The stepbrother I shouldn't want

Chapter 38: Chapter 38: The Edge of Everything

"Get in the car."

I looked up from the porch steps. Mom’s car had vanished at the end of the street, her voice still ringing: Deny it. Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t feel anything. I hadn’t. I’d stood there silent, my throat locked around a lie that wouldn’t come.

Lucian stood at the bottom of the steps, keys in hand. His jaw was tight, but his eyes weren’t. They were wrecked.

"Lucian, not here." Low, rough. "Mrs. Chen is peeking through her blinds. Get in the car. Please."

I got in.

He pulled away deliberately normal, like a stepbrother driving his stepsister to school. Except he wasn’t driving me to school. He took a left where he should have taken a right, heading toward the city.

"Where are we going?"

"My apartment." He didn’t look at me. "You need to change. We need to talk without your mother listening."

I stared out the window. The suburbs blurred into downtown.

Lucian isn’t destroying my life.

I’d used his name. In front of my mother.

He pulled into the underground garage and killed the engine.

"You heard," I said.

"I heard." He finally looked at me. "All of it."

"Lucian, I didn’t mean to—"

"I know." He reached over, his thumb brushing my cheekbone. "Don’t apologize. You handled it well. It still felt like you were choosing me."

"I am choosing you." I gripped his shirt. "I don’t care that she’s suspicious. I don’t care that we’re step-siblings. I don’t care about any of it. I care about you."

"And I care about you." His voice cracked. "So much that it terrifies me. Do you understand what she could do? She could tell my father. She could separate us. She could make it so I never see you again, and Eliora, I wouldn’t survive that."

"Then we don’t let her." I pulled back to meet his eyes. "We be more careful. We hide it better. We don’t give her anything else to suspect."

He stared at me. Something shifted.

"I love you," he said. "I don’t care who knows. I don’t care what they call it. I love you, and I’m not stopping."

"Good." I kissed him. "Because I’m not either."

---

He led me to his bedroom and pulled a gray t-shirt from a drawer.

"Change. I’ll make coffee."

I changed quickly. His shirt fell to mid-thigh. I found him in the kitchen, two mugs steaming, staring out at the city.

"Lucian."

He turned. Looked at me in his shirt. Something flared in his eyes before he banked it.

"Come here."

I went. He wrapped his arms around me from behind, his chin on my shoulder.

"We need to be more careful," he said quietly.

"Not if we don’t give her proof. We keep it hidden. We act normal at family dinners. We don’t touch, don’t look at each other too long. We can do this."

"Can we?" His forehead dropped to mine. "Because when you’re in the room, I can’t think about anything else."

"Then we practice." I smiled. "We practice being strangers in public. And in private..." I kissed him, soft. "In private, we don’t have to practice anything."

He kissed me back. Slow at first, then deeper. The coffee steamed forgotten on the counter.

I pulled back. "Lucian, we need to talk." I stepped back. "About us. About what we’re doing."

He went still. "What do you mean?"

I wrapped my arms around myself. "I mean, this." I gestured between us. "What future do we have, Lucian? My mother already suspects. She looked me in the eye and asked if I was falling for my stepbrother. And I couldn’t answer."

"Eliora—"

"And James." I laughed bitterly. "What if James knows everything? He’s reading us like a book."

Lucian’s jaw tightened. "I’ll handle James."

"You’ll handle him?" I stepped back again. "How? By running? By hiding? By pretending this isn’t happening?" I shook my head. "You want to know what the future looks like for us? It looks like a time bomb."

"Then we leave." The words came out flat. "I’ll get a job somewhere else. Another city. Another country where they don’t know us. You finish school, you get your degree, and when you’re done—"

"Oh, this is really unrealistic." I cut him off. "You think disappearing to another city, starting over, that’s a future?" I stepped closer. "Lucian. You have your own problems you won’t even tell me about. And you want to plan a future in another country?"

His face went pale. "Eliora—"

"Don’t ’Eliora’ me." I crossed my arms. "I’ve been asking you to tell me everything. What’s going on with your debts, your payments, all of it. And what do you do? You smile and say ’don’t worry about it.’ You kiss me until I forget what I was asking." I shook my head. "You can’t even tell me what month it is in your own life."

Lucian’s hands came up. "I was trying to protect you."

"I know." I mimicked his voice, then dropped it. "But here’s the thing, Lucian. You can’t build a future on secrets."

The silence stretched between us.

Lucian’s jaw worked. He looked at me, really looked at me, and something in his face cracked.

"The last month’s Friday payment," he said quietly. "I paid that. That debt is cleared. No more pressure on us. No more beatings for now."

I stared at him. "Done?"

"Done." He nodded. "We just agreed on a new monthly payment."

"New monthly payments." I repeated the words slowly. "And how much is that?"

"Twenty thousand. Due by the end of the week." His eyes were steady. "But it’s manageable, Eliora. I’ve been handling it for three years."

"Three years." I felt the weight of that number again.

"I don’t want you worrying."

"I know." I stepped closer. "You never want me to worry. You never want me to know. You just want me to smile and drink your coffee and pretend everything is fine."

"Because everything is fine." He reached for my hand. "The Friday payment is done. We are safe for now. I have my own monthly thing now, and I can handle it."

"But you’re not carrying me along." I squeezed his hand. "That’s the problem, Lucian. Not the debt. Not the money. The fact that you still won’t tell me everything. You still think you have to do this alone."

He looked at me for a long moment. Then he reached up and ran a hand through his hair, his fingers trembling.

"I’m scared," he whispered.

"Then be scared with me." I leaned my forehead against his. "Don’t be scared alone. That’s the only rule. That’s the only thing I need."

I kissed him then, gently. He kissed me back with the same desperation, his hands fisting in my hair, his body pressing mine against the counter.

---

"I’m not going to quit loving you," he breathed against my mouth. "Even if they know. Even if the whole world knows. Even if society rejects us and my father disowns me and your mother never speaks to you again. I’m not going to quit."

"Good." I bit his lower lip. "Because I’m not either."

We stumbled to the bedroom. This wasn’t slow or worshipful. This was survival. Two people clinging to each other in a storm.

His mouth traced my throat. "I love you," he breathed. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

"Good." I pulled the sheet higher. "We’ll figure it out. Together."

He tightened his arms around me. "Together."

---

I was half-asleep when the sound came. Not a knock. A crash.

The apartment door splintering inward. Lucian was off the bed in an instant, shoving me behind him, grabbing his jeans.

"Stay down," he hissed.

Three men entered. Scar-man from before. Two others I didn’t recognize. All of them carried guns.

"We came to remind you," scar-man said, lighting a cigarette. "We visited Noah."

I stiffened behind Lucian.

"You and him," scar-man continued.

Lucian’s back was rigid. "What do you want?"

"Same thing we always want." Scar-man stepped closer. "Money. On time. Every month. You pay on time, we stay away. You act funny, you try to run, you try to hide..." His eyes flicked to me. "We start breaking things. People."

"I paid last month," Lucian said.

Scar-man nodded. "But last time, we had to come remind you. We had to come knock on your door." He shook his head. "We’re not patient people, Lucian. We don’t like coming back."

"I know the rules."

"Do you?" Scar-man smiled. "Because it seems like you’re getting comfortable. Seems like you think because Noah is free, because you paid his debt, that you’re off the hook." He stepped closer. "Don’t think you are both off the hook. You’re the guarantor. You signed for him. You signed for yourself. And now..." He pointed his cigarette at Lucian. "You pay. On time. Every month. Don’t make us come back here."

"I understand," Lucian said.

"Do you?" Scar-man looked at me. His eyes dropped to my bare legs, my rumpled shirt, the bed behind us. Then he laughed. "Because it looks like you’re getting distracted, Lucian. It looks like you’re forgetting who owns you."

He turned to leave. At the threshold, he paused.

"Twenty thousand. End of the week. Don’t be late. And don’t make us come back. Because next time..." His eyes found mine again. "Next time, we won’t just remind you. Next time, someone dies."

Then he left.

---

The door hung crooked. The apartment was silent except for our breathing.

Lucian stood frozen.

I walked to him. My legs were shaking.

"I thought you said they won’t threaten you anymore. Why is this?" I said quietly.

"Eliora, I wanted it to be true!" His voice rose. "I wanted to believe that paying them would actually end this. I convinced myself. And I convinced you. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry."

"Sorry doesn’t fix this!" I shoved his chest. "You said there was no more pressure on Noah. And there isn’t. But what about the pressure on you? What about the debt you’re still carrying? It’s his debt." I grabbed his shirt, pulled him close. "You claim to love me, but you treat me like a stranger. You claim to want a future, but you won’t even tell me what month we’re in."

The silence stretched between us.

Lucian’s face crumpled. "I’m sorry," he whispered. "I don’t know how to do this. I’ve been alone for so long..."

"Then learn." I stepped forward. "Because I’m not going anywhere. But I need you to meet me halfway. I need you to trust me. Really trust me. Not just with your body. With your fear. With your shame."

I reached up and touched his cheek.

"I love you," I said. "All of you. Even the parts that scare me. Even the parts that push me away. But I can’t keep fighting for us if you’re fighting against me. So decide, Lucian. Right now. Are we in this together? Or are you going to keep trying to save me by destroying us?"

He looked at me for a long moment. Then he reached up and covered my hand with his.

"Together," he said. "I’m done being alone. I’m done hiding. Whatever comes next, we face it. Together."

I kissed him then, soft and fierce. And as the rain washed the city clean outside, we stood in the wreckage of his apartment, holding each other, and chose, again and always, to fight.

But as I held him, one thought echoed louder than the rain.

What else don’t I know?

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