Annabelle

 

Matt’s voice was firm and unwavering. He was this immovable mountain that was standing between my father and me.

 

When I was still in junior high, my father had gotten himself remarried. I was just a kid then and I hated the idea that my father would try to replace the beautiful, wonderful angel that was my mother with some other woman. When he’d introduced her to me for the first time, I’d latched onto everything about the woman that was different and twisted it into something to hate.

 

She had dark, thick hair, completely opposite of my mother. It was long and curled down her back in tangled waves that seemed to be all over the place. Her eyes were a dark brown that were almost black, instead of my mother’s blue ones. Her complexion was closer to olive instead of the fair skin of my mother. Even her build seemed different. My mother had been model tall and model thin, built like a rail with tiny little breasts that made her look younger than she already did. But this woman was voluptuous. Maybe not heavy, but definitely curvy in all the places that men appreciated.

 

Men like my father.

 

The woman was young, though. Younger than my own mother had been, and that was one of the biggest things to wrap my hatred around.

 

What sort of man fucked a woman so much younger than he was? It was such a perfect excuse to hate her, that I used it every chance I got. She’s practically my sister, I would shoot snidely at her. But the woman, to her credit, just laughed it off. She would wink at me and say she’d always wanted a sister.

 

It didn’t help her case, at least not with me.

 

I hated her because she wasn’t my mother and because my father had just slid her into that role without so much as a passing question to me. I called her trailer trash because she had lived in a trailer park just outside of Mount Rose before my dad. I called her gold digger because she moved in with my dad after only two months of dating. And I even called her loose because she was unmarried, but had a son who was older than I was.

 

The things I said to her were hateful and completely unfair. But by the time I realized it, by the time I might have tried to fix my mistakes, she was sick. And then she was gone. I’d met her son only once and never bothered to try a second time after that.

 

But now…now I couldn’t stop staring at him.

 

Mateo. Just Matt for short. Samuels, because he’d never taken my father’s name.

 

My eyes traced over his broad shoulders, which I had clung to on more than one occasion as he thrust inside me. I dragged my gaze over his thick, dark hair that I’d gripped in the throes of passion. His body was as desirable as ever—even knowing he was my brother.

 

Stepbrother, a voice in my head told me sternly. There was no blood between us, and while maybe that didn’t make our relationship—if you could call it that—preferred, it didn’t make it wrong or disgusting. We were just two people who had…

 

Who had what? I found myself silently asking. Who had fallen in love? Or who had been physically attracted to one another, fucked like reckless teenagers, and ended up with an unexpected baby? Could that be anything to base a relationship on?

 

I wasn’t sure. Probably, in most cases, the answer was an honest and resounding no. But this was different. Maybe it was just some lingering optimism inside me that was promising this could all work, but I honestly thought Matt felt something more for me than simply a physical lust. Maybe it wasn’t love, not yet, but it could be the beginnings of it. We just needed more time to see where it would go.

 

“This has nothing to do with you,” my father told Matt dismissively, even waving his hand as though he could swat him away like a fly. He turned to me then, his face torn between being stern and sympathetic. I doubted sympathy would win out. “Now, I know you were scared, but you need to come to me next time. I could have taken care of this four days ago and we wouldn’t have had to deal with this problem.” He waved absently at Matt again.

 

I saw anger flash in Matt’s eyes. He stepped forward, ready to tear into my father and lecture him about anything and everything under the sun, but I broke in before he ever got the chance.

 

“This has everything to do with him,” I told him, feeling bolder and stronger standing against my father than I ever had before. Well, technically, I was still lying down, but just confronting him made me feel powerful, even if I was in a hospital bed. My hand went to cover my stomach where I’d been told that the baby was still okay, still going strong. I can still have this baby. “And he’s right: I’m not getting an abortion, Daddy. I’ve decided.”

 

For a moment, my dad looked completely dumbstruck. He was always the man with the first word, the next word, and the last word, but as he stood there now, he looked absolutely speechless. His widened, startled eyes darted between Matt and me, clearly trying to make sense of the whole thing. But he couldn’t seem to make himself work it out in his head. Probably, he didn’t want to.

 

“You’re feeling emotional, I understand,” my dad finally said, trying to make his voice soothing. Really, all he managed was his patent condescension and it made me feel more confident in my decision.

 

This is the right thing to do. I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not feeling emotional,” I argued, though that was partially true. “I took time away from you so I could make a real decision—and I have. I’m keeping the baby.”

 

Matt shot me a look that was all tenderness and fierce pride. He offered me a tight smile that told me he appreciated what I was saying—and that he didn’t think it would be that easy.

 

I had to agree with that sentiment.

 

My father took a deep breath to calm himself, but I couldn’t help but notice that he motioned towards his secretary even as he stepped closer to me. “Honey, please think of your future. College, our plan—”

 

I cut him off as I felt a surge of anger fill me. Our plan? “Your plan,” I corrected hotly. “Your plan for me to go study something I don’t care about, all so I can come home and be your perfect little pawn forever. Well, forget it. This time, I’m making my own decision. This time, I’m doing things right, worthwhile things.” My eyes flickered to Matt, who was eying my father’s secretary, which was what I should have been doing, too. But I was too upset with my father and on too much of a roll, finally telling him off. I didn’t notice as she spoke hurriedly into the phone in clipped, quiet tones. “This baby needs me, Dad. Really needs me. Not for publicity or dinners or smiling for the cameras as you prance around with your rich friends. This baby needs me to take care of it.”

 

The secretary ended her phone call and slipped it into her purse expertly, holding it over her hips easily. She stared at me blankly, though I thought I saw a flicker of remorse there. Maybe it was only my imagination.

 

Dad made a frustrated sound and threw up his arms, standing in the process. I could sense the blow up coming already and braced myself for it. “Don’t be stupid! You’re only a child yourself and you think you can bring up a child?” I opened my mouth to answer, but he just rolled right over me. “Of course not. You’ll fail at that just as you’ve failed at everything else! I do everything I can to make sure you’re set up for the rest of your life and what do you do? Spit it back in my face. Well, I’m not having it.”

 

Anger boiled to the surface, but beneath it was hurt. I didn’t flinch as he flung my perchance for failing back in my face, but that didn’t mean it didn’t still eat me up inside. I had always been a failure to my father unless I was standing there, smiling and quiet in some archaic white dress they buried virgins in. He didn’t want to hear me or deal with me; he just wanted me to look pretty standing beside him.

 

It hurt more than words could describe, but I did my best to let it go. He’s never really cared about me, I reminded myself. This doesn’t matter.

 

So, instead of caving, I took a deep breath and said, “You can’t stop it. Dad, I’m…I’m going to make it work with Matt. We’re going to keep this baby.”

 

My father froze. Matt reached for my hand, encasing within his own larger one. My father watched us like a hawk, realization slow to come, but when it did, he paled. “Together. You both intend to keep this baby?”

 

I nodded, steeling myself for what would come next.

 

My father shook his head. “No. You won’t. You can’t.”

 

Frustration building, I clutched Matt’s hand tighter and lifted my chin. “We can and we will. We’re…” I hesitated a fraction of a second, just long enough to risk a glance over at Matt. He was holding my hand firmly still, his eyes locked on my father, his expression fierce. Maybe it wasn’t true yet and maybe, though I hoped against it, it never would be, but it was the strongest card I had to play. “We’re in love. You can’t stop us.”

 

Matt gave me a quick, surprised look, but didn’t counter me, and quickly looked back to my father. The only real acknowledgement he gave me was the squeeze of his hand around mine. Like he wanted me to know I’d said the right thing.

 

Like maybe he feels this already, I thought, my hopes making me think crazy things.

 

My father, however, had his own brand of reaction. He laughed at me, a booming sound rather than his patent patronizing chuckles. He shook his head and paced several steps before composing himself and turning again to face us. “In love? Are you two crazy?”

 

I opened my mouth to respond, but he stopped me short.

 

“You can’t be in love. You’re brother and sister. That’s disgusting.”

 

I flinched at his words, though they were essentially true. I didn’t look at Matt for fear of what I might find in his own expression, and before he could have the chance to say anything, I quickly jumped in. “Stepbrother. We’re not related by blood. We haven’t done anything wrong. How can you be mad at us for doing the right thing?”

 

My father snorted. “The right thing? No, the right thing is calling the police on the man who kidnapped and impregnated my teenage daughter.”

 

“I’m nineteen,” I snapped, but he ignored me.

 

“The right thing is thinking about your future and how a child at this age will wreck all of that. It’ll flush down all of that hard work we’ve put in. Your upbringing, the private schools, your year at university—all of it. And you’re kidding yourself if you honestly think you’ll go back to school after you’ve had that bastard of a child. And more to the point, you’re a fool if you think this miscreant—my uncouth, unrefined screw up of a son—is going to stick around after the fact. He’s gotten what he wants from you, now he’ll leave. Especially once he realizes the kind of work being a daddy really is.” He shot Matt a smug look. “After all, that’s what his father did.”

 

Matt’s hand ripped itself from mine as Matt launched himself at my father. I had enough time to cry out, “No!” but he was already slamming his fist into my father’s smooth jaw.

 

“You bastard!” my father cried out, holding his nose, which I quickly realized was bleeding.

 

Matt might have kept going after him, maybe hitting him until he blacked out, but the secretary screamed. Before Matt could throw another fist at my father, two police officers burst through the door.

 

The secretary pointed at Matt. “That’s him! Arrest him. He just assaulted the mayor!”

 

The police shoved the secretary out of the way and moved towards Matt. One stopped to make sure my father was okay; he waved the man off, tipping his head back to slow some of the bleeding. The two men went towards Matt, who had moved around to the other side of my bed in an effort to put some distance between himself and those men.

 

“Stop it! Leave him alone!” I yelled at them, furious that they were here and that they’d actually arrest him. Worse still, I was pretty sure my father’s secretary had called them at my father’s request. “He hasn’t done anything wrong!” Well, that probably wasn’t true. He had punched my father in the face and that was technically assault, but my father had been asking for it. Even I knew that.

 

But it didn’t matter what he had or hadn’t done. I wasn’t about to let them take away the father of my baby.

 

The officers came around the side of the bed to try to get to Matt, but he leapt on top of my bed, careful not to stomp on me by accident, and jumped down on the other side. He gave me a lingering look amidst the chaos of shouting voices and police, one that told me he wanted to stay. He’d give anything to stay.

 

“Go!” I shouted at him. I couldn’t let anything happen to him. “Hurry!”

 

Matt raced out the door. The police cursed and headed out after him.

 

I heard their radios crackle and knew instantly they were calling for back up. Furious, I turned to my father. “How could you call the police on him?”

 

“Annie, he’s a dangerous criminal and I—”

 

I cut him off quickly. “You need to leave. You need to leave here right now, and more importantly, you need to call off the police. Matt hasn’t done anything wrong and you have no right to railroad him like this!”

 

My father pursed his lips together tightly, his eyes narrowing at me. “Young lady, if you keep this baby, I will have you disinherited!”

 

For a quick moment, that sent a chill of fear through me. I could lose everything. My family, my cushy, comfortable life. Money to do as I pleased and to get a good college education. My future.

 

But even as these thoughts raced through my head, another and much clearer thought reminded me of the rest of that story.

 

I’m not happy here. I’m not happy with my father. He has spent my whole life controlling me, dictating who I can and cannot be. And now that I’m not perfect, he’s threatening to cut me out of his life completely. I owe nothing to this man anymore.

 

Lifting my chin high, I stared my father down. “We all do what we have to do. I’m only making the choice I can live with. I know that you’ll do the same.”

 

For just a second, my father seemed to freeze. Like he was having his own internal war, debating if I was serious, if I would follow through with it. I didn’t know what conclusion he had come to, but he made his features soften. He offered me a small, conciliatory smile and came to sit on the edge of my bed. When he reached for my hand, I jerked it back, away from his grasp. I no longer wanted anything to do with this man.

 

He held up both hands, palms forward to show me that he was backing off, that he wasn’t trying to cause problems. “All right. Let’s talk about this. I…I was being too rash when I said that. I was angry and concerned. For you.”

 

I scoffed at him. “Please. You’re not concerned for me, just your image.”

 

He shook his head. “No. I know it looks that way, but I promise you it’s not the truth. There’s so much more going on and I know that I’ve failed as a father in that respect. I should have been more encouraging, more open with you emotionally. And I know now it’s difficult to believe this, but I’m on your side.”

 

I stared at him incredulously. What the hell was he going on about? Who was this man and what had he done with my father? “If you’re really on my side, you’ll let Matt go. You’ll call off the cops.”

 

He hesitated for half a second, then gave a quick nod of his head. “All right. Done. If that’s what it takes for us to be a family again, I’m willing to let him do as he pleases. After all, you’re the important thing.”

 

Something in my heart swelled. I’d spent years starved for my father’s love and affection, for his approval. He had worked so hard to groom me into this thing that would meet his standards and I’d fought tooth and nail against it. But secretly, I’d always hoped he was proud. I’d always hoped that in the end he honestly loved me and would love me for who I was.

 

Hearing him say those words to me now, like he honestly meant them, like he was really willing to sacrifice something he didn’t agree with simply for the sake of me…well, it was almost enough to bring tears to my eyes.

 

Almost.

 

There was a wiser part of me that reminded me how he was all about appearances, how he would never be okay with any of this. But really, what could I do right then? I was in the hospital and Matt was on the run. To get Matt out of trouble, I was going to have to trust my father at least this much.

 

I worried at my lower lip for a moment, thinking it through. “You really mean that?” I finally asked, hesitant but hopeful.

 

He smiled at me, one of those smiles that were reserved only for my mother. I hadn’t seen one since her death and it made my heart ache seeing it now. He waved over my secretary, keeping his gaze on me even as he spoke to her. “Call the police. Tell them I’m dropping the charges, that the…young man isn’t who they’re looking for after all. Do it immediately.”

 

His secretary looked just as surprised as I was. Despite being hopeful, I didn’t honestly think he would really do that.

 

Offering a small smile, I said, “Thank you. He really is a good man.”

 

His smile was strained as he gave me a quick nod of his head. “I’m sure he is. But I think we need to go home and talk about this, don’t you? Especially since all this stress is clearly not good for the baby.”

 

I hesitated. What I really wanted was to go back to Matt. I wanted us to be okay, to be together and safe. And now there was all this other stuff to talk about—did us being stepsiblings change things between us? But my father was right. The stress of everything was taking its toll on me and whether my father and I agreed on anything, he was right to say we at least had to talk about it.

 

Maybe I’d never been able to get through to him before, maybe we could never seem to make the other see it our way, but I still had to try. And for once, he seemed open to listening.

 

With a steadying breath, I nodded. “Okay, Dad. Let’s go home.”