Wrecked: A Stepbrother Romance Novel (5 page)

BOOK: Wrecked: A Stepbrother Romance Novel
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“I thought that eventually you’d see how ridiculous you were being!” he fired back angrily, stepping forward into my personal space and lowering his voice as he continued, “We aren’t family, Vanessa. Our parents may have gotten married, but we were
teenagers
. They knew we weren’t going to ever feel like real siblings. There’s no reason why—”

“Maybe not to you,” I interrupted him, shaking my head back and forth in hopes that he wouldn’t continue. “Look, I get why you feel that way. But I see it differently. It just… wouldn’t work between us.”

“Like
hell
. I’m no more of a brother to you than you are a sister to me. The only reason you pushed me away was because you seem to think that you don’t deserve me.”

With the knee-jerk way I flinched from the words, he might as well have slapped me. It wasn’t so much the words themselves that cut so deeply—even though they were true—it was the defeated resignation in his voice as he said them. Like he had managed to figure it out long ago and was disappointed that I still hadn’t. Or maybe he was just disappointed that I hadn’t owned up to it.

Either way, I hardened my gaze and shook my head firmly.

“That’s not—”

“True?” he finished for me with a tight smile and a humorless laugh. He let out a sigh before he turned around, his hand lingering on the doorknob, ready to flee. “No, no, of course not. How could that possibly be true when you were so far out of my league? I never stood a chance with a girl like you.”

“Brandon, stop. That’s bullshit and—”

He continued on, ignoring my outburst and cutting me off again. “And now? Now it looks like the tables have turned. Maybe
I’m
the one who is finally out of
your
league and you…. You’re just a lush with even lower self-worth than before.”

My jaw dropped, unable to comprehend the fact that out of everyone I knew, it was
Brandon
who was insulting me this way. He glanced back just long enough for me to recognize the way his eyes twitched with the pain of regret, but it was already too late to take it back.

Not that he intended to. After all, it was true.

Brandon carefully placed the mask of indifference back on and turned to look me directly in the eye as he said, “I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

“And whose fault is that?”

If he hadn’t cut me out of his life in the first place, none of this heartbreaking conversation would even be happening.

“It doesn’t matter. Maybe it was better this way. Because I’m completely done with you.”

I moved to cross my arms over my chest, but somehow wound up wrapping them around my waist, hugging myself for comfort as I tried to will away the tears that were clouding my vision.

“That’s fine because I never want to see you again,” I whispered, giving myself a silent pat on the back for keeping my voice relatively steady.

“Good. Then for once, we’re on the exact same page.”

He twisted the knob and started up the stairs, not bothering to turn back and look at me as he said, “Good-bye Vanessa.”

And just like that, I watched as my own ridiculous actions caused Brandon to walk out of my life for a second time.

March 2015


A
ttention passengers
. Please make sure your trays are in the upright position and your seatbelts are securely fastened as we begin our descent to St. Thomas Island. If your flight is a connection…”

The voice of the flight attendant drowned out as panic began rushing through my system like wildfire. Logically, I knew I still had a car ride until I was face-to-face with him, but the reality that I was actually going through with this was enough to make me internally freak the fuck out.

“Would you like a paper bag, dear?”

I chuckled nervously, turning to the polite gentleman next to me and shaking my head.

“No, thanks. I’m fine. I just… need to calm down.”

He hesitated, but eventually placed a hand on my elbow and patted it twice, a gesture that was as comforting as intended.

“Just relax. Everyone makes mistakes and if your lost love isn’t man enough to forgive you, he ain’t worth your time or your tears.”

I hadn’t even realized that tears were starting to form in my eyes until he pointed it out and I hastily wiped them away, nodding at his words and quietly thanking him for being so kind. My stomach lurched as the plane dipped further forward and I leaned back in my seat, struggling to even out my breathing as I prepared myself for the possibility of either a smooth landing… or a painful, fiery crash.

Chapter 7

March 2015

I
was
in a daze when I finally stepped off the plane and made my way into the airport. I numbly followed the signs to the baggage pickup and waited patiently nearby until I spotted my suitcase. Afterwards, I took a deep breath and followed the group of people all heading towards the exit.

My eyes scanned the crowd of people waiting at arrivals until they finally landed on a well-dressed, stoic man holding a sign with my last name on it. I approached him warily, watching his face for any sign of recognition.

“Uhh… Hi there.”

His eyes quickly looked me up and down, one eyebrow cocked high with what may have been surprise. I couldn’t be entirely sure though, considering the blank look on the rest of his face.

“You are Miss Jensen?”

“Yep, that’s me,” I confirmed with a nervous chuckle. “Is Brandon here?”

“Mr. Jensen is waiting for your arrival at his home. Come with me.”

The sign was swiftly tucked under one arm while the other reached for the handle on my luggage, dragging it away before I even fully comprehended what was happening. I moved fast to keep up with him, trying not to let myself be distracted with looking around as we stepped outside the airport and into the warm air of the Virgin Islands.

Guess I look pretty ridiculous in this coat,
I thought with a frown, glancing down critically at the outfit I left New York in. I looked up when I heard the chirp of a car alarm. With a polite smile to the driver, I slid into the back of the black sedan and waited.

After my bag was secured in the trunk and the driver was behind the wheel, we were on our way. I fidgeted in my seat, looking around at everything we passed and trying not to think about who I was going to see. It worked like a charm for a good while, until I felt the car slowing to a stop and the engine switched off.

“What’s going on?” I asked with a frown, gazing out the tinted windows at the dock we were parked beside.

“Mr. Jensen resides on a small island just off the coast,” he explained before getting out of the car and leaving me alone. The door abruptly opened and I startled a little, clutching at my racing heart before I stepped out and followed him to the trunk.

He nodded his head towards the dock, dragging my wheeled bag behind him as he said, “This boat will take you there. If you are prone to sea-sickness, try not to worry. It’s a very short ride.”

I nodded, spotting the boat then looking past at the scattered islands just barely visible in the distance. “Which one?”

He stopped walking for a moment, scanning the horizon for a brief moment before pointing. “That one.”

I wasn’t even sure why I asked because from our position, all the islands looked identical. But a strange feeling occurred when I considered the fact that this bit of ocean was all that separated me from Brandon.

He was
right there
. Maybe he was staring out into the distance at that same moment, wondering if I’d taken him up on his offer or not. Just… waiting. For me.

“Miss Jensen?”

The driver’s irritated tone pulled me out of my thoughts and I felt a bit of heat rise to my cheeks before I cleared my throat and followed him up the dock. He traded a few words with the man standing beside the boat and when the stranger gave me a kind smile, I returned it with ease. With nothing more than a parting nod, the driver strolled back down the deck and left me without any other option than to woman up and get on the damn boat.

“It should only take us fifteen minutes, Miss,” the man explained as he reached for my hand, assisting me in stepping down before he hopped up and carried my luggage down with ease. “My name is Hunter.”

“Vanessa. It’s nice to meet you.”

He smiled brightly and gestured to the small bench, eyebrows raised expectantly. I took my bag and rolled it over, plopping down and holding onto the handle to keep it from rolling while he prepared to set sail.

While Hunter seemed far more pleasant than the driver, he was unfortunately too focused on his work to engage in small talk. Which was fine right up until the point that the boat started moving and my frazzled emotions took a sharp turn to dread.

Of course, it didn’t come close to comparing to the dread I felt five years ago when I first got the news of his disappearance.

March 2010

C
ell phones are pure evil
.

The thought was accompanied by a long, irritated groan as I rolled over and blindly reached for the source of the noise. I pulled it from the charger and swiped, not even bothering to remove my sleep mask to see who was calling before I pressed it to my ear.


What?

“Vanessa, get up. Brandon’s missing.”

The note of alarm in my mother’s voice registered before her words did. I bolted upright in bed, gripping the mask and throwing it off, then taking a brief moment to clear my throat before responding.

“Wait, wait. Say that again?”

“Brandon. Is. Missing,” she said, putting a hard edge on every word. “Harold can’t get up with him.”

Not hearing from Brandon was nothing unusual to me, but my mom’s panic seemed to be contagious. I swung my legs out of bed and swiftly started looking for a pair of pants.

“Was he supposed to call or something?”

“He calls us every Sunday, even if it’s just to say that he can’t talk,” she told me, pausing for a moment before she whispered, “He missed an important meeting last week and he hasn’t been into the office since last Thursday.”

That was when the severity finally sank in.

Brandon missing a phone call because he was busy was understandable.

Brandon missing work was unheard of.

“Where are you?”

“We just got into the city maybe an hour ago. We’re at the police stations now—Harold’s filing a missing persons report.”

Her voice choked up at the end and even though I already felt like someone had punched me in the gut, the intensity doubled at the sound.

“Text me the address. I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“Please be safe.”

I felt my own throat starting to close, but I forced myself to choke out, “I will, I promise. I love you, mom.”

“I love you, too.”

I clutched the phone tightly while I waited for the address and tried my best to keep a positive attitude. He likely had taken his jet off to some luxurious random island in the middle of nowhere and had no cell signal. Maybe something happened at the office that pissed him off and he just needed a break.

He was
fine
.

He had to be.

N
early a week
after the report was filed, Harold finally got a call.

I managed to swing a few days off and opted to spend as much time as I could with them at their hotel until we either heard something from the police or I inevitably had to go back to work. I was hoping for the former, but not in the form of the call we got.

My mom and I were anxiously twisting our hands together, watching the expressions flicker across Harold’s face as he spoke to the chief of the police department. When the call finally ended, he turned to face us directly—a look of confusion drawing his eyebrows together.

“The search was called off and the file’s been closed.”

“They found him?”

He shook his head slowly. “Not exactly. Nobody’s seen him, but he… Brandon sent a fax to the station asking them to drop the report. He’s not missing. He’s just…”

“Gone.”

I finished the sentence for him, somehow instinctively sensing where he was headed. Harold nodded, confirming what I thought. Mom looked between the two of us, shaking her head in disbelief.

“What do you mean
gone?
Where is he? Can we call him?”

Another shake of the head and the confusion drained from his face, replaced with sadness.

“He said he’d contact us when he was ready. Otherwise… nothing. He just up and left.”

“H-How? Who’s running the company?”

He shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know, dear. According to the police, all we can do now is wait for him to contact us.”

“If he even does,” I mumbled, closing my eyes tightly when I realized I had spoken out loud.

If looks could kill, the one my mom shot me would’ve sent me to the floor. It definitely wasn’t what she wanted to hear—it wasn’t what
any
of us wanted to hear—but I tried to comfort myself with the knowledge that at least he was safe. At least he wasn’t
really
missing.

I just wished he would have told us
why.

March 2015

I
was
grateful to discover that I was apparently
not
the type to get seasick. I managed to spend the entire fifteen minute ride zoning out until Hunter called my name and pointed to the long dock we had nearly reached.

I took a good look around, noting the gorgeous beach stretched out beyond the dock and the trees further up on the island. Setting far enough back to be nestled amongst enough foliage to be nicely shaded was what appeared to be an enormous beach house, the ocean-facing wall of the second floor made almost entirely out of glass.

A daydream about sitting by the glass wall with a book and watching the sun set outside warmed my thoughts, until I caught a flash of movement inside. We weren’t nearly close enough to make out what it was and I tried to rationalize that it was probably just a reflection from the sun, but my intuition told me otherwise.

Brandon.

Hunter was docking the boat when I cautiously stood up, waiting until he gave me an all-clear signal before approaching the side and allowing him to help me up again. He lifted my bag up and I gripped the handle, looking down and waiting for him to join me.

He lifted a hand and pointed down the dock as he said, “Just follow the walkway and ring the doorbell. I’m sure Mr. Jensen is waiting for you inside. Oh, and enjoy your stay.”

Before I could voice a protest, his back was turned to me and he was fussing with the sail on the boat, leaving me standing alone and facing the house with a growing sense of wariness. I took the millionth deep breath of the day and marched forward, refusing to allow myself to be intimidated by a man that I hadn’t even seen in five years.

But if I thought of him as the man I once knew—the man I once loved even though I never admitted it to anyone—it made the walk feel twice as long. It was too soon that I found myself standing in front of the door, my finger hovering over the doorbell button.

I told myself there was no time like the present.

I told myself that there wasn’t any backing out now.

I told myself that even though it’d been years, it was still
Brandon
.

But I couldn’t bring myself to press the button.

My hesitation didn’t matter in the long run because the sound of locks being twisted was enough for me to realize that it
had
been him in the window, watching as the boat arrived with me on it.

It’s just Brandon. The guy who I was friends with in high school. The guy who I’m pretty sure loved me at one point. The guy who disappeared without so much as a fucking phone call. It’s just—

The door swung open and I came face-to-face with reality.

And my jaw dropped in horror.

BOOK: Wrecked: A Stepbrother Romance Novel
6.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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