Tucker Chapter, PT. 4

She hadn’t gone all the way, but that wouldn’t matter to her dad. Would he believe she’d been a willing participant? Would he lock her in her room for the rest of her life?

The thrill of breaking the rules and treading into forbidden territory had long since faded. Now all she felt was cold terror of the consequences.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

Jesse’s words, dripping with disgust, made her hang her head in shame.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him shake his head and run his hands feverishly through his hair.

“If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, no one could have convinced me that you would let him touch you like that.”

A lick of anger stole through her. “Why not? He’s my boyfriend! I’m seventeen. Other girls...”

He pivoted to face her.

“You aren’t like the other girls,” he snapped. “You’re better than that.”

She swallowed hard and averted her gaze.

“Or, I thought you were.”

The verbal blow stole her breath. Jesse had never been intentionally hurtful, but that… That felt like he stabbed her and momentarily distracted her from their parents' impending arrival. Before she could think of how to respond, he whirled and sank his fist into the wall.

She clapped her hand over her mouth as he retracted a hand that was now covered in not just Tucker’s blood but his own. She thought that would be the end of it, but when he pulled back his fist again, clearly about to pummel the wall to bits, she darted forward. She hauled back on his arm, stopping the full force of his punch so he merely cracked the wall instead of creating another gaping hole.

“Please stop,” she begged.

He shrugged her off as if he couldn’t stand her touch, as if she was contaminated. He skirted around her, looking anywhere but directly at her. Once again, he ran his fingers through his hair, not registering the dust, plaster, and blood that covered his hand.

“You’re hurt,” she said quietly.

He didn’t seem to hear her. He began to pace again, head bent, hands flexing at his sides.

“Let me clean your hand,” she pleaded.

No response. No reaction to her voice. Cautiously, she started toward him. She had to calm him down. She had no idea how, but they wouldn’t get anywhere if he didn’t snap out of this agitated state. This wasn’t the Jesse she knew. For eight months, she’d known there was more to him than what he presented to the world, but somehow, this side of him was more shocking than the late night visits. Anger wasn’t a part of his makeup. Neither was violence. Seeing both made her feel like she was talking to a stranger. She was freaked out and wished to God she’d stopped Tucker or walked away. Why did she have an awful feeling that everything had changed, and they could never go back to the way it had been?

“What can I do?” she whispered, willing to do anything to make this right.

“You should leave,” he said in a flat monotone as he stared at the floor.

“Jesse.”

“I thought I knew you better than I knew myself. I never thought you would let anyone…”

His leg flashed out, sneakers colliding with an old dresser that shuddered, but otherwise didn’t move. Encouraged by this, Jesse kicked it again and then kneed it in a move that she knew would hurt tomorrow. Desperate to make him stop, she moved in close, knowing even in the depths of his rage that he would never hurt her. Just like she expected, he immediately backed away from the dresser, which was apparently indestructible.

His eyes met hers for a moment. The turbulence there made her reach for him. He stepped back and tried to turn away, but she moved into him and clasped his face.

“Stop hurting yourself,” she pleaded.

Her voice shook. He tried to jerk away, but she wouldn’t let him, tightening her hold and matching the steps he took to put distance between them.

“Look at me,” she ordered.

He looked over her head at the wall, jaw set. Her eyes filled with tears. She stroked his cheek.

“Please.”

He tugged her hands from his face. Knowing he was about to push her away, she moved in and plastered her body against his. He went rigid.

“I’m sorry that I put you in that position. I’m sorry you had to see… I wasn’t thinking.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “Please stop hurting yourself.”

“Step back,” he said coldly.

The compulsion to obey was strong, but she stayed put. The moment she backed away, he would continue taking his anger out on the room, which would make it impossible to keep anything from their parents. She needed him calm, rational. She didn’t know what to do with the Jesse before her who was trembling with the need to dole out more destruction. All she knew was he wouldn’t hurt her, and although he wanted space, her presence was the only thing stopping him from going nuclear.

“Please don’t tell Dad,” she said.

He glared at the wall and didn’t respond.

“I swear, I won’t do it again.”

Again, nothing.

“Jesse.” She went on tiptoes to force him to look at her, and when that didn’t work, she yanked his head down. Stubbornly, his gaze remained averted. Anxious, frustrated, and exasperated, she did the only thing she could think of and brushed her mouth against his. Stormy blue eyes immediately snapped to hers. She jerked back, hands dropping away, stunned by her own impulsivity. What the hell was she doing? First Tucker and now she was kissing her stepbrother. What was happening to her? She backed away, twisting her hands together, cheeks hot.

“Is that how you do things nowadays? Get your way with kisses?”

Her mouth dropped before she glared at him. “No!”

“Then what was that?”

She flung her hands in the air. “I just wanted you to calm down!”

“So you kissed me.”

Her stomach writhed. “I-I don’t know why I did that.” When he continued to stare at her, she snapped, “We’ve kissed on the lips before.”

“By accident.”

“Yes, well, so was this.”

**This is a raw draft of the prequel for Corrupt Idol. Please do not share or distribute.

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