Page 16 of Claimed By my Stepbrother
Once it’s a fine powder, I scoop it into the cap and put the bottle back in the cabinet. Needing a distraction to give me time to put the drugs in his soda, I look around the room. Inspiration strikes when I see the lamp on the bedside table.
I remove the lightbulb and give it a good shake until I can hear the filaments rattling around. Bringing it with me to the living room in one hand, showing it off a bit dramatically, I hide the powder-filled cap in the other.
“Hey, um, Nutso?” I ask timidly, enjoying the damsel in distress persona just a little too much. “Could you get me a new lightbulb? I was in the middle of my book—and it was just getting to the good part—andpoof, the bulb went out,” I say, giving him a demure smile.
He scoffs, but rises from the couch. “Yeah, sure. Be right back.” I wait for him to leave before I dart over to the table and tap the lid, watching the powder fall into the can. Once it’s all in, I slowly twirl the can around to mix it. I put the can back where Nutso had it and go throw away the bulb.
Nutso comes back in and grabs the can, drinking deeply. “Here ya go, little lady” he says, handing me a new bulb as he walks over to the liquor cabinet. He pours several shots-worth of amber liquid into his can, rattles it from side to side to mix it, and then chugs the contents. This. Is. Not. Good.
“Uh, thanks. Knox must be a cool boss…letting you drink on the job and all,” I say perching on the couch across the firepit from where he’s been sitting, waiting for him to take the bait. He scoffs, grabbing a beer out of the bar fridge before heading back to the couch to continue watching his show.
“Thought you were reading.” It’s definitely not a question. My presence seems to agitate him, so I stand up and move toward the stairs.
“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m going to do that. Thanks, again,” I tell him with a nervous smile. I’m not so sure I should leave him alone, but it’ll be suspicious if I don’t. I head back to the guestroom, and I don’t make it five minutes before I’m back in the living room, inventing an excuse to check on him.
I’m not sure how quickly Valium is supposed to take effect—especially when combined with that much alcohol, but I’m surprisingly glad to see that he’s still conscious. “I’m going to make a sandwich. Would you like one?”
He looks up at me. “Uh, yeah, thanks,” he says, slightly taken aback by my offer.
Hoping some food will help prevent his demise, I hurry to the kitchen, rummaging around for the ingredients I need, and make the sandwiches as quickly as I can. I grab a bag of chips and a bottle of water, unsure of what else I can do besides call Knox, confess, and have him rush home to take Nutso to the emergency room to get his stomach pumped.
He mumbles a thanks, and we eat our sandwiches in silence. I can barely taste anything, too close to a panic attack to enjoy it.Oh my god, I’m a terrible person! Good people don’t drug other people! He’s not exactly Mother Teresa, himself, but that really doesn’t matter! If he dies, it’ll be entirely my fault.
Before I can completely spiral into panic, I pull my phone out of my pocket and do some research to see what the damage could be. It’s not great, but to my profound relief, it sounds like he’s going to be alright. Minutes later, he’s out cold, snoring like a lumberjack.
With nothing else I can do for him, I take the opportunity to get ready and text my friends that I’ll meet them soon. I put on a collared lilac mini dress with gold accents. It’s one of my favorites because it has pockets and a brooch at the neckline. I step into wedge sandals and grab my cream leather bag. Digging around in my small jewelry box, I pull out the fuschia bow studs that were a gift from my father before his final deployment.
When I’m ready, I make my way down the stairs quietly, listening for the sound of Nutso’s loud snores. I’m at the door, my hand on the knob, when I remember that it won’t open without a scanner.
I look over to where Nutso is slumped on the couch, eyeing the watch on his wrist, knowing it’s the only thing between me and freedom. I gulp, walking toward him.Please don’t wake up, please don’t wake up,I chant under my breath.
I don’t breathe as I remove his watch from his wrist as delicately as possible. Just as I start to think I’m going to get away with this, Nutso jolts up, turning his body to the other side with a murmuring sound.
My breath hitches as I stand there, frozen, until I’m sure he isn’t waking up. I rush to the door as quietly as possible, flashing the watch over the sensor and pulling it open. My heart doesn’t stop racing until I’m on the elevator, heading to the lobby.That was close.I have no idea what I would have done if he’d woken up to see me staring down at him.
I make my way through the crowded casino floor and wait just inside the door for the Uber I ordered on the way downstairs. The red sedan pulls up and jets into the flow of traffic, quickly taking me to the Fashion Show Mall. Ivy and I often meet at the mall, and I never get tired of seeing its UFO-like disc rooftop that is visible for miles.
Ivy asked to meet at the Hello Kitty Cafe, and after hiking up the ridiculous flights of stairs, I’m in desperate need of their delicious strawberry soft serve. The Hello Kitty-shaped waffle cone it comes in is just the proverbial icing on the cake.
We both need dresses for graduation, and I’m hoping to convince her to go to the afterparty with me. The dance committee chose a disco fever theme, and I can’t wait to break out some of my retro dance moves.
“Since you can’t take Mr. Hot Stuff to the dance… will you go with me?” I ask Ivy, flashing my best puppy dog eyes at her.
She chuckles, shaking her head. Ivy’s been in love with her dad’s boss for ages, but she won’t make a move on him.
“Of course, we’re going together, you weirdo,” she laughs. “But, are you sure you wouldn't rather take your sexy stepbrother?” She nudges my shoulder with hers playfully, but I’m not ready to confess just how into Knox I am, even to my best friend.
“Oh… yeah, sure. I’dloveto take my kidnapper with me to a dance. The last one endedsooowell.” We giggle, but I glance at her. “He is so damn fine, though.” My dramatic sigh has the comedic effect I was hoping for, and she tosses her head back and giggles.
“Yeah, what was up with that?” she asks curiously, staring me down as we ride the escalator to the next floor.
“He’s a gigantic ass, that’s what’s up,” I say vaguely. There is so much I want to tell her, but I can’t. We tell each other everything, but she can’t find out Knox is in the mafia— it’s too dangerous. Though, so is admitting my developing feelings for him out loud, but that almost just happened.
“Yeah, I still can’t believe he carried you out in the middle of your performance.” She shakes her head in disbelief and steps onto the landing. “What a Neanderthal!”
I can’t dispute his actions were barbaric, but I also can’t deny—at least to myself—that they turned me on more than they should have, at least once the fear subsided.
I beg Ivy to go into Neiman Marcus, which we rarely do, because neither of us can afford even the cheapest item available. We have fun looking at the beautiful gowns, and when I see a fuschia gown sparkling with sequins, I have to try it on. I see Ivy eyeing an icy blue ombre sequined gown that turns silver at the bottom. I grab it, and her arm, and lead her toward the dressing rooms.
