Page 3 of Stalker Stepbrother

She runs up the stairs, waves to a couple of girls drinking from red cups, and goes inside. I decide to give her ten minutes before I barge in and haul her out of there. Doesn’t matter if I have to do it with her kicking and screaming.

This place isn’t safe for her. This crowd is too rowdy, too wild, pumping full of testosterone, of boys trying so hard to prove themselves as men.

Ah, fuck it.

I get out of the truck and slam the door closed. If I thought the music was loud before, it’s nothing compared to stalking near the massive speakers along the stairs. I almost stop to destroy one, but that’s not my priority. Callie is.

Pushing the door open, everything hits me all at once but most particularly, the smell of booze. I flick my eyes around, noting that these kids are either dancing, drinking, playing beer pong, or making out in full view of others.

Grabbing the tipsy guy nearest to me by his collar, I bellow, trying to be heard above the noise, “Do you know where Callie is?”

With his hair plastered to his forehead, sweat sliding down the side of his face, he looks at me like I’ve just grown horns. His eyes are glassy, and he shakes his head repeatedly, probably to try to fight the nausea. I’m gonna bet he’s a few seconds away from vomiting. “Ca-who?”

“Callie,” I say through gritted teeth, already looking around.

“Did you say Callie? I saw her walk to the pool outside,” a girl who looks like she’s not old enough to drink yells. The boy leans toward her, and they both almost fall to the floor.

I waste no time following the path to the pool. It’s easy to tell since some people have been walking around wet.

I sense her before I see her. She’s standing by the sliding door, one arm held by a man my size. He’s half-naked and clearly drunk. Callie is trying to pull away, shouting, “Let me go!”

“Come on, girl. Stop wasting my time trying to play hard to get!”

I see red. My jaws tense, and I ball my fingers into a fist.

I close the distance in three steps, wrap my hand around his throat, and slam him against the wall. Some of the partygoers gasp but ultimately decide they don’t want any part of it, so they scuffle and head back inside. Good.

“The fuck!” he sputters, bottle dropping to the ground while his hands try to pull mine off him.No such luck, boy. You may be as big as me physically, but I know 101 ways to take you down.

“You don’t touch her. You hear me, you fuckin’ piece of shit? You don’t come near her. When you see her anywhere, you go straight the other way. You don’t even look at her or think about her. If you will, I’ll fuck you up good,” I snarl.

Boy is suddenly sober. Not surprising. I’ve always had this uncanny ability to make everyone—even grown men twice my size—cower in fear. As he should. Because I never make empty threats. Never.

“Y-yeah! Sure, man. I-I thought she’s someone I know,” he chokes but I don’t let go.

“Listen to me, boy. When a woman tells you to let her go, you let her go. Only fucking pussies don’t understand what “NO” means,” I grit out, finally letting him slump to the ground like the pathetic loser he is.

Spinning on my heel, I walk to Callie and tip her chin up, staring into her eyes. “You okay, baby girl?”

Her eyes widen, breath quickening. “Yes, Callum. Yes, I’m fine.”

“Let’s go.”

“B-but…I need to grab my book.”

“Go and get it now. I’m not leaving your side.”

She dashes off and grabs it from the shocked girl watching us. Then, Callie plasters herself to my side. With my hand on the small of her back, I glare at any man whose eyes stray to her.Go ahead and try, motherfuckers.

We drive in silence all the way home, but she keeps glancing at me. I’m still running high on adrenaline because it’s been a while since I manhandled someone. When we get inside the house, she tries to make herself smaller and is about to run upstairs.

“Callie,” I call out.

She stiffens halfway through the stairs and turns around, shoulders tense. “Y-yes?”

“Come here,” I tell her and sit on the nearest sofa.

Her lips press together in a thin line, hands clutching the book like it’s her lifeline. When she’s finally standing in front of me, she pulls at one ear and stares at whatever she finds interesting behind me.

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