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Authors: Aya Fukunishi

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BOOK: Stepbrother Fallen
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Penny and I are back at Manda's again for
the second Saturday in a row. She usually only throws her parties
once or twice a month, but tonight is a special occasion. Everyone
who's anyone is here, and on a mission to get wasted and laid.

 

Last Saturday, about an hour after I left
the party, things got a little... weird.

 

"Oh my God, Mad, you should have seen it!"
gushes Penny as we look at the damage. "It's amazing nobody
died!"

 

Penny's right. I'm looking at the wreck of
the kitchen, and if anyone had been in here when the bathtub
fell...

 

So here's what happened. Sometime early in
the evening during last week's party somebody had gone into Manda's
dad's bathroom and decided to have a little fun. They put the plugs
in the bathtub and the his and hers basins, turned the faucets on
full and got the hell out of there. Why? Who the fuck knows. Some
people just want to watch the world burn, as Batman's butler Alfred
would say.

 

The bathtub is one of those big sunken
marble things set into the floor. It's big enough for three people
and probably weighs as much as a fucking car, and it's fed from
some kind of special water tank on the roof that pushes the water
out fast enough to fill the thing in about two minutes. Whoever did
it probably thought it'd just end in a bit of annoying water
damage, but after the water had flowed for a few hours it was
enough to collapse the floor, and take the tub with it. Right into
the middle of the kitchen.

 

You need to see this mess to believe it.
The tub is still completely intact, but it took out the central
island as it came down. There's dust, splintered wood and broken
glass everywhere. It'll take weeks to clean this shit up.

 

Of course Manda knows that's it for her.
Her dad's put up with a lot of shit from her over the years, but
even she knows this is the last straw. He's been away for ten days
working on the merger of two European banks or something, but he's
due home Tuesday. The way Manda sees it she might as well have one
final blowout before the curtain falls on her legendary house
parties.

 

If anything tonight's even more rowdy than
last weekend. Everyone knows this will probably be the last chance
to have a legendary night at the Sloane residence, and everyone
seems a little more keyed up than usual, like it's the last night
before the world ends. We arrived late so we're still sober, but
there are a few people here who arrived in the afternoon and
started drinking like there's no tomorrow.

 

I kinda feel bad for Manda, actually. As I
walk through the house with Penny I can see that the place is a
wreck. Obviously it hasn't been cleaned since last week's rager,
but this is something else. I can see people pissing out the
windows (thank God they're not pissing in), and the carpets are
sticky and wet from what I really hope are spilled drinks. Not for
the first time I wonder why Manda feels she has to put up with
this. I mean, I don't think she even knows half the people who come
to her parties. Why's she so eager for their approval that she'd
let strangers destroy her house?

 

"OK, Pen, can we get the hell out of here?"
I watch as some idiot guy puts out a cigarette on a polished wooden
desktop. "This party's starting to freak me out now."

 

Penny swings her head around with a hunted
expression. "I hear you, Maddy. I feel like I'm gonna get hit with
a chair any minute now. Let's go to the yard."

 

We weave our way towards the back of the house, grabbing a
bottle of red wine from a table as we go. When we pass the kitchen
we see Manda yelling at a bunch of guys sitting naked in the tub in
the middle of the wreckage. She looks to be on the verge of tears
for some reason, and I'm relieved when I see one of her friends (or
at least some girl willing to pretend for the night) arrive to take
care of her. I feel sorry for Manda, but I don't want to
actually
talk
to her.

 

We eventually manage to escape the madness into the yard,
and it's only after we get a breath of the cool night air that we
realize it
stank
inside the house, like a mixture of stale puke, liquor and
feet.

 

"Jesus," I say, sucking in fresh air,
"let's make a pact, Penny. We'll never again set foot in that
disgusting house."

 

Penny nods in agreement. "Manda's dad should just tear it
down and start over. That's just
rank.
God, I can still smell it. Let's get
further away."

 

We walk through the garden until we reach a
koi pond, way at the back beside the outbuilding. The water is
silver in the moonlight, but every few seconds the mouth of a fish
breaks the surface to snatch a floating insect.

 

From here I can see through the windows to
the gym, and for a moment my mind flashes up an unwanted image of
Rafe reclining on the weight bench, Lin's head in his lap as she
noisily sucks him off. I shake it off and take a swig of the
wine.

 

"So how's your little panty burner today?
Still rinsing the beer out of his t-shirt?"

 

I look at Penny. "Huh? Who are we talking
about?"

 

"Rafe, of course! What, you didn't see that
girl lay into him at the last party?"

 

I shake my head.

 

"
God,
Maddy, you missed all the fun, didn't you? I don't know
what the hell was going on, but some drunk Asian chick was
screaming at him for like twenty minutes while he just sat there
playing the piano. Totally blanked her. Eventually some of the
girls had to take her out after she threw her drink at him.
Man,
it was funny! She
was just stamping her little feet and yelling. "Why won't you look
at me?! Everyone wants to fuck me!" It was insane!"

 

I stifle a laugh. I don't like to be mean,
but I'm kinda glad Lin ended up making a fool of herself. It
couldn't have happened to a nicer person.

 

"Damn," I say, "I guess I should have stuck
around longer. Crazy Asian girls, collapsing bathtubs... looks like
that party had something for everyone."

 

"Speaking of which, where did you vanish
off to? I lost you about the time we found Rafe, then you were
gone. Did you get lucky or something?"

 

I know Penny's just teasing me. She knows
the chances of me hooking up with some random guy at a party are
slim to none. "Too much tequila," I lie. "I spent about an hour
wrapped around the toilet, then I dragged my ass home."

 

Penny's my best – well, pretty much my
only –
friend, but there are some secrets
you have to keep even from the people closest to you.
I watched my
stepbrother get half a blowjob, and I liked it
qualified as one of those
secrets.

 

The sound of acoustic guitar drifts across
the garden from the outbuilding, just loud enough to carry over the
distant bass thump of the techno crap they're playing in the house.
After a week of listening to it through my walls I instantly
recognize the song: Rock 'n' Roll Suicide by David Bowie. I'm not a
fan. It gets a bit too shouty towards the end for my tastes, but
whoever's singing this cover version is playing it a little toned
down, like Seu Jorge's Portuguese covers. It's actually pretty nice
and melodic, and...

 

Oh, you have to be kidding me.

 

Penny's noticed too. "Is that Rafe
singing?"

 

It definitely is. After the last time his
voice is burned into my memory, just like his eyes and... another
body part.

 

Penny's already on her feet and picking up
the bottle of wine. "Come on, let's go listen."

 

"Do we have to?" I ask. "Can't we just sit
and listen from here?" I really don't want to have to face Rafe
after what happened earlier today.

 

"Come
oooon
, Maddy, I want to look at some eye candy! Get up." She
reaches down and hauls me from the lawn by my wrists, and I
reluctantly stand.

 

"Five minutes, OK, then I want to get out
of here. This party's already weird enough without having to watch
the Rafe show."

 

We make our way back to the outbuilding,
and again pick our way past the treacherous hot tub and into the
music room. Apart from a few candles someone brought in it looks
exactly the same as it did last weekend. About a dozen people
lounge on the sofas and lay on the floor, but this time Rafe sits
on the piano stool cradling a guitar, finishing up his song as we
walk in.

 

"Ah, her majesty has arrived!" he cries out
as he spots me. He turns to his rapt audience. "You should ask to
see Madison's special panties, guys. They're racy."

 

I picture myself setting Rafe on fire as
everyone turns to me and laughs. I'm guessing they have no idea
what he's talking about, but by now Rafe has them all eating out of
the palm of his hand. They'll laugh at anything that kinda sounds
like it's supposed to be a joke.

 

I step through the lounging bodies until I
reach the little stage area, and as I lean against the piano I can
see Rafe is drunk. He's tilting back and forth on the stool as if
he's on a boat.

 

"What are you doing here again? Who invited
you?" I ask, probably a little more angrily than he deserves.

 

"Invite? I don't need an invite, I'm the
entertainment. Besides, your friend Mandy --"

 

"Manda."

 

"Right, that's what I said. Mandy said I
was welcome anytime. And she gave me her number and tried to kiss
me, so I think she meant it." He shifts in his seat and plucks the
strings of the guitar. "Now gimme some space, Princess, I'm doing
another song." As I turn he reaches out and spanks me on the
ass.

 

"Hey!" I yell, hopping forward.

 

"Nice ass, hot pants," he says, watching me
walk away.

 

Fuck, I'm glad it's dark. I know it's
stupid, but I couldn't help but let a grin appear before I caught
myself.

 

I find a space on the floor between the
sofas as Rafe starts to play another Bowie song, Queen Bitch. His
singing is a little rougher than it was last time, and he vamps
over a couple of lines her can't remember, but he's still doing
pretty well for someone who's clearly had too much to drink.

 

As Rafe continues to sing a crash comes
from the back of the room, and I turn to see a couple of guys
framed in the doorway, silhouetted against the moonlight, stumbling
drunkenly into the room.

 

"Hey Mike, it's the fag room!" yells one of
the guys, his voice carrying over Rafe's singing.

 

"Fuck this queer shit. Gimme some Sabbath!
Wooo!" comes the answering voice.

 

Rafe plays on, ignoring the guys, while a
couple of the girls try to shush them.

 

In the darkness the guys stumble towards
the piano, tripping their way through the audience. A girl lets out
a yelp of pain as one of the guys stands on her leg.

 

As the first guy reaches Rafe and moves
into the light I see it's Mike Bowen, one of the guys on my old
high school football team. Mike's built like a wall and he was kind
of a local hero in high school, but he's also one of those
meatheads who hasn't yet realized that his life has already peaked
before his 18th birthday.

 

My school has a truly shitty football team,
and while Mike may have been one of the better players he'd had no
hope of winning a scholarship on the strength of his talents. In
the weeks since graduation he's begun to realize that a job in his
dad's auto shop is looking more likely than a career in the NFL,
and he hasn't been taking the fall from grace all that well.

 

"Quit it with the faggy music, Nancy," he
says, pushing past Rafe to reach the piano. "It's time for
something cool."

 

Mike starts to bash the keys with his
bunched fists, producing a God-awful racket that drowns out the
music. Rafe keeps playing, but when it becomes clear Mike isn't
going to stop making noise he kicks back his stool, leans in
towards Mike and mutters something in his ear.

 

"Fuck your music, dude," Mike replies to
whatever Rafe said, laughing. "I wanna play!"

 

Rafe shakes his head sadly, grabs Mike by
his collar, hooks a foot behind his legs and tugs him backwards,
sending him tumbling on his ass. All 250 pounds of the linebacker
shakes the floorboards, but seconds later the drunk idiot is back
on his feet and swinging.

 

Rafe, weaving a little and unsteady on his
feet, uses the guitar as a shield, absorbing a poorly timed punch,
then delivers a quick jab to Mike's face that flattens his nose
across his cheek. The guy goes down hard, blinded by the tears in
his eyes, and this time he stays down.

 

"Dude, what the fuck?!" yells Mike's
friend, storming towards Rafe. "You're fucking dead!"

 

I step into his path, trying to block his
way between the sofas. "Hey, settle down!" I yell.

 

"Fuck you, bitch. Get out of my way." The
guy slows, opens his palm and gives me an almighty slap that sends
me sprawling to the ground. I can barely see a thing in the dim
light, but I feel a blow as the back of my head cracks against the
corner of the sofa. The moment I hit the ground I feel a foot
connect with my stomach, hard, and gasp as the wind is knocked out
of me.
BOOK: Stepbrother Fallen
6.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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