REVENGE KISS: FALLING FOR MY BAD BOY STEP BROTHER

CHAPTER 004: Left Alone with Him

~SAFFRON~

I didn't fight it. I couldn't. It's like I'm paralyzed. His lips are surprisingly plush, parting just enough for a rush of cool mint to flood my mouth, cutting through the faint salt of his sweat. The kiss is brief, ending with a soft, wet smack that echoes in my ears, and I’m left clinging to his oversized hockey jersey.

I turn to look at the girl who's approaching us, but she’s already walking away hurriedly, never looking back.

“Why the hell did you do that?” I snap, tasting him on my lips. I have a feeling he dated the Auburn hair girl, or at least they knew each other pretty well.

Jason shrugs, strapping his bag around his shoulder.

I frown at him. He can’t be seen kissing me in public like this. He shouldn’t be kissing me at all.

“Let’s go,” He says, walking away.

I take a deep breath and force myself to walk after him.

On our way back home, I keep dragging my attention from him to the road. When we left the mansion, he had rock songs playing, and now the ride is awfully quiet. Also, he looks angry for God knows what.

“Can you put on some music?” I ask. Jason glances at me scornfully, and I add, “Please.”

“I like it better this way,” he says, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

“It’s awfully quiet.” I say gently.

“Then get another ride,” he says, his tone harsh, eyes on the road. “This is beyond your class anyway.” I frown at him, and he takes a left turn as he continues, “Just be grateful… like your mother.”

What? Where the hell did that come from? Anger flares in my chest, hot. So hot that I clench my hand, my nails digging into my palm as I imagine giving him a hard punch in the face. Not minding if that would make him lose focus and crash the Jeep. But I hold back, biting my tongue, remembering all the times my mom had told me to pick my battles. I suddenly hate him now. “Never speak of my mother. Again,” I say, my voice low and trembling.

Jason chuckles painfully, his eyes flickering on my face quickly. “She’s smart, I’ll give her that. Knew exactly what she had to use to get my dad’s attention.” He sighs and squints at the road, his brows furrowing like he is relishing every word. The car seems to pick up speed, the engine humming louder, or maybe that is just the blood rushing in my ears. “My mother could never. She did try, though. But she never got half of the attention he’s giving your mother.” He stops talking and looks at me, that smug smile twisting on his lips. “Aren’t you such a lucky girl?”

His words slice deeper than I expected, flashing me back to my mom crying over bills, the empty fridge after Dad’s funeral—it all surges up, mixing with the sting of his mockery. My breath comes in short bursts, my chest tightening. I want to scream, to make him feel even a fraction of that pain, but instead, I whisper, “Stop the car.” Quiet at first, testing if he’d listen.

And he increases the speed of the car instead, the scenery blurring outside the window. Like he is daring me.

I glare at him then. "Stop the car!" My voice rises sharper than I intend.

He doesn't slow down. He keeps driving, almost like he's enjoying my outburst. The dashboard lights glow mockingly, and I feel trapped, the seatbelt suddenly too tight across my chest.

"Let me out." Momentary impulse, my hand shoots toward the steering wheel, yanking hard, the wheel resisting under his firm grip.

“Are you out of your mind?” he asks through clenched teeth, but I keep holding on, the jeep swerving slightly. “You will get us killed!” he shouts and pushes me away the second he loses control of the steering wheel. It is surprisingly gentler than I expected. I brush back some of the hair on my face as a result of the push, and as I regret my actions immediately, my eyes become teary. “We’re in the middle of nowhere,” he says.

“Jason, stop the car. f*****g let me out now!” I say, hitting the window, pushing at the door.

“No f*****g way. You can yell all you want. I’m not letting you out.”

I almost burst out crying, regretting following him. "I hate you," I say, wiping away the tears that threaten to fall. I clean my lips angrily as though that will wipe out the memory or the taste of him lingering there.

I fold my arms as I rest my head on the window, avoiding looking at him even though I see him glancing continuously at me from my peripheral vision.

As soon as the Jeep comes to a halt in front of the mansion, I step out quickly, and shut the car’s door with all the strength I can muster, wishing it gets ruined. And then I walk away, only to see my mom and Fred in the big living room, talking. My mom smiles when she sees me. Jason comes in shortly.

“I can see you two are bonding—” I walk away before she can finish. “already,” I hear her say weakly as I climb up the stairs.

“Come here.” That is Fred’s voice. I don’t have to look to know he is talking to Jason.

“Saffron, what happened?” She asks, following me up the stairs.

“Nothing.”

“The look on your face doesn’t say it's nothing.” I don’t reply. “Sweetie, please talk to me.”

“Mom, I want to be left alone. Please” I say as I get closer to my room, and then I hear Jason’s loud voice downstairs.

“Nothing. I did nothing to her.”

I enter my room and shut my door, locking it to prevent my mom from entering. I fall on my bed, adjusting the pillow under my head as I begin sniffing back tears. I miss my dad. I miss my friends, my home. Now I’m stuck with a boy who hates me and my mother for his selfish reasons. Tears come out of my eyes before I can stop them, and I cry quietly, ignoring my mom’s constant knocking and pleas for me to let her in.

I wake up feeling better, having received a comforting phone call from my best friend. I had bashed Jason to Kate. “He’s just a mommy’s boy, taking out his frustration on you rather than his father,” Kate had said on the call. And part of me couldn’t help but wonder about his mom. If she was dead like my dad or far away in another country.

I let my mom into my room later and told her I was just missing home—that everything had become overwhelming—since she was hell-bent on knowing if Jason had said anything bad to me. When she asks about my ride with him, I lie to her again, telling her it was perfect.

And to make everything worse for me, she tells me, “Fred has already started making all the arrangements for your college next week. Jason is a sophomore student there, so you don’t need to worry. I will talk to him and he will make sure you adjust well in college”

I wish she knew he would do the opposite and maybe even worse if I let him. But she’s happy after a long time, and I don’t want to ruin it by complaining. I will deal with Jason myself.

Also, she and Fred are leaving for Paris tomorrow morning. She says they haven’t really gone for their honeymoon.

“Is that okay with you? Going away for a few days?” She asks, searching for answers in my eyes.

“Yes, Mom. Of course. Jason and I are getting along just fine.” I lied.

“I love you, baby,” she says, kissing my face and giving me a comforting hug.

I hug her too, melting into the hug. “I love you too.”

Morning comes too fast. Around 6 a.m., my mother and Fred are already heading to the car with their arms around each other’s waists, their luggage being placed in the car’s trunk by the chauffeur.

“You two are leaving this early?” Jason asks when he approaches us, but I don’t turn to look at him. I can’t seem to look at him after what happened yesterday.

“Yes. We have to catch a flight,” Fred says, and I couldn't help but notice how Jason’s clean, addictive scent wraps around me as he stands close to me. Too close, like he’s gauging my reaction.

“We’ll be going now,” My mom says, her eyes darting between me and Jason.

“We’ll call you both when we arrive,” Fred says, and I nod. “Take care of yourself, Saffron. If there’s anything you need, please feel free to let me know.” A genuine smile spreads across my face, and I nod eagerly to his words. Looking at Jason, he says, “Be good. Look after your sister.”

Being referred to as his sister gives me a sudden ick.

“I’ll take very good care of her,” Jason says, his voice low and almost flirty.

I can no longer fight the urge to look at Jason. So I do. I look at him, and see him gazing at me, his face flashing for a quick second with half regret? I’m not sure, and I don’t care. My eyes wander over his face. His hair is disheveled from sleep, and I hate that I find his morning face even more gorgeous. It’s unfair. How am I supposed to dislike a boy with a face like that?

They drive off from the mansion, my mom and Fred, leaving me with Jason, who looks at me like I am a puzzle he couldn't wait to solve. I shiver with tension, my eyes unwavering from him, already counting down to the days I’d be seeing my mom again. Because me being alone with him ignites something in me I dare not admit.

A few days alone with Jason. What could possibly go wrong?