Cruel Desires: My Bully Turned Stepbrother

Knowledge Is Power

Gabriel's POV

He didn’t care. The look on his face that dead eyed, hungry look it wasn't about love or even lust. It was about owning me and humiliating me anytime.

His hands were everywhere, cold and firm, and when he grabbed my belt, the click of the metal sounded like a gunshot in his room.

"Derek, stop," I gasped. My voice was trash, shaky, pathetic. I was pushing against his shoulders, but it was like trying to shove a wall over. "This is a sin. We are stepbrothers. Stop."

He didn’t even blink. He just dragged my pants down, his fingers rough against my skin, my boxers following suit.

My head was spinning. My ribs were throbbing, his weight was crushing me against the door, and the worst part, the part that made me want to scream was that my body didn't give a damn about this sin.

I was hard, I was f*****g hard. My body was betraying me, betraying us, because of some sick, f****d up chemical reaction I couldn't control.

"Sin?" He laughed. It was low, right against my ear, vibrating through me. "I don’t care about sins, Gabe. I only care about what I want, and I want you now."

He pushed my legs apart, his hand grabbing me, arching my back until I was straining against the wood of the door. The panic was choking me. I was terrified, I was angry, I was.....

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound ripped through the air. I jolted, my eyes flying open. It wasn't just a knock, it was like a ticking time bomb.

Derek froze for a split second, his grip tightening, and in that split second of hesitation, my brain just... snapped. It wasn't a choice. It was pure, unfiltered adrenaline. I swung. My fist collided with his face, hard. A solid punch that rattled my own arm.

"Ouch, f**k!" Derek barked, reeling back, his hand flying to his lip.

"Derek? Are you in there? It’s time for family pictures. The photographer is waiting!"

Aunt Jessica. My heart was doing jumping jacks in my chest. I scrambled, pulling my boxers up, my fingers fumbling so hard I almost ripped the elastic. I was breathing like I had just run a marathon.

I looked at Derek. He was slumped against the wall, clutching his mouth. There was a thin line of blood bright, ugly red seeping out from his bottom lip.

Panic hit me again, different this time. I was scared and felt really guilty. What had I done?

"I.....I am so sorry," I whispered, rushing forward before I could even think. "Derek, I am... s**t, I didn't mean to..."

I reached out, my hand hovering, and then I touched his lip with my thumb. He didn't pull away. He just stared at me. His eyes weren't dark and predatory anymore, they were blown wide, looking at me like I was something he couldn't quite figure out.

What's strange was that he wasn't even fighting back. He was just... quiet.

"Auntie!" Derek yelled, his voice rough. "I will be down in a minute, okay?"

"Hurry up, dear!"

Her footsteps faded. The silence that rushed back into the room was heavy, thick with the smell of blood and sweat. I grabbed a tube of ointment from the dresser, my hands still shaking so hard I dropped it once, then scrambled to pick it up.

I sat on the edge of the bed, and he sat right in front of me, between my knees. It was intimate in the worst possible way. I squeezed a bit of the cream onto my finger and pressed it against his cut.

He flinched, but he didn't move away. He just watched me. His eyes were fixed on my face, tracking every twitch of my eye, every shaky breath. It felt like he was memorizing me and it honestly gave me chills. We all know Derek is never up to any good.

Why wasn't he hitting me back? Why wasn't he screaming? The silence was worse than the violence.

"Let's go," he muttered, standing up and wiping his lip with the back of his hand. He didn't look at me again until we were at the door.

Downstairs, the world was a different planet. The noise hit us like a physical wall, champagne glasses clinking, music thumping, people laughing like they didn't have a single secret in the world. I felt like a ghost, just drifting through the lights.

Then I saw him.

Bradley.

The Cheating Bastard.

He was standing by the punch bowl, laughing at something Derek’s friends were saying. He looked so relaxed. So untouchable. He had no idea I hac seen him. He had no idea his whole life was currently sitting in my hands.

I felt Derek’s presence beside me. He was watching Bradley too, his jaw clenched so hard I could see the muscle in his cheek jumping. I had no idea why he was looking at Bradley with so much hate now, I wondered if they had a misunderstanding between them. Or what if Derek knows his hoe had switched from son to father?

Should I do it?

I could just walk over there. I could scream it. I could tell the whole room that Bradley was f*****g my mum's husband. I could watch the wedding fall apart. I could watch my mum crumble. She thought Mr. Miller was the best thing that happened to her and I was a stain in her path, little does she know she married the very thing she loathed. A man who likes men.

My hands were balled into fists at my sides. My blood was boiling, but not just with anger. It was that sick, twisted high of having power. I was a nobody, a bullied kid, a stepbrother who was supposed to just sit down and shut up. But I knew the truth.

I took a step toward the punch bowl.

"Gabe," Derek’s voice was a low growl, "Where are you going?"

I didn't answer Derek. I kept on walking, I had the power in my hands now. Knowledge is Power, and I was about to use it to save myself from this mad house.