stepbrother two, jewel crotan [best ereader for textbooks txt] 📗

big fuck you to all of us. To me.”

He crossed the room then in two long strides, pushing his body back up against mine. “I told you that’s not how it happened.”

“It is how it happened, Cole,” I said. My voice broke, and I hated that I was showing him how upset I was. “You just…you left me.”

I couldn’t help it. I started crying then, and he pulled me toward him, enveloping me in his arms. I hated that I liked it, hated how safe and protected I felt now that he was holding me. I hated that I suddenly felt like I needed him, after I’d spent years trying to prove to myself that I didn’t.

“Avery,” he whispered, stroking my hair. “I had to leave. It had to be that way. I’m not good for you.”

“You’re not good for me?” I asked. “What is that supposed to mean?”

He shook his head slightly, like he didn’t want to go there. But that was too bad. He was going to have to. “What does that mean, Cole?” I pressed. “What does that mean, you’re not good for me?”

“There are certain things about me that I couldn’t subject you to.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said. “And honestly, it sounds like a load of bullshit, one of those things people say when they’re trying to justify some shitty thing they did. If there’s something about you that you don’t like, Cole, can’t you just change it?”

“No.” He shook his head. “No, I can’t change it, Avery. Trust me.”

“I don’t trust you,” I said, and I could feel myself starting to get emotional again, could feel the tears filling my eyes.

“Good.”

“Good?” I repeated. “Good? You know, Cole, you’re really –”

The phone on his desk buzzed, and Kalia’s voice buzzed through the speaker. “Mr. Buchanan?” she asked briskly.

Cole walked over to his desk, pushed the button on his phone. “Yes?”

“There are two policemen here to see you.”

Cole frowned. “Policemen?”

“Yes, sir. They said they have some questions for you.”

“Questions about what?” Cole demanded.

“They didn’t say.”

“Well, find out.”

“One moment.”

Cole and I sat there in silence, the tension filling the room. We’d been through the police coming to our house enough growing up, answering the door to find them lugging Gordon’s drunk ass up the stairs, or telling us to keep it down because of a noise complaint.

But this was different.

We were kids then, and the police were coming to talk to our parents.

 

Now we were adults, and the police were coming to talk to Cole.

The phone buzzed again and Kalia’s voice came over the line. “They’d like to ask you some questions about Avery Buchanan.”

My heart sank. They were here to ask about me. Which meant Gordon was behind whatever the police were here to talk to Cole about.

“Thank you, Kalia,” Cole said. “I’ll be right out.” He pushed the button again and ended the connection.

“Lie, “ I said.

“What?”

“You have to lie. I’ll back you up. Say you never punched him, say you weren’t even –”

“I’ll do no such thing,” Cole said. “If my father wants to get me arrested for assault, by all means, let him try.” He shook his head. “But trust me, he doesn’t care about me. Not enough to try and get me arrested.”

“He doesn’t?” I asked, puzzled.

“No.”

“Then what does he care about?”

“Money. And you.”

He turned and walked through his office door, and I stood there for a moment, trying to connect my bearings. And then, after a moment, I followed him.



***



There were two policemen waiting in the lobby, both of them on the younger side, probably in their early 30s. They were NYPD, not cops from my little town in New Jersey, and the sight of the NYPD logo that was embossed on their baseball hats filled me with trepidation.

“Mr. Buchanan,” the first cop said, holding his hand out to shake Cole’s hand. “I’m Officer Freidman, and this is Officer Marks.”

Cole nodded his head and took the officer’s outstretched hand, but he didn’t give them a smile or greeting.

“Mr. Buchanan, we got a report about your sister, Avery Buchanan,” Officer Friedman said. “We were told that you caused a disturbance at her residence and she took off under some duress.”

“What?” I blurted, before I realized none of them had been talking to me. “That’s ridiculous. I’m Avery Buchanan, and I’m not in any duress.” What were they talking about? Did they think Cole had forced me to leave with him, that he’d kidnapped me or something?

“Avery,” Cole said, his voice even. He shot me a warning look, and I could tell what he meant. Shut up. The first rule of dealing with law enforcement – anything you said could and would be used against you. So you never gave the cops anything, because you couldn’t be sure what information they actually knew, and what information they were hoping to trick you into giving them.

“You’re Avery Buchanan?” Officer Marks asked, speaking for the first time. He had blue eyes and a full head of dark curls.

“Yes,” I said. “And as you can see, I’m fine.”

I watched as his eyes took me in, his gaze lingering on the splint on my wrist, the fact that I was dressed in casual clothes that were too tight instead of the professional attire everyone else here was wearing.

“Can I speak with you for a minute, Avery?” Officer Marks asked, giving me a friendly smile. “Is there a place I can speak with Avery alone?” he asked Cole.

“Of course,” Cole said smoothly, gesturing to the doors we’d just come through. “There’s a conference room down the hall on the left.”

Once we were in the conference room, Officer Marks turned serious. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” I gave him a smile and hoped my face didn’t look too puffy from crying.

“What happened to your wrist?”

“Oh,” I said, looking down at it. “I fell.”

“You fell?”

“Yes. Yesterday.”

“How did you fall?” he asked. He took off his NYPD hat, and his tone was now casual and light. It was obvious he was trying to make me feel like I could trust him, that I could tell him if Cole was holding me against my will or hurting me.

“I slipped on some water.”

He nodded, seemingly accepting this, but I could see the doubt in his eyes. He was still looking at my wrist, and his gaze traveled up my arm to where there were red marks from the way Cole had been grabbing me earlier.

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Did my stepfather say Cole hurt me or something?” I asked. “Because it’s not true.”

“Your stepfather was very concerned about you,” he said. “He was confused as to why you would take off for New York, leave your life and your job back home.”

I almost laughed out loud. This guy had been snowed. Of course, I couldn’t really blame him. Gordon had probably made a call to the police in New York, police who had no idea who he was. Back in Jersey, he wouldn’t have been able to act like he was so worried about me, because the cops would have seen right through it. They knew he didn’t give a shit about me or my mom or Cole.

“Is that what he said? That I left my life and job back home?”

“Yes. And with your brother’s past record, we –”

“Stepbrother,” I interrupted him. “And what record?”

“Your brother’s criminal record. The breaking and entering, the burglary…” He trailed off. “You did know about that, didn’t you?”

“Of course,” I lied. Cole had a criminal record? Since when? And why hadn’t he told me about it? “But I can assure you I’m fine.” As much as I wanted to ask more questions about Cole’s record, I knew it would just bring more problems. I didn’t owe the police anything. They were here trying to make it seem like Cole had done something nefarious to me, when in reality, he’d saved me.

“Okay,” Officer Marks said, shrugging like it was nothing to him. But I could see right through his casual attitude. I’d dealt with enough social workers and authority figures to know they sometimes acted like they didn’t care if you told them something in an effort to get you to tell them something.

Officer Marks reached into his pocket and pulled out his card, handed it to me. “Here’s my card,” he said. “Call me if anything changes.”

“Thanks,” I said, taking it. “But it won’t.”

He opened the door to the conference room and I followed him back through and down the hallway. When we got back to the lobby, Cole was talking to the other officer in a low voice. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I could tell from his tone he was annoyed.

“All set?” Cole asked when he saw us.

“Yes,” I said, making sure to keep my voice firm just in case the cops got any ideas about hanging around and asking more questions.

But fortunately, they didn’t. Instead, hey thanked us for our time and then left.

As soon as they were gone, Cole turned to the receptionist, who had been standing there pretending not to be eavesdropping as she answered calls.

“Hold my calls, Jacinda,” Cole said.

“Even – ”

“Yes, Jacinda.”

Cole disappeared back through the heavy oak doors into the hallway, and I followed him. But before we could get to his office, he turned around.

“Go home, Avery.”

I swallowed. “Home?”

“Back to my apartment.”

Relief flooded through me at the idea that he still wanted me to stay with him. But I tamped it down. I needed to stay away from him, especially after what had just happened – not only had we hooked up in his office, but now cops had been sniffing around. Things were getting out of control. “I don’t think that’s a good –”

“Jesus, Avery!” he said. “Knock off your shit. My father is obviously planning something, and you need to stay safe until we figure out what it is.”

“And you think I’m safe with you?”

“And you think you’re not?” He gave me an expectant look, daring me to contradict him. And the thing was, I couldn’t. I didn’t think Cole was going to hurt me. I wasn’t sure why, since he’d obviously just been screwing with me back in his office, but still, deep down, I knew he wouldn’t hurt me.

“I’m not sure.”

“Avery. Go. Back. To. My. Apartment.”

And then he turned around and walked down the hall, leaving me staring after him.



***



I did what he said. I didn’t want to, but I had no choice.

You do have a choice. You always have a choice. You could have left home a while ago if you’d really wanted to, but you stayed because of your mom. You don’t have to go to Cole’s, you could find a job and an apartment and a roommate. You could go to a homeless shelter if you really needed to.

The thoughts swirled around my head, forming a cloud of confusion that kept leading me back to the same conclusion – that I wanted to be here with Cole. It made no sense, but it was the truth.

The doorman in the lobby of Cole’s building was expecting me, and I used the key Cole had left with him to let myself in. The apartment felt different now, quieter, and I dropped my purse onto the leather ottoman in the foyer and made my way to the kitchen.

I opened the refrigerator, suddenly starving.It was stocked with freshly cut fruits and vegetables, organic deli meats, fresh-pressed juices, and plastic containers of salad. I wrinkled my nose. Since when had Cole become such a healthy eater?

I abandoned the fridge and headed for the