Read Online Escape: A Stepbrother Romance Novella by Stephanie Brother - Free Book Online Page A

snort in exasperation.  With Adam it’s all about the money.
    “Yeah,
I’ve got it.”
    “Good. 
You stay wherever you are.  I’ll talk to Leon and set something up for
tomorrow. And I’ll get Connor to start digging around about tonight.  I have a
feeling the sons of bitches are the same that have been giving us trouble, and
if they are we’ll make them sorry they ever tried anything with us.”
    “Okay.”
    “We
need to take a closer look at the crew,” he says as an afterthought.  “Maybe
Tom’s not the only traitorous cunt in the group.”
    “Who
the fuck knows,” I say, finally feeling relaxed enough that I can sit on the
edge of the bed.
    “Tomorrow,”
Adam says, and that’s his way of saying goodbye.
    “Tomorrow.”
    I
lay down on the bed, the soft comforter cool against my bare skin.  The ceiling
is a maze of cracks and stains.  It’s a fucking horrible hotel but right now it
feels as safe as anywhere. 
    I
could have died tonight.  It’s like a flash of clarity through the fog. 
    I
could have died and what would I have done in my life that was anything worth
remembering?  Sammie has a little box of my achievements in her closet. 
Nothing else I’ve done since then is worth shit. 
    Sammie.
    I
think about what it would have been like for her to see my picture in the
newspapers, another statistic of the criminal underground.  Would she have
cried?  I know she would.  She’d probably be the only person in the whole world
that would mourn the loss of me.  And what does that say about my life, that I
could have spent so many years and gathered so little that’s important or
meaningful?
    I
know I shouldn’t contact her again but there’s a burning desperation inside me,
a crystal clear realization that I can’t go on like this anymore.  Her card is
tucked deep inside my wallet, and I pull it out, holding my phone above me so I
can dial her number.  It’s late.  She might be sleeping. Her phone might be
turned off. 
    The
tone sounds against my ear, one ring, and two.  On the third she picks up.
    “Hello,”
she says, sounding sleepy and a little dazed.
    “Sammie.”
I can hear the moment she realizes it’s me in the way her breath hitches.
    “Bran?”
    “Yeah,
it’s me.”
    “I
didn’t think I was gonna hear from you again.”
    “I
didn’t think I was going to call.”
    “But
you did.”
    “Yeah,
I did.”
    “Are
you okay?” she asks, worry changing her voice.
    “Yeah,”
I lie.  “I just wanted to hear your voice.”
    “Oh.”
    “Were
you sleeping?” I ask, getting a mental picture of her tucked up in her big
white bed, blonde hair spread over the crisp white pillows, wearing a soft pink
satin nightdress.  Everything sweet and warm and as far from my reality as I
can imagine.
    “Yeah
but it doesn’t matter.  I’m glad you called.”
    “Sammie…” 
I start, but I don’t know what to say.  I don’t know why the fuck I called
except that I wanted to hear her voice and feel the connection again that tugs
at the empty hole in my chest and makes it feel less like a big black cave. 
    “Yeah,
baby,” she says softly and my throat burns like I might cry.  Fuck.  I haven’t
cried since I was thirteen and some eighteen year old kids kicked the shit out
of me at school.
    “What
do you dream about?” I ask.  We used to talk about our dreams.  The real ones
and our hopes for the future.  She knew all my secrets and I think I knew hers.
    “Last
night I dreamed about you,” she says quietly.  “It’s been a long time since you
came to me in my sleep.”
    “And
what did I do?” I ask, resting my empty hand against my stomach. 
    “I
kept seeing you across the street, and I’d try and cross but there was a
constant stream of traffic, and you wouldn’t look at me.  You kept walking and
I was shouting and waving but you kept walking.”  She sounds genuinely
disturbed by the dream and I am too.  I don’t want her to feel like I don’t
care