Page 43 of Game Change

“But I need your help, Brynnie,” he says, using the nickname my mom and stepdad used to call me. He’s never called me that. I was always Brynne to him, and once upon a time, when we had a good stepsibling relationship, that was okay.

“I can’t help you.”

“I know you’re the one who bought the house.”

I let out a chuckle. “Well, good on you for checking thepublicrecords. Remember that house belonged to my mother when you and your father moved in? It never should have gone to you. It was meant to stay in my family. It should have gone to me.”

I’m not sure why my mother did it, but she added Isaiah’s name to the house. It was paid for, but I know they took out a home equity loan for repairs when I was a teenager, and I wonder if that’s when she had him added. Then when my stepfather passed away, Oliver was his next of kin, and since he never adopted me, my stepbrother got the house that my mother owned. He promptly kicked me out and moved his girlfriend and her two children in. He did this after I had moved out of the dorm to care for his father because he wouldn’t. I had nowhere to go, and if not for Raven taking me in, I don’t know what I would have done.

That was nine years ago, and in that time, Oliver managed to lose the house. Well, I bought it, and it was a complete disaster. It’s a three-family home. We lived on the first floor and rented the other two units. I don’t think he had any tenants, probably because the other two apartments were in disrepair.

“You can let me live in one of the apartments.” I shake my head at his audacity. That’s the same suggestion I made to him. In fact, I offered to move to the half-finished basement, but he said he was going to make a playroom for his girlfriend’s kids and that he was going to rent the other two. Now, here he is, asking for the same thing he could not bother to give me.

Actually, he’s asking for more. I asked for a half-finished basement in a house my mother owned. He’s demanding an apartment, and I guarantee he’s not offering to pay rent.

“Sure. When the repairs are done, you can fill out an application. If you have the correct credit score and enough income, there won’t be any problems.” I know he won’t qualify. I don’t know what his work situation is, but he is here mid-day on a Monday dressed in gray sweatpants that have seen better days. None of that suggests someone who is gainfully employed.

“You know I have a tax lien on my record. I’m not getting approved.”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you.” I open the conference room door and gesture for him to leave.

“You can’t be that petty,” he says, “or that vengeful.”

“I’m neither of those things, Oliver. I didn’t buy the house you lost to get back at you. I bought it back because it should have been mine all along, and now it is, but let me ask you this. If someone else had bought the house, would you have tracked them down and demanded an apartment? Would you be so entitled, or is it because it’s me?”

“We’re family,” he says, and I let out a genuine laugh.

“We’re not anymore. You were my stepbrother. Both our parents are dead. Nothing else ties us, and I bought the house because it belongs tomyfamily. Even though it was paid for when you got it,” I toss out. I look at him up and down and shake my head in disgust.

“So, you’re just going to—”

“I’m not going to do anything. I’ve already done it.”

Just as I open the door so Oliver can leave, Colin and Heath walk by, both holding a mug and laughing like they’re best friends.

Colin stops when he looks into the room. He eyes Oliver, hands his mug to Heath, and tells him to wait in his office. He enters the room.

“Goodbye, Oliver,” I snap.

“I’ll go, but we still need to talk.”

“No, we don’t. Get out.”

“She said out,” Colin says. “Now, before I call security.” Oliver raises both hands and slithers out of the conference room. We stand by the door until he leaves the office. Once he’s gone, Colin turns to me. “Who the hell was that, and why did I have to save you twice today from the shady men in your life?”

“You didn’t save me from a thing.” I try to walk past him, but he closes the door and leans against it.

“Are you okay?” he asks, taking me off balance. He lowers his voice, and he puts a hand on my cheek. The touch is so sudden and so unexpected that I don’t move. I look into his blue eyes, and I remember everything. Every kiss. Every touch. Everything. And at this moment, I know if he takes me in his arms, I will not push him away. I would embrace it.

“I’m fine,” I say after clearing my throat. “He’s my former stepbrother.”

“Former?”

“Well, his dad is dead, and so is my mom. So, yes, former.” He strokes my cheek, and I still don’t pull away.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “What about your biological dad?”

“He’s alive. He lives in Seattle, so I don’t see him much.” I haven’t seen him since my mother’s funeral. He flew in for two days, and as soon as she was buried, he took an afternoon flight back home.

---