Page 1 of Wreckage

Chapter 1

Elena

Ididn’t care.

At least, that’s what I kept telling myself for years.

That my stepbrothers Troy and Adrian’s indifference didn’t matter. That their sharp words and silent treatment over the years hadn’t cut me. That growing up in the same house as them, eating dinner across the same table in a home that never felt like mine, hadn’t left scars.

But sitting across from them now in Lakewood University’s student center lounge, I realized I had never stopped caring. Not really.

“I don’t see why we have to go,” Troy muttered, tapping his fingers against the smooth surface of his coffee cup. His near-black hair fell across his forehead, not as styled as it usually was. His green eyes were set in a look of annoyance. He was handsome. Beautiful. All the girls wanted him. He was popular and rich. He partied every chance he got. The star quarterback on the football team. A frat president. He worked out. He towered over me by at least a foot. He was the all-American guy you wished you could know. I did know him, though, and it wasn’t as good as it looked on paper.

He leaned back against the couch like this entire conversation boredhim. Like being asked to return home for one damn weekend was too much to bear. “It’s just another one of his midlife crises.”

Adrian, seated beside him, didn’t say anything at first. He was always the quieter one. He is more calculating and more careful with his words. Intelligent and top of his class. Just as handsome, but it was more in a quiet, dark way. Same dark hair. Same green eyes. Barely shorter than Troy. He wore black-rimmed glasses sometimes, like today. He scared me more than Troy did, though. It wasn’t that he was violent, at least not outwardly. It was more in a scary, unpredictable way. He didn’t mind fighting and often threw the first punch, unlike Troy, who would just grin and call someone a pussy, before walking away.

A muscle thrummed along Adrian’s jaw as he looked around the room. When he finally spoke, his voice was just as dismissive. “Maybe he thinks if we meet her, we won’t hate her.” He shot me a look, his green eyes assessing, as if daring me to contradict him. Unlike Troy, who typically made sure his hair looked good, Adrian kept his dark hair a little messy, the top being longer and the sides cropped closer to his head.

I didn’t contradict him. I never did.

It had always been this way. The two of them on one side, me on the other.

I shifted in my chair, wrapping my hands around my untouched latte with the whipped cream on top and balancing the book I’d been reading on my thighs while I’d waited for them.

“It’s been years since we’ve all been home together,” I said, keeping my voice steady. I had long since learned that showing emotion in front of them only made things worse. “You can at least pretend to be happy for him.”

Troy let out a sharp laugh, a sound that made me uneasy. “Happy? That’s funny, Elena. Really.” His gaze flicked to mine, the green incredibly vibrant, and for a second, something dark flashed in the emerald depths that let me know the next words out of his mouth wouldn’t be so kind. “You think he was happy when he married your mother?”

The words hit like a slap, just as I expected. I flinched at them and held my cup tighter.

“He was lonely and on the rebound. Relax with that happy shit.” Troy rolled his eyes and looked away from me, clearly annoyed.

I had known, of course, that they resented her. Resented me. It had always been there, a shadow beneath every glance, every word left unsaid. But hearing it—hearing it now, after all these years—still hurt. Steve had loved my mom. He was good to her. When she passed, he sobbed at her gravesite for hours until Dean, our family friend, escorted him away.

I forced myself to meet Troy's gaze, even as my stomach twisted. “That’s not fair,” I said quietly. “And it’s not true.”

Troy scoffed but said nothing. Adrian looked away, staring out the window at the snow-dusted campus beyond. We’d agreed to meet here to discuss our trip back home. We attended the same college. Them, because it was Steve’s alma mater. Me, because my mom wanted me to come here. She told me it would make Steve proud to have his children attend the prestigious university. And while I wasn’t Steve’s daughter, he did treat me like one, even after my mother passed away. He continued to care for me, giving me everything he possibly could. Steve was a good man. His sons, though, that was open for debate. And my own father had stepped out when I was barely old enough to stand, so Steve was all I knew for a dad.

It had been three years since our stepfather last asked us to be home together. I was sixteen the last time, Adrian was seventeen, and Troy had been nineteen and well into his first year in college. The time before that was after my mother’s funeral when I was fifteen. Her funeral had interfered with a party Troy wanted to go to. He’d made a big show of the inconvenience as he slammed his bedroom door. I’d stood in that massive house, suffocating beneath grief, while they ignored me. While they pretended I didn’t exist and the pain I was in didn’t matter. They acted like the death of my mother from cancer was just a bunch of bullshit they had to cancel their plans for.

And now, Steve wanted us back. To meet someone new. To act like a family when we had never been one in the first place. I’d always been the outsider. At least when my mom was alive, I had her to talk to. She always assured me the guys would grow to love me. It was yet to be seen, and I’d been their stepsister for nine years. I didn’t see things changing anytime soon.

“Fine,” Adrian said after a long silence. He exhaled sharply, rubbinga hand over his jaw. “Let’s just get it over with. We can ride together over to the airport. Dean is set to arrive at ten in the morning.” He looked over to Troy, who nodded before looking back at me. “I don’t know how you’re going to get there. Do whatever you have to do.”

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure if I was agreeing or simply acknowledging its inevitability. The fact they wouldn’t even let me carpool with them spoke volumes about their hatred of me. I was used to this behavior and had already expected it.

In two days, we’d board my stepfather’s private jet and fly home. Dean, our family’s friend and pilot, would fly us. I liked Dean. He was kind and reminded me a lot of Steve. Our families spent a lot of time together over the years.

For the first time in years, we would all be under the same roof again: me, Troy, Adrian, Steve, and now, someone new who was meant to replace my mother. When Steve called to ask me home, he was gentle and told me no one could replace my mom, and I understood that. He didn’t deserve to be lonely. No one did.

Troy stretched out in his seat, broad shoulders slouching lazily against the couch, his dark hair falling slightly over his forehead in that effortless way that made girls at Lakewood University melt. He was charming when he wanted to be. The perfect image of a frat president—cocky, confident, gorgeous, the kind of guy who could get away with anything, probably even murder. Both he and Adrian worked out. Their muscles were easily defined beneath their designer threads.

I also went to the gym, but I did it alone and certainly not to the same one they went to. When Troy heard I was going, he warned me to stay out of the one he and Adrian went to, citing they didn’t need me ruining more of their lives with my presence. It hurt, but I’d endured it for a long time, so it was nothing new. When I wasn’t at the gym, I was doing ballet. I taught a class for kids a few blocks from Lakeside. Ballet has always been a massive part of my life. I hoped someday I’d be able to open my own studio. Or if my big break came, dance onstage beneath the lights in front of thousands of people. There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t dream of making it all come true. I hadn’t told anyone yet, but when we got back after the weekend, I was going to try out for The East Coast Ballet Company, one of the mostprominent ballet troupes in the world. It was prestigious and incredibly selective. I’d been practicing every moment I got, and I thought I might make it.

I caught Adrian staring at me. I shifted in my seat and looked at my coffee. He had a way of unnerving me even more than Troy did.

Adrian was the opposite of Troy in many ways. He had the same dark hair and piercing green eyes but carried himself differently. He was all composure, intellect, and quiet intimidation. If Troy was a storm cloud, Adrian was the lightning that streaked through the night sky.

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