“How could I forget anything about you, princess?” His hands are already on my foot, and he slowly moves them up my ankle to my knee as though he’s examining my skin. “Now that I’ve had a good look at you.”
“Well, you’re going to have to try,” I tell him. As I get to my feet, I’m half-expecting him to grab me and go into a full repeat of last night, but he just looks at me, almost as though he’s amused. “I don’t have dinner with nutjobs.”
“I’m not a nutjob.”
“Right. It’s totally normal for a stepdad to jerk off on his stepdaughter’s vagina!”
My voice is loud, but not loud enough that my mom will hear it.
“I took you in because you were a package deal, princess. You came with your mother. I was never looking to be your father.” He smiles. “But I will be your daddy.”
His words jolt me. “I’ll be going to bed now, Baron. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave me alone.”
I turn and stomp away from him. As I reach the stairs, he manages to get the last word. “I know what’s good for me. And I’m looking right at it.”
Just to pour salt on the wound, my cheeks start to blush as I make my way up to my room. First me makes me come, and then he makes me blush. What is wrong with me? Obviously Baron knows something about me that I don’t, but how could he? How could anyone know me better than I know myself?
Maybe he is just that good with people, and that’s why he’s so successful. Maybe he was right about Harry, and Baron is just the lesser of two evils. That still doesn’t explain why he thought he could do what he did to me.
But he was trying to teach me some kind of lesson. Not to prance around in front of him with skimpy clothes on? Or not to hang out with guys? Sure, maybe I was doing the first one on purpose to annoy him, but not to…”get his dick hard” as he said. And why can’t I hang out with a guy my own age who’s interested in me?
God. I feel so emotionally manipulated. It’s like I’m standing on a tightrope over a stormy ocean and one wrong step will send me tumbling into the sea, never to be seen again.
I climb into bed, take several deep breaths, and tell myself to forget about him. He may have owned my body, but I won’t let him own my mind. But try as I might, Baron invades my mind like a virus. Every thought is of him. Last night’s incident replays in my mind, over and over and over, and with terrible betrayal, my body responds.
I twist my legs and feel the wetness beginning to spread across my thighs. Maybe under different circumstances, what Baron did to me could be considered hot. Maybe.
The heat grows and becomes impossible to ignore. Minutes ago I was shivering from the cold, and now I have to toss my comforter aside to let my body cool down.
Is this how he wants me to feel? Conflicted? Tortured? Angry at myself for having a physical response to him? That would be so twisted that even after he did I can’t believe that would be his intent. Only a movie villain would be so Machiavellian.
No, there has to be more to him than that. He’s done all this for a reason. He could have taken me last night and had his way with me completely, but he didn’t. Surely that says something about his character? He wanted to protect me from Harry and clearly resented me for turning him on while being his stepdaughter. And he came out and brought me home. Maybe there is good in him…Luke saw good in his father, even after he served the Empire for years, right? Maybe that’s the same sort of thing here.
God, I’m such a nerd. This is real life, not Star Wars, and my stepfather isn’t Darth Vader. He’s just a guy who took advantage of me, and I need to remember that.
7
Pixie
I hate myself for acknowledging Baron’s absence when I wake up and go downstairs. His office is empty, and his car’s gone. I should be overjoyed, but for some reason I feel like something is missing, as I’d prepared myself for dealing with him today.
As I’m pouring myself some cereal, my mom comes downstairs, her cheeks practically glowing and a ridiculous smile on her face. There’s no question what she’s excited about.
“What a wonderful morning!” she exclaims. I glance outside at sky, still cloudy, and the rain, still pouring.
“Yeah, in Florida maybe.”
“What’s a little rain?” She shrugs, taking the box from my hand and pouring herself a bowl. “It makes the flowers grow!”
“Could you be any more obvious, Mom?”
“What do you mean, dear?”
The boundaries in this house are starting to collapse quickly. I need to do something to restore them, or I’m going to go insane.
“Mom, if you want to step out on your marriage, that’s fine. But don’t come down here glowing and wanting to share. I’m your daughter, not your best friend.”
“Well, it’s not like I can share with my husband!” she laughs.