IN LOVE WITH DAVE: MY HOT STEPBROTHER

CARMEN

His seductive stare made my skin crawl. I could feel his flirting eyes stuck on me from across the bar, molesting and undressing me with his gaze.

My heart flipped as I looked over the bar to see the strange, middle-aged man staring at me. He had a smug smirk sitting on his face, never taking his eyes off me, even when he drew his cup to his lips to take a sip of whiskey.

“I hate night shifts,” I mumbled to myself as I busied myself by cleaning the counter of the bar.

I would shoot glares in the man’s direction, a signal that I was not interested in him, but none of it seemed to faze him as he returned my glares with lewd looks directed at my breasts.

I tapped my fingers against the countertop as I checked the watch on my wrist; my shift would be over soon.

Before I could breathe a sigh of relief, the middle-aged man made his way towards me with his now-empty glass.

“I would like a refill,” he announced for the fourth time that night as he placed the glass on the countertop with a slam.

Without a word, I took the glass of whiskey and started to pour it into the glass.

This time, he didn’t return to the table in the corner of the bar where he had come from. He sat on one of the barstools in front of me, leaning against the counter as he asked, “Tell me, do you provide other services?”

I hunched my nose, half at the whiff of alcohol I got and the other half at the thought of where he was going with the conversation.

“No.” I shook my head.

“How much?” he questioned.

“What?” I narrowed my eyes on him.

“How much for each of them?” He shamelessly pointed his fingers at my breasts, a look of amusement in his eyes.

“I think you’ve had more than enough—”

“I’m here.” The sound of Luke, who would be taking the shift after mine, brought me a sense of relief.

“About time,” I sighed as I gave Luke an acknowledging nod, taking off my work shirt.

“They look even better,” the strange man commented, his predatory eyes scanning me in the shirt I had worn underneath my work shirt.

“Goodnight, Luke.” I smiled as I grabbed my pay from a shelf, taking my purse in my hand and rushing out of the bar.

I sighed at the crisp air of the night as I headed to a pharmacy two streets away to get my inhaler and my father’s medication since it was the only thing I could afford for him at that moment.

Chemo was expensive and we didn’t have that kind of money, especially since the doctors had said he had less than just six months to live if he went under chemo and just two months without chemo. 

My mom had withdrawn him from treatment, saying there was no use and no money after Dad’s health insurance had run out.

“Going already, pretty girl?!” a familiar voice shouted from behind me, causing a wave of shock to pass through me.

I hastened my footsteps, frowning at the realization that he had followed me out of the bar and was now chasing me down an empty street. 

The last thing I wanted was to appear on the local news as a victim of assault.

In a state of panic and my attempts to run away from the creep who did not seem to be backing down anytime soon, my heart started to hurt and my lungs began to close up as I struggled to breathe.

My legs slowed as I clawed at my neck. Before I could pick up my pace again, I was gripped roughly and shoved into an alley. 

I let out muffled screams, thrashing forcefully as I pounded my fists against the man’s chest with one hand and attempted to scratch his face with the other.

“If you act right, you might get a good amount of money from me,” he tried to negotiate, his frustration evident on his face as the hand which wasn’t covering my mouth caressed my body carelessly.

My body jerked in response to the lack of air. In one last attempt to get someone to help me, even when I knew the chances of that were low, I released a muffled scream.

“Shut the fuck up, you little bitch!” the man yelled, taking his hand off my mouth so that he could slap me on the cheek.

I took the opportunity of the man taking his hands off my mouth to pant, taking in as much air as my lungs would allow.

Slowly, I started to lose hope and accept my fate. This man would do whatever he wanted with me and he would leave me here to die without an eye witness to the crime.

I shivered under his rough touch, I could feel his hand roughly fondling me and insistently groping one of my breasts like he was searching for something like a blind man searching for a bullet but this time I think it’s my nipple. 

Relief washed over me, not from his actions, but from the reassurance of my firm padded bra beneath my shirt. It served as a shield against his unwelcome touch. 

Thank heavens, today wasn't one of those days I went bra-free to work. 

He grunted as his mission was unachievable as he resorted to pressing his hard-on against my abdomen, grunting as he rocked against me for his own pleasure.

I could hear how weak I sounded as I tried and failed to fight him off; like I had been dehydrated for weeks.

Before I knew it, a bright light appeared from the entrance of the alley.

“What are you doing?!” I heard someone yell.

The man was violently ripped away from my body, causing me to slide down the wall and crash against the floor.

“She asked for it! She begged me for it!” the man yelled as the person who had caught him kicked him repeatedly as he scampered out of the alley.

“Christ,” I heard the person mumble as I still struggled for air. My eye caught sight of my purse which had fallen a few feet away after I had been dragged into the alley. 

I crawled towards it to get my phone, attempting to call my father for the last time, but I couldn’t reach it.

The person in front of me noticed the purse and my futile attempts as he took the purse and carried me off the floor.

“Let’s get you to a hospital.” For a moment, I struggled against my rescuer’s hold, trying to jump off his arms and just run, but I eventually gave up. 

I was having an attack and he was trying to help. By the time he placed me in the backseat of a car, I fell unconscious.

**********

The next time I came around, I found myself surrounded by the white walls of a hospital room. I sat up and realized that I had an oxygen mask on.

The door to the room opened, and in walked the last person I expected to be there.

David Wilmer stood in the doorway, staring at me with a slightly surprised look on his face.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, finally closing the door and stepping in.

I took the mask off with a confused frown. “What’s going on?”

“I brought you here. You were being assaulted in an alley, and then you had an attack,” he reminded.

I sighed, looking up at the ceiling. Of course, the person who had saved my life had to be the one guy who did everything within his abilities to be ahead of me in my academics, including switching my assignment for the wrong one.

“David Wilmer,” I sighed.

“Just call me Dave,” he corrected.

“Dave.” I nodded, looking everywhere but at his face.

I would never hear the end of it now. 

Knowing Dave, I could predict the different ways he could use this information against me.

“The nurse told me you’re stabilized now, and you can leave as soon as you wake up. 

You don’t have to worry about the bills, by the way. 

I’ll clear them since I brought you here.” I tried to search for the tone of superiority in his voice, something that sounded like he was doing me a favour, but I found nothing. He sounded genuine.

He handed me my purse, his signature cocky smile seeping into his face. “Your passcode was pretty easy to guess. I saved my number on your phone.”

“Did you snoop through my phone?” I questioned with a frown.

“There’s nothing interesting enough about you that I would snoop through, Carmen Cartier,” he shot back as he walked out of the room.

I walked out of the room and towards the exit. I still had to get a refill on my father’s drugs.

As I reached into my purse to get my phone, I stopped in my tracks. A familiar woman was being led towards the hospital from a car. 

She had bruises all over her body, and a man in a suit– whose face I couldn’t see clearly – closed the door of the car.

“Mom?” I voiced as I raced towards her, wondering where my father was and what had happened to her.

“Mom, what happened to you?! Is Dad okay? Where is he?” I rambled, frowning at the red marks and bruises on her body.

“It was an accident. I’m fine,” Mom waved me off with her hand in an attempt to dismiss me.

“You’re not fine. What kind of accident? Where’s Dad?” I questioned, following her and the nurses into the reception office and towards a corridor as I held on to my mother.

“Enough, Carmen!” She violently pulled her arm out of my grip as she glared at me. 

“If you’re so worried about your father, go home and make sure he’s doing fine. He had called me quite a lot and I couldn’t pick up the phone due to the accident.”

At her words, I took my phone out of my purse and gasped. I had twelve missed calls from my father.

I turned around and bolted out of the hospital, flagging down a taxi as I bit my nails in nervousness.

When I got home, I hurried up the stairs as I called out for him. There was no response.

I opened the door to his room and froze in shock at the scene before me – 

There was my father helplessly and was desperately gasping for air on his bed, and standing over him was a strange man I had never seen before with a syringe in his hand, injecting him with God knows what.