Page 46 of Lies Like Love

Spots dot my vision. It takes all my effort to stay cemented in place in front of her instead of storming downstairs and finishing him off like I should have.

“Come on.” I release the counter and step to the side. “We need to get you cleaned up.”

“I can go home.”

“No.”

“Jude—”

“Justno, okay, Fel?” I try to keep my voice level but fail. She’s got me unhinged. Riled up. Everything I try not to be, she unleashes.

My stare traps hers and she swallows hard. Whatever she reads on my face stops her from arguing further, and she gives me a single nod instead.

She follows me to the bedroom, her hand brushing the back of mine in the narrow hallway. Static that electrifies my nerves.

I tuck my hands in my pockets. If I touch her again, I’m not sure what I’ll do. Even if I used to have no problem sharing a bed with her when we were younger, it doesn’t feel innocent anymore.

Back then I still thought I could bury whatever perverse feelings I had for my stepsister. Now, I’m not so sure.

I’m well aware of how her sundress swishes over her smooth thighs as she walks down the hall. How it hugs her tight around the chest and makes me want to bury my face between her perfect tits. How the sight of her makes me want to forget we were ever supposed to be family, so I can show her the only thing she’s ever been to me—mine.

She pauses in the doorway, and I walk past her to the closet, seeking out a shirt that will cover enough for me to get my thoughts in check.

“There’s a shower through that door if you want to use it.” I motion toward the bathroom and hand her the T-shirt.

She takes a moment to grab it, staring at the shirt hanging between us. And I’m not sure if she’s waiting for me to explain myself for what happened, or questioning why she hasn’t left. But after a long pause, she finally takes it.

Her blue eyes connect with mine and it kicks up every violent memory I’ve buried. Even when she turns and disappears into the bathroom they thrash around between my temples. She hates me, but she trusts me.

She shouldn’t.

14

Fel

Thefrontdooropensand closes, and Steve’s jaw clenches as footsteps get closer. Mom and I push the food around on our plates, and I try to ignore what’s looming. We sit at the table and pretend to eat until Jude finally walks into the room.

He has the nerve to smirk as he circles and sits across from me, not making eye contact.

“You’re late.” Steve sets his fork down and focuses on Jude. “And you’ve been fighting again?”

“You should see the other guy.” Jude shrugs, picking up his fork and taking a bite as if the fact that he walked in here with a black eye and torn uniform jacket isn’t going to make waves. “Besides, nothing your money can’t fix, right, Dad?”

The way he says “Dad” always sounds like it hurts on the way out.

Steve’s fist clenches and mom tenses beside me.

“Stop being an idiot, Jude. Save the aggression for the football field.”

Jude slams his fork down harder than necessary. “Fuck that.”

“Jude.” I reach across the table, and only then does he finally look up at me.

My eyes beg him to stop before this escalates, but his dark gaze drinks the hope straight out of me.

Jude used to take out his aggression on the field, but ever since our parents got married, he’s been slowly devolving. At first, I thought he was upset for the same reasons I was because us being stepsiblings means there’s a clear line drawn in the sand between us. But that was before he took a trip to visit an aunt, and something drastically changed.

“I can’t, Fel.” Jude pushes his chair back, shaking his head and breaking our stare when I wish he wouldn’t. I need to see his eyes—to understand what’s breaking him inside. I need to know why he’s been changing.

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