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  Contents

  Title Page

  Stepbrother: Together Forever

  Whispers From Tabatha

  Copyright

  STEPBROTHER:

  TOGETHER FOREVER

  A Short Romance

  by Tabatha Kiss

  WARNING: This short story contains explicit descriptions of

  erotic and sexual acts that some may find offensive.

  Reader discretion advised.

  This is a work of fiction intended for mature audiences only.

  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  All characters detailed within are eighteen years of age or older.

  No characters engaging in sexual acts are blood related.

  Text and Story Copyright © 2015 Tabatha Kiss

  Cover Art Copyright © Depositphotos.com/bartekwardziak

  All Rights Reserved.

  STEPBROTHER:

  TOGETHER FOREVER

  A Short Romance

  by Tabatha Kiss

  The snow fell through the frozen tree branches. Rocks and dirt cut into my bare feet. I wore nothing but a torn, silk night gown. His favorite gown.

  I hated it.

  I kept running. With no light to guide my way, I ran purely on instinct and luck. Whichever spoke louder.

  My face hurt. I felt the frozen stiffness of dried blood above my right eye and a little more under my nose. They clung to me as painful reminders of the life I was attempting to leave behind me.

  But I had nowhere to go. Instinct and luck were only taking my weak, frozen body so far. My chest burned as the cold snowy air met my warm insides. It felt as if my heart and lungs would explode at any moment. If I didn’t find shelter fast… Well, I didn’t want to think about that.

  So I kept running.

  I had never known how deep the woods behind our home went. But I always wondered. The thought lingered in the back of my mind and would surface itself whenever my stepfather raised his voice or came home drunk. I wish I could say this wasn’t often. Even knowing that fact, part of me wanted to turn back. To go back home and tell him I was sorry and beg him for forgiveness. I had been disobedient. It would not happen again.

  What happened to me? I wondered. My life wasn’t supposed to be like this.

  I must have run for miles, bare feet in the cruel snow. It didn’t take long for me to completely lose feeling in my toes. Then the rest of my feet. I wobbled on what felt like stumps, leaning into the trees and plant life I could barely see.

  The hill came suddenly. I lost all footing and toppled downward, making contact with the bushes and branches in my path.

  Snap. Crack. Crunch.

  I wasn’t sure if the noises were of flora or my own body.

  Once I hit the bottom, I was already unconscious.

  I dreamed I was floating. The wind carried my naked, frozen body away to someplace else. Somewhere warmer. I couldn’t tell where, but it had bright lights and smelt of warm chocolate.

  ***

  Pain was the first sensation I felt. It covered every inch of me and my eyes instantly stung with tears. I opened my eyes to an unfamiliar place. In an unfamiliar bed.

  Thick, dark curtains obscured the windows. I was covered with a fleece blanket, multiple feather pillows cradled me from head to toe.

  I fought the piercing pain and sat up to get a better look at my surroundings.

  A lamp sat on the bedside table, casting a deep blue glow on everything the light could touch. However, there wasn’t much for the light to touch. Whomever saved my life lived a simple one themselves.

  I wore unfamiliar clothing, consisting of a man’s blue button down dress shirt and my own panties. Nothing else except a pair a thick, wool socks. I looked around and deduced that my savior was male. The clothing I wore and that which was tossed atop a nearby chair was all the evidence I needed to that fact.

  Despite aching muscles, I decided to try and stand up. When I grabbed at my blanket, I winced and could not bend a few fingers. Closer inspection revealed my left middle finger and ring finger were tied together with medical tape. Whomever saved my life had done this before.

  I did a quick check of myself to see if anything else was broken. I bent my legs and arms, wiggled my toes, and shimmied my hips. Nothing but aches and bruises. I was lucky to only have a few broken fingers from that fall.

  I heard footsteps on the front porch and a wave of goosebumps covered my skin. For the first time since I awakened, I felt fear and said a prayer to myself.

  Please don’t be him.

  Please don’t be him.

  I should find a weapon.

  I swung my feet off the bed and touched the cold, wooden floor. All my joints popped as I moved them about. How long had I been asleep here?

  I was a stranger in my own body, but I had to move. I fought the pain and took strides toward the closet door. It creaked loudly as I swung it open wide. I ignored it, hoping it went unnoticed as I inspected the contents. But there was nothing but clothing.

  The front door opened and boots tapped the wooden entryway. The tapping continued, making way toward the bedroom door.

  Panic set in and I grabbed the first thing I could use to defend myself. I raised the pillow above my head in a fighting stance and waited, taking cover just behind the door.

  The doorknob turned and my body twitched.

  He wore a large brown coat and a black beanie hat. I couldn’t tell if it was him or not. But my fear took over and I swung the pillow at his head. My muscles screamed and quivered from weakness. I missed him and struck the door frame instead.

  His face turned towards mine. It wasn’t him.

  But I knew his face.

  The face of my long-lost stepbrother.

  “… Connor,” I gasped.

  He reached out and grabbed the pillow with one hand. With his other hand, he took my hand in his, making a conscious effort not to squeeze my throbbing, broken fingers. He did not try to yank the pillow away and instead spoke to me with a low, steady voice.

  “I will not harm you, Marnie,” he said.

  I believed him without question. His eyes looked upon me with worry and concern.

  When I didn’t continue fighting, he said, “You should be resting,”

  And it was all I wanted to do.

  My body was stiff and the sudden adrenaline rush took more out of me than I had. As we lowered the pillow together, he bridged the gap between us and wrapped his arms around me to give me support. I leaned into him, feeling all my strength leave my limbs. My knees collapsed beneath me, but Connor caught my average frame with ease. He lifted me up, throwing one arm beneath my knees and carried me back to the bed.

  “I found you…” I said, my voice small and weak. “I finally found you…”

  “Don’t talk,” he said. “Save your strength. You’re a tough one to keep warm,” he said, piling the blankets and pillows back around me. He turned to my feet and before touching me, he paused. “May I?”

  I nodded and he slipped the wool socks off my feet to inspect my toes. Each one was discolored from bruises and glowed a deep pink.

  “You almost lost a few of ‘em,” he said, as he inspected them. After a satisfied nod, he slid the socks back onto my feet.

  “How did you find me?” I asked.

  “I was out early. Hunting. I almost missed you, but… I saw your hair sticking out of the snow," he said. Once my feet were covered, they instantly felt warmer and my legs tingled with life. “I brought you back here and cleaned you up."

  “How long ago was this?”

  “Two days. You were in the snow a few hours, I suspect.”

  “Do you live alone?
” I asked.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Has he come looking for me?”

  “No.”

  I sighed to myself and wondered if that was good or bad.

  “Some of your wounds…” he said quietly as he sat down at the end of the bed. "Some of them are older.”

  I nodded without saying anything.

  He stood up and removed his hat to reveal a lush head of brown hair. Strands in front fell just below his eyes. The rest was tied back in a short ponytail. “You’ll be safe here, Marnie.”

  “Connor,” I said. “Have you contacted him?”

  “No,” he replied. “I haven’t talked to him in years. No reason to start now.”

  “You haven’t talked to me in years either,” I pointed out.

  He didn’t reply to that, his eyes looking toward the floor. “Get some rest,” he said.

  For the first time in as long as I could remember, I felt safe. I laid back in the bed and drifted off to sleep faster than I ever had before. I listened as Connor sat down in the chair next to the bed. I wanted him to stay with me until I fell asleep. He saved me the trouble of asking. Even after all this time, he still knew me so well.

  ***

  I awoke in the middle of the night in a panic attack. Something inside me felt him near. My chest felt like the size of a child’s and I could not catch my air. The room was pitch black. I remembered the lamp next to the bed and reached for it, but instead I knocked it down. It fell to the floor and shattered.

  The chair next to the bed, where Connor sat before, was empty. I tried to shout for help, but I couldn’t find the words. I choked on any air that entered my lungs. Tears stung my vision. But there was a light. It slithered into the room from the gap under the door.

  A few seconds later, the door swung open and Connor charged in. He wore black slacks with thick socks like mine, but his chest remained bare. I awoke him from sleep, but his eyes showed no concern for himself.

  “Marnie?” I heard him say. I could barely make him out through the veil of tears. So I reached out to him between attempted breaths.

  Connor took my hands and jumped into the bed next to me. He cradled me in his arms and whispered softly.

  “Breathe slow, Marnie,” he said.

  I clenched onto his arms with broken fingers, ignoring the pain vibrating up my arm.

  “You are safe here,” he said. “Breathe slowly.”

  And as if it were magic, my chest began to feel like its normal size again. Air entered my lungs and the panic inched out of me. In my daze, fueled by oxygen deprivation, I drifted back to sleep. Connor stayed with me that night and held me until the breaking dawn.

  ***

  When I awoke, he was gone. I took my time getting out of the bed, being mindful of my wounds. But for the most part, I felt good. The aches and bruises were still there, but I felt life in my limbs again. A pair of fleece slacks hung on the back of the chair. I threw them on before leaving, as I felt my knees get cold almost instantly.

  I opened the bedroom door and entered the main room. The couch was made up with a pillow and a blanket. Connor must have slept there while I took his bed the last few nights.

  “Good morning,” Connor said from the kitchen. He held two mugs of steaming liquid in his hands and offered one to me. “Hot chocolate?”

  “Sure,” I said as I accepted the warm mug. I didn’t drink it at first and instead held it between my palms, relishing in its warmth.

  I noted his clothing. He still wore his black slacks and socks. But now, instead of a bare chest, he wore a white tank that fit his chest tight.

  “How are you not freezing?” I asked, smelling the warm drink.

  “I prefer the cold,” he said as he sat down on the couch. He set a plate of cookies down on the table in front of us.

  “I’m sorry I took your bed,” I said.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said.

  “Well, thanks anyway,” I said as I took my first sweet sip. The chocolate was thick and filled my cheeks with warm life. “But I can tell you don’t want me around, so I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

  “I never said that, Marnie,” he said with a sigh.

  “I won’t be long,” I said quickly. “I do not wish to be a burden for you.”

  “You don’t have anywhere else to go,” he said as a matter of fact. “Right?”

  That question had plagued me ever since I ran into the the snowy night. I had nowhere to go and no one that could help me. He had made sure of that.

  My silence spoke for me.

  “You can stay for as long as you like,” he said. “Really.”

  I huffed a defeated sigh. “Thank you,” I said. Connor reached out to the plate of cookies and held it out to me. I smiled and slid one off the plate. Oatmeal raisin. Oddly enough, they were my favorite and I wondered if Connor had remembered that or if it were just coincidence. I took a nibble of the outer rim and traced my bites around it, leaving the center in tact. I took the opportunity to look around the room as we enjoyed our hot chocolate and cookies in silence.

  Connor lived a simple life, this much I remembered of him. His shelves held more books than movies or games. But his television was larger than mine was. When he enjoyed entertainment, he did so in style. Firewood was stacked evenly next to the fireplace in a neat pile. A rifle hung over the fireplace.

  I zoned out in a conscious state, staring off into space as my mind wandered. I kept biting and chewing at my cookie, devouring the outer edges first. After a few moments, I looked up at Connor and noticed him staring at me, looking very amused.

  “You still do that?” he asked.

  I looked at the cookie and back at him. “Oh,” I laughed. "The center is the best part.”

  It wasn’t long until the smooth beverage made my body relax again. I set the unfinished cookie down on the saucer as I started to feel light-headed and could not keep my eyes open.

  “Go back to sleep,” Connor said.

  “I’m not even sure I’ll be able to sleep anymore,” I said.

  “Your body has been through a lot,” he said. "And you should give yourself a break. To relax.”

  I let out a deep sigh, coming from the depths of my core. “I cannot argue with that last part.”

  Connor escorted me to the bedroom and tucked me back into the fort of blankets and pillows. I thanked him and was pleasantly surprised by how right he was. My body was still so weak and I had no trouble drifting back to sleep.

  ***

  A hard pounding brought me out of my slumber. A knocking from the other room.

  The door.

  Someone was at the door.

  My whole body tensed up and my breaths came quick.

  I could feel it. Even before I stood up from the bed and walked, quiet as a mouse, to the window to peak outside.

  It was him.

  My stepfather, Rupert. He banged on the door once more. I covered my mouth to limit the sounds of my heaving breath as I entered the familiar state of panic.

  I heard Connor open the door and he greeted Rupert with kindness.

  “Dad, hey,” Connor said.

  “Have you seen her?” Rupert asked with his trademark growl.

  I looked between the deep black curtains. Rupert looked angry. Furious, even. The lines on his face so much more pronounced on his cold and red cheeks.

  “Who?” Connor asked.

  “Who do you think? That brat bitch of a sister of yours. Have you seen her?” he repeated.

  “Stepsister,” Connor corrected. “And no, dad. I can’t say I have seen her. Not since I left home.” Connor said.

  “Are you sure? I’ve been searching these woods for days and you’re the only house for miles.”

  “I haven’t seen her. She doesn’t even know I’m out here,” Connor said.

  Rupert took a step forward between the door frame and looked around Connor at the room. His eyes scanned everything before taking a few steps back again. “She hasn’t
come by here?" he asked.

  “No,” Connor said. “But I’ll be sure to let you know if I see her.”

  My breaths came fast and I feared I could easily be heard. But to my relief, Rupert dismissed himself from the porch with a frown. “You better,” he spat as he turned back to his truck.

  I stared out the window and watched until he was out of sight. Connor must have done the same, as he did not come to check on me until then.

  He saw my breathing and instantly held me, his arms wrapping around me from behind in a kind embrace.

  “Why did you leave me with him?” I asked behind a veil of tears. “You knew what he was capable of and you still left…” He held me tighter and didn’t answer.

  Connor walked with me into the main room and I sat down on the soft sofa. I laid back and stared at the ceiling while I listened to Connor wander around the cabin. After a few minutes, he came back.

  “Here,” he said.

  I raised my head up and felt him place an object in my lap. I picked it up. It was the silk nightgown I ran away in, folded and clean.

  “Some of the stains were hard to get out,” Connor said. "But I think I got it back to normal.”

  I let the silk slide through my fingers. “Connor,” I said. "Thank you for your trouble.” I stood up from the couch and walked over to the rumbling fireplace. Without a second thought, I tossed the thing into the fire and watched as the flames devoured it.

  ***

  That night, I could not find sleep. My heart pounded too heavily and I could find no comfort lying alone in the bed.

  About a quarter past one in the morning, I entered the main room to look for Connor. He was lying on the couch, a book in his hands. The dim light of a nearby lamp illuminated the pages for him.

  He sat up as I entered and dog-eared his page down. “Everything all right?” he asked.

  “I don’t want to be alone,” I said slowly, hesitating my words. “Would you lie with me? Like you used to…”

  There was a brief look of confusion across his face, followed shortly by one of understanding. “Yes,” he said with a nod. He stood up from the couch and followed me into the bedroom.