Page 7 of Corrupt Idol

Asshole.

She did her best to dry her wavy, long black hair as her hands shook like crazy. She focused on her task and refused to dwell on what happened. She would blank it from her mind, as she had done all the other incidents. Her goal was to get back to the hospital where their parents were. There was safety in numbers. They would collect Dad, bring him home, and then she would escape back to Utah where she would bide her time until he left.

Her hazel eyes were nearly green in the bright light. People often mentioned her eyes changed color with her moods. She hadn’t seen her eyes this particular shade in years. Her lips were a little swollen and her body was throbbing, but nothing showed on the surface. He had always been careful not to mark her too much. She shuddered.

When she walked into her bedroom, she stopped short when she found Jesse sitting on her bed. Her eyes flicked to the door she had locked before she met his inscrutable gaze.

“Ready?” he asked.

He was going to act like nothing happened. Of course, he was. His moods were as quick-changing as the Texas weather. As a teen, his abrupt personality switches gave her whiplash. He was so good at playing a role while she floundered and struggled to conceal her emotions. Five years later, nothing had changed. Jesse taught her a lot about men. Men only wanted one thing and once they got it, she ceased to exist for them. She tried to go lesbian even though she knew it would give her religious father a heart attack, but unfortunately, women didn’t do anything for her sexually. She indulged in a long string of lovers that didn’t add up to much and only reinforced the fact that most men sucked. Jesse destroyed her world when she was seventeen and she hadn’t been able to put it back together again.

“Ready.” She was proud her voice sounded even and cool when she felt as sturdy as tissue paper.

He got to his feet and she noticed for the first time that he was in jeans and a white shirt. His casual attire reminded her so much of the past that she went dizzy for a moment.

“Vi?”

She shook herself and marched toward the door. “Let’s go.”

She led the way to the garage and hesitated before she slipped into the passenger seat. Sitting in the back seat would only start an argument and she didn’t want to give him a reason to put his hands on her again. Now that he got what he wanted, he would behave for a while. She had to keep him on an even keel. All she had to do was sit here until they made it to the hospital. She could handle that, right?

He slipped into the driver’s side. When he backed out of the garage, he turned toward her and draped his arm around the back of her seat. She shied away from him. He caught the small movement and stared at her for a few beats before he put the car in drive.

She leaned against the window and examined the neighborhood, which hadn’t changed much. A neighbor recognized the car and waved. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jesse lift his hand in acknowledgment. Jesse, the golden boy with impeccable manners. No one would believe what had been going on under everyone’s noses for years.

She clamped her legs together as her pussy pulsed. She climaxed. What the fuck? He turned her body against her, as he had when they were teens. How she felt about him didn’t matter. He could manipulate her body and took great pleasure in doing so. Once, she had loved him with every fiber of her being, but things started to change when she turned sixteen. She woke several times in the middle of the night to find him in her room. At the time, she refused to believe what was happening and came up with a ton of excuses for him, but when she was seventeen, they hit the point of no return. The veil of denial was ripped to shreds when he fucked her. And as it continued, she concluded that the step-brother she had once idolized was a depraved psychopath. The strain of pretending that everything was normal while Jesse forced her compliance broke her. Her threats, hate, or silence made no impact on him. He stole everything from her… and he was still doing it. He was heartless.

She pictured their reunion many times over the years. In some fantasies, she kneed him in the balls. In others, she smacked him across the face and in her favorite, she was able to skewer him with a look and he fell at her feet and groveled for forgiveness. Her insides writhed with shame. None of those came true. She fought, but it didn’t matter. He still won. Healwayswon.

Neither of them said a word during the ride. The moment he parked, she was out the door. Although she hurried ahead, he easily caught up with her. She was five foot six, but Jesse towered over her at six foot three, freaking giant. As they entered the hospital, the sterile smell along with the unpleasant aroma of fear and worry, flipped her mind from her issues with Jesse to the larger one—Lynne’s impending death.

She glanced at Jesse who paced beside her. He looked unruffled, relaxed, and unaffected by his surroundings. How could he be so calm when his mom had only weeks to live? Wasn’t he terrified? Dreading the end? If he felt anything, it didn’t show on the surface. Sensing her regard, he turned his head and speared her with those eyes that haunted her dreams. She looked away and noticed he was attracting quite a bit of attention. That was no surprise. Women had been throwing themselves at him for as long as she had known him. He never lacked female attention, so why had he fixated on her? Why risk so much to fuck his step-sister? Was it because it was taboo? Because she didn’t want him? Maybe because she was convenient and he enjoyed manipulating and controlling her? Whatever his reasons, she would never know and wasn’t about to ask him why he was such a sick bastard.

The door to Lynne’s room was open, so she walked in with Jesse following in her wake. Dad sat beside the bed with Lynne’s hand pressed against his mouth as they talked. Her heart clenched when he turned his head, revealing eyes that were full of tears. He looked down to compose himself as Jesse rounded the bed and bent to greet his mother.

“Jesse, you’re home!” Lynne cried.

She went to her father’s side. “Dad?”

“I’m good,” he said with a pained smile.

He clearly wasn’t, but she didn’t want to embarrass him further so she switched her attention to the mother and son reunion taking place in front of her. Lynne seemed even smaller as Jesse crouched over her. He reached out and cupped his mother’s face. Something twisted in her stomach as they smiled at one another. Lynne stared at Jesse with luminous eyes. It was clear she adored her son and it wasn’t one-sided. Jesse pressed his forehead against his mother’s and whispered to her as tears trickled down her cheek.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” Lynne said.

“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” Jesse murmured.

She turned away and pressed a hand against her mouth as her stomach rocked with nausea. How could he be the monster who forced himself on her and the loving, doting son thirty minutes later? He was doing it again—making her doubt her sanity by transitioning seamlessly between his multiple personalities.

“What are these marks on your cheek?” Lynne asked.

She stopped breathing.

“I was helping a woman get her luggage from the overhead bin and a buckle scratched my face,” Jesse answered.

She swiped at the cold sweat on her brow. He said it so easily, so effortlessly. She would have believed him if she hadn’t put the scratches there herself. How did he lie so effortlessly?

“I’m so glad you’re here, son,” Dad said.

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