Page 11 of Unhinged Love

And maybe a little bit of envy.

Because deep down inside, I wish I could be normal. I just wouldn’t know where to start.

FIVE

Carter

As usual,it’s not bad enough that I’m being forced to do something, like living with a pair of strangers who have no business being here as far as I’m concerned. I have to take meals with them, too. At least Dad took Irene out for breakfast this morning, meaning I’m off the hook. Small miracles.

It’s not bad enough Elliana lives under this roof. I have to see her in Psych class, too, like there’s a spotlight on her, pointing out how different she is from normal people.

It’s not bad enough I have to drive her to and from school. No, she has to keep me waiting. We should’ve been out of here five minutes ago, but I’m still the only person down here, waiting by the front door. This is beyond stupid. She’s not satisfied with having a chauffeur? She has to make sure I know we move according to her schedule, too?

Fuck this. I am nobody’s servant. I’m not going to be late for class because of her. As it is, I’ll probably have to park a mile away from the liberal arts building where my first class is held. I’ll probably have to sprint across the lot to make it in time.

The girl is determined to insert herself into every aspect of my life and make it a little worse than it was before. She’ll learn today about being on time. She wants a favor? She follows my schedule. She doesn’t get to move into my house and dictate the rules.

It’s nice driving on my own. I mean, I’m just as silent now as I would be if she were in the passenger seat, but at least there isn’t that strange discomfort in the air. Like I’m Jack the Ripper and she wants to open the door in the middle of the road and jump out for fear of what I might do.

A growl stirs in my throat and fills the truck. What am I doing, thinking about her?

At the end of the block, I pull up a playlist and turn on something loud and bass-heavy. Soon, the whole truck is vibrating in a satisfying way. It’s almost as good for relieving my tension as a solid workout or a good fuck.

Great. Now I’m thinking about fucking while my stepsister is close to the front of my mind. Pretty fucking disgusting.

I wonder what would happen if a guy ever approached her for sex. Granted, he would have to be the most hard-up guy in existence—and probably blind—but I’m sure there’s somebody desperate enough. I doubt they would get too far; she would probably lie there like a corpse. I doubt she could even get up the courage to scream. Would she keep her lumpy sweater on the whole time?

I really need to stop thinking about this.

When the music cuts out all at once, the sudden difference shakes me out of my nauseating train of thought. A moment passes before my phone rings, hooked up to the truck’s Bluetooth. The word DAD flashes across the control panel on the dashboard.

A chill touches my skin before I answer. “You know you don’t like me talking on the phone while I’m driving,” I remind him, only half joking.

He’s not in the mood for banter. “You wanna tell me why I got a call from your stepsister, telling me she needs a ride to school?”

The little bitch.

“Good thing we were already on the way home,” he continues. “I’ll do it today because the girl needs to get to school somehow. But this is the last time I do you a favor.”

“How are you doing me a favor? I didn’t know it was my job to get her where she needs to be.”

“You are going to the same place. It’s the least you can do.”

“Then the least she can do is be ready on time and waiting for me when we need to leave,” I fire back. “I waited for her.”

“Did you? How long did you wait?”

“I didn’t have my stopwatch in hand, but it was at least five minutes.”

“Wow, five entire minutes?” He blows out a high-pitched whistle that sets my teeth on edge. “I hope the entire rest of your day hasn’t been thrown off schedule.”

“But—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he almost barks in my ear when I try to defend myself. “You are going to stop acting like a petty child. You are going to be a functioning member of this family. And every day, you will make sure your stepsister gets to school and back again. Do you understand me? This is not a negotiation. This is your father telling you what you are going to do if you expect to continue living under this roof—and I don’t think it’s much to ask,” he adds.

I should never have answered my phone, especially not while I’m trying to drive without killing everyone in front of me. I can barely see straight through the fog of growing rage.

I can put up with a lot of shit. One thing I’ve never been able to take is being forced into something I don’t want to do. It’s bad enough I have to accept the gold digger and her freak offspring as members of my family—the idea makes me want to gag.

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