Fraud: A Stepbrother Romance (2 page)

While in the service, he’d never been
married. When he got out, he’d started the business, and for a while that was
all he had.

But, then he met my mother.

She’d been a country western backup
vocalist with Merle Haggard and even did some work with Tim McGraw.

Then, I came along, and Dad and Mom were
all wrapped up in helping me grow into a little girl who liked ponies, and doll
tea-parties, and all the girly things I really loved. I went to a private
school, and took piano lessons and all that.

My favorite kitty was named “Mr. Boots”,
and I would try to dress him up with bonnets or sweaters that my Mom would knit
for me.

It was a picture perfect childhood.

Mom was a very sweet woman, and she would
sing songs to me, while Dad was out playing golf or doing whatever to drum up
more contracts.

I remember how happy we were, as Dad’s
business grew, and my mother and I spent hour upon hour doing all the things
most people only dream about doing with their mom.

It was a wonderful time, and seemed
magical.

I’d never been happier.

Then, when I was just fourteen, Mom got
sick.

She had cancer, and Dad spent a lot of money
trying to help her fight it.

She lost.

*****

Dad was at loose ends for a while, then
one day he showed up with Margaret.

“Just call me Peg,” she said to me.

Peg had two sons, one who was my age and
the other one a lot older. Derek and Blaise were their names.

Derek and I soon became fast friends, but
Blaise was a mean, spiteful little shit.

If Blaise had been a girl, then he’d have
been Cinderella’s meanest step-sister.

I was relieved when he finally went off to
college.

But, a few years later, when Derek joined
the Navy, I was crushed.

I thought that he’d at least ask me to
move out with him, or run away to some foreign country. I’d daydream that we
were in Paris, living the Bohemian life, and making sweet love in the evenings.

My imagination fueled many of my teen-aged
orgasmic dreams, but then one day Derek was simply not there anymore. He’d gone
off to join the Navy.

And that meant I had to deal with Peg
directly.

Until then, she had been content to let
Blaise handle all her dirty work for her.

Before he left, Derek had acted as a minor
but effective barrier between us.

Shortly after they’d been married, Peg
would hide her manipulative scheming behind Blaise, and blame him whenever I’d
go crying to Dad.

At first, Dad would believe me and was even-handed
in his discipline, but I guess old Peg would swallow, or take it up the ass, or
something, because Dad became more and more on her side in these arguments.

Blaise became a more adept liar, and Dad
finally just let Peg handle the disciplinary duties of the family.

He must have still had a lot of the
mindset of men from his generation, not wanting to be bothered with the raising
of the children, as that was ‘women’s work’. Which didn’t necessarily make him
an asshole, but it certainly didn’t help me at the time.

Peg would interfere constantly whenever I
showed any sign of interest in boys, and in Derek in particular.

Once, she even smacked me in the face with
a coat-hanger.

When I told Dad, he just rolled his eyes
and told me I’d have to do better, as Peg was very clear in her instructions.

He took away my privileges for two weeks!
When I cried and protested, he just shook his head and walked away.

I looked at him leaving with disbelief,
and ran to my room, crying. I’d never been so humiliated, and felt totally
alone.

Peg’s smirk of triumph made it all the
worse.

“You stay in there until you can behave
like a young lady,” I heard her say through the door.

I did hear them yelling at each other
later that night, but by next morning, Dad was back under her spell.

“Now you know who wears the pants in this
family, and it surely isn’t that ball-less cretin,” she said acidly.

“Try me again, you little bitch, and
you’ll be so sorry you’ll never know what hit you!” she screamed.

I was stunned.

Two weeks went by, and I swore I’d never
be held under her claws ever again. I bided my time, avoiding her like the
plague.

On those times when we’d have to interact,
I was strictly obedient to the letter, but only just.

She could sense my hatred of her, and
tried like hell to burn me, but I was getting very good at playing this stupid
game.

Finally, I’d had enough.

My last year in high school, I studied my
ass off, graduated with honors, got a scholarship, and moved out.

Peg was seething, but there was nothing to
be done about it.

I was just eighteen, and that made me an
adult in the eyes of the law.

My Dad was sorry to see me go, but he knew
I needed to go out on my own and get away from Peg’s toxicity.

He quietly helped me pack up and move. He
never said anything negative about Peg, but I could sense his relief at not
being in the middle between us.

It made me feel sad that he’d given his
life to this harpy. But, I also realized that it was his choice.

“I love you, Daddy! Thank you for helping
me get organized here at college,” I told him.

We hugged, and then he kissed my cheek and
looked me in the eyes.

“Don’t judge me too harshly, Megan,” he
said.

I could sense he was almost on the verge
of tears.

“You don’t know what my life’s been like
since your Mother passed on,” he said.

He seemed to want to add something else,
but then he just hugged me once more, and got into the moving truck, and drove
off, waving.

The leaves whispered in the trees as he
left, and I felt very sad for him.

He was going back to where I had just
escaped.

And, he was doing it for me.

I was sure of it.

*****

About a year later, Dad had a stroke.

I went to see him in the hospital, and Peg
left the room while I was there.

He was really messed up, and even shed a
couple of tears when I told him how well I was doing in school.

He smiled feebly at me when I took his
hand and told him how much I loved him.

I asked if he were proud of me, and he
barely nodded.

But, I knew he was.

I couldn’t give him a big hug, so I just
kissed his hand, near where the IV tubes were inserted. He winced slightly, and
so I just patted his arm, and then walked out.

I made it to my car before I broke down
completely.

I cried a long time, then drove my rental
car back to the airport.

*****

It was almost a year later when he died.

He never got to see me get my Juris
Doctor, but I know he would have been proud.

I attended his funeral, went to the
reading of his will.

Derek was deployed somewhere, and he
didn’t show.

But, of course, Peg did.

I only spoke to Peg for as long as I
needed to get the necessary legal matters settled, and then left to live my own
life.

Peg was there with George Tanner.

I didn’t know who that bastard was, then,
and I just noted he seemed put together okay - ruggedly handsome, kind of
sinister looking in a nondescript way.

I don’t know why he was even there.

Peg certainly didn’t need him for sex.

After all, Peg can fuck herself.

*****

Peg cheated on Dad with at least three men
that I know.

The first was Sam Parker, who was Dad’s
close friend and partner. 

Peg and he had a brief affair, and Sam
divorced his wife, but Peg stayed married to Dad. I don’t think Dad suspected
anything.

Sam was a successful black Officer from
the Marines, who had the political contacts they needed to get into the armor
business.

Sam was very loyal to Dad, at first, but
then when Mom got sick, he kept pestering Dad about the amount of time he was
spending taking care of her. Dad and Sam had some harsh words, but Sam needed
Dad more than Dad needed Sam.

Peg’s next lover was the air conditioner
guy. I called him that, because I never knew his name, and it seemed to me that
the A/C was always fucked up. I didn’t put it together until one day I saw Peg
stick a hairpin into the thermostat on the third floor of our house.

Next thing you know, here comes the A/C
Guy.

He was nothing special, but he was pretty
swarthy and muscular.

I heard them screwing in my Dad’s room,
and was going to say something to him about it.

But, I lost my nerve when Peg told me she’d
tell Dad about me and Derek.

The last guy was someone I only recognized
when I was reviewing the King case files.

He was an associate of Robert King, named
George Tanner.

I knew the face, but only discovered that
Peg knew him when she showed up at the funeral.

I suspected that George Tanner had
something to do with Sam’s death.

At least, he was the last person seen with
Sam, before Sam’s burned out wreck was discovered at the bottom of a ravine in
Racine, Wisconsin.

There was some possibility of foul play,
but nothing could be proven. The body had been burned beyond recognition.

Sam and George had been both seen in Las
Vegas, and then Reno. There was a definite business connection between them.

And, the fact that both had been fucking
Peg was interesting, in some morbid way.

Despite my suspicions, I had not been able
to uncover anything during the trial.

I remembered seeing a photo of George and
Bobby King on that fishing boat in Key Largo that was in Dad’s affects while
reviewing the contents of his safety deposit box.

The boat was named the
“Punta Gordo II”
. 

That means “Fat Tip”, in Spanish.

No doubt a reference to how much of a dick
the owner was supposed to have…or be.

But, the letter “n” was almost invisible, so
it really read “
Puta Gordo II
”, which I found odd and funny.

It’s Spanish for “Fat Whore”.

That photo dug at my memory for a long
time, because I knew that boat.

Back when I was a kid, it had been parked
on the dock outside of our house for almost two years, coming and going at odd
intervals.

I always wanted to ride on it, but Dad
never even let me on board.

He told me he was keeping it for Sam, and
that he promised to look after it. But Sam was funny about kids being on the
boat, and didn’t want me on board, so that I wouldn’t get into trouble.

I tried sneaking onto it one time, but all
I got was grounded for a week, so after that I just ignored it.

*****

What were King and Tanner doing on Sam’s
boat?

MEGAN

After Dad died, Peg got the mansion on the
water, and most of Dad’s money.

Oh, I got a nice trust fund, and wasn’t
hurting by any means.

Dad had made sure I had college covered,
and the fund allowed me to travel around for a while.

I missed him, and it took a couple years
to finally realize he wasn’t going to pick up the phone ever again when I
called late at night.

I’d long ago decided Peg could fuck
herself, so I rarely went back to Florida.

She could just fuck off and die, and I
wouldn’t even care much.

She’d totally screwed me over, and ruined
anything I could possibly ever have had with Derek.

Her and her asshole son, Blaise.

After George Tanner, Peg ended up dating a
series of wealthy men; doctors, businessmen, but no attorneys.

I guess she had some issue with them since
I had gone off to study the law.

*****

Derek had fallen of the face of the earth,
now completely inside the Navy.

I was sure he was doing dangerous work,
and he would be killed! The thought of him doing brave things made me proud of
him, while at the same time my heart sank!

I silently prayed he would be safe, and
secretly wished he’d come back and we could be together.

*****

When I was a teenager, I thought Derek and
I were meant to be together, and that it was just a matter of time until it
happened.

That he was my stepbrother made it
awkward, but I was too young to understand all that.

When I ended up in college, I finally
understood that it would be impossible for us to be united in ‘that way’.

I became depressed, and suddenly
everything was difficult.

I struggled with my classes, and took to
eating too much.

I rarely went out, and my sorority sisters
thought I was a big stick in the mud.

“Come party with us!” they’d say.

But I demurred, and begged it off as
needing to study.

Which I really did, but then I’d lock
myself in my room with a pint of ice cream, and a box of tissues, and mourn my
failed romance with Derek.

Which, of course, Derek never even seemed
to acknowledge…I mean, it’s not like he knew my real feelings, right?

He’d sent some letters and emails to me
when he could, but I knew he had no interest in pursuing the life I wanted for
us both.

He was always off on some great adventure,
saving America from all the evil terrorists and other villains out there.

My own boring life paled in comparison
with such excitement.

What could I possibly offer a man of
action like Derek had become?

*****

At that point, I hated my education and
life so much I just wanted to die.

One day, while walking around between
classes I was dodging anyway, I thought about jumping in front of a train or
bus, but decided it was too messy.

I thought maybe I’d just swallow a handful
of pills and drift off to oblivion, but that seemed cowardly.

Since I didn’t own a gun, that was out.

Maybe I could hang myself? Or jump off a
bridge?

Sheesh!

What a train wreck!

What a drama queen, I thought.

The world would be better off if I were
gone, I thought.

I was walking down the street, heartbroken
and sad, when I came upon the unlikely solution to my woes - Alfred.

Alfred was this funny little dog, that was
huddled under a bush.

He looked scared and hungry, and shrank
away from me when I held out my hand to him.

I really don’t know what breed he was, but
he looked a bit like a beagle mixed with a Chihuahua. Maybe some dachshund in
there, too.

I coaxed him out of the weeds, and he
cuddled in my cupped hands.

He whined a little, then licked my
fingers. He nibbled my forefinger, and I took him back to my apartment.

I gave him some milk and half and half,
while I drank a coffee and did a quick search for pet stores near me.

An hour later, Alfred was bathed and fed,
and had an appointment with a vet to get his shots.

His cute brown puppy eyes looked at me and
he licked my face.

I rubbed his tiny head, and he yawned and
soon fell asleep.

I felt the glimmer of hope, and a feeling
of happiness I hadn’t in a while.

I silently thanked the Lord for sending
him to me.

A month later, we were inseparable.

He wasn’t Derek, but at least I had come back
to life.

*****

After I graduated Magna Cum Laude with my
undergrad degree, I applied for Law School at Harvard.

When I was accepted, Peg sent me a single
text message: “Good luck on your husband hunt. You will need it! ‘Love’,
‘Mom’.”

Just like that, with the quotes around
‘love’ and ‘Mom’.

The poison dripping from her fangs was
palpable. 

God, I hated her!

After graduation, I was too busy with my
career to care anything much about her.

Oh, I sent an obligatory card for a
holiday or birthday, but I was wasting my time trying to have any kind of
normal relationship with her.

And then, Derek was back in my life for a
few blessed months.

*****

He had been working on some kind of
classified program, and the startup that had won the contract lost some
funding, so he was between gigs, and he needed a place to crash for a while.

He never spoke much about his work, since
he’d been indoctrinated into that kind of life.

Dad had been much the same.

He’d always be doing interesting stuff,
but none of it was able to be discussed outside of the community. All that
top-secret mumbo jumbo got pretty dull after a while for the rest of the
family, since he couldn’t confirm nor deny anything.

One time, we saw him smiling at a news
report about some state-of-the-art laser weapon that had been in the news.

“Old news,” was all he said when we asked
him about it.

Years later, after he’d died, I’d found
out from a fellow attorney who specialized in the JAG cases that Dad had
apparently been the head of that project. He’d been in charge of it for like
fifteen years, and never said a word about it to any of us.

Derek had that same reticent behavior when
it came to his work. He would merely change the subject.

When he called me and said he’d be in town
for a few weeks, my heart skipped a beat.

He asked if I could stay with me, and I
replied that, of course, he could bunk with me!

I had a comfortable apartment at the time,
and a spare sofa bed.

When I hung up the phone, my nipples were
erect, and my loins ached for him.

I’d gladly let him stay with me, hoping we
could finally address the elephant in the room - how we really felt about each
other.

But, my case load was pretty heavy, and
Derek was always trying to lasso his next gig, or so it seemed.

So, we never really got into anything
serious.

*****

Alfred had grown into a wonderful
companion, and I looked at him as my comfort animal.

When Derek showed up, they immediately
made friends, and from then on, were a kind of small, tidy family.

Derek took Alfred for walks in the park,
while I was working or studying cases.

When I came home, Derek would have cleaned
up my place, and fed and bathed Alfred.

I wished it would last forever.

There was only one thing really missing,
and I was terrified to bring it up.

Things were going so well!

But, my heart ached for Derek, and my skin
wanted his touch.

*****

Of course, Derek was the kind of man any
girl would consider a catch.

He was tall, athletic, and well-muscled.

He had a nice brown tan, in the summer,
that almost made it through the winter.

Then, his appearance just became rugged
and manly.

He occasionally sported a mustache and
beard, but even when he shaved, he had that strong five-o-clock shadow some men
get.

He had the most beautiful blue eyes, and
his dirty-blonde hair was thick and luxurious.

You wanted to run your fingers through it,
and then use it to pull his face closer to yours.

Those perfect teeth, even and white,
gleamed when he smiled. It was enough to make you wet and your legs turn to
jelly when he turned those eyes on you and smiled.

And his strong arms, and legs made all
kinds of thoughts run through your head.

I’d imagine the two of us, stranded on a
beach on some desert island, with Derek bringing a fresh catch of some
delicious fish to our fire. While it roasted, he’d sit and take my hand and
gently tell me all about how he caught it. Alfred would come over and sit and
pant and then just get comfortable and settle down.

Derek would smile and lean over and kiss
me with that luscious mouth, the heady scent of him making me wet and my loins
quiver inside.

*****

Derek often went out for interviews, or so
he was telling me, but I thought there might have been more to it than that.

I never pried, but there were small clues
that he was doing some things he didn’t want to share with me. I respected his
privacy, and let him come and go as he pleased.

And, thankfully, it gave me a little alone
time to take care of the sexual tension that was always just under the surface.

He was the star of my self-pleasuring,
once again, and always.

When I would shower, I’d turn the water on
full and point the wonderful warm liquid on my pussy, and pretend Derek was
licking my lips.

I’d imagine his tongue working its way in
and out, circling my button.

When I’d masturbate this way, I was always
satisfied with a gushing orgasm, calling out Derek’s name to the sound of the
rushing water.

I would have died of embarrassment if he’d
walked in on me, so I was careful to lock my bathroom door.

Sadly, he never was around to interrupt my
wild, imaginary escapades.

Finished, I’d towel off, making a small
smile and humming tunelessly, wishing I could have more of him.

The real Derek White.

*****

One night, we watched a movie on Netflix
together on the sofa bed where he’d been sleeping.

It had gotten very late, and Derek was too
lazy to move, and I was too tired to argue, so we fell asleep next to each
other.

During the night, I snuggled against him,
and he woke up, looking directly into my sleepy eyes.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Megan,” he
said, gently stroking my hair.

“I wish things were different,” he
whispered, and then kissed my nose.

I was so tired, but happy, and pushed my
face into his chest, drinking in that heady, masculine scent.

I fell asleep.

I remember wishing we could make love, and
then had one of those dreams you’d swear was real, where we were kissing and
hugging and … more.

But, the next morning, when I woke up, my
clothes were all still on, and Derek had gone off to an interview for another
job.

He’d made coffee and left out the
ingredients for a quick breakfast, along with this cryptic note: “Thanks for
last night! You’re dreamy!”

*****

A week later, Derek had found another gig,
this one about six hundred miles away.

He kissed my nose when he left.

I waved goodbye, my brain yelling at me to
“FUCKING SAY SOMETHING! DO SOMETHING! TELL HIM HOW YOU FEEL!”

But, Derek just got into his taxi, and
drove off, leaving me frustrated, angry and miserable.

We’d never talked about our feelings at
all, save that one inscrutable note.

I cried myself to sleep for a week.

Thank God Alfred was there to at least
lick my face. He must have liked those salty tears, I guess.