My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 332

Chapter 332

And somehow, that made it easier. The monsters stopped looking human after a while. Especially when Raphael spoke.

“He sold videos of little girls online.”

Arrow.

“He buried his wife in the basement and told everyone she ran away.”

Arrow.

“He drugged women at bars and filmed them, then killed them.”

Arrow.

My body stopped shaking after the first few kills. The bow no longer felt foreign in my hands. At some point, Raphael stopped needing to guide my hands entirely. Now he only stood close enough for me to feel the heat of him at my back while I aimed.

Hours passed.

We had to be close to fifteen targets by now. Maybe more. I had lost count somewhere between the screaming and the running. Sweat clung to the back of my neck despite the freezing air. My breathing came out in visible white puffs while we moved through the woods again, stepping over roots and broken branches.

Raphael walked slightly ahead of me now, one hand holding mine as he guided us.

The silence between us felt different now. It was comfortable like we had shared something ugly enough to bind us together forever.

Birds had started singing somewhere far away. It was morning. I slowed down suddenly and Raphael noticed immediately.

His grip tightened lightly around my hand as he looked back over his shoulder, “You okay?”

I stopped walking completely. My chest was still rising hard from the running, but something else had started building inside me now. Something bigger than adrenaline.

Raphael turned fully toward me.

The sunrise cut across his face, catching against the sharp line of his jaw and the dark ink on his throat.

He looked beautiful.

And for some reason, standing there between the trees with blood drying beneath my fingernails, I suddenly wanted to tell him everything.

The realization scared me because I never told anyone everything, not even myself sometimes. But Raphael looked at me in a way that made lying feel impossible. My fingers tightened unconsciously around the bow.

“It helps me focus,” I said quietly.

Raphael’s brows pulled together slightly, “What?”

My throat felt tight suddenly, painfully tight, “It makes everything stop moving around in my head.”

1/2

i

15 Baras

Raphael stayed silent, watching me carefully. I stared down at the dead leaves beneath my boots and I forced myself to say it.

“The pain helps.”

A cold breeze moved through the trees between us.

My fingers curled tighter around the bow grip until my knuckles hurt. Then slowly, I looked back up at him, “The electricity,” I whispered. “The burns.”

I rushed to keep talking before I lost the courage.

“When the words start moving too much… when I can’t make things stay still on the page…” My voice shook harder, “I hurt myself because it makes me focus for a little while.”

Raphael’s jaw tightened instantly. I saw it happen. The muscle jumped hard beneath his skin but he didn’t / interrupt me. So I kept going.

“Sometimes I scratch at my skin until it bleeds because it helps me stay awake while I study. I burn myself in the office to work better,” my breathing turned uneven now, “And when I fail something… when I mess up… I go home and I punish myself for it. I cut my skin, I cut off my breath…”

The shame hit me all over again saying the words out loud. It sounded insane now that someone else could hear it.

Tears burned behind my eyes, “I know it’s stupid,” I whispered quickly.

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