Stepbrother Catfish: The Complete Series (18 page)

My mom walks around the table. The stupid table is so long, it takes her a full minute to get to me. I shrink back, trying to swallow the rock that’s lodged in my throat.

This is it. I’m exposed. Thanks to Tiffany, that bitch, the secret is out. Not only have I already lost my job, and lost AJ, now I’m going to lose my mother too.

“Mom,” I choke out. Tears burst from my eyes. I should have run after Andrew. Anything would be better than this.

“Shhhh,” my mom says soothingly and pulls me into a warm hug.

“I’m sorry,” I sob out, crying on her shoulder.

“It’s alright, honey. Go on and let it all out.”

My mom holds me, just like she used to when I was little, letting me soak her shoulder with my tears. I need this, and yet, until now, I didn’t even realize I needed it. I needed someone, anyone, to share my misery with. She rubs my back and tenderly strokes my hair. I have so much inside me. So much that just pours out. My body starts to shake with the force of it, but when it’s finally done, when my tears slow from trickles to drops, I feel better than I’ve felt in a long time.

My mom pulls back, “Feel better?”

I nod my head and wipe at my eyes, “Yes.”

She smiles, “Ready to talk about it?”

Am I ready to confess to my mom that my stepbrother catfished me and I’ve been fucking him ever since?

“No, not really,” I say and shake my head.

Mom nods and pulls out a chair, sitting down. She pats the chair beside me. Guess she’s not going to let me wuss out of this. I sigh and sit down.

“Here, this will make you feel better.” She grabs the bottle of wine and pours me a glass.

I look at her suspiciously. Is this a trick?

“Go on, we’ll keep this between us,” she winks.

She pours herself a glass and not wanting to look too eager, I wait until she drinks from her glass before I sip from mine. The wine is a deep red and very tart. I make a face and she laughs.

“I prefer white myself, but Jack loves this stuff.”

I bite my lip. He loves it a little too much.

My mom sighs and takes another sip from her glass. “Things haven’t been going very well for us lately. But we’re working on it.”

I raise both of my brows, surprised though not completely surprised by the news.

Maybe the alcohol is affecting me more than I thought. I just blurt out without thinking, “I never understood why you married him in the first place.”

My mom turns to me, “Really, Hailey?”

I’m probably going to piss her off for saying this, but I just have to. My tongue is loose and has a mind of its own. “He’s an asshole.”

My mom laughs and before I know it, I’m joining her. She laughs until tears come out of her eyes and then she refills my glass.

“He is an asshole,” she agrees.

“Then why did you marry him?”

“Because I love him.”

I let out a long sigh and lean back.

“What?” mom smirks. “Is that not a good enough reason?”

I shrug, “How should I know? I just think it’s kinda weird you knowingly married an asshole.”

My mom nods, “It is weird. I guess, for a long time I was in denial.”

“Serious denial.”

“Yes, serious denial,” my mom says and takes a thoughtful sip from her glass.

“You should leave him.”

My mom frowns at me, “Why?”

“Because you deserve better.”

Now it’s my mom’s turn to sigh and lean back.

I lean forward, “Seriously, mom.”

“He’s good to me, Hailey. He loves me. I love him.”

I roll my eyes. “You just admitted he’s an asshole.”

“Nobody is perfect.”

I groan.

“Nobody is perfect,” she goes on, ignoring my groan. “Jack isn’t perfect. I’m not perfect. But together, we can be better.”

“Jack will always be an asshole.”

“Maybe,” mom concedes, “But because of me, he’s trying not to be.”

“What do you mean?”

“It means that I’ve asked him to stop being such an asshole and because he loves me, he’s trying.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. And I’m trying to be better for him.”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, Hailey, I’m not perfect.”

“Of course you are,” I say. Of course she’s perfect, she’s my mom.

“Oh, honey, thank you,” mom says while reaching out with the hand that isn’t holding her wine glass and patting me on the arm. “But nobody is perfect. We all have a little asshole in us.”

I can’t help but laugh at that.

Mom’s face turns serious, though. “You don’t think you’re perfect, do you?”

Me, perfect? Ha! Not even.

“No, I know I’m not perfect, mom,” I sigh. I feel like a fool, like a fuck up. I’m not even close.

“Good,” my mom says and drains the rest of her glass. “Now tell me what’s going on with Andrew.”

I tell my mom everything. Well, almost everything. There are certain details she doesn’t need to know. But for the most part, she listens patiently, and when I start to choke up, when I start talking about how crushed I was when Tiffany showed up, she scoots her chair closer to me and holds my hands.

“How do you feel about Andrew, now?” my mom asks when I’m done.

I shrug my shoulders, “I don’t know.”

“Do you still think Tiffany is being honest?”

The more I think about Tiffany, the more I doubt her claims. I shake my head at my mom, “No, I don’t think she is.”

“Do you love Andrew?”

I knew
that
question was coming, but still it catches me off guard as if it was coming out of the blue.

“He’s my stepbrother, mom.”

She smirks, “So?”

I blink at her, “So? He’s my stepbrother. You saw Jack’s reaction.”

“Oh, screw Jack. He’ll get over it. Now answer my question.”

“Yes, I love him.” If I didn’t love him, the things Tiffany said wouldn’t hurt so much. All the lies wouldn’t cut as deep as they do. 

“I love you, too, Hailey,” Andrew says from across the room.

My mom beams at me. I have a feeling though I can’t prove it, that she knew he was standing there when she asked that question.

My face is burning, my cheeks are on fire. I turn my head and sure enough, Andrew is there, standing in the doorway. How long has he been there? What has he heard? Oh, God.

“Hailey, can we talk?” Andrew asks, his dark eyes boring into me.

It’s not fair that he can stand there and be so damn handsome, so damn sexy and alluring when I’m not sure yet if I can fully forgive him.

I hesitate and look back to my mom.

My mom checks her watch and stands from her chair. “It really is getting late. I should be off to bed. Good night, darlings. Don’t stay up too late.”

I watch in disbelief as my mom just walks away.

“Good night, Lynn.” Andrew smiles at my mom and steps out of the doorway to let her pass.

My mom pauses and leans close to him. What is she saying? I know she’s whispering something.

Andrew laughs and my mom disappears into the hall.

Did she really just abandon me? I can’t believe it. How could she leave me alone with him? Especially after everything I shared with her…

“Hailey?” Andrew asks.

I look around the room. Are there no other exits? No other escape? Do I need to throw myself out a window? Shit. Fuck. Shit.

“Don’t try to run,” he says huskily and starts coming for me. “I’m faster.”

“What do you want?” I ask and stand from my chair.

Andrew stalks around the table, his eyes never leaving me.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. The way he moves, the way he’s coming for me, he looks like he’s ready to eat me up. Every instinct in my body is screaming at me to run away.

“Everyone knows now. Tiffany made sure of that.”

“What did she do?” I ask. I really wish I had brought my damn phone.

“You don’t want to see.”

Now I just have to see. “Show me.”

As Andrew draws closer, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He stops a couple of feet away from me and his eyes roam over my body. Why is he looking at me like that?

He holds his phone out, “It’s not pretty.”

I reach out to take his phone and he pulls it back. “Seriously, Hailey. It’s bad.”

I shake my hand impatiently at him, “Just let me see for myself or get out of my way.”

If he won’t show me his, I’ll just go grab mine. In fact, I’m half tempted to do that anyway because the way Andrew is looking at me, the way he’s making me feel, even with this Tiffany business looming over my head, is dangerous. I can already feel my body responding to him. My body temperature has shot up a couple of degrees and counting.

Andrew reluctantly unlocks his phone and places it in my hand. I don’t have to go searching for whatever Tiffany did. As soon as my eyes land on his screen, it’s all right there waiting for me. Andrew left his newsfeed open.

“She tried to blackmail me. She was texting me yesterday, demanding I pay her a million dollars or she’d tell everyone about us.”

Holy shit. Tiffany has plastered photos of me all over Andrew’s newsfeed. The pictures have big angry words on them, calling me things like dirty slut and cock whore.

“Where did she get the pictures?” These aren’t pictures from my own albums. In fact, most of the pictures I’ve never seen before. Thankfully, none of them are the nudes I sent AJ. These pictures are harmless, besides all the nasty words she’s shopped on them. I have all of my clothes on at least.

“I think she stole them from my apartment.”

I keep scrolling through the pictures, there’s at least twenty of them. Then I reach her blocks of angry rants. She’s tagged Andrew and me in every one of them.

“You had pictures of me?” I ask and peek up. I found the one in his kitchen, but I never suspected there could be others.

Andrew shifts uncomfortably, “Yeah.”

I look back down to the rants. Tiffany calls me everything in the book. She repeats over and over that I’m Andrew’s sister and that I’m sleeping with him, though, thankfully she doesn’t seem to have any actual proof. Incest is in bold red letters, all over the place. And then she goes on to say I’m a drug user, a prostitute, and I do lesbian porn.

“Wow,” is all that I can say.

“If she wasn’t a woman, I’d fuck her up,” Andrew says coldly and by the look on his face, I can tell he truly means it.

“Is all of this on my wall, too?” I ask and hand Andrew his phone back.

I know all the things, well most of the things Tiffany said weren’t true. But still, when you put lies out there, some people can be surprisingly willing to believe them. Once it’s out there, it’s hard to take back.

I wonder if this is how Andrew felt when Tiffany said all those things about him.

Andrew nods his head, “Yes.”

“Fuck,” I groan.

“Jack is contacting the lawyers right now. He’s pissed.”

“What?” I ask in surprise. I swear my stomach just flipped. Jack is contacting lawyers because he’s pissed at us?

“Yeah, he’s going to sue the shit out of her if she doesn’t take it all down.”

“Oh,” I say relieved. “Can he do that?”

Andrew shrugs, “It’s the threat that counts.”

“How can she? Who even?” I can’t even complete my own thought. I just end up biting my lip.

Andrew answers me, knowing exactly what I’m thinking, “Because she’s fucking crazy. She gets off on this shit.”

Yeah, I can’t really see a sane person saying all the crazy things she said.

“So it’s all out there, huh?” I try to let it sink in. “Is Jack really mad?”

“Fuck him. Who cares?”

“Everyone must think…” I start, but Andrew cuts me off.

“Who cares what they think?”

I frown at him, but his dark eyes burn into me, challenging me.

“I can’t help but care,” I say defensively. I really wish he would stop looking at me like that.

“Why?” he asks.

I can’t really think of a good answer at the moment. I’m too flustered though I know if he wasn’t affecting me in such a way, I’d have a much better answer than, “Because.”

“You need to stop caring what other people think, Hailey,” Andrew says as he reaches for me.

I can’t move. It’s those eyes, those damn dark eyes of his sucking me in. I’m lost in them, hypnotized by him. I see his hands coming for me. I just let him grab me. I don’t even try to stop him. I know I should stop him. I know where this will end if I let him touch me, but it’s as if my body has had enough and is taking over. My body wants him to grab me, wants to touch and feel him too damn much.

“Why?” I ask, my voice sounding breathless.

His fingers squeeze my arms. His hold on me is utterly possessive.

“Because they don’t matter. All that matters in this world is you and me.”

“If only…” I sigh.

Andrew’s eyes glare at me and he pulls me into him. “You are all that matters to me,” he says almost angrily then his lips steal a kiss from my lips.

The kiss is rough, there’s not a bit of sweetness to it. Our mouths collide. I swear I feel his teeth grazing my lips.

He tears away, “This is all that matters.”

He kisses me again before I can catch my breath. His mouth covers me, hot and wet. His lips pull at me, demanding I open for him.

Is it the wine I drank? Is it him? I feel like my head is spinning. I can’t wrap my mind around what’s happening. My lips open for him and his tongue sweeps in.

It’s as if he’s branding me, claiming me. Trying to make me feel as if I am utterly his. His fingers squeeze my arms, keeping me in place. I can’t escape. I don’t want to escape, especially when his tongue leads mine into a wicked dance.

I missed this. Oh, how I missed this. The taste of him, the smell of him. Even the scratchiness of his chin. It feels right. Something about it just feels so right when I’m touching him. As if we were meant to be together. As if we were meant to do
this
. 

Our tongues slide across each other, wet and electric. I shiver. Just as I’m really getting into it. Just as I feel that familiar wetness, that familiar throb building in my core, he tears himself away and leans back.

We stare at each other, catching our breath. The room is completely silent save for the sound of our breathing, and the thunder of my racing pulse pounding in my head.

“I have something to show you,” he finally says, breaking the silence. He let’s go of one arm only to pull me forward by the other. “Come with me.”

I should say no, I know I should. But when our bodies are so close together, when I still have the taste of him on my lips, all logic goes flying out the window. I live and breathe just to be near him. And he must know this because he leads me forward so confidently, as if he knows I won’t say no.

So I find myself saying, “Okay,” as he leads me out of the dining room.

It’s not until he has me settled into the front seat of his car, belted in and trapped as he pulls out of the driveway that I think to ask, “Where are we going?”