My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 26

Raphael

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I snapped.

My hands flew out, my fingers digging into the soft skin of her hips to stop the motion. I meant to push her away. I meant to end the torture. But the second my palms hit her curves, my brain went up in flames.

It was a slow, dragging friction that made my vision go dark. My body was screaming at me to lean in, to just take what was being offered.

"No," I rasped.

"Help me," she whispered.

"I am helping you," I rasped, my jaw aching from how hard I was clenching my teeth. "I’m the only thing standing between you and a total disaster."

I reached up and grabbed her by the shoulders, pushing her back just enough so I could look into those glassy, green eyes. She looked back at me, her lips parted, her breath coming in short, hot puffs. She looked like she wanted to melt into the floor with me.

"You don't want this, Gianna," I said, my jaw so tight it hurt, "You think you do right now, but you don't. It’s the pill talking. And you’re making things very fucking difficult for me."

She let out a soft, frustrated whine and tried to lean back in, her hands reaching for my neck again. She didn't care about the rules. She didn't care that I was someone she usually hated. Right now, I was just the heat she needed.

"Stay. Still," I ordered.

I swung my leg over the back of the bike, moving fast before my body could betray me again. I stood up, the cool air of the garage hitting the sweat on my skin. I didn't give her a second to think. I reached down, grabbed her around the waist, and hauled her off the fuel tank.

She was dead weight, her limbs loose and soft. I hoisted her up and threw her over my shoulder like a sack of grain.

"Wow!" she gasped, her hands thumping against my back, "Look, the world is spinning!"

"Shut up," I hissed, "Unless you want the whole house to see you like this."

I kicked the side door of the garage open, the one that led into the servant’s passage. It was a narrow hallway that stayed in the darkness, away from the high-ceilinged lounges where my brothers were probably with their families.

I moved fast, every step I took, her body jolted against my shoulder. I could feel the curve of her backside against my neck and the way her hair draped down my back.

I had to get her to her room. If anyone saw us, if they saw her drugged and messy on my shoulder, they wouldn't ask questions. They would blame me for something I had no control over.

"Stop moving," I muttered as she tried to squirm.

"It's too fast," she whispered, "Everything is moving too fast."

I rounded a corner, my eyes darting to the security cameras. I knew the blind spots. I knew how to move through my own house like a fucking ghost.

One wrong turn and I was a dead man walking. One look from the wrong person and the war would start tonight.

I reached the back staircase, and I climbed them two at a time. I just needed to get her behind a locked door.

I reached the top of the stairs, my lungs burning. My bedroom was to the left, and hers was in my father's wing.

Part of me just wanted to get to her bedroom, toss her onto the rug, and bolt but then I stopped.

I thought about what happened. I thought about the red lights, the masks, and the way those girls had laughed while she choked. She had seen the hunt. She had seen the ugly side of our world that she was never supposed to touch. If she woke up alone, her mind would go to dark places. She would remember my hands on her.

And if I wasn't the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes? She would be a wildcard. She might scream. She might run to my sisters-in-law. She could make things very, very difficult for me before I had a chance to explain.

"Change of plans, you stupid witch," I muttered.

I turned on my heel and walked toward my own door. I nudged it open with my boot and stepped into my room.

It was my space, where no one ever came without an invitation.

I walked over to the massive bed in the center of the room. I leaned down and let her slide off my shoulder. She hit the silk sheets, her hair fanning out like a cloud against the gray fabric.

"Soft," she whispered, and reached out and grabbed a handful of the sheet, pulling it to her chest, "It smells like you."

I stood over her, my hands on my hips, watching her. She looked so small in the middle of my bed. She was curled up on her side, her knees tucked toward her chest. The bandages on her feet were white against the dark bedding.

I wanted to leave. I wanted to lock the door and sleep on the floor of the garage.

But I couldn't.

I walked over to the window and pulled the heavy curtains shut, blocking out the moonlight.

"Go to sleep, Gianna," I said.

"Stay," she breathed. She didn't open her eyes, but she reached out one hand, her fingers searching the empty air for me, "Stay here with me."

I sat in the armchair in the corner of my room. My body was still humming from the ride, my skin still felt like it was on fire where she had touched me. I reached for my laptop, flipping it open. The glow of the screen hit my face, making me squint in the dark.

"Raphael?" her voice floated from the bed.

"I said, go to sleep, Gianna," I snapped.

I didn't look at her. I started typing, my fingers flying over the keys. If any of the family tech guys looked at the logs tomorrow, they couldn't find a trace of her on my bike.

"Do you think fish get thirsty?" she asked.

I paused, my finger hovering over the 'delete' key. I closed my eyes for a second, letting out a long, tired breath. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I mean, they live in water," she murmured. I heard the sheets rustle as she rolled onto her side, "But do they drink it? Or is it like... breathing? If I were a fish, I think I’d want juice. Orange juice."

"You're high as a kite. Shut the hell up and close your eyes," I ordered.

I clicked through the files for the front gate. There. A ten-second clip of my Ducati rolling through. I highlighted the file and hit 'Wipe.' I did the same for the driveway, the private garage, and the back hallway. I scrubbed every frame that showed a hint of her brown hair or her pale legs.

"The stars are loud tonight," she whispered.

"Stars don't make noise, Gianna. They’re giant balls of gas millions of miles away. Go to sleep."

"They’re screaming," she insisted, "They’re mad because you’re being mean to your stepsister. Why are you always so rude? Did someone steal your favorite toy when you were a baby?"

"Yeah," I muttered, my eyes locked on the screen as I deleted the footage of the service stairs, "His name was Adriano. Now, for the last time, shut your mouth."

"I like your room," she said, ignoring me completely.

"Sleep before I put a piece of tape over your mouth."

I finished the last wipe. I checked the logs twice, making sure the timestamps looked natural. As far as the Capone security system was concerned, I had come home alone, parked my bike, and gone straight to bed.

I slammed the laptop shut and leaned my head back against the chair.

"Raphael?"

"What now?" I barked.

And in return, I heard a little, almost inaudible snore.

I watched the silhouette of her under the covers until her breathing finally turned deep and even. She was finally under.

"Fucking hell," I whispered to the empty room. I wiped a hand over my face.

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