Oops My Stepbrother and His Rival Want Me

CHAPTER THREE: UNFINISHED

"I'm what, Vee."

His jaw works. For a second I actually think he's going to say it, the real word, the one he's swallowed every single time this exact moment has come up between us. His thumb stills against my jaw, like even his hands are waiting to see which version of him wins this time. Then something closes off behind his eyes instead, fast, practiced, the way a door locks itself without anyone touching the handle.

"Important." Careful. Measured. The safest word in his whole vocabulary. "You're important to me, Keira. More than you know."

Disappointment lands harder than I expect it to, sharp enough that I look away first.

"Right. Important." I pull back from his hand before he can stop me. "Same word you've been using since this started. Cool. Great talk."

"Keira—"

"No, it's fine." It's not fine. My voice comes out tighter than I want it to, which only proves how much it isn't fine. "You almost say it every time. Every single time, Vee. Then you find a smaller word at the last second and hand me that instead, like I won't notice the difference."

"That's not what I'm doing."

"It's exactly what you're doing."

"Keira." He says my name like it's the only word he trusts himself with right now. "There are things I can't say to you tonight. Doesn't mean they're not true."

"Then when, Vee. When's the night you actually say one of them?"

He doesn't answer. That's an answer in itself, and we both know it.

His phone goes off, loud and obscene in the quiet, and he swears under his breath without looking away from me. It rings twice more before he finally checks it, and whatever's on the screen makes his whole body go rigid.

"I have to go."

"Of course you do." I cross my arms, mostly so he can't see my hands shake. "Perfect timing, as always."

"Marcus says two of our shipments got intercepted on the east side. Both of them, same night Rezo walks in here." His jaw sets, hard, the version of him that runs a club instead of the version that almost said something real two minutes ago. "Two hits, same night, routes I never told anyone outside my own guys. That's not bad luck."

"You think it's him?"

"I think it's exactly the move he'd make to clear me out of this building long enough to come back for you." He's already pulling his jacket tighter, already gone somewhere I can't follow. "Marco locks the doors behind me. Theo takes you straight home, no stops. You don't open the door for anyone who isn't me."

"I'm not a child, Vee."

"I know. That's not what this is." He stops in the doorway, looks back at me like he's memorizing something he's scared of losing. "Stay safe tonight. Please."

The door shuts harder than it needs to.

Theo's staring at me like I just grew a second head. "Did Viper almost just—"

"Don't."

"He did. I have eyes, Keira."

"We're not doing this right now." I grab my jacket off the stool, mostly to have something to do with my hands. "Drive me home."

He drives badly, because he keeps glancing over at every red light instead of watching the road, and twice I have to remind him green means go.

"So," he says, somewhere around the second light. "Almost-confession Viper. That's new."

"It's not new. It's just the first time you've seen it happen out loud."

"How many times has it happened not out loud?"

"More than I want to count tonight."

"That's insane. You two are insane. The whole bar is insane, actually, now that I think about it, because a strange man also held a gun to Marco's head and then apparently decided you were the real prize of the evening, which, again, deeply unhinged, but also kind of a lot."

"He's terrifying, Theo."

"Those words mean the same thing to you lately and that's between you and your therapist."

"I don't have a therapist."

"You should really get one. Tonight alone is basically a referral."

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I almost ignore it, except something makes me check, some stupid instinct I don't have room for tonight on top of everything else.

*Found your name. Keira. Suits you.*

A second text lands before I can process the first one.

*Don't bother asking how. You'll find out eventually. Everything else, you'll find out a lot sooner than that.*

Theo cranes his neck toward me at the next red light, trying to read the screen upside down, and his face goes pale doing it. "Oh my god. Oh my god, Keira, is that the gun guy?"

A third text lands before I can answer him.

*Tell your brother I said thanks for the name. Made the rest of tonight a lot easier to plan.*

My thumbs hover over the screen for a long ten seconds before I manage anything back.

*how did you get this number*

The reply comes almost instantly, like he'd been sitting there with the phone already in his hand.

*Same way I got everything else tonight. I wanted it.*

"Block him," Theo says, voice gone tight, eyes back on the road now that the light's turned green. "Block him right now, that's actual stalker behavior, Keira—"

"I know what it is."

"Then block him."

I don't. I don't fully understand why I don't, except that some stupid, traitorous part of me is already typing out a reply before I've decided whether I even want to send it.

*you held a gun to someone's head an hour ago and you think texting me is the move that fixes that*

*Didn't say I was fixing anything. Said I wanted your name. Got it. Wanting the rest of you was never optional, it was just a matter of time.*

*you don't even know me*

*Working on it. Going to enjoy every part of figuring you out, if that's the part you're worried about.*

*you should be worried about my brother finding out you're texting me*

*I'm counting on it.*

I delete my next response twice before I let myself send anything real. Theo's gone quiet beside me, watching the road like he's actively trying not to look at my phone again, which means he's absolutely still looking.

"He wants Viper to find out," I say, mostly to myself.

"Of course he does." Theo doesn't even glance over this time. "Guys like that don't want a secret. They want a war they can win."

My thumb hovers over the screen, three different replies typed and erased by the time Theo pulls onto my street, and I still haven't decided which version of myself is supposed to answer a text like that.