Chapter Twenty-Eight
Tyler
I awoke with a groan as I pulled my arm back under me, realizing it was cold.
However, my eyes popped open and I looked around my bed, still partially blind, considering I barely had any idea who I was, before I started searching for someone else.
“Fuck,” I muttered to myself as I sat up, realizing who was missing. I held my head in my hand as I thought back to the night before. Why didn’t I kick her the hell out? I thought, knowing full-well the rule about having women in my bed.
They were always welcome to enjoy the thrills that I had to offer, but there wasn’t a bitch alive who I was supposed to be comfortable spending the whole night with. I wasn’t a one-night stand kind of guy, even with the women that I was interested in pursuing again. I was more like a one hour after sex and your ass had better be out of my bed kind of guy; and an hour was reserved for those who I didn’t want to piss off.
It would have been so damn easy! I told myself as the possibilities flowed freely through my mind. Her room is right down the fucking hall! “What possessed me to…?” I didn’t even need to finish the thought before I growled and tore the rest of the covers off of my still naked form.
Even though I was disappointed in myself for being such a pussy, just as I knew I would be, I couldn’t help but realize that I felt good.
Regardless of how I had scored my stepsister or the precautions that I took to ensure that there might be a next time, I had still added that notch to my bedpost and I felt as though I was on a roll.
I did wonder why I had slept so late, but figured it was the strange idea that there was a woman in my bed that made me break yet another of my rules.
Still, broken rule or not, the pride I felt for myself far surpassed the disappointment for not being able to adhere to the rules of successful fucking that I usually held myself to.
When I walked downstairs, I felt even better than I did when I first woke up. To hell with the rules. After all, you break everyone else’s rules, why not a few of your own?
“Good morning, Tyler,” my mother said.
“Hi Mom…” I answered, waving as I passed the two of them with breakfast plates still in front of them, but long consumed. I guess they were just sitting there staring aimlessly into one another’s eyes like losers. I didn’t understand what the attraction was. Seriously, they were both bat shit crazy. How could they stand each other?
I thought about just leaving and I probably should have, but before I could stop myself, I felt my body pivot back around and my voice ask, “Have either of you seen Ashley?”
“This morning,” my mother answered, smiling as though she was hopeful of something. I hadn’t the faintest clue as to what though and chances were, I would probably prefer to keep it that way. “She wasn’t feeling too good so she left to get some air.”
I nodded and moved to leave, but just as I began to grasp the escape from the clutches of this house, into freedom, I heard my stepfather’s voice behind me.
“Hey, Tyler, is everything okay with Ashley?”
I stopped and momentarily wondered what the hell was going on. I figured I was being paranoid, considering there was no way they could have found out already. And even if they did, who gave a shit? I certainly didn’t.
Still, at the question I felt my shoulders tighten with nervousness and I thought about making a run for it. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time that I had completely ignored that dweeb, but considering the circumstances, I quickly decided that I should probably rethink my first idea. So, once again, I pivoted around and purposefully made myself look menacing, before I shrugged the comment off by saying, “Dude, how the hell would I know? Mom just told me where she was. We didn’t have a damn therapy session or anything last night.”
“She just seemed a little stressed this morning and I thought she might have mentioned it to you?” Her father raised his eyes to me in a serious manner. At first, I thought once again that he knew something that he shouldn’t but I quickly deduced that he was just trying to get me to think he knew something; that is if there was anything to know, which there fucking wasn’t.
So I just went with my instincts and answered, “Yeah, well, to be honest with you, I wasn’t even with Ashley last night. I went out with friends of mine. That’s why I was looking for her. Someone thought she knew her and I wanted to ask about it.”
Her father nodded and answered, “All right, thanks,” Then, after a pause, he added, “She probably does know them. Our family has been friendly with the people in this town for years…since she was a little girl. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if she knew them.”
I wasn’t sure what to say. I certainly had not needed the damn family history, but whatever. I didn’t know what else to do, so I just answered, “It’s cool. I’ll head out to find her myself.” With that I left, so that I wouldn’t have to be subjected to another dragging, pointless conversation. I didn’t know why my family insisted to try to make friends with me. It wasn’t worth it. I didn’t want to make friends. I wanted to make a reputation.
Family had just become important to my mother because it was convenient for her. However, after years of having nothing but cruel things to say about the man who fathered me, not to mention that I was the one who killed him, family seemed like an impossible, hurtful prospect.
I refused to let anyone in. Even though I had my moments when I thought that having a family and being a normal person might be nice, there were far more moments when I was sure it wouldn’t be. Having family or anyone close to you on a level of mutual care only set me up for disaster.
Yet, even as I was thinking about this, I still found myself making my way toward the beach in order to catch a glimpse and possibly talk to my stepsister.
As soon as I walked up over the dunes I saw her. It looked as though she had already muscled her way to the front row of the beach, or she had staked her claim here just in time.
Dammit, she’s beautiful I thought, before I shook the feeling out of my mind. What bothered me about this whole situation was that although I found Ashley hot and sexy, like I found a lot of women, I also found her beautiful in a way that I had never noticed a woman before. I hated the thought, but the closer I grew to her, the more prevalent that thought seemed to become. It sucked.
Still, for longer than I cared to admit, I stood behind her, with her unaware that I was there, so that I could take in her beauty and grace. I felt a connection to her and I absolutely hated it. I didn’t want to have any kind of feeling toward her, besides the feeling of the two of us lying naked together, fucking our brains out. That was the only sensation that I wanted from this bitch and then when I was done, I wanted to be able to walk away.
We were step-siblings, after all, and to have any kind of feeling for one another just wouldn’t be right.
Yet, there was still a sensation that arose inside of me that made me think that we might be able to amount to something more. There was always the idea that we would be able to do whatever we wanted without any consequence one of these days. After all, my stupid mother would probably take her father for everything that he was worth one day and then we would no longer be one big happy fucking family. Then, we would be able to do what we wanted, without connection.
She might hate me then too. I thought, angry at how much I gave a shit.
Shaking away the thoughts that I didn’t want to have, I forced myself to get back in my game, just before I ran up behind her, ready to lay on the player’s charm; no strings attached and no mercy. That’s what I was supposed to be all about and there was no time like the present to get back to my ultimate goals.