Page 95 of Sweet Little Thing

“I need to show you something,” I told her.

“What?” she asked, her voice shaky. She hadn’t sent me away. She didn’t refuse. She had read my text. She knew why I was here, and she had answered the door anyway.

“This,” I handed her the photos. Without words, she would be able to tell who it was. What she didn’t know. But the explanation of where that little boy was now would be unforgivable. I knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t be able to accept it. Or understand it. I did. I would have done the same as Stone had it been me. But it wasn’t my moral code in question. It was his.

Stone had come into her life because of me. He had exposed lies I hadn’t even known and then taken her from me. I was only being fair, and I had done nothing wrong. But Stone had.

“Who is this?” she shook her head, looking at the photos.

“You can look at him and tell who he is,” I replied. “Who he belongs to.”

She paled and lifted her eyes to meet mine. “No. I don’t believe you.”

But she did. I saw the doubt there. “Ask him, Beulah. See what he says.”

She looked at the photos in her hand. “No. This, it isn’t real. Why are you doing this? Why would you show this to me?”

I started to explain that I wanted her to know the truth. That she deserved to know, and that Stone wasn’t free of sin. He wasn’t better than me. But before I could the door at the entrance of the building slammed shut, and the ground shook from its force. Stone was home. He knew I was here. He’d seen my car. This was the beginning of their end. Soon, she’d be gone. Free to start a life without our darkness and lies. After all, how could she forgive a man who ignores his own son and allows the boy to grow up with the same monster of a father who had abused him?

Chapter

Fifty-Seven

Stone

16 years old

The soft click of my bedroom door closing woke me. The dark curtains and blackout shades covering my windows made it impossible to tell if it was morning.

Yawning, I rubbed my face hard. I couldn’t have been asleep long. It felt as if I’d just gone to bed.

“We’re home,” Hilda whispered.

That was enough to wake me up. Grabbing the covers, I quickly sat up and squinted to see in the darkness just as I felt her sit down on the edge of my bed. She was close enough that I could smell her perfume.

“What are you doing in here?” I was panicked my father would find her in my room. He’d forgive her easily enough. It was me he’d blame, and I’d pay for this.

Her hand touched my thigh, and I jerked away.

“I’ve missed you.” She sounded pouty. I could hardly see her in the darkness of the room, but I knew her expressions. The way she would pooch out her lips. Just a few weeks ago her voice had been all it took to get me hard.

“You can’t be in here,” I spoke firmly, disregarding her responding sigh. Didn’t she know she wasn’t welcome? When she was working as our house cleaner, I was thrilled to have her sneak into my room and suck my dick. I liked her even better the day she stripped naked and straddled and fucked me. That had become a regular event. But that ended once she became dad’s wife number three.

“I’ve been in Spain for three weeks. Haven’t you missed me?”

“Are you kidding me?” My voice conveyed the incredulousness of the situation. She was my stepmother now. Had she really thought we’d continue messing around? I’d begged her not to marry him. But she had anyway.

Her hand found my leg again. “He’s old and he’s mean. I miss you. I miss your body and the way you make me feel.” She leaned closer, forcing me to back away. I didn’t have much room to avoid her touching me.

“You married him. Deal with it,” I replied as coldly as I could. I understood better than anyone how mean he was. Mean was too kind a word to describe my father if you asked me. I had warned her of his anger issues. She hadn’t listened.

“Winston.” She sighed and leaned into me. I felt her breath on my cheek. “Don’t hate me. I can’t do this without you. We need each other.” Her hand found my dick, and the image of my dad walking in on us was enough to keep my dick limp. She had no idea how bad his temper could get.

“I need you to leave,” I demanded. She didn’t move away. She didn’t seem to hear me at all. Her mouth found my neck, and she started placing soft kisses below my ear. Frustrated, I grabbed her arms and forced her away from me. “Don’t you get it? He willfucking kill me. You won’t be his wife long. He has his divorce attorney on speed dial, and that prenup you signed is ironclad. This can’t happen. You don’t want the outcome any more than I do.”

She sniffled and sounded like she was crying. I sighed in frustration as I left the bed and stalked across my room. If she wasn’t going to get away from me then I’d put space between us.

“He works all the time. He’s gone now. He dropped me off and left without an explanation. I’m all alone. I need someone to hold me.”

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