by Nicole Fox
I press a kiss to her pulse, feeling the rapid beat against my lips.
“Does this feel like revenge?”
She stills, though her heart thunders even harder. “I’d say so.”
I tug on her earlobe with my teeth. “And this?”
“Torture,” she sighs, gripping my thighs.
I finally let my hand slide lower, cupping her center through her jeans and massaging her with the heel of my palm. “What about this?”
Penny doesn’t answer, but her hips shift forward, asking for more.
“That’s what I thought,” I whisper. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone how much you enjoy my revenge. It will be our little secret.”
She thrusts against my palm, grinding herself on my hand, and tips her head back to rest on my shoulder. “Well, you know what they say about secrets?”
“What?”
“Best to keep them in the family.”
I shove Penny off of me in a horrified hurry.
She catches herself on the door, spinning around, a smile on her face, a grating mocking tone in her voice.
“Oh, dear! What’s the matter, step-brother? Is something wrong?”
29
Penny
Two Years Earlier
When I park my car under the Red Oak Tree, Noah’s car is already there.
He’s had his driver’s license longer than I have, so this is the first time I’ve ever been able to meet him at our spot rather than have him drive.
I’m grateful for the timing. I didn’t want to sit at my house and wait for him to get there.
Our spot.
That is all I had to text. I knew he’d come.
And he did.
“Noah.”
I say his name before I even see him, almost like a prayer or a meditation. It calms me down, takes the edge off my thrumming nerves.
If I can just see him, everything else will make sense.
Everything will be fine.
I walk down the grassy slope, push aside the rusted metal gate with the “Private Property” sign, and run for the tree line.
“Our spot” is, legally speaking, someone else’s spot. We don’t know whose. Nor do we particularly care.
There’s an old barn on the property and a few silos, though they’re falling apart, having been abandoned for years. Old farming equipment is hidden in the brush, rusted out and overgrown with plants and vines.
On nice days, we explore.
On the best days, we lay on a blanket in the grass and kiss, tangled in each other’s arms.
“Noah,” I say again.
I’m surprised he hasn’t walked out of the trees to meet me yet. The road just outside the fence is gravel, so it’s easy to hear if anyone else is coming. Another feature that makes our spot perfect.
If we are ever getting it on in the shrubbery, at least we’ll have a bit of forewarning to pull our pants on and look presentable.
Finally, I see him sitting in the shade beneath a tall tree, his back towards me.
His hair is longer than it’s been in a while, in desperate need of a cut by most people’s standards. I like it long, though.
“There you are,” I breathe, relieved at just the sight of him.
I’ve had a shit day, and he is the only person who could make it better. Who can help me make sense of it all.
He turns towards the sound of my voice.
As soon as I see his face, I stop in my tracks.
“Noah, what’s wrong?”
His eyes are red-rimmed, like he’s been crying, though I don’t see any tears now.
His cheeks are flushed a maroon color, but the rest of his face is pale white.
He looks like he’s seen a ghost.
I run to him and drop to my knees. “What is it, Noah? What’s wrong?”
“My parents are getting a divorce.”
He speaks the words with no emotion, though I can see the pain of it in his eyes.
They are black, midnight black. Darker than I’ve ever seen them.
“Oh my God.”
I sink down so I’m sitting on my ankles, too shocked to care about the rocks biting into my skin.
Noah’s parents are happy.
They love each other.
His dad makes scrambled eggs and toast on the weekends—double portion for me when I join them because he knows how much I like them—and his mom fresh squeezes orange juice.
Occasionally, she even sneaks a little bit of champagne into each of our glasses with a wink, never letting on that we’re having a boozy brunch.
When my house becomes too much to bear, I escape to Noah’s house.
To his cozy sunken living room and his warm family and his loving parents.
Sometimes, I imagine what it would be like to have his parents.
I never let myself dwell on it, of course, because that would make Noah my brother, which would be a nightmare.
Still, I envy his parents, and now… they’re separating.
“Why?”
Noah’s cheeks flush a deeper red, and he stands up, his hands fisted at his side.
The emotion he’d been hiding before is revealing itself now, a simmering storm just below the calm surface.
He paces back and forth, too angry to speak for a while.
I’m on the edge of my seat, but I wait, letting him process everything at his own time.
At long last, he grits out, “The son of a bitch cheated on her.”
“He cheated on your mom?” I clap my hand over my mouth. “Oh my God.”
“And his whore is pregnant.”
“Noah, I’m so sorry. Wow, I—I can’t believe it.”
“Neither can my mom,” he says, his top lip curling in disgust. “She’s been crying all day. He’s packing up his stuff now so he can move in with the other woman. Apparently, they’re going to start a little family. His first one is worn out, I guess.”
I blink—once, twice.
A thought comes to me, but I dismiss it almost as soon as it enters my mind.
I need to focus on Noah and comforting him, not on my own problems.
Besides, what I’m thinking can’t be true.
This town is small, but it’s not that small.
That’s impossible.
“It’s not you, Noah.” I curl my hand through his hair, trying to soothe him. “It has nothing to do with you.”
“He’s leaving. It has to have something to do with me.”
Noah closes his eyes and shakes his head.
When he opens them again, his face is curiously blank, the emotion buried deep within.
“Sorry, this isn’t about me. You’re the one who asked to meet here.”
I wave him away, suddenly not wanting to tell him my news. “It’s nothing.”
“Please. It will distract me.”
Even though I’d just convinced myself there’s no way Noah’s family’s deterioration could have anything to do with me, my stomach turns.
I feel shaky, nervous—and Noah can tell.
“What is it?” he presses, grabbing my hand and twining his fingers through mine.
I take a deep breath. “My mom is pregnant.”
His head snaps towards me, eyes wide. “What? I didn’t even know she was dating anyone.”
“Me neither,” I say with a breathy laugh. “Apparently, she had to keep it quiet… because the guy was married.”
I don’t look up.
Noah’s hand stills.
I want to shake him.
I want to slap the thought right out of his head because it can’t be true.
It can’t be.
“Who is he?”
My mouth is cottony as I shake my head. “I don’t know. She didn’t trust me to keep her secret, so she wouldn’t say. The only thing she said is she met him at a party when my dad was still alive. I think he works at Barber Engineering.”
I still can’t look up.
Noah bolts up and spins towards me, h
is pale skin turning a sickly shade of green. “Penn.”
“No.” I slice my hand through the air, refusing to entertain the theory. “No, okay? It’s not possible.”
His brow furrows and then relaxes. He takes a deep breath. “You’re right. My dad is moving in with his girlfriend today. I think you’d know if someone was moving into your house.”
I feel dizzy.
Do people faint as often as they do in old movies?
If so, I think it’s about to happen to me.
My blood is pooling in my feet. My throat is swollen with unshed tears.
“Penny?”
Noah says my name like a warning. He takes a half-step towards me, but then stops, like he’s afraid to get too close.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me.”
His voice is loud now, almost a shout.
Noah doesn’t shout at me. We don’t shout at each other.
There are a lot of couples that fight and make up, but Noah and I get along. Our love is the kind that’s easy, natural.
We are better together than we are apart, and we complement each other in every way.
So, hearing his voice raise sets me off balance.
“Penelope.”
My full name. Another rarity.
“When my mom told me she was pregnant, she also mentioned the father would be… bunking with us for a while.”
Noah exhales, his shoulders slouching forward, and drops to the ground, his face in his hands. “I’m going to be sick.”
“It’s a coincidence, okay? Everything’s fine. We’ll figure this out, and then we’ll feel so stupid for being worried at all. Okay?”
Noah doesn’t look up at me, so I cradle his head, threading my fingers through his hair.
I kiss his temple and his forehead, and when he finally pulls his hands from his face, I grab his cheeks and kiss him with everything I have in me.
But he barely moves. It’s like kissing a CPR dummy.
I pull away and cup his jaw, looking deep into his dark eyes. “We’ll figure this out.”
Noah follows me home.
I check my rearview mirror over and over again, worried he’ll turn off and go a different way, but he doesn’t. He stays behind me the entire way.
Even as I pull into my driveway behind the gray car my mom’s secret boyfriend drives.
It was the only thing I ever saw of him. The gray car in the dark driveway, coming to pick her up for dinner or a weekend away.
I never saw his face, never caught a glimpse.
But I can tell that the car is empty today.
Meaning he must be inside.
My heart pounds as I get out of my car and turn away, waiting for Noah to get out, too.
He doesn’t.
He’s sitting in the driver’s seat, his hands frozen on the wheel, his mouth hanging open.
I think he’s looking at me, but I realize he’s looking past me.
At the car.
Terror has its hooks in me now.
I jog to his car and open the driver side door. It’s unlocked.
“I think he’s inside. Let’s go in and meet this asshole and—”
“That’s my dad’s car.”
His words are hollow, lifeless. He’s staring straight out the windshield, unmoving.
My stomach drops out of my body. I want to fall to my knees, but I can’t move. “What?”
Suddenly, Noah is anything but still.
“That’s my fucking dad’s fucking car!” he screams, slamming his hands on the steering wheel, the entire car shaking. “That’s his! That’s his fucking car!”
“No. No.”
“He’s leaving me and my mom for you.” Noah let’s out a sharp laugh. “He always said he liked you. I never realized how much.”
“Me? This has nothing to do with me. I didn’t even know.”
“But he knew,” Noah spits. “He knew whose mom he was fucking, and he didn’t care. Now, he’s leaving.”
I’m holding onto the reins of a runaway horse, desperate to stop it, but ultimately powerless.
The harder I pull, the more dire the situation seems to grow.
I don’t know what to do.
“Get out of the car,” I beg. “Just get out, and we can figure this out. You’re upset, and I get it. I’m upset, too. We can—”
“You’re upset? About what?”
He turns to me, and his eyes are ice. The warmth and concern I’ve always associated with Noah has disappeared, frozen over. In its place is a frigid tundra, devoid of life.
“You lost your dad, and now you’ve got a new one. Fucking hooray for you.”
“Hey! That’s not fair.”
“None of this is fair,” he sneers. “Life isn’t fucking fair.”
“Noah.” I reach for him, but he swats my hands away, his nostrils flared.
“Don’t touch me. It will be illegal soon enough.”
I frown, confused by what he means, but then it hits me. “They aren’t getting married! Even if they do, we aren’t really related, Noah. Nothing has to change. This is all so out of control. We don’t even know what’s going on yet.”
Noah shakes his head. “I know what’s going on.”
“No, you don’t.” My words are spoken between gritted teeth. I’m clinging to this situation with everything I have in me, trying to stay calm so I can be here for Noah.
But he isn’t letting me.
He’s slipping away.
“I don’t want to see you anymore,” he says, his eyes fixed on some distant point out his windshield. “I don’t want to talk to you anymore. I don’t want you to text or call me. Lose my number and forget my name. Okay?”
His words are sharp as I knife. I actually glance down to see if there is some physical evidence of the blow, because I feel like my heart is being ripped out.
“You don’t mean that.”
He turns to me, his movements fast and robotic. “I’ve never meant anything more.”
“Noah, please.”
He pulls his car door shut before I can say anything else. Beyond jumping on the hood of his car, I have no other means to stop him.
Even if I did, I’m not sure it would matter. Right now, he looks like he might actually run me over.
So, I stand frozen in the driveway as Noah drives past without looking at me.
I wait for a long time, thinking he’ll come back. Certain he’ll regret what he said and come back, but after a few hours, I have no other choice but to go inside and “meet” my mom’s boyfriend.
Three months later, with my mom seven months pregnant, they get married.
Momma and Stepdad Steve Boone.
30
Penny
Present Day
“Don’t call me that.”
Noah’s cheeks are red and splotchy, his lips pressed together so hard they’re white.
“Why not? Isn’t that what we are? That’s what you said.”
“We aren’t related.”
“But, that’s what you—”
“I was wrong.”
He looks like the words taste bad in his mouth.
I’m sure they do. Noah has never been one to admit when he’s wrong, so the admission takes us both by surprise.
He rolls his eyes and lets out a sharp breath. “Clearly, I don’t think of you as my sister.”
“Stepsister?” I ask, being cheeky.
His tongue runs along his bottom teeth, and he scowls at me. “No.”
“Hmm. Wow. If only one of us had considered this possibility. If only we’d slowed down long enough to realize our whole lives weren’t over.”
“Mine is!” Noah pushes off the bed and moves towards me, though he seems to think better of it, keeping his distance. “My mom’s life is still a mess. I can’t help but notice you’re doing fine, though.”
I choke on a laugh, pressing a hand to my chest to keep
from wheezing. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“You have your mom and you dad and your little sister.”
“Your little sister, too. She’s the only legitimate connection between us.”
Noah ignores me and continues. “Seems pretty cozy from the outside looking in.”
“Considering I’m on the outside, too, I’ll have to take your word for it.”
“Yeah, right,” Noah scoffs.
“Yeah. Right!” I cross my arms over my chest and lean back against the door.
I used to tell Noah everything… except the worst parts about my mom. It was easy to forget how bad things were when I was with him because he didn’t know the truth.
I was afraid if he did, he’d treat me like a wounded puppy.
I didn’t want that.
“Stop playing the victim!”
“The fact that you don’t know how much my mom hates me is proof that I haven’t been,” I snap back, too angry to keep it to myself.
Noah’s brow furrows, but I keep talking before he can say anything. “Why do you think I always wanted to be at your house? Why do you think I never let you meet my mom? Because she was a bitch. Is a bitch. An abusive, manipulative bitch.”
Noah chews on the corner of his lip. “Abusive?”
“Don’t pretend you suddenly care. I don’t want to waste my breath because it won’t matter, anyway. Your dad’s been living with us for two years, and even he doesn’t know it’s going on. She’s very good at what she does.”
Noah sits back down on the edge of the bed. “Why don’t you tell someone?”
“Who would I tell? Your dad?” I shake my head. “I’ve spoken maybe six sentences to him since he moved in that weren’t strictly required. This may come as a surprise to you, but we aren’t exactly close. He sort of ruined my life.”
I can see Noah taking in the information, but I keep my expectations low.
We get quiet for a while, the only sound in the room coming from the party raging just downstairs. The thump of the bass vibrates the floor, sending small jolts through my body, though in a relaxing way. A grounding way.
It feels good to finally tell Noah a little bit of the truth.
It isn’t the way it used to be, but it’s something.