STEPBROTHER (R-18)

Chapter 37

Scarlett's POV

"She was so desperate to have someone... to be fucking owned, it made no difference when they

started hitting her. I shouldn't have been surprised that it wouldn't make a fucking difference when they

started hitting me. But, you know how fucking naive kids are"

He laughs mirthlessly, before he runs a hand down his face.

"She told me not to 'bother' my father with it. He wouldn't understand. He'd be mad at me. He'd be mad

at her. Used the fact she loved him still as a weapon. And kids, we'll do almost anything for our

parents"

"Oh my god, Oliver. I'm so sorry"

You reach for him, despite the way he flinches, resting your hand on his forearm, rubbing gently with

your thumb as if your touch can ease his pain.

"She should've protected you"

"Yeah, well... cant change the past"

"No. I guess you cant..."

You drag a frustrated hand through your hair, as you pull your other hand from his arm, resting it in your

lap. Overwhelmed with the urge to pull him into you arms, you busy your hands, aware that he's on

edge and it's probably not the smartest thing to do right now.

Years and years of pain... no amount of words I say will change that.

"Is this boyfriend, Rick, the one who's been with her the longest?"

Oliver nods, and pulls the car to a stop in front of an unfamiliar house.

Shit we're here. Did Kirk make it yet?

You scan the street, searching for kirks car, unease setting over you as Oliver pulls the keys out of the

ignition.

"Oliver, I-I don't think you should do this"

"He wants to fucking hit helpless women. I'm not going to just sit back and take it. Not anymore. And

my moms not here to stop me this time"

You're unnerved by the frigid look in his eyes. Emotionless. Remorseless. He doesn't care what

happens. Doesn't want to fucking think about it. Just wants to act, as all of these abusive men have in

the past.

Damnit, where the hell is kirk?

You dial him again, watching as Oliver stalks towards the front door.

Oh gos. What the hell should I do? I should stop him. Throw myself in his damn way if I have too.

You hastily move towards the front door, not waiting to knock when you reach it. You twist the knob,

frowning when you hear shouting coming from inside. You push open the door, moving towards the

booming sound of Oliver's voice in what you realise is a kitchen.

Oliver looks pissed.

Your eyes move from Olivers ripped back to the man sitting at the table.

You peer at Oliver with a striking calm as Oliver roars loudly.

"You think it's fucking fun to put your hands on women? She's in the fucking hospital because of you,

Rick!"

You're frozen in your spot at the ferocious tone of Oliver as he sets forward, vengeance lined along the

tense muscles of his back.

"She's not here to fucking stop me anymore, Rick. Let's see you put your hands on me now, asshole. Content © NôvelDrama.Org.

Since you're so big and fucking bad"

"Really, Oliver?"

His condescending, gritty tone adds fuel to the fire. Oliver tilts his head, challenging stepping forward.

"Don't fucking beat your chest at me. Your mother is in the hospital because of her damn self"

This guy wants Oliver to lose control... its almost like he's fucking counting on it.

You will your legs to move, binging you to Oliver's side where you press a gentle hand against his

chest, your fingers drifting over the muscles of his abdomen familiarly.

"Oliver, he is not worth it. Don't let him get in your fucking head"

You make sure to level your gaze on Rick, a look of disgust twisting your expression.

"He's not a man. Men don't hit women and children. He's pathetic, and not worth it"

"Oh, so just another mouth to come to your aid, huh?"

Rick hiccups, as he moves his eyes from you to the glass of brown liquid on the table. He reaches for

it, raising it to his lips, taking a large gulp before groaning satisfied as he swallows. Oliver scoffs, and

goes to move forward. You press your body against his side and shake your head.

Where the fuck is kirk? God, I wont be able to stop them from flighting. All Rick is doing is coxing Oliver

to fucking fight.

You shift your gaze to the doorway, hoping Kirk will come jogging into the damn house soon, but luck

hasn't been on your side in the past, so you doubt it'll come to your aid now.

"Already drinking, Rick?"

"Want some, Ollie? Do you some fucking good. Wont be so uptight like your mother"

He tilts his glass to Oliver, and with one swift movement, Oliver smacks the glass out of Ricks hand.

The murderous tension in the room thickens enough to choke on, as the glass flies and shatters on the

floor.

"I'm fucking done with you and your bullshit. My mom is too"

"Your mother is done with me when I say she is!"

Rick rises, a glare on his face directed at Oliver despite the way Oliver towers over him.

"Now, you and your little whore can get the fuck out of this house. Out of my house! And learn your

fucking place"

Shit, shit, shit.

You know by the shift in Oliver's gaze that Rick has hit a cord. Oliver pushes past your hold, eyes

darkening, frenzied breath coming out of his mouth as he raises his fist and swings. Someone

screams. Blood spattering. A deafening crack fills the room as they begin to fight.

Oh no. God.

"Oliver!"

Kirk obscures your view, a firm expression on his face as he directs you to move.

"Scarlett, go to the car!"

You cant make your legs move. Your limbs remain sill, keeping you locked in the spot you are as you

watch Oliver lose control. With each swing of his arm, his fist connects to Rick's face, the mans eyes

already swelling under the pressure.

He's gonna kill him! Oliver's going to fucking kill him...

You clutch your hands to your chest, jaw tense as you watch Kirk attempt to pull him back to no avail.

Whatever demons have been plaguing Oliver, they unfold there in the room, possessing him

completely.

"No! Oliver?"

You're moving deeper into the room before you have time to arrange your thoughts. Kirk screams at

you but you don't hear him. All you see is Oliver. His anger. It drives your forward, in the midst of the

chaos unfolding in the room.

"Oliver? Stop. Come on. Stop!"

You push yourself between the two, reaching for his arm as he goes to move over Rick's unmoving

body. His eyes are dark, rageful, unfocused as he goes to push past you. You hold back a sob when

you see his face, noting the way his jaw has begun to bruise. Blood specks covering his face, but other

than that, he's managed to avoid Rick's blows.

"Oliver, please, stop. Its okay!"

You reach for him, cupping his face in your hands as you plead to the man you know lingers below the

surface. The one who continually comes to your aid when you're drunk, or cares enough about his

father not to screw up his relationship.

"Don't. He's hurt. Okay? He's hurt. Just stop. I-I don't want you to do something you'll regret. I don't

want you to be him"

You cradle his face, your eyes roaming his to try and get trough to him.

"Oliver..."

You whisper his name softly. The same way you do when you find yourself overthrown with passion.

That same gentle plea of safety his name has become.

"Oliver, please"

"Scarlett"

When he utters your name, you close the distance between you, pressing your lips to his, like you're

the antidote to the poison that is his mother and her abusive boyfriend. He wraps his arms around you,

crushing you to his chest as he kisses you feverishly as if you're the only thing keeping him from

drowning.

Oh god... I just want him to not be in so much pain. So much fucking disappointment. I want him to

forget.

You break away from Oliver when you hear Kirk calling to you.

"Get him out of here, Scarlett. I'll take care of this"

"Oliver, lets go"

He's reluctant to move, but with a few gentle tugs on his arm, he follows, leaving kirk behind who

begins lowering himself to the ground to assess just how badly Oliver's beaten up Rick.

"Let me drive"

You hold out your hand for his keys, unwilling to argue with him about it, but surprisingly he doesn't put

up a fight as he lowers them into your palm. You both move towards the car wordlessly, climbing in

quick and closing the doors before something else sets him off and he loses control again.