Family Secrets (6 page)

NOW

BROCK

Christ
!  I can hardly believe my eyes.  Cassidy Delaney, the star of many of my fantasies, is standing in front of me looking lost, scared, and bewildered.  Ignoring her obvious discomfort, I unpack the dishes of food and set them out for us to eat.

Twelve hours ago, I thought this day was a bad idea.  It was something I had to go through with though, considering it was a challenge on behalf of a charity I donated to.  A blind agreement, of sorts, if you will.  Basically, I was challenged to go on a television dating show, in exchange for a large sum of money to be donated to the charity in question.  Of course, I had agreed.  Who wouldn’t – it’s a charity for God’s sake.  However, twelve hours ago, I contemplated just writing a check for a few thousand dollars and hoping they would accept that instead.  Still, for some reason, I’d decided to go ahead with the show. 

Now, I’m glad I did.  I never thought she would choose me, yet she did. 
Cassi
.  That’s what she called herself.  Not Cassidy. 
Cassi.
  When I walked around that curtain and saw her sitting there, it felt like the room was spinning and I had somehow been transported back through time, six years ago when I was a horny eighteen-year-old, looking to get his dick wet by any girl willing.  Case in point, Cassidy Delaney. 

Her mother married my father and she came into my world like a whirlwind.  The fact that she lived with us did nothing to curb my dick’s need for her.

Back then she was seventeen, with a body that sung to my cock like a nun praising the Lord.  I wanted her badly.  She was my new stepsister and the entire concept was forbidden.  That alone made my dick even harder.  From the moment I saw her, I couldn’t wait to get between those creamy thighs and own her.

It had taken me two months to wear her down.  When I finally got her naked, all logical thoughts had evaded me, and I could think of nothing else besides getting inside her warm, hot cunt.  By the time it was over, I was already thinking about the next time I could have her.  It wasn’t until she mentioned a condom that I remembered I hadn’t even worn one.

Thankfully, she never got pregnant.  Two weeks later at a party, I fucked her again.  This time up against a wall.  We were both drunk, but it was still fucking amazing.  Hot, passionate, and free.  Neither of us held anything back.  I walked away with claw marks on my shoulders blades, while she had fingertip bruises on her hips from my hands. 

The third and final time I had her, was the night of her eighteenth birthday, which was about four months later.  We had all gone out as a family to a nice restaurant to celebrate.  Then, when we got home and everyone had retired to bed, I crept into her room and made love to her.  Slowly, fervently.  It was singlehandedly the best fuck of my life, and to date the only time I have made love. 

It’s also the only time a condom has broken on me.  Rather than worry her, I kept it to myself and pretended everything was normal.  She didn’t get pregnant when we hadn’t used any protection, so I saw no reason to cause her any stress.  I was sure she wouldn’t get pregnant that time either.  And, she hadn’t.  But, two months later she left and I didn’t see her again until two hours ago.

“It’s a nice evening,” she remarks, simultaneously breaking the silence and pulling me from my thoughts.

“It is,” I agree.  “So, tell me what you’ve been doing with yourself these past few years?” I ask, deciding to change tactics, seeing as she’s been evading each question I’ve presented to her.

“I’ve just been working hard and making a life for myself.”

“What job do you do?”

“I’m a midwife,” she replies, a smile lighting her face and slamming into my chest like a freight train.

“That’s a very noble career choice.  The smile on your face tells me you enjoy it.”

“I do.  It’s very rewarding, and it makes me happy.”  She’s silent for a few beats while we both eat some food.  “I remember Bianca saying you’re a businessman.  Did you follow in your father’s footsteps?”

I nod.  “I did.  I run the company now.  Dad retired about two years ago, and completely handed things over to me.”

“That must have been very stressful, I imagine.  A lot of responsibility on your shoulders.”

“It is, but it’s made easier when you have a great team working under you, like I do.”

“Well, I’m happy for you.  It sounds as if everything is going well for you.”

“How’s your duck?”

“Delicious, thank you.”  She scoops up some duck with coconut rice and brings it to her lips.  I watch fascinated as her plump flesh parts.

I finish of my pork belly and prawns dish, and place our trash back in the bag.

“How long have you been calling yourself Cassi?” 

“Six years,” she answers quietly. 

“I like it.”  Another bout of silence ensues and I begin to feel like I’m getting nowhere.  She’s not giving me any more than is required, and I can’t figure out why.  I haven’t done anything to her.  She left.  She disappeared without a trace.  So why the hell is she acting like she is hiding something?

THEN

Five years, 6 months ago

I’ve never felt more alone in my life.  I’m confused and petrified, and I don’t know what to do.

Peyton!  I’ll text Peyton.  She’ll know what to do.  I quickly fire off a text and wait for her response. 

*I’ll be there in ten* 

Thank you, God.

Sure enough, ten minutes later, Peyton bursts through the door of my bedroom.

“What is it?  What’s wrong?”  she asks, concern in her tone as she takes in my appearance.  I’m still in my pajamas, and I’m pacing my floor.

“Sit.  We should sit,” I say, panicking.

“Cassidy?”

“I have to tell you something,” I blurt.

“Good. I have to tell you something, too,” she immediately replies.  For the first time, I notice how scared she looks.

“Okay, you go first,” I offer, appearing polite, but really I’m just passing the buck, stalling for time.

“Please don’t hate me, okay?”

“I won’t,” I promise.  Peyton and I have become great friends over the last six months.  We attend the same school, but don’t have many classes together, so instead, we eat lunch together every day and catch up outside of school in the afternoons. 

“I slept with Brock,” she whispers.  Just like that, my world screeches to a halt.  I feel like I’m outside of my body.  This can’t be happening.  “It was just one time, and it happened ages ago.  We were both drinking and stuff,” she rushes out.  “But, I think he’s kinda cute and I wanted to be up front with you because I think I might want to ask him out.”

This can’t be happening.

“Cassidy?  Cassidy, please say something?”

“I, uh, I,” I stutter, unable to form a single coherent thought and process it into a word.  I’m stunned.  Blindsided.

“I know he’s your brother, or um, stepbrother, and I’m your friend, so if this makes you, like, awkward or anything, I’ll back off.  Your friendship means more to me than a guy.  It’s just, since that night, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him.  I want to see if he feels the same.”

“It’s okay,” I finally manage.  “I actually don’t feel very well though, so maybe we can catch up tomorrow or something?”

“Did you want to talk about what was on your mind?”

“Oh no,” I say, waving her off.  “It was nothing important.  Just silly school stuff,” I lie. 

“Okay, well if you’re sure?”

“Of course.  I’ll see you tomorrow at school.”  I fake a smile and pull her in for a hug, all the while dying inside.

I’ve been home from school for two days.  Partly because I’ve been sick, but mostly because I can’t stomach the thought of leaving my bedroom and facing Peyton.

She slept with him.  When did it happen?  Do I even have a right to feel hurt?

It hurts.  It hurts a lot.  It’s not her fault, though.  How was she to know I’m secretly in love with my stepbrother? 

With no one else to turn to, I know the only person I can confide in is my mother.  Bolstering my courage, I find her in the library, reading.  She’s alone, which is a good start.

“Excuse me, Mother?”  I ask quietly, not wanting to interrupt her, but having no choice.

“Yes, Cassidy?  Come in.”

With wooden legs, I take a seat across from her.

“I need to speak to you about something.  It’s important.”

“I’m listening.”  She places her book down, and looks to me expectantly.

How does one tell their mother they’re pregnant?  Maybe begin with a speech, pleading my case before easing her into it?  Or should I give examples of teen moms who have been successful at raising their children so she’s reassured I can do this?

“I’m pregnant,” I blurt. 
Way to go, Cassidy.  You idiot!

“I beg your pardon?”

“It’s unexpected, of course, but I am pregnant, Mother, and I’m scared,” I admit.

“I see.”  She looks at me in disdain.

“Who is the father?”

I swallow hard. 
Shit.
  “Brock.”  I barely finish saying his name before her hand lashes out and she slaps me right across the cheek.  Tears blur my vision as my skin heats from the impact.

Ouch.

“You’re a disgrace.  You will get rid of that
thing
in your stomach, and never speak another word of this again.  Do you understand me?  You will do nothing but bring shame upon this family if this atrocious news gets into the public,” she spits.

“I want to keep the baby,” I say, instantly feeling protective of my child.

“You’ll do no such thing.  Brock will not want that inbred thing you’re carrying.  He’s set to take over the company in a few years’ time.  I won’t have you shaming this family’s legacy.  I will take you myself tomorrow, and you can get rid of it.”  Her lip curls in disgust.

“No,” I grit out assertively.  I will not let her kill my baby.  No!

“Listen to me, young lady.  You have two choices.  You either get rid of that piece of trash you’re carrying and never speak of this again.  Or, you leave this house and you never return.  You will no longer be my daughter or a part of this family.”

“Fine.”  I stand, my body trembling with anger.  “I’ll leave tomorrow.”

My mother stands as well and snarls, her face twisting in an ugly way.  “You do this yourself, then.  If I hear you have tried to jeopardize Brock’s future by mentioning this undesirable fiasco to him, I will turn your life into a living hell, do you understand me?”

“Perfectly.”

“Good.  Now leave.  You disgust me.”  With her parting shot still ringing in my ears, I make my way back up the stairs and into my bedroom to pack my belongings.

Fuck her.

Fuck Brock.

Fuck them all.

The next morning after Charles leaves for work, I gather my two suitcases full of belongings.

I would have liked to have left Madeline a note saying goodbye, and thanking her for treating me so kindly when I first moved in.  I decided not to because I know I would have caved and confessed the reason I’m leaving.  Since she started back at college, I have only seen her twice anyway, so it’s not like we were super close.

Brock left three days ago to go on a five day school trip, so I can’t say goodbye to him either.  My mother is right in a sense though – he has his future all mapped out for him, and taking care of a baby isn’t part of that grand plan.  I don’t want to create trouble for him, so this is the best way.  I’m tough, I’ll survive, and I’ll be the best damned mom I can be.

“I see you haven’t changed your mind.  I can’t begin to express how disappointed I am, Cassidy.  However, you still have time to reconsider.  I can make an appointment for you and have everything taken care of by this afternoon.”

“No, thank you.” I keep walking.

“This is for you.  You’ll need it.”  She hands me an envelope.  “Cassidy, if you walk out that door, you are no longer part of this family,” she warns.

My hand hovers on the doorknob before I pull it open and step through into the morning sunlight.

“Goodbye, Celia,” I say, looking her dead in the eye, refusing to acknowledge her as my mother.  As far as I’m concerned she lost that right last night.

“Good luck, Cassidy.  You have no idea what you are getting yourself into.  You’re no longer my concern.”  With that, she slams the door in my face.  I load my bags in to my car and drive away, promising myself I’ll never return.

NOW

     CASSIDY

I can tell he wants to ask me more questions by the way he keeps catching my eye and attempting to speak.  But, then I look away and he doesn’t speak.  I know he is probably dying to ask about my child, but that is something I can never let happen.  So, rather than waste time waiting for him to ask, or praying he
doesn’t
ask, I decide to cut this meeting short. 

Reaching into my pocket, I take out my phone and look at the screen, frowning.  Then, I glance over to him.

“Sorry, I’m going to have to go.  Something needs my attention immediately.  Could you please give me a lift back to my car?”

He looks a little shocked and suspicious, but he agrees, thankfully.  I could walk it if I really had to, but it’s dark and the night air is getting a chill to it.

The drive back is unsurprisingly awkward.  Brock’s jaw is tight, and his hands are clenched firmly on the steering wheel.  Tension radiates from him, filling the cab, and making me even more anxious as I try to anticipate what, if anything, is going to come out of his mouth next.

A few minutes later, he pulls to a stop in the now almost vacant studio parking lot.  I climb out before the car completely halts.  Holding my door open, I give him the fakest, brightest smile I can muster. 

“It was great to see you again, Brock.  Sorry about earlier.  All the best,” I rush out.  Closing the door, I walk quickly to my car, fumbling to find my keys in my purse and cursing myself for not already having them out.  Finally locating them, I beep the locks and open my door.  That’s when I feel a hand on my shoulder.

Fuck.  My.  Life.

“Not so fast, Cassidy,” he rumbles tersely in my ear.  The close contact, his breath on my skin, hell, the fact I haven’t had a man since him, is the only reason I can provide for the way my body betrays me.  A shiver tremors down my spine and my breath hitches.  My nipples pucker slightly against my bra and my tummy dips.

I clench my hands into fists and draw in a deep lungful of air.

“I know you have to be somewhere, but I don’t want to let you go without getting your number at least.”

“I don’t think-,” I start, before he cuts me off.

“I want to see you again,” he says firmly.  “Hand me your phone.”

“As I was saying, before you rudely cut me off,” I grit out through clenched teeth.  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?  Have something to hide?” he challenges.  Oh shit, he sounds angry.  So, so, fucking angry.

“Nope.”  I slap my phone into his hand.  Quicker this is done, quicker I can go home and drown myself in a tub of Ben & Jerry’s.  He programs himself in and then I hear a beep come from his pocket.

“There.  Now I have your number, and you have mine.  I’ll call you.”

“Don’t bother,” I mumble under my breath.

“And Cassi?”

“Yes?” I snap tartly.

“You better answer when I call,” he warns.  For some reason, my stupid body loves his demanding tone. 
Traitorous bitch.

“Of course.”  I slide into my seat, slam my door closed, and hit the lock button, just in case he tries to open it.  Then, I drive home as fast as possible without breaking the road rules, and commence Operation Death by Ben & Jerry’s.

*~*

The following morning, with a sugar hangover, I sit out on my quaint back porch overlooking the forest behind my house.  Sipping my coffee, I let my thoughts run rampant in my mind.

The most beautiful thing in the world is the love a mother has for her child.  The sheer simplicity and deep complexity of that love.  Simple in the fact that it just
is.
  It’s also intricate, profound, and intense.  Layers upon layers of soul-deep, unexplained, unequivocal, pure love.

It’s not something we have to learn or something we make ourselves do.  It comes naturally, it’s unconditional, and the most uncontaminated thing to experience in your lifetime.

That love, that connection that you feel from the moment you learn you have a little being growing in your stomach.  The caring that you feel, the instant defensiveness that comes over you.  It can’t be explained well enough to give it justice.

It’s funny the way a mother’s protective instinct kicks in.  Sometimes, we aren’t even consciously aware of a danger, but somewhere deep inside us, in the part that controls our inner emotions, we just
know.
  And, most times, we act without even thinking.  We just
do
, and then process our feelings later. 

I guess that’s how it was for me from the very beginning.  The moment I learned I was pregnant with Elody, I felt defensive.  I knew the world was going to be against us.  I knew I would have to fight for both of us, and I was prepared to do so without even knowing it.  I just
did
.  I was just eighteen and pregnant to my stepbrother.  The odds were stacked high against us from the very beginning, but I didn’t care.  I was going to beat each and every obstacle presented to us, no matter what it was.

At the time, I was naïve.  I had no idea at all what being a parent encompassed.  But, I soon learnt, and I’m still learning.  At the end of each day, I might not have accomplished all I set out to achieve that day, but I go to sleep proud I did the best I could by my child that day.  I think that’s the most important thing.  I often wonder whether Celia has difficulty sleeping at night, knowing she didn’t do the best by me.  Then, I have to mentally slap myself, because Celia couldn’t give two fucks about me.  She only cares about Celia, and what is in her own best interests.

Yesterday, I was dying to ask Brock about my mother.  Did she seem depressed?  Was my absence hurting her?  Did she even mention me?  Did anyone wonder where I was?  If I am still alive?  Did she ever give any impression she gave a shit at all?  What did she tell them all when I left?  I could ask a million questions, but I know at the end of the day, it won’t make me feel any different when it comes to her.  She will still be the woman who birthed me, raised me, and then lost all of my respect with one comment.

“You will get rid of that
thing
in your stomach, and never speak another word of this again.”

I may have been young and inexperienced.  I may not have known what the hell I was doing or what to expect, but I did know one thing for absolute certain:  I wasn’t carrying a
thing
in my stomach.  I was carrying a
baby.
  A baby I loved with my whole heart.  A baby who had a heartbeat.  A baby who was
mine.

Knowing what I know now, I don’t think I will ever be able to understand my mother’s actions that day.

My phone pings, interrupting my thoughts.  I finish off the last of my coffee and set my mug down before checking the text.

I smile and stand, walking inside.  Elody will be back from the sleepover shortly, according to the text message from her friend’s mom.  I run a brush through my hair and tie it back from my face.  Then I quickly change into a pair of loose-fitting, super soft, worn jeans with a pale pink cashmere sweater. 

“I’m home,” I hear called through the house.  I rush down the hallway and round the corner to see my baby girl standing there, a big grin on her face, waiting for me.

“Hey, baby.  I missed you.” I tug her into my arms and squeeze her tight.  “Did you have fun?”

“Yes.  Miss Renee let us have pizza for dinner and after that we had ice cream sundaes and popcorn.” 

“It sounds like you were spoiled.”

She nods her head.   Turning to her friend, Darla, Elody says, “Come see my room.”  They run off together, and I turn my attention to Renee.

“Thanks so much for having her this weekend.  It sounds like they had a great time.”

“They did,” she confirms.  “I thought I would be up all night with them, but they crashed at about ten last night, and didn’t wake until seven this morning.”

“Oh wow!  That’s awesome.  I’m glad you were able to have a decent night too, then,” I say with a laugh.  “Got time for a coffee?”

“Sure.  Why not?”

I make us each a cup and then we move out on the back porch.

“It’s such a beautiful place you have here, Cassi.  I’m jealous of your view.”

“Thank you. I love it, too.  I was extremely lucky to get this place when I did, though.”  Not long after I started working, I saw this home and fell in love with it.  It had just gone on the market, so I put in an offer, and the previous owners accepted right away because they wanted a quick, no-fuss sale.  They were going through a divorce that was extremely messy from what I could gather.

“Absolutely.  I’d like to buy soon. Hopefully something comes up before I have to renew my lease.”

“Hopefully you can find something soon.  How’s work going?”

“Not too bad now that management has changed over.  My new boss is a lot more mature than my previous one, which helps.  Okay, enough of the small talk.  I have to know – how was the dating show?  I know you’re bound by contracts and whatever to stay silent, but come on! Give me a bone, here,” she rushes out, as if she has been waiting forever to ask.

I can’t contain my laughter at her eagerness.

“You’re right – I can’t say too much.  However, I will tell you that I will
never
be doing that shit again.  Ever.  It was most definitely
not
what I was expecting.  You’re lucky I appreciate your friendship so much, or I might have disowned you,” I say with no malice.

“It was not what you were expecting, in a good way or a bad way?” she asks, bouncing her knees excitedly.

“A bad way,” I grimace.

She deflates. “Oh.  I’m sorry, Cassi. That sucks.”

“Yeah,” I agree.

We chat for a while longer while the girls play inside, and then Darla and Renee leave.

“Want some lunch, kiddo?”

“Yes, please.  Can we play Barbies after?”

“Sure.”  I smile down at her and run my hands through her thick dark hair.  Her blue-green eyes sparkle at me and I lean down and kiss her forehead.

“Go wash up.  I’ll get lunch.”

*~*

“Night, mommy.  Love you.”

“I love you, too, precious girl.  Sleep tight.”

I kiss her once more and leave her room, turning out her light and pulling her door almost closed as I go. 

After lunch, we had spent a good two hours playing Barbies before we settled down and watched Cinderella.  It was a great way to spend quality time with my girl.  Times like these are things I cherish the most.

My bathroom is what sold me on this house – well it, and the view from the back porch.  It’s spacious, calming, and the piece de resistance is the four-person spa bath.  That’s right,
four person spa bath
.  It’s massive, inviting, and amazing.  The downside is it takes a while to fill.  With that in mind, I turn on the taps, squirt in some of my favorite jasmine and vanilla scented oils, and make my way out to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of wine.  By the time I’ve got my drink and my Kindle, the tub is almost full.  I strip off and turn the tap off before sinking into the deliciously hot, soapy, scented water.

“Ahh,” I sigh as my body submerges.  “So good.”  I take a sip of my wine and then lie back, adjusting my neck pillow so it’s just right.  Then I fire up my Kindle and lose myself in the book I’m currently reading.

When the water turns cold, my skin has pruned and I reach the end of my book, I climb out of the tub and dry myself.  Lathering my body in my sweet pea lotion, I pull on my pajamas and contemplate going to bed.  It’s still early, though, and since I’m not tired, I decide to do some tidying.

I’m halfway through washing my kitchen floor when my phone rings.  It’s after nine at night, so the only person it could be is work, however they know I’m not available for on-call because of Elody.  Especially night shift.

“Hello,” I say, pressing the green tick on my phone to accept the call without glancing at the screen.

“You answered.” 

Brock.

Shit.  Why didn’t I look to see who was calling?  I’m such an idiot.

“I’m sorry, who is this?” I ask, acting dumb, stalling for time.  Maybe I can give myself an English accent and pretend he got the wrong number?

“Are you free to talk?” he asks,

No, I am not.

“Yes.”

Damn you, Cassi!

“Good.”  I can hear the smile in his voice, and I want to rip my lips off when I feel them tilt in return.  “How was your day?”

“Fine, thank you.”

“That’s good.  Mine was busy, as usual.  Thanks for asking,” he says dryly.

“What do you want, Brock?”

“I want a lot of things, Cassidy,” he says seductively.  “Whether or not you let me have them, is up to you.”