Mated To My Obsessive Stepbrother

Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"Kasmine, why don't you talk to your brother? Tell him how much I like him," Claire was at it again.

It was lunchtime, and we sat in the cafeteria together, including Jake. I hoped Kester wouldn't get angry over this because I wasn't alone with Jake. In fact, he should feel much better that it was all three of us, which would further prove to him that there was nothing going on between me and Jake.

"I've told you before," I said, stabbing my fork into my food with unnecessary force. "My brother and I are sworn enemies at the moment. I can't help you, Claire. Sorry."

Claire gave a theatrical sigh.

"You haven't been eating, Mine. Is everything okay?" Jake asked.

I froze, the concern in his voice startling me. Was it that obvious? My hand

hovered over my plate as I fumbled for a response.

"I'm fine," I lied smoothly-or tried to. "I just..." My breath hitched, betraying me, so

I added, “I miss my mum. I wish I could see her soon."

Another lie. It tasted like ash on my tongue, bitter and unspeakable.

How could I tell them the truth? How could I let them know that my brother, the man who everyone else seemed to see as perfect, had become the source of my nightmares?

That he'd been acting in ways that hinted at... No. I needed to stop having such ridiculous thoughts. Kester was my brother. My brother. He couldn't possibly harbor those kinds of feelings for me.

But I wouldn't blame myself for thinking it. Not when he grabbed me the way he did, touched me, stared at me-spoke to me-in ways that made my skin crawl and my mind spiral.

But maybe that's just how Kester was. Intense. Controlling. Overwhelming.

"You've drifted off again," Jake said softly, breaking through my haze and pulling my attention back to him.

"Why did you accept the internship at my brother's company?" I asked, going straight to the point.

I hadn't had the opportunity to ask him yet. I needed answers.

"Mine..." Jake leaned forward, reaching for my hand, but I pulled back quickly, fear thrumming through my veins. What if Kester saw us? What if someone told him?

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Chapter 13

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Jake admitted, "But I didn't have a choice. My original internship let

you couldn't even tell me?" My anger

can't even get you on the phone?" he fired back. "We hardly ever talk,

wasn't wrong, but that didn't stop the sting. "We spoke the day before you arrived. You could've

Remember?" His voice rose, matching mine now. "That was the first time we'd spoken in two weeks, and we couldn't even finish the conversation. What was I

at me? I was about to reply to him in the same measure, but before I could, Claire

clasped her hands together in an exaggerated plea, setting her face

going to be engaged soon, and you know it. You're setting yourself up for heartbreak."

a dreamy smile. "Once I get my chance, he'll see reason. He'll

you even see in this douchebag?" Jake finally spoke up, his voice

as if personally offended. "Are you blind, Jake? His ripped abs, those tanned muscles, that sharp jawline-" She trailed off, her eyes glinting with a faraway look. "Have you seen his eyes? Selene above, they're the most gorgeous things I've ever seen.

could do to a woman when he's alone with her, in the right setting..." She giggled, oblivious to the heat that rushed to my face at her words.

ones he'd been using to terrorize me. The ones that had grabbed my neck more times than the breaths I've taken just trying to forget

I know he'd be perfect in bed," Claire added with a wicked grin, the final

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I scolded, "He is my brother! You shouldn't be saying

a joke.

muttered bitterly. "That'll probably work better for you

***

I hated

when Saturdays no longer felt like a breath of fresh air. Saturdays used to be my favorite day of the week-the day for movies, spontaneous visits to Claire's, shopping, and laughter. It was my escape from the school stress. It was freedom until

when I was still at the pack house, and we'd spend time together. That's how we

his house while his usual, controlling self has refused to let me go

This wasn't the plan.

with an angry sigh, the sudden need for food gnawing at me, pulling me out of the safe, silent bubble of my room. I had promised myself I wouldn't let him see me, wouldn't give him the satisfaction of

stay alive to make

the kitchen, trying to fix something quick to eat. I would have made Cacio e p**e, my favorite

He'd have crawled out from wherever he was

for something simple, something quick. Scrambled eggs. Toast. Easy. Efficient. No chance for him to catch

it was done. Quicker

to pour myself a glass of water, the hair on the back of

glass in my hand hovering above the counter. Slowly, as if drawn by some unseen force, I turned toward the

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