Page 63 of The Unexpected

Brenda leans in, conspiratorial. “Honestly, he’s the reason I even started going back to church. I told your father about it—‘You’ve got to meet Lachlan, he’s just wonderful with young people. He went through so much himself as a young person, so he’s incredibly mature.’” She gives another laugh, not even a hint of bitterness. “And your dad loves the idea of helping others. That’s why he’s so invested in these fundraisers, you know? He thinks they keep the world from falling apart.”

I gargle a little. It feels like the world is falling apart just fine on its own.

“So Dad knows about this.”

Brenda waves a hand in the air.

“Of course, Thomas knows. Thomas is the man who got you the assistant pastor job, Lachlan. I sent him a note around the time you were graduating from divinity school, and just sang your praises. So Thomas got the board to interview you, Lachlan, and now here you are.”

Lachlan stares at my mom.

“Your ex-husband got me my job.”

My mom beams happily.

“I wouldn’t say that, exactly. Thomas helped you get a foot in the door by forwarding your resume to the relevant members of the board, but you aced your interviews and earned this position on your own merit. You were amazing, from what I heard. They loved you.”

Lachlan stares at her.

“But you never said anything. Thomas either.”

“Of course not!” my mom says in a breezy tone. “There’s so much backlash against nepo babies these days, and you’re not a nepo baby, Lachlan. Let’s just say that me and Irma felt guilty about what happened to you after your father passed. We didn’t want to send you off to boarding school, but my mom couldn’t handle you, and I was getting started as a young professional with my first job. We couldn’t care for a grieving, teenage boy, so you were sent to Riverside Academy. It was fine. But consider this our way of making it up to you. Now, you’ve landed on your feet and Thomas tells me that the congregation loves you, Lachlan. Congratulations.”

The blonde man is red in the face now, and looks like he’s going to explode.

“Hold on. Let me clarify. My interview was never one of random chance. They didn’t pick me for my merits. They picked me for my connections.”

“Oh, you’re being so dramatic,” my mom says. “Let’s just say Thomas put your resume on the top of the stack. That’s all. He didn’t tell them that you were his ex-wife’s younger step-brother. It’s such a weak connection anyways, so there’s no need to disclose something like that.”

By now, the top of Lachlan’s head looks ready to blow off.

“Holy fuck,” he curses darkly. “Shit.”

“It’s fine,” Brenda soothes. “Everything worked out, and that’s what matters.”

Lachlan and I share a horrified glance because obviously, my mom doesn’t know that we’re in a steamy, intimate sexual relationship which also happens to include another man. And that other man is my stepbrother on my dad’s side, Hunter Roberts!

Holy shit!

What in the world is going on?

I’m frozen, my face drained of all color, my hands clenched in my lap as my mom burbles on about something or other. Has the world gone crazy? Is the Earth now flat, and tilting to one side as I slip off the edge and into insanity?

Lachlan finally turns to look at me. His eyes are the same blue as always, but there’s something else there, a haunted quality. “Did you know, Stella?” he asks, voice so quiet I can barely hear it over the heartbeat in my ears.

I shake my head, once, sharply. “No.” I look down at my knees, hands clenched so tightly the veins stand out. “Not until tonight.”

There’s a long silence, the kind that only families can generate. Brenda doesn’t seem to notice; she just keeps going, a river in flood. “It’s not even that weird, really. I mean, lots of family lose touch over the years, and besides, we’re not close family. You and Lachlan aren’t actually related—no shared DNA. So really, it’s not that odd. But isn’t it funny, Stella? All these years and the two of you never met until now.” She shakes her head, the movement making her hair shimmer. “The universe is wild.”

I want to say something, anything, but my brain is busy replaying every filthy, depraved act I’ve ever done with both men in the last three months. I can see it all: the time Hunter made me kneel on the marble kitchen counter, his cock splitting me open while Lachlan watched from the other side, a glass of whiskey in hand. The night Lachlan tied my wrists behind my back with a church stole and forced me to confess every sin in graphic detail while Hunter fucked me in the ass for my sins. The mornings where both of them would wake me by pushing their fingers into me and making me moan, not even asking, just assuming I would want it because I always did.

I remember all of our alleged “counseling sessions.” The “Bible studies.” I remember the way Hunter’s semen tasted different from Lachlan’s, the way their bodies left different bruises on my hips and thighs. I remember the way it felt to be filled, sometimes at both ends, sometimes in every hole, by two men whom I adored.

Now, the category changes. Now, the word step-uncle is stuck in my mouth like peanut butter, and I can’t swallow around it.

My hand shakes so badly that the champagne flute rattles against the stone bench.

Brenda finally notices, her expression shifting to concern. “Stella? Are you all right?”