Temporarily Mine

34

The quicker I get in, the quicker I can get the hell out.

This isn't my house and I know I'll never truly be welcome here, but I walk in without knocking anyway.

Respecting this place is the last thing on my mind, so I don't bother with closing the door, allowing it to slam shut behind me as I walk through the entryway, following the voices floating from around the corner.

"That must be my other son now."

Other son.

Please. I have no brother.

Man, fuck this.

I lick my lips, stand straight and mask my fucking face before moving into view.

The little bitch is the first one I spot, and his eyes meet mine, a sick, satisfied gleam staring back as he sits beside my dad as if it's where he belongs.

Maybe it is. On the inside they're one and the same. Both as fucked up and manipulative as the other.

"Hero," my father says, pushing off his place against the wall.

I step farther into the room giving him nothing but a blank stare.

"Don't be rude, son." He's gotten good at acting, his smile comes off generous, but his eyes are as vicious as always. He sweeps his hand out and says, "We have guests."

Right as he says it, a little hand with pink polished nails folds over the edge of the high-backed chair facing away from me.

Inch by inch, long, dark blonde hair from scalp to tip appears, a frame I'd recognize anywhere that has no place in this living room.

My feet grow numb yet heavy, my body swaying in place as my lungs squeeze in my chest, blocking my airway.

Time fucking slows, my veins running cold when slowly, her head turns, those blue eyes needing no directing, but landing right on mine.

I've never witnessed such an array of emotions flash across a person's face and so quickly.

Anger, disappointment, discomfort.

Sadness.

Confusion.

Concern.

Fear?

What are you afraid of, baby?

I want to step toward her, but I'm rooted in place, fucking frozen.

"I didn't know you had a brother," she says, her tone cool and collected when she's anything but.

My eyes move between hers, a sharp ache puncturing between my ribs, a pain so strong I have to look away, my glare settling on the asshole she's referring to. "I don't."

Andrew smirks, and I force myself to glance back to Josephine.

Her face contorts, but she doesn't say a word, and in the next second, her mom is standing beside her.

My eyes cut to my dad. "What is this?"

"I called Ms. Langford and asked her family to join mine for dinner."

In my peripheral, I see Josephine's head jerk toward her mom.

My dad continues, "We were just discussing formal next week, and the possibility of Andrew being Josephine's date."

Anger pulls at my every muscle, and my eyes fly to her.

She slowly shakes her head, looking from my dad to me. "That's not--"