Feuds and Reckless Fury by K. Webster

 

Alister

Iwake to yapping downstairs, which means Ginger and Nutmeg are up, begging to go outside. Knowing Dad and Ryan are probably up too has me tensing in bed. I’m pinned beneath a completely naked Canyon. Since I don’t hear footsteps or voices yet, I take a moment to enjoy the feel of him pressed against me.

My ass is sore as fuck, but I don’t even care.

Last night was amazing.

I’ve never felt so completely owned by another person. That’s exactly what Canyon does. He owns me. Hate was a familiar emotion between the two of us, but somewhere along the way, it transformed into a burning, passionate need for the other.

Which sucks.

It really fucking sucks.

Not because I don’t want to be with Canyon one hundred percent, but because I can’t be with Canyon. Not all the way. Only in secret and in stolen moments. Our dads are getting married soon, which means we’ll be family.

I stroke my fingers through Canyon’s dark hair and kiss the top of his head as I listen to the rain still pattering outside. I’m glad today’s track meet is canceled—not that we would’ve gone anyway after what happened to Aimee—but at least we’re not missing anything now.

If I could lock us away in this bedroom forever, that’d be okay with me. I’ve spent my entire life trying to belong and wanting someone to keep me—to love me. Canyon gives me hope. That he’ll want to hold onto me and not let go. Give me a home that’s not fleeting or brittle. Instead, something permanent and secure. Something to keep me rooted where I am.

Lips press to my chest, signaling that he’s awake. His kisses are gentle and adoring as he slowly ventures down my abs. I groan when he reaches my dick. Blue eyes lock onto mine as he takes hold of my morning wood. With a crooked grin that sets my skin on fire, he licks at the piercing on the tip of my cock. I shudder at the pure, blissful sensation of it.

God, he’s so fucking hot.

Even with bags under his eyes and hair sticking in all directions. Even with the scruff on his cheeks darker and thicker since he needs a shave.

“Are you sore?” he asks, his hot breath tickling my dick.

“Yeah,” I croak out.

“Good. Means you’ll think about me all day.” He winks at me before swallowing my cock past his lips and down his throat.

I grip his hair, thrusting my hips up, eagerly fucking his mouth. “I already do.”

It doesn’t take long before I’m losing control with a ragged moan of his name. He noisily gulps down my release like he’s thirsty for it. I’m ready to return the favor when I hear voices.

Fuck.

Canyon crawls up my naked body, pressing a quick kiss to my lips, then climbs off the bed, scooping up his boxers along the way. He pulls them on and leaves my bedroom without another word. His bedroom door clicks shut. I slip out of bed, wincing at the soreness in my ass, and yank on my own underwear just as Dad appears in my doorway. My heart hammers wildly in my chest, and I wonder if he can see it written all over my face.

That Canyon fucked me last night.

That I slept with his soon-to-be stepson.

Heat floods through me, burning at my neck and cheeks as I stammer out a greeting.

“Morning, Dad,” I grunt out.

“Morning.” He smiles at me, his curious gaze taking in the state of my room. “Having trouble getting up and at ’em today?”

I follow his stare to my bed that’s wrecked. The bottle of lube peeks out from beneath one of my pillows, and there’s a discarded towel on the floor from where Canyon cleaned us up after we had sex last night. It’s obvious to me that two people had slept in the bed, but thankfully, Dad doesn’t seem to notice it right off.

“Of all the years you’ve lived with me, I’ve never seen your room like this.” He grins at me in a teasing manner, but all it does is turn my stomach inside out.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. I’ll get it cleaned up.”

“No,” he says with a chuckle. “I wasn’t criticizing you. It’s nice to see you relax for once.”

Another burst of heat flames over my skin.

“Ryan is going to take Carrie and Canyon up to the hospital to see their mom. I told him you, and I would spend the morning together. It’s a birthday tradition.” He smirks at me. “Eighteen. Oh, to be young and carefree again.”

Uneasiness twists my gut. He doesn’t seem like he’s ready to kick me out. Would he be so happy, though, had he walked in on Canyon blowing me?

Hell no.

I can’t even begin to imagine the look on his face.

Horrified. Disgusted. Furious.

“Let me grab a shower, and then I’ll be down,” I say to him, clearing my throat. “Breakfast sounds good, Dad.”

“Happy birthday, kiddo. See you in a bit.”

As soon as he’s gone, I race into the shower, eager to wash off the evidence of my wrongdoing. I wonder if Dad could smell the sex in the air—a mixture of my own scent plus Canyon’s expensive, manly cologne and unique musk. To me, it’s so obvious.

We have to be more careful.

I can’t stop, though.

Not when being with Canyon feels so fucking good.

Quickly, I dry off and dress in a nice white polo I know Dad likes, along with my newest pair of jeans. After fixing my hair and throwing on my Vans, I spend a few moments tidying up my room. Once it’s orderly and not so obvious I had a nighttime guest, I breathe out a sigh of relief.

Strong arms wrap around me from behind, and I yelp in surprise. Canyon’s nose runs along the side of my neck, inhaling me as if I’m the best thing he’s ever smelled. I turn my head, meeting his mouth with mine, eagerly kissing him now that we’ve both brushed our teeth. The kiss starts off sweet, but soon he’s twisting me around so he can better access me. His large hand clutches the front of my throat, staking a claim as he devours me. His dominating kiss has me melting, forgetting all resolve to be more careful. And, here we are, kissing with the damn door open.

I pull back, panting, my eyes drifting toward the doorway. His lips curl into a wolfish grin that promises really bad behavior. Damn if my heart doesn’t stutter all over itself.

“Living under the same roof as you is proving to be quite difficult,” I grumble, adjusting my once-again hard dick in my jeans.

“Very hard indeed,” he agrees, glancing down at my cock before his grin kicks up even wider.

I flip him off, earning a chuckle.

“I got you a birthday present. Stay here.”

My eyes are glued to his ass in his jeans as he exits my room. Seconds later, he returns with a rolled-up tube and a small gift sack. I’m slightly giddy over the fact my boyfriend got me a birthday present.

Boyfriend.

Mine.

He may be a secret boyfriend, but he’s still mine.

I take the tube from him and unroll the paper. It’s a giant poster. Of Daisuke and Chibi. One where they’re kissing. We’ve been watching the episodes together, but we haven’t made it to the part where they fall for each other. Seeing their lips pressed together in a passionate kiss, hands clutching at the other so desperately, makes my heart squeeze.

“You like it?” His voice is a deep rumble that vibrates all the way through my nerve endings. “I thought it’d make your room feel more like home.”

I freeze at his words. This is more than just a poster of the show we’ve been watching. It’s an effort to root me into this life I feel I could be plucked from at any moment.

“Canyon,” I rasp out, my throat tight with an emotion I can’t quite put my finger on. “That was—”

“Wonderful, Wonderland.” He lifts his chin in a cocky, smug fashion that has me rolling my eyes. “Here. Open this.”

I roll the poster back up, setting it on my bed, and then take the sack from him. After pulling out the tissue, I retrieve a picture frame. It’s one our dads took after a meet. Canyon’s arm is slung over my shoulders. He’s grinning like an arrogant prick since he beat my time. To anyone else, it’d seem like friendly picture of two teammates.

To me, it’s a framed picture of my boyfriend and me.

I can proudly display it in my room, and no one will be wiser.

“You can set it up on the end table beside the lube. Give you something to look at while you whack off.”

I toss it on the bed, arching a brow up. “Isn’t that what you’re for? I’ll never have to jerk off when I have you to do it for me.”

He steps forward until we’re nearly touching. I have to tilt my head back to look into his electric sapphire eyes as he towers over me. Sometimes, looking at him feels like a dream. Too perfect to be real. His hands grip my ass, squeezing. The tenderness inside of my ass reminds me he’s real all right—real and mine.

“You’re not going anywhere. You do realize that, right?”

When he says it, I want to believe it.

“I sure as hell don’t want to,” I admit. “Thank you for my gifts.”

“When we get back later, we’ll watch the episode where Daisuke realizes he thinks Chibi is hot.” His playful expression fades as reality seems to punch him in the gut, and he swallows hard. “I’m afraid…”

To go to the hospital.

To see her.

I hug him tight. “I know. It’s going to be okay. She’s getting help.”

“I hope so.” His voice cracks. “Jesus, I fucking hope so.”

“I know so.”

“Something’s wrong,” Dad says from the table as I load dirty plates into the dishwasher. “You’re quiet.”

Am I that obvious?

“Just worried about Canyon,” I admit with a sigh. “Carrie too.”

He stands and walks over to me. “You’ve gotten really close with him lately. I must say, Ryan and I are pleasantly surprised. I mean, all those years that neither of you showed any interest in getting to know the other. The fact that we’re getting married and you’re both putting in such an effort means a lot to us.”

I chew on my bottom lip, unable to shake the bout of nerves rattling through me. One of the plates slips from my grip and bangs loudly against the edge of the sink.

“It’s nothing,” I mutter.

“It is to me, Alis.” He clutches my shoulder and gives it a loving squeeze. “I always wanted to give you a complete family.”

Ugh.

Sometimes reality is a bitch.

This is a cold, hard reminder of exactly why Canyon and I need to remain a secret. Because if our dads find out…fuck. It’ll be so bad.

“When did you know you were in love with Ryan?” I ask, still unable to meet his gaze.

He chuckles. “God. Probably when you were ten years old.”

When I came to live with him. Those times were so…fucked up. So damn terrifying. All I wanted was my mom, but she didn’t want me. She wanted booze, and whatever boyfriend was hanging around at the time.

I’d stupidly believed that our move to Florida was a turning point. Turns out, she just wanted a babysitter. Someone to pawn her son off on. She didn’t want to save me from Colin; she wanted to piss him off.

“It was that first month when you came to stay. Tammy…” Dad lets out a heavy sigh. “My sister screwed up. You know that, right? It was her loss. You were her loss.” He grabs my shoulders, turning me to face him. “Taking you in was the best thing I’d ever done. Still is. I love you more than words can describe.”

Hot tears sting my eyes. I cast my gaze to the front of his chest so I don’t have to see his pitying look.

“You were so sullen,” he whispers. “Withdrawn. Jumpy. You felt abandoned.”

She left me.

She dropped me off on her brother’s doorstep and left me.

A tear leaks out, streaking down my cheek. I don’t bother wiping it away. Why? Why did she drag me away from my school and teachers and friends and Colin just to drop me off with an uncle I’d never met and didn’t know?

“Every time the house made a noise, you’d cry.” Dad’s voice grows hoarse. “You’d tremble so badly, Alis. It broke my fucking heart.”

“I hate mice,” I offer lamely.

“I know, kid. I know. And I wanted to help you. I just didn’t know how. What the hell did I know about raising children?”

I remember those early days. I was so lost and afraid. Confused. I’d felt more unloved than ever before. But, for the first time, no one physically hurt me. I tried not to grow attached to “Uncle Quinn,” but then it got too hard. Especially after the accident. Mom eventually came back but inside an urn. I never got to say goodbye. Never got to ask any questions. I was just someone else’s problem. The boy dropped off on Mom’s brother’s doorstep, no longer someone for her to worry about.

Another tear slips down my cheek, and I sniffle.

“God, Alis, you break my heart,” Dad croaks, pulling me to him for a hug. “You did then, too. All I wanted was to be the parent you never had. I needed help, and Ryan had a son your age. I’d always loved Ryan as my best friend. I thought if I loved him hard enough, he’d turn gay for me.” He laughs, but it’s sad. “I had delusions that we could be a family. Parent our boys together, and they’d be best friends too.”

Canyon barely looked up from his phone anytime they came to visit, much less hang out with me. Carrie was always too focused on her dolls to want to play.

“He’d bring the kids over, sit with me in the kitchen, and let me cry on his shoulder.”

“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I was a burden—”

“Ridiculous,” Dad growls. “You were mine. The second she showed up, I took one look at you and knew you were mine.”

My chest aches. I’m doing him so fucking wrong by being with Canyon.

“But you asked how I knew. It was one night when I admitted to Ryan I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. He squeezed my hand and said he didn’t know what the hell he was doing either. He told me that was how parenthood worked.” Dad pulls away and smiles at me. “I harbored my secret crush for him for a long time.”

“How long did he cheat on Aimee for?”

He lets out a heavy sigh. “It’s not like you think. Last spring when I took that business trip?”

“Yeah?”

“I took it with Ryan. It was the first time we…explored our feelings. Feelings I’d learned were mutual and not my imagination. He’d already been expressing his unhappiness with his marriage for months. Hell, I was the one who encouraged him to keep working at it.”

I know the rest. He came back from that trip, and suddenly he was helping Ryan move his things into an apartment because he’d left his wife. It wasn’t long after that, Dad told me they were dating. Months later, they were engaged.

“I don’t know that Canyon will ever forgive Ryan for that,” I say with a sad sigh. “He feels like his dad destroyed their family.”

“I hope with time he will.” Dad smiles at me. “It helps that you’re bridging this transition by being there for those kids. I’m proud of you, Alis. So fucking proud.”

The guilt is nauseating. If he knew we had sex last night and fool around every chance we get, I bet his pride would fly right out the window. Then what? He adopted me, and when I asked if I could call him Dad instead of Uncle Quinn, he teared up, nodding with the biggest smile on his face. If he found out, would I still be his son? Would I be his nephew? Would I be…anything?

The doorbell rings, startling us both. I’m thankful for the break in the heavy conversation. Ginger and Nutmeg yap excitedly at our new visitor. I stride out of the kitchen and to the front door. When I open it, no one’s there. The rain is still falling but not hard. I peek out but don’t see anyone. The dogs are trying to escape, and they’ll track mud all over the house if they do, so I pull the door closed behind me. It’s then I see the large, wet footprints.

“Leon? Is that you?”

A flash of movement from the side of the house charges at me. I realize it’s the same guy who tried to beat the shit out of me the other day and who admitted to paying someone to hit me with their car. Turning, I start to run back inside, but he tackles me hard on the porch steps. I cry out as pain splinters through my still-sore ribs. The guy flips me onto my back and rears back his fist. He’s going to punch me.

No.

He’s got a fucking knife.

All I can do is stare in horror. Everything is in slow motion. The snarl on his lips. Downward movement as he drives the knife toward me. Dad’s yell as he exits the house. Cool rain soaking through my jeans and shoes that are exposed to the elements.

And the echoing crack.

So loud.

At first, I think it’s thunder.

Something splatters on me. Rain? I close my eyes as the guy lands on me heavily, knocking the breath out of me. Warmth floods over my chest, soaking through my shirt.

“Oh my fucking God,” Dad bellows. “Alis!”

He shoves the man off me before yanking me into his arms. I’m frozen in shock. Confused about what’s happened. Why is the rain warm and sticky?

“Are you hurt? My God, Alister, are you hurt? Talk to me, son!”

“Dad,” I croak out. “Dad.”

“Tell me what hurts.” He scrambles for his phone in his pocket while still holding me. “It’s okay. You’re okay, but we need to get back into the house.”

My gaze falls to the lump beside us. The man is completely still and bleeding from a massive hole in his neck.

“You shot him?” I ask, trying to make sense of what happened.

Dad shakes his head as he blurts into the phone. “Someone’s been shot on my porch. Please send help. I don’t know where the shooter is.”

Shooter?

The shock fades as Dad practically drags me into the house and out of the line of fire. What the fuck is happening right now?

“Canyon,” I whimper.

“They’ll come home soon. Don’t worry. The police are on the way. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Will it?

Because nothing feels okay right now.

Nothing.