Page 58 of Unwrapping Deviance

Thankfully, Clare took that moment to return with our steaming mugs, a pitcher of cream and a bowl of mixed sugar packets.

She asked us if we needed anything else and Christian thanked her while I dragged my mug closer and pressed my palms into the scalding sides.

“You were a kid,” he tells me once we’re alone again. “We both were.”

“We knew she was sad,” I remind him. “We knew what she had to live with every day.”

“What she chose to live with,” Christian cuts me off with a hiss. “She refused to leave, Danny. How many times did Grams beg her to pack us up and take us to her place, to leave him before he killed her?”

“Point is that Sam and I just clicked. We kind of saved each other. It wasn’t love. I mean, I loved her, but I was never in love with her. I never saw her as more than a friend and I know she felt the same. Her only want and desire in life was to see her daughter again. That’s all she wanted. Mira was everything to her and all she talked about.

I’d never met Mira before she came to live with Sam. The only photos Sam had were years old, but we tried to get the restraining order revoked. Tried to get her case reopened. We fought for years.” I pause to tear open a sugar packet. No idea which one. The fine, white grains spills into my black brew and dissolve. “In the end, Mira’s best friend and boyfriend were killed in a head on collision the same afternoon Mira caught them in bed together.”

“Jesus Christ,” Christian groans, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Her dad died two months later. A freak accident with a machine he was fixing at the factory he worked at.”

“Seriously?”

I nod and pick up another packet. “Mira was seventeen by the time Sam was finally allowed to see her. By then, she was already at the end of her life and only lived two horrifically painful months before passing.” I scrub four fingers across my brow. “I married Sam because it was the only way she was going to get the care she needed. I didn’t even think about Mira or the feelings I would have for her because she didn’t exist to me. My best friend was dying and all I wanted was to take care of her. When Sam was finally at peace, I found myself responsible for this stranger. A teenager of all things. I’d only known her a few months by that point and I liked her. She was sweet and funny but broken. I was terrified of what she might do once she lost Sam. I was scared of leaving her alone, scared when she was quiet too long. I refused to leave her side for a month after the funeral just in case. Camped out in a chair in her room, which she told me was super creepy—”

“Agreed,” Christian chimes in.

I feel myself grin even as I roll my eyes. “But I couldn’t lose her, too, and I didn’t want her to think she was alone.”

“So, when did you start falling for this little seventeen-year-old child?”

I flick the packet in my hand at his face. He tries to deflect, but it smacks into his chest and falls into his lap.

“I didn’t,” I snap. “Not when she was seventeen, damn it. It was months later. She was already eighteen and it was an accident.”

Christian snorts. “How do you accidentally fall in love with your stepdaughter?”

“Will you stop that? I’m trying to be serious here.”

Christian puts his hands up. “I’m messing with you.”

I almost consider stopping. I’ve already told him too much and I feel raw and bare, but despite his teasing, I know Christian isn’t judging me. I know I can trust him.

“I just looked up one day and ... saw her. It sounds stupid because I saw her every minute of every day, but I...”

I pause to gather what I’m trying to say. The explanation is there, but the formation of words isn’t.

“I missed her all the time, even when she was in the next room. I loved the way her laugh sounded, the way she’d light up when I got home, the way...” My brows crease as I unspool the rest, “the way she fits. Just fits. In my arms. In my life. In my heart. She just ... fits. I considered maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m a sick fuck for needing her to love me so badly I feel lost without it, but ... I can’t live without her, Chris. I love her so much it actually physically hurts in my chest.”

My brother is silent a long moment. The missile sugar packet twists between his fingers. He watches it while deep in thought.

“She loves you, too,” he says at last. “It’s really hard to miss.”

I sigh heavily. “I know. I know she does. I know she wants to take things further ... wants me to...”

“Fuck her?” Christian shoots me a grin. “Oh, you have no idea how badly that girl wants you to rail her into next week.”

“Trust me, I fucking know. It’s been...” I shove all ten fingers back through my hair viciously. “I haven’t jerked off this much since I was a teenager. My dick is raw.”

“That’s disturbing information, but seriously, what the fuck, dude? Why are you torturing you both?”

“Because ... what if it’s trauma? What if she wants me because I’m all she has? What if she thinks this will fix her loss? What if we do this and ... and it’s not what she actually wants, and I hurt her and ... and I lose her...”

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