Page 1 of My Shining Stepbrother

Chapter 1

- Rose -

All my life, I dreamed of becoming a tattoo artist. My dreams became a reality when I received an apprenticeship at my favorite shop in town. I am now a full-blown artist, but I despise the fact that I still live with my mom, Anita Morgan. I am nineteen years old, with twenty being only a few months away. My next goal is to be out of this prison of a house by that time. I don’t have the clientele built up just yet to make that kind of money. I took a second job to make up for the extra cash that I needed. The local strip club is where you will find me most nights, swinging around poles in little-to-nothing clothing.

My younger sister Rachel is sixteen years old and is my mother’s perfect daughter. There hasn't been a particular moment since our father disappeared that she has gotten into trouble. I have worked since I was sixteen to help my mother pay the bills and support us. Rachel doesn’t have to do that, and I will ensure it continues that way. She deserves to be a teenager as long as she desires.

My mom and I don’t see eye to eye on many matters. I have learned to accept and handle that part of my life, but her remarks sting more than they should. She disapproves of my tattoos and my jobs. She claims that they are not the jobs for women as beautiful as me.

My dad disappeared when my sister and I were young. I was his little girl, and he was my best friend. I understand why he disappeared; it’s not a huge mystery. My mom can be insufferable to deal and live with. If things are not precisely her way, the world as we see it might burst into flames and consume us all. She has blamed me since the day my dad took off, claiming it was my attachment to him that pushed him aside, but I already know it’s because she is batshit crazy. She never moved on from him until recently, when she started to see Damian Lewis.

Damian is a fantastic man, and how he puts up with my mom is a complete mystery to me. They have been seeing each other for close to a year now, and although matters have gotten serious, we still have to meet one more guy—Damian's son. Today is that day, though. We are meeting them for lunch and getting through the meet the family finally. He speaks so highly of him and how he is succeeding in life with his businesses. He shows his pride for us, even if my mother can't.

“Rose, we have to get going, honey!” My mom yells it from the front door, up the stairs, towards my room.

“I'm coming!” I call back as I throw on my shirt and rush out of my room, crashing into Rachel.

“Mom's going to be furious if you don't cover those up.” Rachel's eyes are worried as she stares at my arms and legs. My arms are wrapped in roses, not because of my name but because I honestly cherish them, and my legs are my masterpieces that I refuse to hide.

My stubborn attitude and unwillingness to comply with her every need shows in all my snarky responses. “I'm not withholding who I am, Rach.”

“I want this day to go smoothly for all of us, Rose. Why can't you give in once?” Her words are smooth and genuine. I won't give in and cave to what she prefers.

“Why should I stoop and hide who I am to make her pleased?” I step aside, deciding to end this discussion. Once I start down the stairs, I can hear her dissatisfaction. I know she is not the one to take my anger out on.

“You really couldn't have covered yourself up?” My mother’s eyes roam up and down my body before landing on my eyes. Her remarks are laced with pure, unaltered venom as she speaks to me.

“No, Mom, I'm not hiding anymore. It's not fair to me.” I smirk as a new fire lit inside of me.

She rolls her eyes as she spins around, now turning her back to me. “We don't have time for this, Rose. Get in the car, and we will discuss this later.” There was no question. It was nothing more than a statement that it would be a long night for me.

I walk out to the car, and the only thought crossing my mind is how she would feel if she learned about my actual job at the club. She assumes I'm just a bartender but has never questioned the amount of cash I carry home every night.

We pull into the diner and go inside. Glancing around, I notice Damian sitting at a table, waiting for all of us. He notices us walking in and waves his hand. My mom pushes past me and scoffs as she glances at me again. Rachel is right beside me, trying to cheer me up. She jokes about faking being sick, so I have to take her home or say that I got called into work early and she has homework to do. We admire Damian, and it's nothing against him. We just hate dealing with Mom’s fictitious personality around him.

“Hey, there are my favorite ladies!” Damian stands from the table, offering us all a hug. He is the closest thing we have ever had to a dad, and that alone being within the last year. Every second he is around, though, I realize how happy my mom is. She isn't bitter with her opinions towards him, only her behaviors toward me.

“How have you been?” Rachel is always the first to talk, referring to the two of us. She is a bit more open and friendly, whereas I'm very conservativeand quiet.

“Pretty good. How about you girls?” he beams at us both as he responds.

“Great, schoolwork has been nonstop, but not too much drama.” Rachel takes her seat as she acknowledges him.

He turns to me with the wide, proud smile that constantly rests on his face around us. “It's been amazing! I finished my apprenticeship, so now I'm a full-time artist.” His face reveals no hint of annoyance at my decisions in life. His support is all I can see.

I catch him peering down at my body, but not in a strange, perverted manner. He marvels at the work I have put hours and hours into creating myself.

“That's fantastic, Rose! I never realizedyou had so many tattoos.” The rest of us take our seats as he states what might be the nicest thing I've ever heard from an adult in years.

As usual, Anita's timing shatters the moment and forces me back to my reality. “Yeah, I wish she would cover them a littlemore. They are disconcerting; the last thing a woman her age should do isdisplay her body.”

Just once, I would love for her to speak as if I were sitting right here. The hate that has fallen from her mouth on my appearance over the years is gob-smacking. One point I have to give Damian, though, is that once he saw our strained relationship, he tried to fix it as well as he could.

“I think they look amazing, Rose,” Damien says with a smile and authority, as though he is telling my mom to shut up.

“Thank you, Damian. They mean a lot to me,” I reply with my newfound authority and voice.

“You and my son will get along great. He loves the artwork in tattoos.” Once again, he is the proud father boasting over his son as a parent should.

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