Page 13 of Dare To Break

I don’t realize I’m crying until I taste the wetness on my lips. I reach for the pillow and drag it over my head to drown out the sound of my agonized sobs.

Chapter 8

Eli

I stand at my bedroom window and watch as Elena and Arabella climb into the little sports car. Their voices reach me, happy and excited—probably at the thought of spending my dad’s money—and anger unfurls in the pit of my stomach. It should be my mother in that car, not the money-hungry bitch and her daughter. Why did the platinum Barbie’s mom get to live in the house my mom spent years turning into a home? Why does she get to have her mom, while mine is rotting in the ground?

I wait until the car disappears down the drive, then turn away from the window. Time to find out what my new stepsister is all about. I’m confident they’re going to be out at the mall all day, and my dad is at work, so I don’t need to worry about being disturbed. I have hours to waste, and I know exactly what I’m going to do.

I leave my room and walk down the hallway to the one my dad has given to Arabella. The door is ajar, so I push it open and walk in. The smell inside hits me immediately. That same floral scent that was clinging to her skin at dinner last night. The memory of pinning her against the sink in the restroom at the restaurant wakes my dick up, and I scowl.

I’m not attracted to her. It’s her fear that turned me on, that’s all.

I kick the door shut and move deeper into the room and turn in a slow circle. There are boxes stacked neatly in one corner. She’s left the door to her closet open and there are three hoodies hanging up and those godawful yoga pants she seems to live in folded on a shelf. I turn to the dresser and pull open the top drawer. It’s full of underwear—bras and panties. Nothing exciting, all pretty plain. I don’t even bother rifling through them, shoving the drawer shut and opening the next. There’s barely anything else to be found. She either doesn’t have much in the way of clothes, or they’re all still packed.

I look at the bed. It’s neat and tidy, unlike mine, which I just crawl out of and leave. I don’t see the point in making my bed when I’m going to mess it up again later. But that’s not why I’m staring at it.

There’s something about this girl. Something that suggests she’s a diary keeper and I want it. I want to see what she hides behind her innocent exterior.

Where would she hide it?

My gaze drops to the carpet. There’s a small gap between the base of the bed and the floor. Big enough to slide a notebook beneath it, for sure. Lowering myself to my knees, I slide my hand beneath the bed, and— bingo! My fingers touch something hard. I flatten my hand on top of it and drag it out.

A pink and purple notebook with a little lock holding it closed. I can’t stop an eye roll. I’ve never understood why people think locks on books work. It’s literally paper and cardboard. A sharp yank and it’s ripped away from the cover. I pick up the broken pieces of the lock and pocket them, then stand. Tucking the book beneath my arm, I walk out of her room and return to mine.

I have a lock on my door, which I twist as soon as I’m inside. I have some reading to do, and I don’t want to be disturbed.

***

“Eli?” My dad’s voice shatters the silence, and I look up from the diary. “Eli!” His voice is getting closer.

I swing off my bed and pull my nightstand away from the wall, place the diary behind it and then reposition it, before crossing the room and unlocking my door. I’m back on my bed when my dad knocks.

“It’s open,” I call out.

The door swings open, and he steps inside. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Oh?”

“I’m sorry. I know you’re not going to like this. I’d hoped to be able to take the day off work and drive you both to school tomorrow—”

“No.” I don’t need to hear the rest of the sentence to know what he’s about to say.

“Eli.” His sigh is heavy. “Can you please meet me halfway on this? I know you’re punishing me for marrying Elena without telling you first. I understand that you’re angry, but that’s my fault, not hers. And certainly not her daughter’s. It’s going to be hard enough for Arabella to settle into a new school as it is. Add the fact that it’s residential, and full of rich kids who have never had to struggle a day in their lives. She’s going to need a friendly face.”

“I’m not her friend.”

“But you could be. You have so much in common.”

I snort.

“I need you to do this for me, Son. You complained about leaving your car here last semester. You can drive to school. That way, you have your car and won’t be stuck on site and reliant on Kellan the entire school year.”

I hate it when people use my wants against me. I couldn’t bring my car to school last semester because my dad insisted on driving me. That meant I was stuck on school grounds, aside from the times I went out with Kellan, and it drove me crazy. If I have my car, I can get away whenever I need to.

“Fine. But if she’s not ready when I want to leave, she can find her own way.”

He’s unable to hide the relief in his voice. “Thank you, Son. I’m sure if you give her a chance—”

---