in my letter.”

  Gritting my teeth I spat, “Sorry, the rooms you occupied in my heart have been rented out to someone else. No vacancy.”

  “That’s not what Charlie says.”

  Whirling around in my chair, I faced her. “Is that so?” I growled low. Shit. She was more beautiful than I’d remembered. She looked like an angel in the middle of my greasy shop. It was more proof she didn’t belong.

  “He says you haven’t dated anyone since I left. Was it because of that night?” She cocked her head and her long blonde hair slipped over her shoulder, stopping just above her waist. Her eyes were wide too, and she seemed to be taking me in.

  I had bulked up quite a bit in the last five years and I sported a beard and slightly longer hair that I could pull back in a short ponytail. I wasn’t the clean cut kid I once was. I guess it surprised her. “It wasn’t because of that night. It was because I had to clean up the mess we made, alone.”

  She had the grace to look down at the pointed toes of her boots and blush. “I know.”

  Storming around the desk, I let her have it. “You left me here to bury your mother. You left me here to hold everything together while you traipsed off to the West Coast to start a new life. It looks good on you, though. Must’ve been nice not to have to struggle or wonder how you’re going to pay bills. So excuse me if I’ve been a little too busy to get fucked, Brielle. I’ve had a little bit on my plate.” My mechanics stared at me and I grabbed her arm, jerking her inside the office and slamming the door. “Why are you here?” I demanded, shaking her arm slightly. “To fuck with my head again? Because I’m not into that, not anymore.”

  Finally she looked up at me and I noticed the dark circles barely hidden by concealer under her eyes. “I’m tired, Carter, and you don’t know a damn thing about what I’ve gone through in the last five years.”

  “You’re tired? Yeah, me too, sweetheart.” Releasing her, I wiped my hand on my pants and backed away to a safe distance.

  “My doctor says I have to slow down. I have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. I’m exhausted.”

  “Seriously?” I eyed her warily. I didn’t believe her for a second.

  “I guess partying, doing drugs, drinking, and working twenty-four seven tends to wear on a body. I have to stop touring for a while. My manager’s pretty pissed, but it is what it is. I told Dad I was here just for a little while, but it’s a lie. I’m here, for good. I’m walking away from my career.”

  I hadn’t expected her to say that, at all. “You’re…walking away from your career. Are you fucking insane?” I exploded and she jumped.

  “Don’t yell at me, Carter,” she whispered.

  “So what, do you think you can walk in here, looking absolutely fucking beautiful and win me back, just like that? That all this time, all this fucking agony I’ve been going through would just simply disappear because you walked in? I guess it’s like, ‘Oh shit, the sun’s here, us dark clouds better haul ass!’” I leaned against my desk and snorted in derision. “Come on, Brielle, I know you better than that.”

  “You used to know me. I just got out of rehab two months ago. I’m clean and sober, and I need to make amends for what I did to you.”

  “Wait, what? Rehab?” My mouth fell open in shock.

  “Can I sit down?” she asked softly.

  I pushed off the desk, pointing at the chair in front of my desk while I flopped in my big leather chair. “By all means.”

  She pushed her hair back and smile
d at me. “I am not proud of running, Carter. I just couldn’t process what had happened. The psychiatrist at rehab said my issues stemmed from being abandoned by my father and my mom dying so young. You had me up on this pedestal, Carter, and I couldn’t be who you needed me to be. So I ran.”

  My throat squeezed with emotion. “It killed me when I realized you were just gone.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t change any of what happened in the past. All I can do is try to make the future better. Was my mother’s funeral…nice?”

  “I guess if you consider funerals to be nice. Dad tried to get in the grave with her. He was trashed out of his mind. I’ve finally gotten him off most of the whiskey and onto beers, but it’s just trading one demon for another. He won’t get help. He says AA is for quitters.”

  She grinned. “Sounds like Charlie. I’ve been calling and talking to him on and off since about a year after the…” she paused and cleared her throat. “Accident.”

  “Good for you,” I snapped and her smile fell.

  “Carter, I-”

  I spotted Diego and Parker just outside the door, listening in to our conversation. I guess it wasn’t every day that we had a pop superstar in our shop. Jumping out of my chair, I stalked across the room and threw the door open. “Get the fuck out. Shop’s closed for the afternoon.”

  “Awwww come on, Carter!” Parker chucked his rag at me. “Buzz kill. It’s just getting good.”

  “Get. Out.” I growled again and with a laugh, they left the shop, closing the door behind them and switching off the open sign in the front window. “Sorry about that,” I sighed, settling back into my chair.

  “It’s okay. You know, Carter?” She paused and blushed slightly. “You look fantastic. Charlie told me all that you’ve done for him and I’m really proud of you. I always knew you were a good guy. Way too good for me.”

  I laughed. “Too good for you? What a crock.”

  “I’m serious! Why do you think I kept you at bay? I didn’t want you to end up being a fuck up like me. I did things no kid should’ve been doing. I can’t do that anymore. All of my celeb friends are like ‘wow, amazing all night party!’ and I’m like, ‘made it through the day with only two naps!’ I rode in the fast lane for a little too long and I really need a mechanic to fix me up. Do you know a good mechanic, Carter? I need him to fix my heart. That’s the thing that’s the most broken.” She stared at me expectantly and I was at a loss for words.