Escape: A Stepbrother Romance (9 page)

Even before Mum’s accident, I had never really gotten along well with Dad, but I made more of an effort then for Mum’s sake. She didn’t like to hear me speak badly of him and even blamed herself for the screaming matches I used to overhear coming from their bedroom. I didn’t understand why I should have to treat him with respect when he didn’t do the same to Mum or myself, but Mum insisted that adults argued all the time and that she was as much to blame as he was. Even as a child of ten or eleven, I sensed that was a load of bollocks, but whenever Mum and Dad were in the room at the same time I spoke politely to my father and said all the right things.

Dad’s lack of respect for Mum sickened me to my stomach as I looked at him sat next to Sheri on the sofa. I didn’t hate that he was in a relationship and I certainly didn’t hate that he was in a relationship with Sheri, but I hated that he pretended Mum didn’t exist. He probably hadn’t told Sheri much about Mum or she would have mentioned it to Caiden. The guy might be a jerk sometimes—or most of the time—but I noticed a look of regret in his eyes when he put his foot in it by mentioning my mum. I sure as hell wasn’t about to pretend Mum didn’t exist anymore even if that might cause the odd awkward moment between the four of us.

“I don’t mind you two relaxing for a couple of days,” Dad said, crossing his legs and leaning back in a poor attempt to appear relaxed. “But you are not going to just hang around here all summer and watch TV.”

“I have plans for the summer,” I said, “and they don’t involve watching much TV.”

I wouldn’t be able to keep my plans a secret, so I didn’t mind him knowing, but in addition to cooking I planned to start a food blog to document all my recipes. It was a long way from a food blog to actually being a successful chef but at least I might teach myself a thing or two about recipe development.

I planned to start this afternoon. I only had a few months of freedom and I intended to use every minute of that to do something I enjoyed; something that might set me up for a career in the food industry one day.

“That wasn’t directed at you,” Dad said to me. “Don’t worry, I’ve already made arrangements for your summer. You’re going to be very busy indeed over the next few months. You certainly won’t have time to watch those cooking shows of yours or do much else come to think of it. You’re going to summer school.”

Caiden laughed loudly and switched off the TV. “I think I’m going to enjoy this. Do continue, Roy.”

“Summer school?” I asked, repeating Dad’s words back to him. My voice stuttered slightly as I spoke. “That doesn’t make any sense. I’m about to go to university; I don’t need to go to summer school before university starts.”

“It makes perfect sense, honey,” dad said. He never called me ‘honey’ or any other affectionate nickname and the word sounded false on his lips. It sounded more like a threat than a sign of affection, as if it was supposed to remind me not to talk back to him.

“Is it one of those schools where women get taught how to be ladies?” Caiden asked, excitedly. “Please, please tell me it’s one of those schools. Vicky could definitely benefit from improving her manners. You should hear the way she screams and curses when she gets really
passionate
about something.”

I glared at Caiden, but he just smiled at me in response. I rarely swore out loud and even in my head I usually avoided it in case one day the words slipped out by mistake. Dad had overheard me say shit once as a child and had spanked me so hard I could still feel the mark on my leg. I hadn’t even known what I was saying. It was just something I picked up from one of my mum’s friends, but Dad was furious. Even at school I never swore, even when the other girls were effing and blinding all the time. They teased me quite a bit for it, but I just said I didn’t feel the need to conform with everyone else and that soon shut them up.

“What is the summer school for?” I asked. “I checked the requirements for my course at Cambridge and I don’t need any specific A-levels or knowledge to take PPE.”

“It’s not for the benefit of your course,” Dad explained. “I’m very proud of you for taking PPE,” he continued, as if I’d had a choice in the matter. “But it won’t teach you any real world, practical skills.”

“Then why did you tell me to take that course in the first place?” I sounded exasperated which was about as rude as I ever got when speaking to Dad, yesterday’s little outburst excepted.

I caught Caiden glare at me and raise his eyebrows. I’d insisted to him that studying PPE was
my
choice, but the truth was it had been strongly recommended by my father, and when he ‘strongly recommended’ something it generally wasn’t worth the time or effort to argue with him. No doubt Caiden now thought I was even more a daddy’s girl than he did before.

“It’s a great course,” Dad said, “and it will get you a great job, but to really excel as a solicitor you need more than just a degree from a top university.”

“I might not become a solicitor,” I said, defiantly. Dad had never insisted directly that I become a solicitor or barrister, but he had mentioned more than once that many people who took PPE at Cambridge became solicitors for big law firms in the City.

“Maybe not,” Dad said, “but this course will still be useful.”

“In that case I will take it in the summer
after
my degree but before I start my career.”

“It takes longer than one summer to learn.”

“What is this course you’re making me do then? Or don’t I get to know what it is?”

Dad frowned to let me know he didn’t appreciate my tone. “You’re going to summer school this summer to start learning to speak, read, and write Mandarin. You will do this every summer until you start your job. I don’t expect you to be fluent in it for a few years, but by the time you are working for a firm—or whatever you decide to do—you should be able to converse in the language.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Learning Mandarin was about the furthest away you could get from my plans for this summer, but I couldn’t exactly tell him that. I knew starting a blog was silly and that it would likely never lead to anything, but I just wanted something to show for my efforts at learning to cook.

More than that, I wanted something I could show to Mum. She’d been the one who taught me to cook in the first place, and my happiest memories of her were times we spent in the kitchen together cooking a meal or baking a cake. I didn’t see or speak to Mum as often as I would like, but if I had a food blog online then Mum could look at it—once she was mentally well enough to use the Internet again—and she’d be able to see me using the skills she had taught me.

“I don’t want to learn Mandarin,” I said. I looked my father in the eyes and tried to express how serious I was about this, but years of obeying him and doing what he said meant he was unlikely to take me seriously.

“It’s an important language,” Sheri said, sticking up for my father. “And if you can speak Mandarin you will be in the minority of lawyers. You’ll be able to progress so much faster.”

“Sheri’s right,” Dad said. Of course she was; Dad had told her to say that. I could tell from the awkward way in which she spoke. “My firm always has to deal with contacts in China, and it’s so hard to find someone who can speak to them directly. You wouldn’t believe the hassles caused by difficulties in communication. You can be the solicitor to deal with all the China work. It would mean you’d have a very lucrative and busy practice right from the start.”

“How exciting,” Caiden said. “You could even go and work for your dad’s firm. I bet you didn’t think of that, eh Roy?”

“Can I at least think about it?” I asked. “There might be other things I can do this summer that will be just as useful.”

“I’ve already enrolled you on the course and Sheri went to a great deal of trouble ordering all the books you’ll need.”

How much trouble could it be buying books? She probably just went online and ordered them with the click of a few buttons.

“I really do not want to spend my summer learning Mandarin,” I pleaded, although I knew it was hopeless. “What about seeing my friends? We’re all going off to different universities or travelling the world and won’t be able to see each other as much. I’d like to spend time with them this summer.”

“This is not up for discussion,” Dad said. “You’re going to learn Mandarin and that is the end of it.”

“That’s not fair,” I said softly. I knew I sounded meek and feeble, but I couldn’t bring myself to yell in front of Sheri and Caiden. “You don’t have the right to dictate what I do and do not do.”

“Excuse me?” Dad said. His raised eyebrows made it clear he was surprised to hear me speak back to him. It was a reminder of how pathetic I usually was that this was the first time I’d really pushed back on anything.

“I’m an adult now. You might not realize that, because you missed my eighteenth birthday, but I don’t have to do what you say anymore.”

“Oh, now this is getting interesting,” Caiden said. “Why did you miss her birthday, Roy? Big case to work on at the office? Or were you just busy screwing my mum on your desk?”

“Caiden!” Sheri yelled. “Don’t you dare speak like that to Royston. You are a guest in his home and you better damn well act like one. Apologize to him now.”

“The day I apologize to him is the day he shows some respect to his daughter.”

“You don’t know anything about respect,” Sheri said. I’d never seen her so angry. She always looked so calm and collected on TV. Even when something went wrong, she would laugh it off and carry on as if nothing happened. “And if you think you can sit around here and watch TV all summer then you have another thing coming. I’m going to think of something for you to do this summer as well.”

“No you fucking aren’t,” Caiden replied. I gasped at his choice of words and wished I had the confidence to speak like that to my father. He actually deserved it, whereas in my opinion Sheri did not. “Just because he treats his daughter like a project to be developed, doesn’t mean you can do the same with me. If you think I’m going to be under your thumb this summer just to impress your latest man then you have another thing coming.”

Caiden stood up and I decided to as well. There was no way I was going to use the same language as him, but this was one time when associating myself with what he said might work in my favour without me actually needing to scream at my father.

“I’m not going to learn Mandarin this summer,” I said again.

“What time do the pubs open around here?” Caiden asked me.

I looked at the time on my phone. It was twenty to eleven. “They’ll be open in twenty minutes,” I replied.

“Good. I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink.”

“Sounds good to me,” I replied. “Let’s go get drunk.”

I was impressed. Really impressed. Okay, so she hadn’t really spoken up to her father as much as I would have liked, but she’d gone along with what I did which was probably a pretty big deal for her. Certainly judging by the look on her father’s face, she’d never spoken to him like that before. He looked furious; I could see it in his eyes. The muscles in his face twitched and I saw his fingers whiten as one gripped the armrest of the chair and the other his knee.

I’d have to try to be around when Vicky next saw her father, although I suspected he would wait until the two of them were alone before really laying into her.

I half expected Vicky to head straight up to her room or just go outside for a walk; I figured she wouldn’t be the type to go to a pub at eleven in the morning despite what she said. However, she slipped on some shoes and bent over to pick up her keys from the stairs. As she leaned forward, I caught a glimpse of her nipples as a gap appeared between her breasts and her bra.

The nipples were stiff just like they had been the night I’d spent with her. I’d assumed they had been hard that night because she was aroused, but now I was a little concerned that she was just one of those girls who always had hard nipples. Still, there was no way the orgasms had been fake so I could assume she had a good time.

“Are we really doing this then?” I asked.

“Follow me,” she replied.

The bar—or pub as she referred to it—was only about a ten minute walk away so we would get there before it opened, but there didn’t seem much point hanging around the house and I sensed she wanted to be outside as soon as possible.