Page 11 of Forbidden Harvest

Lisa looks surprised. “Leaving? But?—”

“Now,” Jared interrupts.

A surge of anger rises as Jared tugs me away. I look back at Lisa, silently begging her to understand. After all the effort she and Eva put into the party, I feel like shit. Jared has to come and ruin it all.

Once we’re at his car, I yank my arm free. “Why did you ruin my birthday?” I demand. “You’ve been nice to me all year, and now you had to wreck the one night I was having fun!”

Jared has the decency to look somewhat remorseful, but his jaw is set in a stubborn line. “I’m protecting you, Aria. You don’t know what the guys at that party are thinking when they look?—”

“I don’t care!” I cut him off, clenching my fists. “It’s my life, Jared. You don’t get to just swoop in and make decisions for me. And I can handle myself. My friends are there, too. You’re a complete asshole!”

He reaches out to cup my face, his touch gentle. “You’re my little sister. I can’t let you get hurt.”

I flinch away, my heart pounding. “That’s not an excuse,” I snap. “You never cared before Aaron’s death. Why start now?”

Jared’s expression hardens, and for a moment, I’m afraid he might lash out. But then he lets out a long sigh. “I know I haven’t been a good stepbrother,” he admits, looking down. “But things are different now. I can’t watch you put yourself in danger.”

“So you thought you’d just humiliate me in front of everyone instead?” I spit, crossing my arms. “Nice job, Jared.”

He winces. “I didn’t mean for it to go down like that,” he murmurs. “I just couldn’t stand the thought of you getting hurt.”

“Well, congratulations. You hurt me anyway.” I turn away. “Just leave me alone. I don’t need your ‘protection.’”

Before he can respond, I yank open the car door and slide into the passenger seat, slamming it shut. I refuse to look at him, staring resolutely out the window as he settles behind the wheel.

The drive home is tense. I feel Jared looking at me, but I ignore him. All I want is to get home and forget this awful birthday.

8

JARED

AGED 17

Ishove the last of my belongings into the duffel bag, jaw clenched. This is for the best—I must leave before I do something I can’t take back. It’s been a month since Aria’s sixteenth birthday, and my thoughts about her are getting more and more out of control.

My eyes catch the framed photo on my nightstand, an old family picture with Aria beaming at the camera, so carefree and innocent. A pain tugs at my heart as I drink in her radiant smile.

A soft knock makes me flinch. “Come in,” I say, turning back to zip the bag.

“Jared? I heard you were packing...” Aria’s melodic voice drifts in, and my heart stutters. I glance over my shoulder at her petite frame in the doorway. Even in simple jeans and a baggy t-shirt, she’s breathtaking.

Clearing my throat, I nod. “Got a job across the country. Need to get going.”

Her brow furrows. “But...you never said anything. Why so suddenly? You haven’t even finished high school!”

The concern lacing her tone makes me seethe inwardly. If only she knew the thoughts swirling in my mind, she’d run screaming. “I landed a job in web development. Got to start my life out on my own.”

Aria worries her plump lower lip between her teeth, and I can’t tear my eyes away. “I’m going to miss you,” she murmurs.

Clenching my fists, I fight the urge to pull her against me, to breathe in her sweet scent. To defile her the way no stepbrother should want to defile his stepsister.

“Don’t worry about me,” I rasp, meeting her wide, innocent brown eyes. “You just focus on being a kid for now.”

A flicker of confusion crosses her delicate features before understanding dawns. A soft blush blooms on her cheeks as her gaze darts away shyly.

Fuck, she can’t possibly realize how badly I want her? The thought makes my blood run hot with sickening desire. I’m a monster, coveting my own stepsister. She deserves so much better than the twisted cravings festering inside me.

Swallowing hard, I force my tone to remain casual. “Got everything I need. I should hit the road.” I hoist the bag over my shoulder, avoiding her gaze. If I look at her too long, I may be unable to leave.

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