“Oh, my god, I’msosorry! I didn’t see you there.”
Obviously.
Seeing her up closeshouldbe met with loathing. After all, she’s the reason behind my arrest. She took me from my home and friends to save her douche of a fuckhead before then moving into my life. She got everything, while I was left with a meager allowance and instructed to get a job on top of completing community service because the amount in my account would be all the financial support from my father.
What I can’t and will not forgive is being away fromher.
Oakley Rivers, my stepsister.
After only six months of dating, my father proposed to her mother, leading into the marriage they’ve had going for a bit over three years now. When he did, Oakley moved in as his stepdaughter.
And my newest obsession.
It’s not hate I feel towards her. Never has been either. It’s fucking awe.
She’s always been beautiful, and there wasn’t a day that passed where she hasn’t been in my thoughts. But the occasional picture that friends, mainly Blaze and Cody, managed to send my way hasn’t done her justice.
Back in high school, she practically starved herself to stay skinny because everyone in her life judged her natural curves. Curves that made my mouth water. Watching her lose them—and later realizing why—angered me like nothing else. Her mother imprinted this stupid notion that beauty meant being thin as a rail, and Dad expected nothing else than perfection at the social events he dragged his family—sans me—to. So she starved herself to fit in the tiny ass dresses her mother would buy, even though theyclearlywouldn’t fit anything but a sheet of paper.
Then there was the time I bought her an order of fries from the school cafeteria, because the fact I hadn’t seen her eat in two days worried me and who doesn’t like fries? Dropped them off at her table and wandered away, only to overhear her dick of a boyfriend comment on the choice of food when he later joined her.
Wonder if he ever admitted the black eye he got that night came from my fist.
Now, much to my pleasure, she’s regained the weight and got comfortable in her skin. She’shealthy, and there isn’t anything sexier than that. Her figure’s filled out into all curves I can’t wait to run my hands over.
And I will. It’s only a matter of time.
Dark hair frames her face with caramel strands woven in—those are new. There’s a small splatter of freckles over her nose, for once in their lives not caked with makeup, which I’m pleased by.
As quickly as I take Oakley in, she continues passing me, not even bothering to glance at the stranger she’s walked into.Her head remains bent over her phone, eyes—a captivating hazel—averted as she mumbles another apology and skitters away, walking faster than earlier.
Well. That was disappointing.
I stand and stomp out the smoke, tossing the butt into the nearby garbage. When she’s about a dozen feet away, she lifts her head, only to toss a quick glance over her shoulder before walking faster.
Right. Because standing has her assuming I, a stranger in the shadowy park, will follow her. Which I will be. Either way, the start of a smirk tugs at my mouth because little Oakley is running scared.
Good ol’ times.
She always acted frightened around me. Other than the rare family-mandated events our parents forced us to both participate in, we barely saw one another. Dad basically kicked me out of the family at that point, and more often than not, it seemed like Oakley wanted nothing to do with them either. She did everything in her power to hang at friends’ places or her boyfriend’s, while I hid at a buddy’s to avoid crossing paths with my new stepsister after Dad threatened me to stay away from her.
Even if I didn’t really listen to him.
I fall back, letting the shadows swallow me up when she reaches the edge of the park and crosses the street. She’s heading into the nearby neighbourhood, to the house she lives in, courtesy of my father’s generosity. A house, that for all intents and purposes, was meant to be mine—or at least both of ours when Dad married her mother—which means the spare bedroom I’m well aware it has is waiting for me to move in.
Soon. It’ll be nice to get off Blaze’s couch.
Knowing the town well enough—a benefit of growing up here—I slip down a bike path that connects the two roads together:a shortcut. She’s sticking to the main roads with streetlights, keeping it safe.
Halloween shit decorates the front lawns of the houses I pass. Lit-up pumpkins on the front steps, fake webbing covering the grass, rickety signs, and plastic gravestones stabbed into the ground. This little suburbia is screaming its readiness for my favourite holiday.
I love Halloween because it’s the time where it’s expected to stay out in the dark. Where trying to trick and scare another is the norm.
This Halloween, it’s Oakley’s fear I crave. All those instances in the past where she’d stare at me like a spooked bunny, all tense and shit, ready to bolt and hidethrilledme. Her nerves were cute in an amusing way.
By tomorrow morning, I anticipate she’ll wake nervous with the official announcement of my arrival back into town. She’ll understand I’m here for her. To continue our game, to punish her for her actions…and to finally take what I’ve been craving for so long.
Trick or treat, Trickster.Choose wisely.
