Redemption: A British Stepbrother Romance (11 page)

W
e approached
the house like we were two kids sneaking home after a late night out. All the lights were off and Maisie had texted Michelle to say that my driver was taking her back to the hotel. The house was big enough that we didn’t need to worry too much about the noise once we were in my bedroom, but getting there involved walking past Shaun’s room, so we had to tiptoe around a bit first.

“We should make it look like I’m sleeping in a guest room,” Michelle said. “Let’s go mess up the covers.”

“Yeah, about that. I don’t really have any guest rooms. I did, but they all got converted into games rooms, or fitness centres.”

“Okay, well go grab a spare pillow and a cover, while I leave some clothes dotted around the sofa.”

Every second that passed was another opportunity for Michelle to change her mind, but that didn’t seem likely. Not tonight. Michelle looked almost as determined as I was. This was going to happen. Michelle and I were actually going to go to bed together. It still didn’t feel real.

I snuck into one of the spare rooms and grabbed a pillow and the large duvet. This was a lot of effort to go to just to keep Shaun from getting suspicious about my relationship with Michelle. He almost certainly wouldn’t care, although he might tell Maisie, and she would care. She looked up to me like I was her real brother, and it wouldn’t go down well if she knew how I felt about Michelle. We’d have to deal with that situation later.

A faint flickering light emanated from Shaun’s room, which probably meant he’d left the television on. I snuck past and heard the distinct tapping noise of his PlayStation controller that meant he was up playing video games. I’d been hoping he was asleep by now, but he usually played games with headphones on, so that would block out any noise he might hear from my room.

I didn’t bring many women back to the house, and when I did I went to a lot of effort to be as discreet as possible. Shaun was at an age where he would look for male role models, and I didn’t want him to look up to me as someone who fooled around with women a lot. We spent plenty of time together, so with any luck he would focus on the more positive aspects of my character. Besides, he never really saw me as a father anyway. He’d usually say I was more like an older brother, which suited me just fine.

Michelle was in the living room examining the photos I had up above the fireplace. She’d left her shoes near the sofa, and had thrown her jacket over the chair. It at least looked like she’d been in this room, although it was always tough to give a sofa that “slept on” look, short of actually sleeping on it.

I stopped outside the door and decided to give her a few more moments with the photos. She’d never asked that many questions about Shaun and how he came to be living with me, but I knew she must be curious. Those photos told a good story.

Shaun had a few pictures of his dad on display. One from when Shaun had been a baby, with his dad holding him like any proud father would. The original photo had been taken just before Shaun’s mother abandoned them, but he’d cut her out of it.

The other photo was of Gary smiling and holding his Championship winning medal. He’d looked so happy back then. By the time I got to know Gary, things were not so positive. The problems with the gambling ring had taken their toll by that point.

If I had any say in the matter, then Shaun would never find out the truth about what his father got involved in. It didn’t change the man that Gary was, not really. He did what he did to protect his family. I only wish I had done the same.

Michelle moved on to a picture of Shaun and me that had been taken about a year after Gary’s death. We’d been at a cricket match of all places, because Shaun had friends who were into the sport and he wanted to give it a go. He stood out like a sore thumb as one of the few black people in the audience. Thankfully, he was bored to tears and stuck to rugby.

I resisted the urge to walk in and disturb Michelle. This was the most skin I’d seen her show since she’d been in England. On her top half at least. She didn’t seem to mind showing off her legs, but she always insisted on wearing cardigans or jackets even when it was far too hot outside.

Michelle looked stunning. Her long hair draped halfway down her back and her breasts looked fuller than I’d appreciated before, now that I could properly see them against the outline of her torso. Michelle had the body most women would kill for. Why would she always try to keep it covered up?

She moved over to the other side of the room, not spotting me standing in the doorway, and started checking out the random assortment of DVDs I kept on the shelves. She stood with her right side facing me, and now I finally realized why she had kept her body hidden all this time.

On the outside of her upper right arm, Michelle had a large burn mark that looked almost identical to the one Maisie had on her face. The flesh had a red tinge and was bumpy and uneven. Maisie’s skin had healed substantially from the night of the attack, so even though her skin was still misshapen, most of the redness had disappeared. Michelle’s looked like it had hardly healed, and I knew why.

I thought back to the time I visited Maisie in hospital after the attack. Back then, she’d just been a terrified kid who couldn’t understand what had happened to her. Michelle had never left her side, but she hadn’t been a patient at the hospital herself. Michelle must have been hit by the acid as well, but she’d never told anyone. She blamed herself for what happened and the burn on her arm was her way of punishing herself.

I heard a loud, drawn out yawn behind me, so I spun on the spot, still holding pillows and a duvet in my arms, coming face-to-face with Maisie.

“So that’s where the spare bed stuff is,” she said, taking the duvet and pillows from my arms.

“Uh, actually they’re for—”

Maisie walked into the living room and jumped when she saw Michelle. Michelle must have heard Maisie outside because she had leapt over to the chair and was desperately putting her jacket back on.

“No point in covering up your scar,” Maisie said casually. “He’s seen it.”

Michelle looked over at me accusingly. “I didn’t want to interrupt,” I said. “Sorry.”

Michelle put the jacket on anyway. “You said you had gone back to the hotel,” she said to Maisie.

“I said I was on my way back, but then we decided to play a few more games. I didn’t want to call the driver this late, so I decided to crash on the sofa.”

“They were just playing games,” I said. “I heard them.”

“As you will note, I came down here to sleep on the sofa, so we don’t have to have ‘the talk’ about boys again.”

“I think it’s best we go back to the hotel,” Michelle said. “We can’t both sleep on the sofa.”

“You know,” Maisie said, “for such a big home, you really don’t have many beds.”

“I prefer to use the rooms for fun stuff,” I said. “Games, mini movie theatres, fitness equipment. General entertainment.”

“Bedrooms can be plenty entertaining,” Maisie joked.

“You see what I have to deal with?” Michelle asked, half-joking, half serious.

“I don’t envy you,” I agreed. “She’s a handful.”

“She’s also right here,” Maisie said.

Shaun walked into the living room having found another set of bedding, but looking somewhat confused to find all of us in the living room.

“It’s okay, Shaun,” Michelle said. “We’re just going to call a cab and head back to the hotel. We’ll see you tomorrow at training.”

I gave the girls some cash for the taxi and watched my dreams of a perfect evening walk out the door into a car.

Perhaps it was for the best nothing happened tonight. Michelle must have known I’d see her scars at some point, but they were obviously a big issue for her. Something would happen between us eventually, and it might be best we do it without the influence of alcohol. I needed Michelle to feel comfortable with me. Comfortable enough to undress and let me touch her everywhere.

The right time would come at some point. I’d never been a patient man, but I would be for her. I’d waited eight years for Michelle; I would wait another eight if I had to.

H
e saw it
. Oliver had been standing in the doorway staring at my arm, and no doubt horrified at my deformity. I knew I’d have to show him eventually, but I planned to do it with the lights off.

That was how I always had sex when I was with a new man. I’d insist on the lights being off, and if they felt the bumpy skin on my arm I would distract them with an impromptu blow job. It usually worked a charm. By the time they would see the scar, they’d been expecting it anyway and would usually keep quiet about it.

But Oliver got a good long look at it without any kind of a warning whatsoever. No doubt he would now find himself conveniently busy all the time, and I could expect to see a lot less of him over the last couple of months we were here.

Maisie kept quiet in the car for the entire ride home. She probably thought she was in trouble, but I couldn’t find much she’d done wrong. The plan had been for her to leave much earlier and have one of Oliver’s drivers take her back to the hotel, but staying up late was hardly that big a crime. Kids her age did a lot worse.

Maisie acted so grown-up, I often forgot she was only fourteen. She couldn’t have been more different than me when I was her age. I didn’t have her confidence until I was… hell, I still didn’t have her confidence. I couldn’t even show the burn on my arm, whereas Maisie had to walk around with a burn on her face. That said all you needed to know about the difference between us.

Maisie wanted to go straight to her hotel room, but I insisted she come and hang out in mine for a bit.

“Am I in trouble?” she asked, as I threw my shoes off and collapsed down on the bed.

I motioned for Maisie to come and sit down next to me, which she did reluctantly. Now she looked every bit the sulky teenager. Strangely, I kind of preferred her that way.

“You and Shaun seem to be getting on well,” I said.

“He’s cool. But we’re only friends. And we’re not having sex,” she added pointedly.

“I know. I trust you, Maisie. We’ve talked about this before, and I remember explaining that you should wait until you’re ready.”

“And I agreed,” Maisie said.

“And you also said that you wouldn’t be ready until you were twenty-one.”

“I don’t remember saying—”

“I
distinctly
remember you saying that,” I added with a smile.

Maisie laughed. “Yeah, okay, let’s go with that. Twenty-one.”

I put my arm around her and gave her a hug. Maisie put her hand on my right arm and ran her fingers over the burn. She was the only person allowed to touch me there, but it still felt weird.

“Talking of conversations we’ve had before,” Maisie said, “you don’t need to keep this covered up. It’s not something you should be ashamed of. And anyone who thinks less of you is not worth knowing. Christ, how many times have you told me that?”

“I don’t keep it covered up because I’m embarrassed about how I look. I’m embarrassed that this is all I got when you have it so much worse.”

Now it was Maisie’s turn to hug me. It should have felt weird receiving a comforting hug from my little sister, but given that she was bigger than me it didn’t feel all that strange.

“Oliver’s going to feel even more guilty now,” Maisie said. “He’s always blamed himself for what happened to me, but now he has to blame himself for your injury as well.”

“Did he ever explain that to you?” I asked. “The reason he feels guilty?”

Maisie shook her head. “Not really. I think it’s just a man thing. You know, he wasn’t able to protect his ladies, or something like that.”

I laughed. “We’re his ladies now are we?”

“I can think of worse men to be looking out for us, can’t you? He’d walk over hot coals for us and Shaun.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “You’re right there.”

“Did you have fun tonight?” Maisie asked.

“I did,” I said truthfully. “I really did. It’s a shame it had to end.”

“Don’t wait so long before doing it again. You need to go out more often.”

“Is this just your way of saying you’d like more time alone with Shaun?”

Maisie smiled and shrugged. “Wouldn’t complain. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to hang a sock on his door if we’re doing anything.”

“You need to stop watching all those college movies. Okay, I need some sleep.”

Maisie went back to her room and I got ready for bed. There were no messages from Oliver, but despite my inclination to panic and think the worst of people, I decided not to worry about it. Maisie was right. Oliver was one of the good guys. He wouldn’t be put off by my arm. We’d have other dates at some point. I just hoped that for both our sakes we didn’t leave it too late.

I
’d never put so
much thought into a date before. I didn’t want to wait before seeing Michelle again, but I knew that just going out for a meal would not work. We’d done that. We’d gone out drinking, we’d flirted, we’d talked, but still nothing had happened. Michelle was scared. Scared of what I would think about her arm. It was my job to put her at ease.

“Go and buy a bikini,” I told Michelle when she showed up with Maisie at training.

“Excuse me?”

“Go and buy a bikini,” I repeated, as if it were a completely normal request to make at ten in the morning. “I’m only working until lunchtime and I have the afternoon off. Maisie doesn’t need you to watch every training session.”

“Why a bikini?”

“Because this afternoon you and I are going to spend a few hours up in the swimming pool on the roof of your hotel.”

“There’s a swimming pool on the roof?”

“Yep.”

“We can go hang out up there, but I really don’t want—”

“Me to see you in a bikini because of your arm,” I said, finishing the sentence for her. “Too late, I’ve seen it. Now, I’ve just emailed you the address of a small boutique place that I like. I know the owner, so drop my name and he’ll look after you.” I shoved about £200 into her hand. “That should cover it, but if not, just tell him I’ll pay the rest later.”

“£200,” Michelle exclaimed, after counting it. “I’ve never spent more than $40 on a swimming costume. What sort of bikini do you want me to buy for that much?”

“Preferably a small one.”

Michelle stared at the money looking uncertain, but at least she hadn’t rejected the idea out of hand.

“What will we tell Maisie?” she asked.

“I hate to break it to you, but Maisie barely notices us anyway. As long as you’re here to pick her up she won’t mind.”

“Okay,” she said finally. “Okay. I’ll go there now. What time do I meet you up by the pool?”

“One o’clock.”

When Michelle walked away I breathed a sigh of relief. I knew I had to act confident and sure of myself, but I’d been expecting Michelle to make no end of excuses. It was happening. Today was the day. This had to work. If I couldn’t break down Michelle’s barriers today, then I didn’t think I ever would.

I
slipped
a few quid to the appropriate hotel staff to make sure Michelle and I would not be disturbed in the pool. They arranged to close the pool and only let Michelle through. I resisted the urge to get flowers or do anything overly romantic. Wild gestures were easy, and besides that they stood a good chance of scaring Michelle off completely.

I relaxed in the pool at the deep end and kept an eye on the entrance for Michelle to arrive. The rooftop pool was contained within a glass conservatory which was just as well because there weren’t many days in London that were nice enough to use an outdoor pool.

The water was unnaturally warm. Personally, I preferred to jump into a cold pool. It woke me up and reinvigorated me instantly, but that might just be me. My club made me take ice baths after games sometimes, so a cold pool didn’t bother me much.

This one was nearly warm, but if I was going to be in a pool with a beautiful woman, warm was better than cold. Michelle should be in no doubt about my size, but I didn’t want cold water making my little fella, well, little.

I leaned over to grab my phone from the side of the pool and checked the time. Michelle was running fifteen minutes late. That wasn’t like her. She would be nervous about coming up here, but when she left this morning she looked determined to make it work.

There was a timer on the wall for marking lap times, so I waited until the hand hit the top and then ducked my head under water. My physio always remarked on my lung capacity, which was the second highest at the club. The lung capacity made me fitter than most other players which was a large factor in my ability to score late drop goals.

Near the end of games, when the opposition was starting to tire, there were usually opportunities to sneak in a drop goal, but most kickers were just as tired as everyone else. Not me. I felt as fresh at the beginning of games as I did at the end. I never missed the late kicks.

Except that one time. But that was different. It just so happened to be the biggest kick I’ve ever taken in my life, and I missed it.

The water blurred my vision, but I managed to see the red hand creep back around past the top of the timer. That meant I’d been under for one minute. Two minutes was attainable, but it depended on all sorts of factors, like how much sleep I’d had and what I’d eaten for breakfast.

My body began to float towards the surface in an instinctive battle to reach oxygen. I moved my arms in an effort to send my body back down, but that exuded energy and burned up what little oxygen I had left.

I took another look at the timer. Damn, thirty more seconds to go. I pushed myself down to the bottom again, eating up a few more seconds. I closed my eyes to avoid the temptation to look at the timer, and pictured Michelle the way she looked last night in my living room. She’d been stunning, burn mark or not. Her chest practically pulsed with each breath she took. Shit. Don’t think about breathing right now. Her stomach. Her flat, smooth stomach had moved almost imperceptibly with each… Shit.

I opened my eyes and looked up at the timer as it moved past the two-minute mark. My legs went down and made contact with the bottom of the pool, before pushing my body up through the surface where I took a huge gasp of air the second my mouth was out of the water.

My lungs filled with air and then emptied, before filling with air again. I wiped the water from my eyes and regained my focus as the blood rushed back to my brain. No sooner had the blood reached my brain then it went somewhere else.

Standing next to the pool in a yellow bikini was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She stood with her right arm angled slightly away from me; the result of a self-conscious habit, developed over years of being paranoid about her appearance.

“I thought you were playing hide-and-seek there for a minute,” Michelle said, looking down on me with a smile I could stare at for days. “Is the water cold?”

“Not at all,” I said. “Jump in.”

Michelle braced herself, clearly still expecting the water to be cold, and then jumped in. She screamed in imagined shock as she hit the water, but quickly relaxed.

“Okay, it’s not that bad,” she said. “What do you think of the swimsuit?”

“Put your hands between my legs and you’ll find out,” I joked.

Michelle splashed me with the water in a way that was cute, despite being somewhat pointless. Was there anything this woman could do that I wouldn’t find adorable?

“Why are we here anyway?” Michelle asked. “This wasn’t what I had in mind for our next meeting.”

“Would you rather have gone for dinner?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“Me neither. And to be honest, I wanted to look at your body. I got a glimpse the other night and now I want to see more.”

“You saw my arm.”

“Yes, I did.”

“And I suppose you have questions?”

“Not really,” I said. “I know exactly what happened and why you covered it up?”

“You’re such a know-it-all sometimes,” she teased. “Go on then, tell me what you think happened.”

“Well, I already know about that night. The only new information I now have is that you were hit by the acid as well. You kept it a secret because it just reminded you that you got off lightly compared to Maisie. You think you failed to protect her.”

“It’s pretty clear I
did
fail to protect her.”

“You protected her from some of it,” I said. “I’ve read the police report of that night.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be private?”

“Yeah, but Hodgson let me look at it. There’s not a lot in it; neither you nor Maisie knew much information about the attack so there was little to tell the police. Anyway, it says you were walking with Maisie on your left. The attackers came out from the left hand side and threw the acid. You have a burn mark on your right arm. The only way you would have got that is if you turned to your left and grabbed Maisie. You tried to put your body in the way, didn’t you? You had a split second to react and in that time you threw yourself between the acid and your little sister.”

Michelle was silent for a few seconds and I realized I might have gotten a little carried away. I’d recounted the facts like an excited detective who’d figured out a murder mystery. This was a real-life attack that still resonated with Michelle and Maisie, yet I’d been an insensitive arsehole about it as usual.

“So what if I did?” Michelle said at last. “It didn’t work, did it? I got away with a burn that most people never see, while Maisie’s face is disfigured.”

“Things might have been worse if you hadn’t stepped in. Anyway, that doesn’t matter. The point is that you are an incredible person, and I won’t rest until you accept that about yourself.”

“Is that why you asked me here today? To talk about what happened eight years ago?”

“No, I brought you here so that we would be on an even footing.”

“Even footing? I don’t understand.”

“Look at my body,” I said. “Without going underwater. Just look down at my chest.”

“If I have to,” she said with a smile. “I can’t exactly make much out. You’re just a blurry chest and a pair of legs under there.”

“So are you,” I said. “You’re practically naked in front of me, but your arm looks the same as the rest of you from here. I thought it might help you relax around me.”

“Oh,” she said, looking down at her arm. “I suppose it did. I haven’t given much thought to it since I’ve been in the pool.”

“Good. Now, we could stay here and chill out, but you do have an empty hotel room and Maisie won’t need picking up for a few hours yet, so…”

“Mr. Cornish,” she said slowly, with a knowing grin, “are you proposing what I think you’re proposing? I’ll have you know, I’m not that easy.”

“Trust me, nothing about this has been easy.”

“Tell you what, if you can beat me in a race then you can do with me as you please.”

“A race?”

“Four lengths of the pool. Come on.”

Michelle quickly got ready by the edge of the pool and I immediately knew she was an experienced swimmer. I was a strong swimmer but not a fast one. I had far too much bulk to move gracefully through the water.

Michelle gave a countdown and pushed off the edge, going into a lead before I had even done one stroke. She slipped through the water like an otter and extended the gap between us with every second that passed. Screw this.

I stopped swimming and waited for Michelle to come back in my direction. She had a good technique and took a breath on every third stroke, but it meant she wasn’t particularly looking where she was going. Her arm smashed into my chest and she gasped as she crashed into me.

“What the hell?” she muttered, wiping the water from her eyes. “You’re not much of a swimmer, you know?”

“No more games,” I said, as I pulled her face towards mine and kissed her.