Page 63 of The Stepbrother 2: Noah

Noah shook his head. “Not Zella, though. What does it even mean?”

“Wolf, like your dad, Wolfgang. We can be like, ‘Zella a.k.a. Wolf, we’re going to see granddaddy Wolf.’”

Wolfgang, now known as Daddy Wolf, chuckled softly. You could hear a trace of pain in his laugh. "Zella, huh? That's quite a name. But I don’t want her bullied on my behalf.

“No, Zella. We’ll keep trying,” Noah said.

I pretended to pout. I wanted to cry about the entire situation, but I also wanted the tension between the two gone. It sounded selfish of me, but I wanted to act normal about it.

I volunteered to cook and let them talk. The rest of the night was spent getting acquainted. Just before we were heading to the guest room for bed, Noah stopped us and turned to his dad, who was staring into the flames in the fireplace. I wondered what he was thinking. He wasn’t a talker, but a good listener. Would he want to return to his old life now? Could he?

Noah spoke to him even though he didn't look our way. “I didn’t want to bring up anything that might bother you, but when we leave here, I’m taking over your record company. Your parents are running it into the ground. I’m meeting with the board to buy it outright. I don’t know what going back would entail, but it seems you might be tired of this life. We can help you start over if you want,” he said, then we walked away, leaving the man who had been reborn hours earlier with his thoughts.

Scarlett-

A surge of anger and disbelief twisted in my stomach, like something alive and venomous, as I drummed my studded, leather-booted toes against the worn carpet of the hotel hallway. My knuckles throbbed from pounding on the door, but no one had answered yet. The wait stretched thin, like my patience. Tracking Jason down and finding out he was with Vince in a hotel in Jacksonville had taken just two days. I still couldn’t wrap my head around him having an affair with Vincent. But I’d seen pictures.

Vincent's husband thought he was in Atlanta working on a deal with Creed. Imagine his surprise when I informed him that he wasn’t.

When the door clicked open, I shoved my way in without even getting a good look at who had opened it.

“Momma, what are you doing here?” Jason asked, his eyes big as saucers.

I raised my hand to cover my nose from the smell of stale sex in the air. “The better question is, what are you doing here with Vincent?” I knew Jason had proclivities towards kink and was a open to both men and women, but this was too much.

My eyes were fixed on the messy bed. The sheets were strewn all over it. Vincent stepped into my view, his hands held up in surrender. He and Jason were both only wearing boxers. I closed my eyes and sighed.

“This is too much. You both are foul as hell for being here.” I was warring like hell with the urge to slap the hell out of Vincent. He had practically helped us raise Jason, and when he broke hishand fighting with one of his stupid exes, it was me who talked the record label into not replacing him. I was the one who talked Troy out of getting rid of him when he couldn’t play the same. I thought we were better than this, but I guess I was wrong.

But I hadn't come there to fight or fuss. I had done enough of that for a lifetime. Jason and I were meeting Creed, Noah, and Troy in Atlanta. We needed to sit down face-to-face and talk about our issues.

"Jason, get dressed, get your stuff, and let's go.” I waved Vincent off.

“Jason's not going anywhere,” Vincent said, stepping into my line of sight, blocking my view of my son.

I chuckled, rolling my eyes at Vincent. “He isn't?” I could feel my blood pressure rising.

Vincent puffed his chest out and raised his chin. “No, he isn’t. Tell her, Jason.”

“I’m not, Momma,” Jason said, sounding robotic, as if he’d rehearsed these lines. “When Shawn and Vincent get divorced, he and I are getting married. I’m going to be with him.”

My face got hot. Why was I being tested? I tried to keep my voice calmer than I felt. “Jason, you missed your sister's funeral. Vincent is twenty-five years your senior and married. You aren’t in the right state to make decisions right now. You are not marrying him.”

Jason opened his mouth to speak, but Vincent held up his hand, silencing him. Jason's eyes dropped to the ground.

I cocked my head. There was no way he had just hushed my son. And Jason's reaction had me really looking at him, noticing the few bruises that were visible.

“What is going on, Jason?” He looked at me for a second, then turned his head away, a clear sign that he was hiding something. Why were his eyes red? Was he high? I reached out and traced a purplish bruise on his arm. Vincent pushed him behind him.

"Move," I said, shoving Vincent aside. “Is he hitting you, Jason?” There were rumors that Vincent was abusive and a little too rough with groupies, but he had to know better.

Jason’s eyes flicked to Vincent. Vincent’s eyes narrowed, a silent warning for Jason.

“Jason,” I called his name like I did when he was a child. “Tell me the truth.”

Jason hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly, tears welling up in his eyes. “Yes, Momma. He's been hitting me... a lot.”

My heart sank at his admission. I should have known something was going on with him when he missed his sister's funeral. I was so shamed of myself for missing obvious signs again. I pulled Jason into a tight hug, my anger at Vincent momentarily replaced by overwhelming concern for my child. Then something in me snapped. I pulled away from Jason and opened the door, calling out to one of my two guards stationed in the hallway.

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