Shackled: A Stepbrother Romance Novel (10 page)

I
was just pulling
a shirt over my head when the door flew open and my mom charged in, her eyes wide with anger. I immediately froze, terrified that Jonathan had somehow tipped them off or she had put it together herself.

Had we left any evidence of last night behind in the kitchen? I hadn’t even thought to ask him if he cleaned it up.

While I waited for her to say something or shout or do
anything
, I noticed her balled fists shaking by her sides.

Oh god.

I had buried the letter in the bottom of my bag and left it at home to avoid Jonathan getting his hands on it. I hadn’t even considered the possibility of my mom finding it. Righteous anger flared at the thought of her going through my stuff and I tensed my shoulders, preparing for the fight.

“Is this real?” she asked, her voice eerily calm as she raised her clenched fist in the air. “You dropped out of college?”

“Yes.”

Her jaw dropped and she slowly shook her head. “I can’t believe this. I expected more from you.”

I couldn’t remember ever seeing her look so angry and so disappointed at the same time. She waved the letter in her hand and opened her mouth as if she was about to start ranting, but I sharply cut her off before she got the chance.

“Why were you going through my bag?”

“I was putting your clothes away!” she bit back, scoffing and shaking her head. “I wasn’t snooping; I was just doing something nice for you!”

Regardless of her intentions, her actions were still wrong. Blinded by rage both at her and myself, I started to fight back.

“You had no business going through my bag and I
don’t
need you to put my clothes away for me. I’m not a child!”

“I beg to differ!” she screamed. “You obviously can’t be trusted to make adult decisions by yourself. When the
hell
were you going to tell me about this? Was it going to be your Christmas present to me?”

The sarcastic tone she had taken was only pissing me off more. I opened my mouth to retort but Gerald stepped in, holding up his hands while Jonathan lingered in the doorway.

“Darling, you need to calm down and think—”

“Don’t you
dare
tell me to calm down,” she hissed, pointing a finger at her fiancé. “How you choose to handle your son is on you, but this is
my
daughter.”

Jonathan stepped into the room then, a frown on his face. I swallowed hard when I realized he was only in his boxers, wishing he would have taken advantage of my mom ripping into me and gotten some pants. Because this
really
didn’t look good.

As if she could read my mind, my mom’s eyes locked on Jonathan and she snapped, “Put some clothes on! That’s hardly appropriate.”

Jonathan smirked. “That’s funny coming from you considering you
just
said that how I’m
‘handled’
is on my dad.”

I would have closed my eyes as he purposely raised her hackles, but I was too caught up in the train wreck to look away. Her eyes widened at his disrespectful tone, and then she spun around to face me.

If only she hadn’t let her eyes scan the room as she did that.

If only Jonathan had thought to put the fucking shackles back in his bag after he released me.

Her anger morphed into a look of disgust as she walked towards the discarded pile of chains and she picked up one end, looking back at us with a horrified expression. Jonathan’s face had drained of color and his mouth opened, presumably to force out an explanation, but nothing came out.

“What the hell is this?” she asked, looking between the two of us before looking back to the chain.

I couldn’t even wager a guess as to what was going through her mind, but I knew it wasn’t anything good. Jonathan was still caught in freeze-frame, mouth hanging open and eyes wide with panic, so I nervously choked out, “It’s nothing.”

She ignored me. “Where did it come from?”

Gerald strolled forward to lift the other end of the chain and inspect the shackle that had been attached to the end. They both turned to Jonathan, knowing damn well that it wouldn’t have been me who welded the cuff on.

“Son? What is this?”

I watched the emotions rapidly fly over his face. The muscles of his throat worked as he swallowed roughly and his jaw ticked as he clenched and unclenched it. I could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he quickly formulated a lie. He could do it, I knew he could. He could come up with an excuse—just something to throw them off temporarily so we could handle one problem at a time.

“I’m in love with your daughter.”

My jaw dropped. The truth was pretty much the last thing I expected and it was
definitely
the last thing I wanted to hear come out of his mouth right then. Wasn’t he supposed to be the one who would come up with excuses and lie flawlessly? Why did he have to do this
now?

“
Excuse
me? What does that—
Oh, my god
,” she hissed in disgust as she dropped the chain to the floor. “This is—This is a
sex
thing. You!” she shouted, pointing her finger in Jonathan’s direction as her nostrils flared with anger. “I let you into my
home
—I trusted you out here alone with my daughter and you used the opportunity to force yourself on her?!”

“I strongly suggest you calm down before you say something you regret,” Gerald said darkly as he dropped his own end of the chain. “I don’t know what this is, but don’t you fucking
dare
imply that my son would do something like that! Fiona?”

“He didn’t force me,” I quickly confirmed.

Well, okay. Maybe he
had
kind of forced me to be stuck with him for a few days, but that was as far as it had gone. And I certainly wasn’t going to point that out with my mother looking like she was ready to either slap the hell out of Jonathan or call the police.

Jonathan was oddly silent and I glanced over to see his hands balled into fists at his sides. He was clearly holding himself back from blowing up, but his expression betrayed his rage.

“I told you I loved her and you think I would
force
myself on her?” he asked incredulously, doing a remarkably good job at keeping most of the anger out of his voice. “I understand that you’re angry and this is a lot to drop on you at once, but you’ve been the closest thing I’ve ever had to a mother and you think it’s okay to blindly accuse me of
rape?
What the
hell
is wrong with you?”

Something shifted in her eyes, so slight that I nearly missed it. She slightly deflated and let out a long, slow breath before she said, “I’m sorry, Jonathan.”

He nodded, but I could see on his face that he wasn’t going to accept it so easily. When I looked to Gerald and saw the dark look on his face, I realized that he wasn’t going to either.

“I think we should pack up and continue this at home,” he said, breaking the tense silence. “The ride will give everyone a chance to cool down so we can discuss everything like adults.”

I nodded in agreement, but knew better than to think that my mom would be any more calm at home than she was here. The only reason she was keeping her mouth shut now was likely due to shock—both from finding out about Jonathan and I and then being reprimanded for her accusations.

“Get your stuff. I’ll be in the car.”

She left the room without so much as a glance back and Gerald rushed after her, stopping briefly in the doorway to look back at us as he said, “Make it quick.”

Once we heard the front door slam shut, Jonathan immediately turned and pulled me into his arms. While my body screamed at me to take the comfort, my mind was too busy trying to process everything and demanded space.

“Let go,” I mumbled, shoving him back and ignoring the hurt look in his eyes. “Why the fuck would you tell her that?”

“I couldn’t think of an excuse, I’m sorry.”

I covered my face with my hands and shook my head miserably. “Oh, my god, I can’t believe this is happening.”

“She’ll calm down.”

“No, she won’t,” I said with a dark chuckle. “You said
‘love’
and she heard
‘rape’
. Do you honestly think this is going to go any better when we get home? She’s just going to store it up during the ride and explode as soon as we walk though the door.”

He was clearly torn between wanting to assure me that it would be all right and accepting the reality of our situation, his frown deepening as he thought hard about what I said. When a few moments passed and he still hadn’t spoken, I dismissed him with a wave.

“Just go pack. The longer we keep her waiting, the worse this is going to be for me.”

Jonathan gave me a look as if I’d kicked his puppy, but he eventually backed away and went to gather his belongings. I used the brief moment of privacy to mentally pull myself together—fighting the ridiculous urge to just break down and cry.

I knew it was going to be rough, but it shouldn’t have been
this
bad. Maybe it wouldn’t have been if I had just come clean in the first place instead of trying to find the right moment to tell her. But that option was long gone, not even worth thinking about anymore.

As I hastily shoved my clothes into my bag, a thought occurred to me. The majority of my anger wasn’t coming from her digging through my stuff or from Jonathan or from being disappointed in myself for not making college work—it came from her complete lack of faith in my decision.

And somehow, her reaction was
exactly
what I needed to squash the few lingering doubts in my mind that said this might have been a mistake.

Because it
wasn’t
a mistake.

I made the right decision based on what
I
wanted in life. Not what
she
wanted.

While I still felt helpless in terms of what I would be facing when we got home, that little bit of clarity made everything feel different. Because regardless of what happened next, I knew I would have the strength and certainty to stand by my choice.

W
ell
. She totally called it.

As soon as the most awkward car ride in the history of the world was over and we got back to the house, Leslie turned off the ignition and rushed like a bat out of hell to open the front door. The she folded her arms across her chest and stared hard at Fiona as she miserably walked the plank into the house.

I couldn’t fucking believe it.

Then again, I kind of could. Fiona had been right—Leslie had
way
too much time to sit and stew during the car ride back to the house. All that anger simmering under the heavy silence was a recipe for disaster.

Judging by the fact that Leslie didn’t even look at me, I could guess that she had chosen to focus solely on Fiona dropping out of college. At least for the moment. Which was understandable considering she was under the impression that the shackles had been meant for sex, not just for keeping her daughter in the cabin in the first place.

So, yeah. It was pretty logical for her mom not to want to think about that.

After grabbing Fiona’s bag from the trunk, Dad gave me a quick pat on the back before jogging up the steps, just barely catching the door before it slammed shut behind Leslie. I briefly considered hauling ass and avoiding the shit storm, but I couldn’t afford to be a coward now. Not when things were still so fragile between Fiona and I.

If there was ever a time when she needed me to stand up and support her like she had done for me so many times over the years, it was now. So I ignored my rising dread and walked inside.

I could tell by the slight distance of the shouting that they had moved into the kitchen. I dropped my bag by the stairs and made my way there, though I lingered near the entrance instead of going straight in. I wanted Fiona to know I was here for her without outright intruding in their argument.

I wasn’t sure how much yelling they managed to get in while I was outside, but I came upon the room just in time to hear Leslie bark, “My house, my rules!”

“That’s not fair! I—”

“You don’t get to tell me about what’s fair! You have no idea what the real world is like—you were handed
everything
and you just threw it away the moment things got tough!”

“I didn’t throw anything away! It’s not like I just woke up one day and said,
‘Oh, I think I’ll drop out of college today.’
I’ve been thinking about this for
months!
I’m sorry that you don’t agree with my decision, but it’s
my
life. Not yours!”

I couldn’t help it; I smiled. Fiona’s eyes were lit up with righteous anger and hearing her standing up to her irrational mother was simultaneously making me proud and turning me on. Which was really terrible timing, but I really couldn’t control it. However, I could ignore it.

“
Your
life, huh? You’re right; it
is
your life. So I hope you have a hell of a good plan,” Leslie said, her voice so quiet and calm that I felt a cold chill rise up my spine. Her eyes flickered to me and narrowed before turning back to her daughter. “Because you sure as hell aren’t staying here.”

“
What?
”

“You heard me, Fiona. I did my job. I raised you, I sent you to college. I will
not
continue to support you.”

“Leslie, stop and think about this.”

She turned towards my dad and shook her head. “I have.”

“Mom, I’m going to get a job. I’ll pay rent. I just—”

“You just
nothing!
I will
not
have you living under my roof and draining my resources when I know about the-the
sick
things you two are doing,” she said, pointing her finger between Fiona and I. “This needs to stop.
Now.
”

“I don’t fucking think so,” I chimed in with a scoff.

Oh, man, if looks could kill.

“Watch your mouth,” Leslie chided before turning her scowl in Fiona’s direction. “You’ve already broken my heart by dropping out. Are you going to ruin my engagement now, too?”

“You’re doing a pretty good job of that yourself,” Dad said darkly, drawing everyone’s attention back to him. “So is that what you really think? If you go to college; you’re something. If you don’t, then you can’t make anything out of your life?”

Dad was outwardly calm, but I could see just how angry he was on Fiona’s behalf. After all, he had dropped out of college once upon a time as well. He was nearly finished with the education he needed to become a lawyer when he realized that it wasn’t the life he wanted. While he was contemplating leaving school, his girlfriend at the time—my mother—told him she was pregnant.

And as a student with no income, he couldn’t afford to support a family. So he dropped out and by the time my mom was hitting the second trimester of her pregnancy with me, Dad had moved them back to his hometown and landed a job in the very same garage that I worked in now.

Dad always said it was fate. A sign from the universe that his gut instincts were right and if he’d ever been given the chance to do it all over again, he wouldn’t have changed a damn thing.

I assumed Leslie knew about that story if the way her face fell was any indication.

“Gerald, no. That’s not what I meant. But she’ll never find a decent job without a degree.”

“You say that like it’s a guarantee,” I chimed in, regretting my words when I saw Fiona flinch. A small part of me recognized that she didn’t want me interfering any more than I already had, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself from continuing. “Do you know how many college graduates are unemployed?”

“It doesn’t matter, it’s a foot in the door! Was this your idea? You couldn’t make something out of your own life so now you need to drag my daughter down with you?”

“Don’t speak to my son like that!” Dad roared, silencing Leslie with a stormy glare. “What was it you said earlier? About how I raise my son is my business and how you raise Fiona is yours? What happened to that?”

“Then stop arguing with me about my decision! Find someone else to take you in. You aren’t welcome to live here.”

“She’s your
daughter
, Leslie!”

“She
left college
, Gerald! All my hopes and dreams for her just thrown right out the window and she doesn’t even
care!
” Leslie shouted before running her hands over her face. “I can’t do this. I
can’t
support you, Fiona.”

My dad was shaking his head incredulously and I glanced over at Fiona, who had slunk further into the kitchen in what appeared to be an attempt to hide. There were tears rolling down her face and the sight was like a punch to the stomach—the urge to go over and comfort too strong to fight.

But as my feet started to move, I tuned back in to the conversation and froze.

“Then you do it! Start bringing in more money from that goddamn garage and support her! Because I sure as hell can’t afford to without a job!”

Whoa, what?

I frowned, taking in her last sentence. Dad and I had only been living here for a few weeks, but she had been going to work every morning as if nothing was wrong and hadn’t said a word about losing her job. What the hell was going on?

Dad’s anger seemed to cool to a sizzle as he asked, “What are you talking about?”

“I got laid off three weeks ago,” she admitted softly, her tone still sharp with anger but her eyes resigned. “I’ve been going out every day looking for another one, but no one will even give me an interview. Apparently previous experience isn’t enough anymore.”

Something Leslie said lit a spark in Fiona and I watched her hastily rub the tears from her eyes before stepping back into the conversation.

“That’s the problem with this
‘family,’
” she spat the word, disgusted. “There are too many fucking secrets! Why didn’t you tell anyone you were laid off?”

“You didn’t tell me you dropped out!”

“And you didn’t tell me you were engaged to the father of the man I love!”

My heart pounded hard when I realized the distinction of what she said.

Love
. Present tense.

I couldn’t help but to crack a smile, but when she looked over at me, it instantly dropped. Regardless of her tense, something else was wrong. It was written all over her face and her expression was clearly being directed at
me
. Not her mother.

“I’ve had enough of this,” Fiona said, throwing her hands into the air and storming out of the room. She rushed down the hallway with her phone in her hand and I felt a small part of me die because I recognized what was about to happen.

She was going to leave and I was pretty damn sure that she wasn’t going to let me go with her.

But that didn’t stop me from rushing out after her when she came breezing down the hall with her luggage in tow and went straight for the front door. Dad and Leslie continued their argument in the kitchen, their voices drowning out as I got further away.

“Fiona. Fiona—
Stop!
” I growled as I gripped her arm and slammed the front door closed behind me. “Where are you going?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m not welcome here.”

“Let me get my bag.”

“No.”

Ah, there it was. Called that one.

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because this-this
thing
between us is bullshit!” she shouted, gesturing wildly between the two of us as she looked up at me imploringly, begging me to agree with her.

Which—No. Never going to happen.

“You didn’t think it was bullshit last night,” I hissed as I tightened my grip on her arm. “Or even a few hours ago when you were spreading your legs for me.”

When her other hand raised to slap me, I was prepared for it. I grabbed her wrist and swiftly spun us around, pressing her arms against the door while I caged her body in with my own.

“Where is this coming from?” I softly asked as I loosened my grip, hoping not to hurt her. “I’m sorry if I made this worse for you. I didn’t know what to do. Fuck, I
still
don’t know what to do.”

“You can start by letting go of me.”

I respected her wishes and released her, watching her face closely as a flurry of emotions flashed over it. When she settled on anger, I knew this wasn’t going to end well for me.

“I’m leaving. Don’t call me.”

“You know I’m not just going to let you walk away like this,” I pointed out, smiling a little just at the sheer ridiculousness of the idea. “Especially not after what you said to your mom in there.”

It took a moment for the recognition to dawn, but after it did, she just shook her head. “What I said doesn’t matter. I can’t do this with you, Jonathan. I-I know myself well enough to know that I’ll never get over what you did to me. We’re finished.”

I couldn’t wrap my head around anything she was saying. I knew it was just a matter of the shit hitting the fan all at once and overwhelming her, and that the real anger here was directed at her mom, but I thought we had managed to get past most of this the night before.

In the back of my mind, I began to wonder if this was even worth it. Would she ever
really
forgive me? Could I chance the possibility that she would throw my mistake back in my face any time something went wrong in her life?

After a moment of thought and a single glance at her tear-streaked face, I realized it was a risk I was willing to take.

“Look, I know that I’m an asshole. I know I fucked up. But you have to give me a chance to make it right. Fiona—”

“You can’t make it right, Jonathan!” she yelled, her calm demeanor breaking once again. “Time machines don’t exist and there’s nothing you can do to take it back! Just—
God
, for one fucking second can you just imagine if the roles had been reversed? Can you imagine how you would have felt or are you so arrogant that you think it wouldn’t have affected you?”

The nightmare I had about Fiona and Chuck came rushing back to my head and my stomach turned from the memory.

Yes, I could certainly imagine that.

“Then give me a chance to do better. To make amends. Just tell me what to do. Tell me what you want from me!” I practically begged, fighting back to urge to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until she told me what she needed.

She was quiet for a long moment, just staring at me with those wide, confused eyes. When the sound of a car barreling down the road through the snow hit both of our ears, it seemed to snap her out of her trance. She glanced back at the street and when I realized it was Brenda’s car pulling up to the curb, I knew that I’d lost her.

“I don’t know what I want from you. That’s the problem,” she admitted, not bothering to meet my eyes as she began to pull her suitcase to the sidewalk. She turned back to stare at my feet as she said, “I have to go. I hope you have a good Christmas.”

With that, she spun around on her heel and marched down the sidewalk, leaving me to watch as she miserably walked away from her home.

I had no idea what to do. I couldn’t even figure out how to fix
my
fuck-up and now I needed to try to find a way to repair the rift between her and Leslie as well.

There was one thing I was sure of though.

If Fiona wasn’t welcome in this house, I sure as hell wasn’t going to stay here either.

I marched back inside and went straight for the kitchen, not surprised to find my dad leaning over the counter and blankly staring down into a cup of coffee. He looked just as miserable and lost as I felt, but I refused to let that sway my decision.

“Dad.”

He looked up, giving me a tight smile before he reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. Apparently, I didn’t even need to ask. He already had guessed that this was coming.

“Just don’t trash the place, yeah? The realtor is swinging by in a couple weeks to start showing the place,” he said after he unhooked the key to our old house from his keyring and slid it towards me on the counter.

“So you’re sticking around,” I noted dryly, sparing a quick glance down the hall where I knew Leslie was likely fuming in their bedroom. “Got to say—I’m a little surprised.”

He shrugged. “Tough times can break a relationship, but they can also make them stronger. It’s never easy to work through, but nothing worth having ever is.”