My Stepbrother: Rivals On Thin Ice (MxM)

Chapter 1.

Brent’s POV

You might think my story goes like every other stepbrother hate-to-love type of shit, but trust me when I say it’s completely different from what you might’ve seen before. For you to understand this story, I’d like you to know why this hatred between two brothers actually runs so deep.

……..

My life was no different from every other picture-perfect family where the dad goes to work and returns back home to the wife in the kitchen whipping up dinner while their kid runs round the house. It had always been like this till the ugly truth had to come out.

Dad had an affair outside, and it was with no other than mom’s best friend, Alicia.

I was little when it all cracked open. Mom, Keke, had been the kind of woman who filled every room she walked into. She hummed while she cooked. She laughed too loud at dad’s dumb jokes. She made the house feel warm even on the coldest nights.

Then one evening she found the messages.

I still remember the way her hands shook when she held the phone out to him in the living room. Alicia’s name sat right there on the screen like it belonged there.

Apparently, the affair had started a year before I was even born. Maddox was already walking by the time I came along. Dad had been sleeping with his wife’s best friend the whole time, and somehow he still looked surprised when the truth landed.

Alicia didn’t stay quiet for long after that. She moved in. Just packed her bags and her son and walked through our front door like she had every right. Michael, my father, didn’t stop her. He stood there with that same empty expression he always wore when things got hard and let it happen.

They took over everything.

Alicia started rearranging the kitchen the first week. She threw out mom’s favorite mugs and replaced them with ones she liked better. She moved into the guest room at first, then somehow ended up in the master bedroom whenever dad worked late.

Maddox claimed the bigger half of my playroom without asking. He was older by a year, louder, already used to getting what he wanted. Whenever I complained, dad just told me to share.

Mom tried. God, she tried so hard. She kept cooking the same meals. She kept folding laundry like nothing had changed. But the house stopped feeling like hers. Alicia would make little comments under her breath about how tired mom looked, how maybe she should rest more, how the stress wasn’t good for anyone. Then she’d smile at dad like they shared a private joke.

The fights started out small eventually. Raised voices behind closed doors. Then they got louder.

One night I woke up to screaming. I crept downstairs and sat on the bottom step like I always did when the adults forgot I existed. Mom was crying while Alicia was yelling something about how she deserved to be happy too. Dad just stood between them saying nothing useful.

It went on for months. Every day felt like walking on glass. Maddox and I fought constantly. Childish stuff at first. Who got the last cookie. Who controlled the TV remote. Then it turned meaner.

He’d push me into the wall when no one was looking. I’d break his toys when he left them out. We never needed a reason. The hatred was already there, baked into the air we breathed.

The worst day came on a Tuesday. I was eight.

School had let out early and I came home to find the two women in the kitchen again. Alicia had her arms crossed and mom’s face was red and wet. They were arguing about money this time, about how Alicia had been taking cash from dad’s wallet. Words and accusations flew. Then Alicia shoved her.

Mom stumbled backward and hit the edge of the counter hard. She grabbed her chest. Her eyes went wide like she couldn’t breathe. I remember the sound she made. Small. Confused. Then she dropped.

I ran to her. I screamed for dad. He came running from the study but it was already too late. Mom’s body jerked once on the floor and then went still.

The ambulance took forever. The paramedics worked on her right there in front of me while Alicia stood off to the side with her hand over her mouth like she was the one who needed comfort.

Mom died of a heart attack in our kitchen with her son watching and her husband’s mistress still in the room.

After that everything went quiet in a different way.

Dad barely spoke. Alicia stayed. She cried at the funeral like she had any right to. Maddox and I stopped pretending to get along at all. We fought over everything. Space. Attention. The last bit of hot water in the shower. One time he locked me out of the house during a storm just because he could.

Another time I poured paint all over his new sneakers. Dad never stepped in. He just looked tired and told us both to grow up.

Years passed like that. Slow and bitter. Then one morning Alicia was gone. She’d cleaned out a good chunk of dad’s accounts and vanished overnight.

Left a short note saying she couldn’t do it anymore. Maddox was fifteen by then. Dad didn’t even try to keep him. An aunt on Alicia’s side showed up a week later and took him away. Just like that.

They came into our home, took over my life, destroyed it, and then disappeared like nothing ever happened.

Dad and I were left alone in a house that still smelled like other people. Our relationship never recovered. We lived in the same building but barely spoke. He’d ask about school. I’d give one-word answers. Meals happened in silence. Sometimes I’d catch him staring at old photos of mom and wonder if he even remembered what he’d done. I stopped caring after a while. Bitter fun, really. The great Victor Lennox, successful businessman, couldn’t even keep his own house from falling apart. Funny how that works.

Hockey became the only thing that made sense. I threw myself into it completely. Early mornings on the ice. Late nights studying plays. The rink didn’t ask questions. It didn’t care about dead mothers or missing stepmothers or brothers who vanished. On the ice I was just Brent. Captain material. Someone who could win. I rebuilt myself around that. Brick by brick. Shift by shift. Until the idea of anything else touching that part of my life felt impossible.

But little did I know that someone was about to come and snatch the same life I’d been trying to rebuild again.

It started with a rumor at practice. Someone mentioned the Black Eagles had a new captain this season. Aggressive style. Already stirring up shit in the league. I didn’t pay it much attention at first.

Rival teams came and went. Then my phone lit up with a text from one of the guys on the team.

You seeing this?

Attached was a photo from the university sports page. Maddox Lennox. Captain of the Black Eagles. Same sharp jaw. Same cocky half-smile. Older now, broader in the shoulders, but still unmistakably him. The boy who used to lock me out of my own house was back in town and wearing the opposite colors.

I didn’t sleep that night. Just sat on the edge of my bed staring at the screen until the battery died. Sixteen years of buried shit rose up all at once. The kitchen floor. Mom’s face. The way Alicia used to look at me like I was in the way. All of it.

Two days later the knock came at the front door of the house I’d been trying to make mine again.

I opened it.

Maddox stood there like no time had passed. He was in a leather jacket. Hands in his pockets. That same look in his eyes that said he already owned whatever room he walked into.

“Hey bro,” he said, and patted me on the shoulder like we were friends. Then he walked past me into the house without waiting for an invitation. Right before he fully passed, he leaned in just enough that only I could hear.

“Your life might be taken from you again, baby bro.”

And just like that, everything I’d built started cracking.

(I’d love to thank every reader that is about to begin this lovely journey with me. Buckle your seat belts, cause we’s about to go for a long ride!)