Read Criminal: A Bad-Boy Stepbrother Romance Online

Authors: Alexis Abbott,Alex Abbott

Criminal: A Bad-Boy Stepbrother Romance (2 page)

By that time, Samantha’s hand is already on his
chest, possessively, and she’s glaring at me with her dark
eyes. Her red hair is wild and frizzy, her nose ring glinting in the
mid-day sun.

“Who’s she?” she spits out, sizing
me up.

I’m everything she isn’t. My eyes are
bright blue, and my blonde hair is stick-straight and neatly clipped
back. Plus, I’m wearing a dressy blouse and a skirt. I’m
not joking around about needing a job, and I believe in dressing the
part.

“My sister,” Kaiden says, his lips
permanently crooked in a smirk.

“Step-sister,” I retort quickly. I don’t
want anyone to think we’d come from the same stock.

“Oh. Hi.” Samantha looks at Kaiden as if
expecting he’d say more. Maybe make her some coffee.

But his eyes are on me, that smirk of his is never
fading as his newest fling felt him up, and I wonder if he gets off
on torturing me. Knowing I can hear him and that I can’t sleep
because of his sexual antics.

“Whatever, you don’t have to be nice to
me. Kaiden’ll never have you back.”

Her eyes narrow at me.

“What the fuck did you say to me?”

I roll my eyes. I’m just as bad as Kaiden with
that. Maybe growing up together did rub off on me a little, though I
hate to admit we’re anything alike.

“I said he’s a pump-it and dump-it kinda
guy. But since you were faking it last night, that won’t be a
problem, right?”

I’m pushing it, and I know it. I give Kaiden a
glance before I shut my bedroom door, but I swear, he looks
impressed.

And then all I can hear is Samantha screaming at him
about how he used her.

I’ll have to wait to call Ryder about the
shot-girl position, but knowing the crowd he runs with, he probably
isn’t up yet anyway.

***

“We’ll need to see you in person.”

I nod, even though I’m on the phone. It’s
so embarrassing to do that, but I’m gratefully alone. After
Kaiden had given Samantha his standard, ‘It was nice but that’s
all it was,’ speech, he’d taken off as well, and I’m
finally alone to savor the quiet. At least there’s that in this
small town. Quiet.

When my step-brother isn’t fucking any random
woman he meets inches from my head.

“Of course!” I tell Ryder, hoping that my
smile is audible. “When should I come over?”

“Tonight, seven o’clock. Come dressed to
work; if we like you, you start tonight.”

“Absolutely, I’ll be there. Thank you so
much, Ryder.”

He doesn’t reply, and then there’s
nothing but the emptiness of a hang-up. My stomach is in knots. I
look at my phone. It’s already three in the afternoon, and I
don’t have any clothes that scream
shot-girl
. Everything
I have is, well, proper. Prim. And at the bar that Kaiden frequents?
Prim isn’t going to cut it.

That, in and of itself, is bad enough. But I just
have to get over my prudishness for a little while. A couple of
months of work, and I should have enough saved up to get out of this
place and be somewhere more comfortable. I’ll find a nice
roommate in a big city, a better job...

It’s all a stepping stone.

I grab my keys and head for the door. I have to get
to a mall.

***

I’m strapped for cash. That is the nice way of
saying it.

At my last job, I’d managed to save a whopping
$127.83. I’d begged Kaiden to let me off with rent until I
found a new job, but he’s getting impatient.

After gas and expenses, I have only $89.26 to my
name, and I have to make it count. I need this job like I’d
never needed anything else, and all my moral quarrels are going to
have to be pushed to the side for the moment. I walk into the trashy
little strip mall, into a used clothing store. That disgusts me too.
It isn’t that I’m prissy, I swear, even if Kaiden won’t
stop calling me Princess. But my dad had always been closer to the
upper side of middle class.

We had a nice house and a nice car, and more debt
than I could’ve ever figured. The bank foreclosed on the house
even as I desperately tried to pay the inflated mortgage, but I
managed to keep the car.

At least there’s that because it gets good
mileage and is big enough that I was able to sleep in it those few
days when things got really dark.

I flick through the racks, looking for something that
will make me stand out. I know that looking like a suburban
cheerleader isn’t going to work in my favor unless I look a
little, well, maybe “trashy” is an ugly word, but...

My hands fall on a scarlet tank top that looks like
it’ll barely cover my chest, and I pause. It’s only $4.

I toss it in the cart, along with a couple other
choices, followed by more miniskirts than I’ve ever owned,
before moving towards the shoes.

If I’m going to be standing, I know I’d
have to dress practically, but the white sneakers that draw my eyes
just aren’t going to cut it.

Since I went to a school that had a uniform, I don’t
have a lot of options for sexy shoes.

I roam along the shoe aisle, but there’s
nothing. Worn flip-flops, brown shoes that look too out-of-fashion
for even a senior to wear, and some scuffed-up pumps that look like
their heels are hanging on by threads.

Old shoes skeeve me out at the best of times, but
seeing the sad selection before me is a miserable disappointment.
Shoes are already so expensive, and I don’t want to spend all
of my meagre budget on it.

But what options do I have? I need them.

I sigh and make my way towards the changing rooms,
quickly trying on the clothes. Over half are discarded as being
either too baggy or not sexy enough. But the scarlet tank top and a
couple of the miniskirts are perfect, and I feel a bit better about
it all. At least this way I save some money on the clothes.

I’m about to head to the checkout when
something catches my eye. I move over towards the furniture section,
and for a moment, all I can do is stare.

There is the exact dresser I had as a kid. I can’t
believe it. I mean, I’m sure it isn’t the exact one, but
it looks just like it. My fingers run along the top of the white
painted wood, feeling it with a sense of melancholic joy.

Along with the house, all of my possessions went with
it—anything I couldn’t take with me in the car. I
couldn’t even afford storage, and my dad and step-mom never
really had any family they were close to.

I miss mom and dad. There’s no denying that.
I’ve just been struggling to stay afloat, and every reminder of
them gives me a sharp pain in my chest. All I want to do is curl up
in my bed, but ever since they passed, it’s just been disaster
after disaster. I haven’t even had a moment to mourn them, and
Kaiden… I guess he’s doing the guy thing. Pretending it
doesn’t affect him.

But I can see it in his eyes, that shadow. He misses
them too.

I smile a little, just at the familiarity of an
object that reminds me of happier times. Of when they were still
alive, and we were still a family.

I idly open the top drawer to find that there must
have been someone who had stowed away some finds that they couldn’t
afford. A bundle of clothes.

I’m just about to close it when something shiny
draws my gaze. Black patent leather.

I push the clothes aside and hidden beneath is a pair
of stiletto platforms like I’ve never seen. They’re
gorgeous, not a smudge or scratch on them. But I know better than to
hope they’re my size.

When I lift them and look at the bottom, not only are
they my size, but they’re only $6! I’m about to jump for
joy, but instead I shove them in my basket, beaming all the way to
the checkout line.

Maybe this is meant to be after all.

I’m so nervous. I look up at the seedy bar, and
my heart is racing. It looks so grungy. The sign is crooked, and the
light above the door keeps flickering in and out.

If I was watching a horror movie, this is the time
that I’d be screaming at the character to get out of there
while she could.

But I haven’t gotten another interview in six
weeks, Kaiden wants me to pay up or get out, and I have no where else
to go.

I push up my bra, tugging down the front of the tank
top a little and pray for my pushup to do a little bit better of a
job tonight. I’m a solid A-cup usually, which is an annoyance
on a normal day, but if it costs me a job, that’ll be a whole
other thing.

I haven’t seen Kaiden since I got home, which
I’m grateful for. The last thing I want to deal with is his
questions and smartass comments about how I’m not cut out to be
a shot girl. I’ve heard enough of that since I got the call for
the interview.

He doesn’t believe I’m cut out for it.
I’m too
perfect
, in his words, though he says it like
the word is poison on his tongue.

Little miss perfect.

He just hates that I always got straight A’s in
school. A lot of good that does me now, considering everything that
has happened.

My interview is in five minutes. I’d gotten
here twenty minutes early, and now I’m just waiting for the
right time.

I am bright enough to know that showing up early
isn’t likely to earn me any brownie points in this place. If
the owner is anything like Kaiden, you don’t waste someone’s
time by showing up late... or early.

But I watch as the time on my car dashboard slowly
clicks down the minutes of my life as my anxiety grows. Maybe I can’t
do it. Maybe I’m not good enough.

Maybe I am just too
perfect
and should just
try to apply for some scholarships and go back to school, in a
strange place, where I know no one, and no one knows me. Hell, if I
leave the state, Kaiden couldn’t even follow me if he wanted,
thanks to the conditions of his bail.

There’s a strange sense of enjoyment I take in
the thoughts of starting anew, but a part of me doesn’t want
to. For all the stuff Kaiden puts me through, he is still the only
family I have left.

And I don’t want to lose him again. Even if
being near him drives me crazy.

The clock turns six fifty-nine, and I leave the
vehicle.

Tugging down my skirt and tank top, I look at myself
once more in the rear-view mirror. I can hardly recognize myself,
with my dark shadowed eyes, heavy mascara, and red lipstick. I teased
up my hair a bit too, or at least tried to, to give it more volume,
and I hope it doesn’t look as bad to Ryder as it looks to me.

I take a deep breath.

Here goes everything.

Walking towards the door, I look at the flickering
light, and the sense of foreboding churns in my stomach, but I push
it aside.

But just then, two people push their way out of the
bar, making out and completely ignorant to my presence. Her hands are
all over him, and she is
grinding
on him. Right there in the
parking lot as he slams her up against the wall.

She giggles, and he growls, and as I get closer, I
think I’m going to be sick.

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