Fake It ‘Til You Break It

Never once has my father ever reached out to me with the intention of asking me to come to his new house for a visit, the house he bought with the money he seduced my mother into giving him, money left to her from her family.

The shitty part is he doesn’t even need it. His new wife is worth even more, but he’s a greedy prick, and nothing is ever enough for Nikole Sykes.

The fact that he pulled some shit on my mom and still called me to come here is fucking with my head and bad.

I’ve been driving up and down his neighborhood for a half hour now, my leg bouncing against the seat, fingers tapping against the steering wheel, I’m so stressed the fuck out, and I hate myself for it.

I hate how he still has a way of getting under my skin when I do my best to pretend his existence and all that goes with it means nothing.

He’s nothing.

There’s no doubt in my mind he’s aware I found my mom under the mountain of paperwork he left her with. He knows I know what he’s trying to do, even if I’m still missing pieces. Not that he cares, but still.

Invite me here for a fight in front of his wife who probably has no fucking clue he’s still screwing his ex when it’s convenient for him?

To say I’m on edge is an under-fucking-statement.

At first I flat-out refused, but when he used my mom as a threat against me, I had no choice but to cave to the asshole.

Who knows what he’ll pull on her next time I’m out of the house. I’ve already fallen even more days behind in school because of him and his latest stunt, I can’t afford to miss any more. He knew I’d take the time to try and figure out what exactly he accomplished by getting those documents signed.

I spent hours going over the paperwork he left, but it was all out of order and seemed pages were missing to the point where I couldn’t make any sense of it. I’m not a damn lawyer and most legal terms are lost on me, so it was more wasted time than not.

It didn’t help that whatever it was he gave my mom had her vomiting and sluggish into the next day. I’m the only one she has who cares about her, so of course I was at her side through it. I had to feed her more meds when she started shaking and getting even sicker once they began to wear off, so the two days that followed the first were spent watching my mom sleep and wishing she’d wake with a clearer mind than the one she’d laid down with.

He’s getting more reckless with her and I have no clue how to end it. Denying his request wouldn’t help any, that much is clear.

So here I am, parked outside of his place, glaring at the long walkway that leads to the front door, a giant ass welcome wreath hanging from the center of it.

I pull my phone out to check the time, but before I realize what I’m doing, I’m dialing Demi.

My muscles constrict even more when she doesn’t answer.

I haven’t talked to her since she came to my house, and it feels like too long already. She showed up, worried because I had disappeared. I should have taken the time to call her when I was out, but when shit at home gets so fucked up, I get lost.

I fuckin’ hate it.

There’s no way she didn’t see the prescribing doctor’s name on the pill bottles, and I need to prepare to talk to her about that.

I toss my phone to the side and look up again.

Fuck it.

I climb from my truck, taking my steps two at a fucking time.

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.

“Nico,” 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 green 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.”

Alex smirks, and I force myself to glance back to Demi.

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. Davenport and asked her family to join mine for dinner.”

In my peripheral, I see Demi’s head jerk toward her mom.

My dad continues, “We were just discussing formal next week, and the possibility of Alex being Demi’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—”

She cuts off when her mom grips her by the arm.

Demi pulls her foot back the half a step forward she had started to take.

“Oh, honey, don’t be silly.” Her mother tugs her closer, an undertone to her words that can only be interpreted as a warning.

My pulse spikes, but I force myself to stay put, keep fucking calm because the last thing I’m about to do is give anyone in this room the satisfaction of witnessing my anxiety.

Demi, though, she surprises me when she tugs free from her mom and steps away. Despite how pissed off and confused she is right now, my baby attempts to clear the air. “I’m not sure what my mom told you, Mr. Sykes, but I think there’s been some confusion.”

“Are you not dating my son?” He cocks his head to the side mockingly.

“Yes. Your son, not your stepson.” She cuts a quick glance my way, uncertainty in her eyes but confidence in her words. “I’m with Nico.”

My dad isn’t deterred. “Is Nikoli taking you to the dance, Demi?” he asks her.

She hesitates, her eyes snapping toward mine.

Is that not an obvious answer?

She keeps her focus on me as he adds, “Has he so much as mentioned it, let alone asked you himself?”

Doubt creeps over her and my throat begins to itch.

I glance across the room, from my dad’s silent, porcelain wife to Demi’s carbon copy mother. From Alex to my dad, my eyes settling on Demi last.

“Nico and I are going together.” Her answer is straightforward, but it kills me to hear it.

She had to be careful with her words, not let on that, no, I haven’t mentioned it, and no we haven’t spoken of it at all.

I know what she’s thinking.

Am I really going to stand here and not say a word? Not confirm I’m hers and she’s mine, allow Alex to think she’s free game when she’s anything but.

Why the fuck am I playing statue?

Why haven’t I grabbed her and drug her from this toxic place already?

Maybe I want to test her when I have no right to, maybe the pressure of being in my dad’s house with his new wife and chosen son is too much, or perhaps it’s that her mother so quickly disregarded my being what her daughter wants when she realized Alex fucking Hammons, my unclaimed, bitch of a stepbrother wanted her, too.

Whatever the reason, I say nothing at all, forcing an emotionless expression when all I really want to do is fall at her feet and erase the hurt in her eyes.

Alex, though, he opens his mouth.

“You know, I was surprised when I found out you two were hanging out.” Alex smirks and pushes to stand.

The fucker dares walk closer to her with me standing right here.

He’s baiting her and damn if she doesn’t fall for it, unable to hold back in asking, “Why is that?”

“It’s just, everyone knows Nico to be a bit of a hothead, so it was interesting he didn’t tear into me when I told him, and most of the guys on the team, I was planning on asking you out.”

Demi’s eyes fly to mine and narrow before she slowly moves them back to Alex. “That is interesting. When was this… exactly?”

My stomach muscles tighten and I grow light-headed.

Fuck.

This is not how I wanted this to happen.

“After our Thursday night game,” Alex tells her, sliding his hands in his pocket like the prick, preppy boy he is. “You know, the night Nico gave you a ride home, and I called to ask if I could come by?”

Instead of focusing on what he wants her to, she asks, “How did you know Nico gave me a ride?”

His pretty boy smile slips, but only for a second before he realizes and puts it right back in place. He lifts his hands. “You caught me. I saw you get in his truck, got worried I’d miss my shot and called you.”

I fucking knew it.

That’s the one and only reason he called her that night. To take her attention from where it could have possibly been, on me.

“Wait… the Thursday game…” Demi trails off, shaking her head.

Tension wraps around my body, making it harder to breathe.

Alex has no problem clearing it up for her.

“Yeah, the week before Krista’s birthday weekend, before you and Nico got together?” He chuckles, but the malice within it is easy to find. “I should’ve made it by that night, and maybe asked you then, huh?”

Demi’s eyes fall to the hardwood, and she rubs her lips together anxiously, before lifting her stare to mine. “Yeah… maybe.”

Anger builds in the pit of my stomach, my eyes twitching and unable to meet hers while desperately wanting to.

I fucked up.

“Competition between siblings, it’s quite healthy,” my dad says loudly. “I bet had you known of Alex’s intentions in advance, Demi, you would have made a wiser choice, am I correct?”

I keep my head straight, but cut my eyes to her, my pulse beating like crazy while my skin starts to crawl. I need to get out of here before I’m gutted, fucking torn apart from the inside out, for all these assholes to see.

Demi’s smile is tight, and I prepare myself for the sickening gleam that will fill my father’s eyes when the son he’s chosen is chosen or agreed upon by her, be it in anger or in truth.

It doesn’t matter, it’ll sting the same.

She opens her mouth, my chest tightening more and more by the second, but then she clamps it shut.

Demi shakes her head, anger clouded by fresh tears, transforming my favorite shade of green into a murky mess it slays me to see.

She moves her focus to my dad, pity leaking into every word spoken. “I’m not even sure how to respond to such a foul question, Mr. Sykes.” She’s quiet but resilient. “Your obvious and ill-placed insult of your own son makes me sick, and I’m positive the answer isn’t one you want to hear anyway.”

Her mother gasps while my heart threatens to tear from my chest.

Demi turns to Alex next. “I’m not going to formal or anywhere else with you. The fact that you so easily disregarded how you already have a date to formal who, I’m sure, is excited to go, speaks to how shitty of a person you are.”

“Demi!” her mom shrieks.

Demi rolls her eyes and looks to her mom. “And, seriously, Mom. Will you ever stop?”

“Demi!” she hisses.

Demi isn’t discouraged. “Quit trying to use me to set yourself up. Be happy for me and what I want or back the hell off,” she snaps.

Demi spins, pins me with a heavy glower that warns me not to follow and storms out.

I’m stuck until the door slams with her exit, and then I fucking chase her.

I catch her rushing down the driveway.

“Demi,” I call, but she hustles even more. “Baby, wait!”

Suddenly she halts, a little growl leaving her as she spins and stalks toward me. Eyes heated and ready to fight. “I cannot believe you pulled this shit!” She shoves me, but I don’t budge. “You knew he was planning to ask me out before you suggested we pretend to be together!”

“Yeah. I did,” I say unapologetically, and fear gets the best of me. “What, you mad? Now you know he wanted you all on his own, you ready to say fuck it and run to him?”

“Did it look like that’s what I was ready for?!” she shouts, throwing her arms out. “I was the only one speaking for us in there, or should I say the us I thought we were.”

“What the fuck does that mean? All the shit that was said between us goes out the fuckin’ window now that all you originally wanted got dropped in your lap?!”

“Don’t.” A quick breath hisses past her mouth.

I know my words aren’t fair, but this is what I’ve feared, her walking away from me.

“Don’t you dare try to turn this on me. You played me this entire time.”

My head tugs back, shock sending a zing down my spine. “What? No! Fuck no!”

“Yeah, Nico, you did.” She nods. “Maybe something changed along the way, or maybe everything you’ve said and we’ve done was a part of the lie, but from the first fucking day, this was about using me to get to him. Admit it.”

What the fuck?!