Page 64 of The Stepbrother 2: Noah

“Demetrius, could you come here?” Demetrius had been with me for six years. He was huge, an ex-college football linebacker. We called him Big Boom.

“Could you please take my son to the car, after you help him put on a robe?” Jason looked defeated. I wanted to cry.

Vincent’s defiance faltered when Demetrius walked in, towering over him. Vincent’s eyes darted between me and Demetrius. “Scarlett, you can’t just barge in here and—”

I cut him off. “Shut up before I lose my temper. Don’t say a word to me until my son is out of this room.” Demetrius glared down at Vincent before walking Jason towards the bathroom. The door was still open, but I needed Jason gone before I called for Clay Walker, an ex-biker and Troy's biggest fan, now retired from the Marines.

Less than two minutes passed before Demetrius emerged from the bathroom with Jason wrapped in a robe, his eyes avoiding mine. Demetrius escorted him out, his large frame shielding him from Vincent’s angry glare.

“I’ll be right down, baby,” I said to Jason before he was led away. I waited a few seconds to hear the elevator ding before calling for Clay.

He came in, looking straight out of a 70s movie. I closed the door behind him before addressing Vincent. I took a deep breath to keep my rage from causing me to do something I’d regret. Vincent, he was practically family. But he had crossed a line.

“Vincent, I don’t know why you chose Jason for... this." I paused, unable to find the right words for my disgust. I wanted to call Troy. I wanted to get Jason somewhere safe. Expressing my anger to Vincent was pointless—I just wanted him hurt.

“Clay, I’ll give you ten grand to make sure Vincent regrets ever meeting my child. Boot to chest, please.” I wanted him to feel like he could barely breathe, like I was feeling in this moment.

Vincent's face contorted in disbelief. “What? You can’t have him assault me!” he yelled.

I nodded. “Oh, but I can, and I will. I've done it before—you’ve witnessed it.” I smirked. “Take what you deserve and live with it, or I’ll tell your husband everything I know. I have pictures.Losing fifty percent of your dwindling income doesn’t sound so great, does it?”

Clay grunted in agreement. He wasn’t much of a talker unless he was drunk. With one last glance at Vincent, I turned and strode towards the door. My hand on the doorknob, I paused.

“You might want to gag him, Clay. He screams like a bitch,” I advised before walking out. I heard my directions being followed just before the door closed. The sound of steel-toed boots hitting flesh was sickening, but Vincent deserved every bit of it. I cried in the elevator, then composed myself. Jason needed my strength.

Troy-

It was disconcerting to have my daughter's front door opened by people I didn’t know, but somehow, I recognized them. It didn’t take long to realize I was looking at Noah's grandmother.

“May I help you?” she asked, her voice dripping with that polite tone that snooty people seem to rehearse.

I didn’t respond. I just turned and walked back to my car, wondering what was going on. I wanted to hug my daughter, not deal with strangers. Why hadn’t Creed told me they were visiting? How long have they been here? From inside the car, I watched as the husband and a blonde woman joined the grandmother. They all came out to stare at me as I called Creed's number.

She answered, sounding happier than she had in a while. “Where are you?” she asked, which was strange,

“Where am I? I’m sitting outside your house, being watched by Noah's grandparents and a blonde chick. Did they have another child? Why did you ask me where I was?”

“That’s the nurse. Why are you there? No, don’t answer. Leave, now, I was going to call you and tell you to come to Atlanta anyways. Leave my house though” she urged. “I’m going to text you an address and a code to the front door. Go there. We left Alaska about 10 hours ago; we’ll be home soon.”

“Alaska?” Confusion laced my voice. "What were you doing in Alaska?" Before I could ask anything else, the text notification dinged in my ear, and I realized she had hung up.

I sat in the car, debating whether to call her back. Instead, I sent her a text telling her I had to pick up her mother and brother and take them to their hotel first. I was surprised when she told me to take them with me to the address she’d sent. Actually, I was relieved. At this point, I needed my family, broken or whole.

Instead of leaving right away, I got out and made my way back to the front door. Noah's grandparents had gone back inside with the nurse. I struggled to remember their names. It wasn’t Engel like their son Wolfgang, if I recalled correctly—he’d legally changed his. They were as inconsequential to me as Tiffany was, so I’d never taken the time to learn much about them. Noah didn’t need them. He’d been like one of our children from the day Tiffany dropped him off the first time. We knew he was better off with us on the days she decided to leave him.

I used my key instead of knocking. This was my daughter's house; they were visitors. I found the grandparents in the kitchen, arguing. I must have made too much noise because they stopped as soon as they noticed me.

They were sitting at the kitchen island, side by side with their heads down. When they turned to look at me, their eyes went wide.

I came right out with it. “What are you doing here?” I’d heard about them. They were notorious for being grifters and had nearly ruined their son's music legacy through dirty dealings.

The wife, with her wrinkled nose in the air, spoke up. “We're here to see our grandchild and his baby.”

Hmm. I ran my hand across my stubbled chin. I needed to shave. “I don’t believe that,” I said, shaking my head. “We never got a call from you all when Noah was growing up. Even when we contacted you for his high school and college graduations,we never got a response. From what I hear, you were terrible parents to your own son, too. Why are you here now? You’ve been old for a whole, it can’t be fear of death that’s suddenly brought you around.”

The wife looked insulted. For what? She was old as dirt.

The husband went to open his mouth, but I raised my hand to stop him. “You’ve probably heard I lost my oldest daughter recently. I just found out my son is in some kind of trouble, and I’m worn, tired to the bone, and feeling violent.” I kept my voice steady, calmer than I felt. I wanted to hurt someone just because I was hurting. I walked further into the kitchen to make sure they could hear me clearly. “I refuse to lose anyone else in my family, or see them hurt. This includes Noah. So, if you two are here for anything nefarious, leave now. I will dig a hole, put both of you motherfuckers in it, and pour the goddamn cement myself if my daughter so much as gets annoyed with you people.”

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