Page 16 of His Big Bad Stick

It’s my house. I can enter any fucking room I want, whenever I fucking want.

Simple as that.

I place my hand to the door and swing it open.

Abrielle - Gabrielle without the G - turns, sees me, and jumps.

“You scared me,” she whispers.

“Boo,” I say. “What are you doing in here?”

“You know what? Whatever. Do you want to pick my bedroom for me? Do you think I want to be here? Do you think I’m happy my mother married your father? And, oh, by the way, I just met your father like ten minutes ago!”

“So, what, you’re my stepsister now, huh?” I ask with a cocky smirk.

Abrielle scoffs. “Sure. If that’s how you want to view it. Why does that matter?”

I shut the bedroom door.

Abrielle swallows hard.

Oh, she’s afraid of me.

She probably should be.

“What’s the play here?” I ask. “Is your mother looking for money? A quick million or something from my old man?”

“How would I know that?”

“You have that aura about yourself.”

“And what aura is that?”

“Your hair. Your clothes. Your shitty looking bag. You smell like cheap body spray and a moldy apartment.”

Abrielle gasps.

Her eyes well with tears. Again.

“You’re evil,” she whispers. “You are a scumbag… whoever you are.”

“That’s right. You don’t even know my name. My father is married to your mother. You’re now living in my house. And you don’t even know my name. Isn’t that fucked up?”

“Yes!” Abrielle yells, her voice crackling as she breaks down into tears. “It’s super fucked up! Okay? Is that what you want me to say right now? And, yeah, guess what, I’m poor! Our apartment? It didn’t have electricity. It got shut off. So, yeah, all I have is this bag. That’s it. I can’t control what my mother does. Or why. Happy now? You fucking bastard!”

Tears run down her cheeks and she runs to a window.

She stands there, hugging herself.

I watch the way her fingers dig at herself.

My jaw tightens.

If I even had a morsel of remorse, I’d just cut it in half with my teeth.

I walk toward Abrielle.

My new stepsister?

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