Page 32 of Cruel Steps

Colt: The step-sister?

Holden: Yep. I’ll text ya later.

Colt: Later.

Placing my mask back on, I headed to my room, taking the back stairs. This house was crazy with the amount of rooms and levels it had. Having multiple ways to get to my room felt ostentatious, but it worked in my favor when I wanted to sneak into my room without alerting Emerson. The walls in this house were thinner than I expected a baby mansion to have.

I glanced around at the boxes I hadn’t unpacked, anger filling me at being stuck here. I knew in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t that big of a deal. But having the choice taken away from me irked me the most.

Peeking into the bathroom, I found it empty, so I stepped in and locked the door. After I took a piss, I washed my hands and dried them on the washcloth sitting on the counter. I flicked off the light as Emerson’s voice floated under the door. Checking her side was still locked, I leaned against the counter to listen.

“Taylor, what am I going to do?”

Emerson’s voice moved, growing louder at times and quieter at others, almost like she was pacing.

“No. Worse. At home. Yeah, I know. I can’t help but feel like it’s my fault.”

Wait… why did she think that? Was Hope right?

“Yeah, yeah. I know, but it can’t be a coincidence...” Her words faded, and I leaned forward like that would make a difference. She passed by again, and I caught the end of her next sentence.

“…I just hope it’s enough to get under Hope’s skin.”

Fuck. Hope was right. Emerson wasn’t who she pretended to be.

Anger burned away all the lingering lust, and I stalked back to my room. I didn’t need to hear anything else.

The game had just changed, and this time, I knew exactly what play to call.

CHAPTER

FOURTEEN

EMERSON

I didn’t want to admit it, but Hope got to me. And it wasn’t only her cruel words that sent me spiraling. The aftermath of the audition and dinner combo was too much for my fragile confidence, so I hid in my room all weekend.

I ignored my phone, the knocks at the door, and everyone in the house. I lived off protein bars and stale crackers I found at the bottom of a dance bag when the hunger pains got too intense. By Monday morning, I was sick of my own company and perhaps my smell.

Climbing out of bed, I dragged myself into the shower. Everything hurt from lying in bed all weekend, and I regretted letting Hope and her words get to me. If I wanted to take her down, I had to stop letting what she said about me matter. But the little girl who’d been best friends with her once struggled to let go.

She’s not that girl anymore; holding onto her ghost only hurts you.

Turning on the water, I discarded my clothes on the floor and stepped into the shower. I stood under the rain head for a few minutes and let the water run over me. Everything felt so heavy this morning, and I knew if I didn’t snap out of it, I was dangerously close to slipping into depression. Maybe I should call that therapist I’d seen freshman year.

Reaching for the shampoo, I screamed when a shadow appeared in the corner of my vision. Throwing the bottle, I covered myself and huddled back in the corner.

“Really?” Holden grumbled, picking up the shampoo that had bounced off his chest. His very naked and muscular chest.

“What are you doing?” I shrieked.

He lifted a brow and stepped into the shower. That was when I realized he wasn’t just shirtless, but naked. His glorious cock hung between his thick, muscular legs, and I couldn’t stop myself from staring. Holden smirked at my response and stepped under the second shower head.

“You do know how showers work. Right?”

I stuttered, thrown entirely off balance by his arrival. It had nothing to do with his naked body. Absolutely nothing.

“Y-yes, of course I do! I just don’t know why you’re in mine.”

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