Page 36 of Step Alpha

Badly.

Badly enough that I might make it my ongoing job to discipline my baby sister.

I’ll protect her from the asshole town, but she’ll have to do everything I say. Obey my every word. Be a good little runt for me.

That idea satisfies me so much, my dick strains painfully between my legs. I have to rearrange it after I hand her the cake to hold in her lap.

Rayne stares down at it, head lowered, her hair falling across her face.

“Happy birthday, Runt,” I find myself saying.

* * *

Rayne

I’m a little trembly on the ride home. Everything’s tender: my pride, my emotions. I feel sort of hot and bothered being around Wilde–but not in the way I used to.

Not like I want to escape him.

More like there’s something I need from him. Some itch I want to scratch. Wanthimto scratch. He got me all turned on with his hand between my legs today in his grossly inappropriate touching, and now I want more.

Or maybe I just want more of his hand on my neck. That steadying, calming, protective presence he lent me when we were in the grocery store. Of course, he’s the one who upset me in the first place, so it makes no sense that I’d crave his comfort afterward.

It also makes very little sense to me that he bought me a cake.

I mean, this guy is a constant dick to me. He resents my presence in his house then tells me to stop tiptoeing around.

I sort of feel like I’m losing my mind.

Am I losing my mind?

It’s long past the time I should’ve made dinner, and Logan’s Tahoe is in the driveway when we get home.

My mom and Logan are sitting down at the kitchen table eating pizza straight from a box.

“Where in the hell have you two been?” Logan demands. He looks at me, making his tone slightly more polite. “Rayne, if you’re not going to be able to make dinner you need to give your mom a heads up. She was starving by the time I got some pizza into her.”

“It’s okay. Rayne, honey, where were you?” My mom barely stops stuffing the pizza in her mouth to speak. Then she catches sight of the bakery box in my hands.

I watch as her eyes widen. She freezes like she’s figuring out what the date is. “Oh fates, Rayne! It’s your birthday! Oh, honey.” She leaps up from the table and comes rushing over to me.

She’s obviously distraught. So distraught that I feel it necessary to comfort her. “It’s okay, Mom.” She takes the cake box and slides it on the table and then crushes me in a hug. Her baby bump grinds against my ribs.

My mom bursts into tears, which makes Logan leap up from the table like he’s going to rescue her from something.

“It’s fine, Mom.” I give her an awkward pat on the back. “Wilde bought me a cake after giving me a driving lesson.” I want to be sure he gets points for doing what he’s supposed to be doing.

I can’t stand living with the toxicity between him and Logan.

“Oh. Thank you, Wilde.” She throws herself at him, now, making him freeze under her crushing, watery embrace.

“She’s not usually like this.” I feel like I have to explain my mother’s bizarre behavior. I’m not sure whether I’m offering the excuse up to Wilde or his dad or both. “It’s the pregnancy. She’s usually very chill.”

My mom releases Wilde and returns to me. “Rayne, honey. I’m so sorry I forgot. I mean, I knew it was coming up, I just forgot that today was the day. I have your present. I just need to wrap it.”

“You don’t have to wrap it.”

“Let her wrap it,” Wilde grumbles behind me.

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