Stepbrother: Impossible Love (13 page)

The next day, Saturday morning, Jack offered to drive me back to his father’s place. I accepted, though it was a gorgeous day out.

“Only if you leave the top down on the car,” I told him. I wanted to feel the summer air running through my hair as we sped along the road.

It wasn’t a long drive, and we quickly arrived at the estate. Jack slowed down the car, so it made as little noise as possible. I recognized that he didn’t want to make his presence known, and I didn’t say anything. After all, it was Saturday, there was a good chance his father was home.

“Thanks for the ride,” I told him, kissing him before I stepped out of the car.

“No problem Jules,” he answered. His phone rang but he ignored it, kissing me again before I got out and went into the house.

Letting myself in, as Anita usually had Saturdays off, I immediately heard yelling coming from inside the house. It was John, yelling.

Immediately my blood went cold. The high I’d been on for the last twenty four hours faded just like that as I ran into the sitting room just inside the hallway leading to the main living area. My mother was on the floor, crying, her hand to her face. John was standing on top of her, yelling about how he does so much for her, the least she could do is make sure his friends are taken care of when they arrive announced.

“What the FUCK is this?” I yelled. John turned to look at me. Then he looked at my mother, whose eyes were also on me, filled with a sadness I’d never seen. Sadness at the fact that I had to see this, or sadness at what her husband was doing to her? I wasn’t sure.

Suddenly, he came at me.

“No!” I screamed, grabbing a book, the only thing I could think of, off the table. It wouldn’t do much as an attack weapon, but maybe I could defend myself with it.

Before I had a chance, there was a blur to my side. Jack came between myself and his father, and immediately pummelled him in the face. Blood splattered all over me as his father’s nose broke, howling with a cry so anguished I’d never heard anything like it.

“Pick on someone who can fight back next time, you fucking asshole,” Jack growled at his father as he began punching him.

His father fell to the floor, and Jack kicked him in the ribs, hard. I heard another crack. There was no way Jack was going to stop, he was going to beat his father to death if I let him.

“Jack, no, stop!” I begged, “Stop, for me, please Jack.”

That seemed to calm him down somewhat.

“Why? The man was going to hit you. I’m putting him down, the way we do to animals.”

John Alcott Sr. was lying on the floor, whimpering with pain. A pool of blood was already forming near his face, the crimson stain slowly growing.

“You’ll be charged with murder, Jack. We won’t be able to be together.” I took his hands in mind, looked at his face. “This is the right thing to do. We’ll call an ambulance, and the police. He’ll be arrested. He’ll face justice.”

“You’re the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me, you know?” Jack replied, taking out his phone. He dialled 999 and asked for an ambulance and the police to arrive.

My mother, meanwhile, was still sobbing on the floor. She hadn’t moved since the whole thing started.

Suddenly, John Alcott let out a loud groan. He clutched at his chest.

“Uggghhhhh,” he cried out.

“Is he having a heart attack?” I gasped.

“No! John, no!” my mom cried out suddenly, realizing her husband was in trouble.

Jack simply stared at his father, his expression like stone, as the father looked up at his son, his mouth forming noiseless words. I looked between the two, truly understanding the hatred Jack held for his father right in that moment.

“Go to hell,” Jack said, spitting on his father, then turning around and leaving the room.

By the time the ambulance arrived, John Alcott Sr. was already dead. He had closed his eyes and breathed one final, raspy breath a few seconds after Jack left the room, and my mother was left sobbing over his body while I stood at the end of the room, still holding the book I was going to use to defend myself against him.

I looked at the title.

Crime and Punishment, by Tolstoy. How fitting.

I went over to my mother and took her into my arms. She was sobbing, she was a complete mess. Her face was bloodied, I saw bruising on her arms, and in that moment my heart melted for her. She was still grieving, still distressed about the man’s death, even after he had done that to her. How she must have loved him!

The ambulance showed up five minutes later. Jack led them into the room, where the body was waiting. They quickly realized there was nothing left to do, and left. As they were leaving the police arrived.

“No one told us there was a body, we have to call the coroner.”

“There was no body when I called,” Jack explained. “He was alive then.”

The next few hours passed by in a blur. The police separated all of us, questioned us about what happened. I knew I could have asked for a lawyer, but I wanted to tell the truth. They needed to know that this wasn’t Jack’s fault.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, we were all taken back to the main foyer of the house.

“I don’t see a reason as to why Mr. Alcott Jr here should be taken into custody. There is enough corroboration that he was defending the ladies from an attacker, and that he suffered a heart attack. Mrs. Reeves is quite adamant that Mr. Alcott Jr. should be arrested, but quite frankly, we don’t see it that way. While Mr. Alcott did cause his father’s death, it was obviously in the defense of a third party. I will ask that you stay in the county, however, until the investigation is closed.”

“Thank you, detective inspector,” I told the man, having been corrected when I first called him “detective”.

When everyone finally left, the body had been taken away, and only the three of us were left in the house, it felt eerily silent. A man had died in this house today. I had seen his body.

It felt strange. I knew I didn’t want to sleep alone tonight. I also didn’t want my mother alone in the house. I wondered if Jack would be willing to sleep here again, now that his father was gone.

“I’m going to go make some calls. People have to be notified,” my mom said, almost like a zombie.

Jack and I went up to my room. I began sobbing. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t even know why. But once I started, the tears wouldn’t stop.

“Shh, it’s over. It’s over,” Jack whispered, holding my head to his chest. I sobbed into his shirt, soaking the cotton.

“How did you know?” I asked.

“I was on the phone. I decided to return the call I’d missed before going home, and I didn’t want to drive while on the phone. You left the front door open, and when I heard the cries, I came running.”

“You always have perfect timing when it comes to saving me.”

“It’s a superpower I hope I never lose.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. The man was a monster. I’m glad he’s gone.”

I hugged Jack tighter.

“Can you sleep here with me tonight?”

“Of course. I’d like that.”

I went and spent some time with my mom, who was still distraught beyond words. I asked her if she wanted to go to the hospital, but she said no. She took a sleeping pill, and went to bed. In the morning I would find her still there, her pillow completely soaked with her tears.

Jack and I did the same a minute later, falling asleep wrapped in each other’s arms. Who would have known that one day could have been so amazing, and the next so awful?

Over the next few days, my mother grieved by taking care of everything. She met with the lawyers, she organized the funeral, she made sure everyone in John’s calendar knew what had happened, she organized the buyout of his share of the business – Jack had told her he wanted nothing to do with the man, or his legacy.

Originally, my mother had been incredibly annoyed at Jack. She already wasn’t thrilled we were dating, but to have her stepson be responsible for her husband’s death didn’t put him in her good books.

“It was him or you, Mary,” Jack told her one day, after she gave him another glare. “He would have killed you eventually. You know it, I know it. He deserved what he got.”

If anything that only made their relationship worse, but I have to give it to my mom: she was fair. The title and the estate were left to Jack, but everything else was my mom’s. The total figure in her bank accounts was now in the billions. She gave half of it to Jack, telling him that no son should be left out in the cold like that.

Jack thanked her, and told her he was sorry her husband was dead, and I smiled as the first wounds between the two of them began to heal.

Later, a few weeks later, when everything began to settle down, I spoke with my mom about her relationship with John, and how he was hitting her.

“He did start before the wedding. And I had doubts then. I didn’t know about Jack’s claims back then. But you know when I had that bruise on my face and I told you I slipped on some ice?”

I nodded.

“I didn’t slip on some ice. He had done that. It was the first time he hit me. I was going to leave him, but he apologized. He said it was so unlike him, that he would never do it again. I shouldn’t have believed him.”

“But that wasn’t the last time?”

“No. He started being more controlling, then the next time he told me it was my fault, he grabbed me by the arm during an argument so hard that it bruised.”

I realized then why my mother had started wearing more modest clothing; it was to cover up the proof that John had been hitting her.

“I still loved him, though, Julianne. That’s the worst part. I started believing it was my fault, that I deserved it. After all, I was so lucky to be with him. And even now, knowing that what he did was wrong and it wasn’t my fault, I still love him. Is that really so wrong?”

“There’s a lot of things about love that might seem wrong, but aren’t necessarily,” I told her, and she took me in her arms and held me close.

* * *

I think the funeral provided some necessary closure for Jack. He seemed brighter afterwards, like he had a new lease on life.

Two weeks after his father’s death I sat with Jack in the garden behind the house.

“You know, since my father died, it really feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. There were just too many bad memories there.”

“I’ve noticed, you seem happier.”

“Nothing could make me happier than being with you, Jules.” I loved the way the name sounded when he said it. He fumbled with his hands, as though he was wondering if he should say something. Finally, he decided. “You know, in fact, I’ve realized in the last few weeks just what you mean to me. When I saw my father coming at you, I knew in that moment that I would do literally anything to save you. I can’t imagine my life without you. I don’t want to spend another day without you. Julianne Reeves, Jules, will you marry me?”

My heart swelled, and the words were out of my mouth before I’d even thought about it. I didn’t need to think about it.

“Yes. Yes, of course, Jack.”

The End

Hi! I’m Victoria Villeneuve. I’m a small town girl at heart, with dreams of living in a cabin in the country with my two dogs and my amazing boyfriend Mike. When I’m not writing you can usually find me enjoying a nice mocha in my local coffee shop, reading some of my favorite books by the lake or playing soccer with my friends.

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