No More Mr. Nice Guy

"Tyler, what the hell is wrong with you? Jump into the lake and get Carter’s watch right now!

"Seriously, what a country bumpkin! You have zero manners! How dare you throw someone else’s stuff like that!"

Matthew’s angry, familiar roar shattered the air around me.

As the initial shock of my rebirth started to fade, the reality of what I had just done hit me. I looked around, taking in the scene. We were standing in the backyard of our family’s villa.

In my previous life, years of bouncing around foster care had left me terrified, timid, and eager to fold under pressure. So, just to keep my biological parents from hating me, I jumped into that ice-cold lake even though I knew Carter was just trying to mess with me.

I spent hours swimming in the freezing water looking for that watch. By the time I finally crawled back onto dry land, my body was burning up with a lethal fever.

So, what did my parents do?

They didn't even bother leaving behind a single bottle of Tylenol. The entire family just packed their bags and flew off to Miami to cheer Carter up.

Now, Carter was standing right in front of me again.

He was decked out in brand-new designer streetwear with an arrogant smirk on his face and defiance flashing in his eyes.

"Tyler, Mom and Dad gave me that watch for my eighteenth birthday. It’s super expensive. How could you just throw it away like that? Whatever, I'll let it slide. Just dive in and get it back for me, and we'll call it even."

Smug satisfaction flashed in Carter’s eyes, dripping with pure, undisguised contempt.

I was the biological son in this family, but Carter had stolen my place and lived my life for sixteen years. Blood didn't mean anything compared to the sixteen years of memories they shared without me. I was just an intruder, completely shut out from their little world.

"Tyler, are you deaf? Carter is talking to you!"

Matthew rushed over, bringing his hand up to slap me across the face. Before his palm could strike, I shot my hand out and grabbed his wrist.

He froze, stunned.

For the past two years, I had been the family punching bag. I took every hit, absorbed every insult, and never fought back. I had been too terrified to even raise my voice, let alone put up a fight.

Now, my hand clamped around his wrist, holding him so tightly he couldn’t move an inch.

"Let go of me!" Matthew barked, his face turning beet red.

I shoved his arm away and glared at him coldly.

"You want me to jump in to look for his watch? Why don't you make him go get it himself? Did his arms and legs stop working?"

"You were the one who threw it, so of course you're going to get it!" Matthew trembled with rage. "Besides, Carter grew up refined and sheltered. How can you compare him to a wild brute raised in the countryside like you?"

"Oh, really?" I let out a sharp, bitter laugh.

"Last week, he smashed the art project I spent six months building for the national competition. Last month, he tripped me and sent me tumbling down three flights of stairs. And last year, he took the iPad I bought with my own summer job money and gave it away without even asking.

"When he ruined my stuff and physically hurt me, why didn't you force him to apologize or pay me back? Or are you going to use that same tired excuse again? The one where he 'didn't mean to do it'?

“Well, I didn't mean to throw his watch either. So why are you forcing me to jump into a filthy lake to fetch it?"

Matthew choked on his words, his manicured face flushing bright red with frustration.

Seeing the argument slip away, Carter instantly activated his fake, manipulative victim act.

"Dad, I think Tyler is still mad at me. Look, he doesn't have to go get it. Forget it, I'll just take the blame like I always do."

He let out a dramatic, helpless sigh, instantly fanning the flames of my dad's temper.

Matthew whipped around and glared at me furiously. "Look at what you've done! You've upset your brother again!

"What the hell is wrong with you today, Tyler? Throwing his watch and putting your hands on me—you've completely lost your mind!"

Right at that moment, a deep, stern female voice rang out from the back door.

"What’s all this screaming about? I'm on an important conference call in the study, and I can hear you shouting two floors down."