Book9-11
But Angela shakes her head, her expression vicious.
“I’ve been living in poverty while all this time, you’ve been boinking two billionaires. I think there’s something in there for Mommy, don’t you agree? Come on,” she hisses again while jerking on my wrist. And with that, all hope for a peaceful resolution evaporates as we barrel into the restaurant where my lovers await.
Rick
My dad glances at the commotion at the front of the restaurant, and his face twists with disgust. “I’d know that screech anywhere,” he says sourly. “Boys, it’s Angela. Your former stepmother.”
Furrowing my brow, I squint, trying to see. Sure enough, there’s a scrawny, stick-thin blonde waving her arms about while speaking in a loud, shrill voice. Her hair is molded into a helmet whereas her cheap-looking, hot pink stilettos look as though they could snap any minute. I squint. Do I know this woman?
Suddenly, it all comes back to me. Yes, my dad was married to an Angela while my brother and I were in high school, but that Angela was beautiful and fresh, even if she was a witch. Clearly, time has not been kind to the woman. Too many hours on the tanning bed have left her skin leathery and orange, and her highlights are chunky and outdated.
“What’s she doing here?” Ryder growls, his brow lowered. But at that moment, Angela sees us and makes eye contact. I shudder internally because there’s something not right about her. Her gaze has the intensity of a berserker, like someone hell-bent on their mission.
Angela begins stomping toward us, dragging along a figure in her wake, and suddenly, we get a clear view of who it is. It’s Chrissy, our beautiful girl. But what’s she doing here? Her eyes are wide with fear, and immediately, my brother and I jump to our feet.
“Well if it isn’t Fred-fucking-Walsh,” Angela sneers as she comes up to our table. “You fucker.”
“Wow. That’s some greeting,” my dad says, his voice as cold as ice. “How nice to see you, Angela.”
I’m about to threaten to wash the old witch’s mouth out with soap when she turns to us, sneering.
“Oh, and look! Freddie has his sons with him! Twin double-fuckers,” she curses.
What the hell? I’m not going to let this woman hurl insults at us for no reason, but then Chrissy steps forward.
“Please stop,” she begs the woman. “Just stop now. We’ll leave and everything will be fine.”
But Angela’s on a roll and nothing short of a club to the head is going to halt this train.
“You know, Fred, you left me with nothing. Nothing,” the woman hisses, gesticulating wildly. “You were a hotshot lawyer with millions in the bank, and you left me with zip after the divorce.”
“You ruined our marriage yourself, Angela,” Fred cuts in, his tone impassive. “You cheated on me with the pool boy, or don’t you remember?”
“Oh that?” Angela asks blandly. “That’s nothing. It was just a fling, and I don’t know why you’re still hung up over it.”
We all stare at her because that’s a bald-faced lie, and obviously, my father is astonished at how easy it is for her to twist the truth.
“Angela, you married Buddy Stanton after we divorced,” my dad says in a tight voice. “You cheated on me with the pool boy, and then married him.”
The deranged woman giggles.
“But I didn’t want to. Oh no. Like I said, it was just a minor indiscretion, and I had to divorce Buddy anyways because he had no ambition. He certainly couldn’t afford to keep a woman like me,” she scoffs. Then, the despicable woman continues. “Anyways, I’ve been living in poverty for years now, Fred, and it’s all your fault. I never had a chance after you threw me out. No one wanted to be my friend because let’s face it everyone in Sheridan kowtows to the powerful lawyer in town. No one even believed my side of the story! They wanted to keep kissing your ass,” she sniffs.
I’ve had enough. This is incredibly insulting to my elderly father, and I want her gone.
“Please leave,” I say in an even tone. “We’ve heard enough of your filthy lies, and you clearly aren’t in your right mind. Chrissy, would you like to stay for lunch? If you’re feeling better that is.”
But that’s when the blonde woman turns to our girlfriend, her expression filled with malice.
“Oh, and it gets better too! Because Fred, your sons like to double-dip, did you know that?”
I inhale deeply, but my brother beats me to it.
“Our personal lives are no business of yours, so I suggest you get out,” he grinds through his teeth while taking her elbow in a firm grasp. But Angela shakes him off with a wild gesture and then turns back to my father.
“No, Fred. Like I said, your twin sons like to double dip. Literally. And with their stepsister too! Surely, that information is worth something to you.”
There are tears running down Chrissy face now, and she lets out a soft whimper. But Angela’s on a roll as we try to process her words, and she thrusts a stack of photos before my father.
“Here you go, honey bun. Now, I know we haven’t seen our children naked since they were in diapers, but how did your sons learn to do that? How did they learn to treat a woman like that? Look at how Chrissy’s stretched, with her legs so far over her head. They were hurting her, don’t you think? Oh, and ignore the splotch of semen on her belly, even if it adds a certain authenticity to these pictures.”
My brother and I gape because suddenly, the import of Angela’s actions hit us. Is she showing our dad the naughty pictures we took with Chrissy? And even more, are we related to the curvy girl, even if only by marriage?
“Yes,” Angela confirms maliciously, her blue eyes gleaming as she reads our minds. “You’ve been fucking your stepsister, didn’t you know that, Ryder and Rick? You’ve been boinking cute little Chrissy McCall, as she was named back then. She’s Chrissy Stanton now because my ex gave her his last name, but did you have any idea you were doing the nasty with your sister?”
I jerk around to stare at our girlfriend.
“Is this true?” I demand. “Tell me it’s not true.”
But Chrissy can’t meet my eyes and merely sobs as she looks at the ground.
“Oh, I see you don’t know,” Angela hisses gleefully, clearly enjoying the effect of her insane outburst. Then, she turns her attention back to our dad. “What about you? Did you know Fred? Did you know that your boys have been fucking my daughter? What kind of stepbrothers would do such a thing?”
I blink several times, looking at our girlfriend for some sign that Angela is insane and lying, but just as quickly, details start to click into place. No wonder Chrissy appeared familiar at our high school reunion. It wasn’t just deja vu because actually, she’s our former stepsister. And no wonder Chrissy seemed to know our life stories, even before we told her. It’s because we all used to live in the same house and eat at the same dinner table.
Chrissy.
I stare at the gorgeous girl, hardly able to believe that the ripe, luscious brunette before us is the awkward, buck-toothed girl my brother and I used to ignore. Hell, we probably only spoke ten words to her the entire time we lived in the same house.
“Holy shit,” my twin growls, distress evident on his face.
But Angela continues to address our father, ignoring me and Ryder. “And do you want to even know what’s worse?” She leans in close, bracing herself on the arms of Fred’s wheelchair. “They’ve been screwing her at the same time two on one. How disgusting is that? Do you want to see more pictures, Fred? Here, let me help you,” she says, beginning to flip through the stack.
I can only imagine how horrifying those photos must be for our father because during that steamy session, we stretched Chrissy so hard that she couldn’t walk the next day. Her pussy and asshole were so sore that she literally stayed in bed and we brought her all her meals, in addition to providing warm baths and ice packs as needed.
“I think I deserve something for all this, don’t you think?” Angela hisses as my dad’s eyes grow wide, staring at the photos. “This is worth money, wouldn’t you say? Oh, here’s an especially good one. My daughter’s like a ballet dancer, I swear. So graceful, leaping through the air like that, and look: is that where she’s really going to land? On their dicks, with one in her pussy and the other in her ass?”
At that, my dad begins to wheeze heavily, and choke. Is it a piece of food? The bread from the complimentary bread basket? But then Fred begins to shake in his wheelchair, grabbing at his chest in desperate panic. His wide blue eyes lock with mine before he keels over, that white head slumping to the table.Content property of NôvelDra/ma.Org.
“Call an ambulance!” I shout. “My father’s having a heart attack!”
For the next several moments, everything erupts into pandemonium as we try to save my dad’s life. But even as the sound of sirens grow loud in the background, a thought keeps circling in my brain: why didn’t our stepsister tell us?
Ryder
I pace the gleaming white corridor, waiting on the doctor for an update about my dad. It’s been over an hour since we rushed Fred to the hospital, and while we know that he had a heart attack, it’s unclear how severe the damage might be.
Rick sits in a worn-out floral chair against a far wall, holding his head in his hands. Neither one of us is prone to waterworks, but tonight, everything has gone out the window. Seriously, I don’t know how things could go further off the rails, seeing that we just found out that we’ve been in an illicit affair with our stepsister for months now.