Page 1 of His Little Stowaway

Chapter One

Brynn

Feeling good about myself for just beating the rain as I turn the corner to our apartment block, I notice my body sag when I see his car parked out front.

Steve.

The first few heavy drops of cold rain hit my face, feeling more like spit from the ‘I told you so’ gods.

Mom’s boyfriend, who’s become something of an obsession for her lately. Or rather, she’s become an obsession of his.

Always around. Always on my case.

Like he’s the boss of me somehow now that he’s dated my mom for a few months.

I told myself it wouldn’t last, but a little voice inside me was screaming something else.

Run. Run for your freaking life.

Sure I’m glad mom’s found some happiness in her life for once, I really am. But seriously. Steve?

I don’t even know his last name and I’m pretty sure mom doesn’t either and yet things seem to be getting tighter between those two by the freaking day.

I told you so.

My steps slow, almost so I’m dragging my feet. Not even wanting to climb the few steps to our ground floor apartment.

The closer I get, the more I can hear them. The sound of a champagne cork popping, which makes my stomach twist. Like I’m gonna be sick if I take another step.

I can hear Steve laughing over my mom, who sounds cheerful but nowhere near as excited as he sounds.

Don’t do it. Don’t go in there. Just… Run. Go, Leave.

That nagging voice? It’s at the front of my mind now. My own clear thinking and not just some wishful, ‘why can’t mom just date someone else’ thing.

It really feels like if I go inside, if I do something as simple as come home for the day, my whole life will be over.

That everything will change.

Ignoring every instinct, I take a breath, and growling under it, I open the front door.

I’ve run my whole life, mom and I both have.

At first, I never knew why, but as I got older and she explained how my dad used to treat her, I thought I understood.

Getting older still, I was never a hundred percent sure if we were in any real danger at all, or if it was just in my mom’s vivid imagination.

But my go-to response, whenever things get tough or scary is...Run.

“Brynn!” My mom calls out, leaping up from the couch as I try to slink past them on my way to my room.

I drop my bag, not even hiding my sigh of resignation.

I can feel Steve’s eyes on me long before my eyes meet his.

Glancing at my mom she has a beaming smile, like someone who’s just won the lottery.

“We’ve got great news,” she almost squeals, practically dancing as she reaches out and grabs hold of me before thrusting her hand under my nose.

“Look! Steve proposed. We’re gonna get married! Isn’t that just great?”

I feel the space in my chest where air should be. Where my breath just was. But now I can’t.

I can’t even breathe anymore. Like the wind’s been knocked or punched right out of me.

Told you so.

“Look Steve,” Mom gushes, one hand over her chest with the other still thrust out in front so she can show off the speck of a diamond on her bony finger.

“She’s in a state of shock… Like I was, but Brynn? It’ll be the best. Steve said we can move into his place. On account of his son Brad moving away to college. A real house Brynn… in the suburbs.”

I feel pressure at the front of my head, my fingers pressing into my temples as I feel the room starting to sway.

The sound of Steve getting up and coming over to my mom makes me stagger back.

“Brynn?” My mom asks. “Brynn, what is it?”

“Shock. Like ya said, Jennifer,” Steve echoes before gripping her around the shoulder and pulling her to him, looking right at me with shining steel gray eyes.

“Mister and Missus Steve Riggs,” he beams loudly, leaning down to plant a wet kiss on my mom’s cheek, making her blush.

They’re both right. I am in a state of shock.

Did he just say, Riggs? Steve… and his son, Brad Riggs?

Before I ask, before I even think I have to or should even ask, I know.

Those cold gray eyes, the tall, lumbering frame that carries some extra weight. Way more than I’ve ever been teased about.

The slick of brown hair parted to one side. That long and pointed, strangely shaped nostrils.

Before even being introduced to his son, Brad, I know I’ve already seen him. A thousand times without even knowing it.

Steve’s son, Brad, has been the source of my teenage angst for almost five years. Finally finished now that school is done.

Or so I thought.

My mom and Brad Riggs’ dad?

Married?

I feel myself starting to retch and without a word, I dash for the bathroom, dry heaving until tears are streaming down my face.

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