Chapter 3: Deep Betrayal

Skylar's POV

How could these two overwhelmingly gorgeous guys possibly be my annoying stepbrothers?

I shook my head furiously. No! It made no sense.

The annoying brats I remembered from five years ago were two scrawny thirteen-year-old boys— one with braces and the other with dumb glasses.

We'd lived together briefly for a month.

Mom had died the previous year and I had been trying to heal. Then, Dad thought I needed some kind of maternal support or maybe he'd just been in love.

Either way, he married their mom, Luna Sheila.

I, on the other hand, had felt deeply betrayed by his moving on so fast. I refused to speak to him. Or to anyone.

Well, until those pawns of the devil came— Myron and Ross. They couldn't care less that I was grieving.

They started trying to bully me.

But I turned the tables against them and showed them I was crazier. From burning their clothes to dumping their books in the trash— I dealt with their asses.

And they couldn't even fight me. They were so weak.

 On rare occasions where they tried to retaliate, Luna Sheila—bless her heart— would always take my side.

And that went on till they left.

So, yeah.

They had been nothing close to this version!

How did they get so hot? So ripped?

"Did you get the pictures, Ross?" The black-haired one asked, breaking the silence.

The blonde guy winked, crossing the room. "Trust me, Myron. Got every second."

No. No, no, no.

"What is—" I trailed off, my breath seizing.

The guy who had had his tongue buried deep inside me a few minutes ago was Myron?

And Ross has taken my pictures?

"You..." My voice broke. "You both set me up?"

Ross laughed. "Sorry, sweetheart. It was just a bet. Who knew our modest sister would fall for it?"

"You can consider it a little payback for everything you did to us in the past," Myron added, winking.

"We figured if we are gonna live together, we'd better settle our old scores first. So, yeah. Now, we're even."

Rage boiled through my blood and my nails itched to scratch them in the face. But I kept my cool.

"Delete the pictures! Now!" I ground out calmly.

"No!" They both echoed, their tone final.

I clenched my jaw hard, my hands curling into a fist. If they wanted it the hard way, I wouldn't hold back either.

I lunged at both of them, throwing a punch at Myron's jaw. But— but I missed. Woefully.

He had ducked swiftly.

I couldn't for the life of me admit defeat to them so I threw another punch at Ross but he caught my fist mid-air and slammed me into the wall.

He towered over me, holding my hands over my head, the heat of his sandalwood scent tantalising my senses mercilessly.

"Let go of me, you fucking psycho!" I spat even as my pulse quickened.

"Showing off your weak combat moves, huh?" He sneered. "It would never work on us, so don't sweat it out."

"If you want us to delete the pictures, you're gonna have to beg."

Of course, barf bags like them would want to see me break.

I knew I could refuse.

Let them leak the video and deal with the fallout. But after today, after everything, I couldn't handle one more humiliation.

The pack already saw me as weak, wolfless, unworthy. A sex tape with my stepbrother would be the final nail in my social coffin.

 No, I couldn't have it flying around.

"Please, delete the pictures," I said with as much calmness as I could muster.

Only then did he release me. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Here's the thing, Skylar." Myron drew my attention.

"Sign us into the volleyball team that'd be going for the inter-pack tournament then we'll delete the pictures."

It took a while for my brain to process his words.

Wait!

Add scumbags like them on the official volleyball team? Hell no!

Coach Henderson has already selected the best players among the school teams to represent the pack at the Capital.

I couldn't betray the trust he had in me.

"You have from today to tomorrow morning to make your decision. Choose wisely." Myron said.

He didn't even let me speak as he strutted out of the room.

"Sign us or we send the pictures to your dad," Ross repeated. "Tommorow, Skylar. Tick tock."

He snorted, walking out after his brother.

Different thoughts competed for attention in my head as the door slammed hard. I didn't know what choice to make.

This wasn't how I planned this night to go. Talk about the worst birthday ever.

The weight of all the emotional whiplash clamped down on my soul, every muscle in my body aching mercilessly.

And I burst into hot tears, collapsing against the couch.

****

I must have cried myself to sleep because the next moment my eyes flicked open, it was bright outside.

My phone read 6:30 am when I switched it on.

Shit! I was almost late for school.

I bolted out of the bar and by the time I got home, I was panting hard. Moving stealthily, I slipped in through the back door.

I didn't want to alert anybody. I wasn't ready to face any of them yet. If possible, I wanted to pack all my belongings and run away.

Like, leave this family drama behind. But then again, I had nowhere else to go.

Jace and Glenda were the only friends I had. And they had tragically stabbed me in the ass.

Halfway through the stairs, I heard laughter coming from the kitchen. It was undoubtedly Myron and Ross's voice.

Then I heard Dad's laughter and Luna Sheila's too.

Such a fucking happy family. I mused spitefully. They probably hadn't even noticed my absence last night. 

And that was when the idea struck me.

They were at the dining table, talking. Which meant I had enough time to sneak into Ross's room and find the camera.

It had to be in his room. He couldn't have taken it to the dining, right?

Yes!

This was my chance.

I reached his room in a jiffy. It was the old one he had used five years ago.

I got to work, starting with the obvious— his dresser drawers, closet, and under the bed. But I couldn't find it.

Then I saw his laptop bag laying in one corner. When I looked closely, I glimpsed the camera.

Bingo.

Hope surged through me as I bent to take it.

"Looking for this?" A voice asked behind me, startling me.

I jerked around only to see Ross leaning against the door, one hand in his pocket and in his other hand was a memory card.

I said nothing as he approached me. Then he was close enough, I sprang at him, taking him off guard.

But to my horror, he effortlessly flipped me over like I weighed nothing. I fell flat on my back on the bed.

His bed!

He tackled me down, his body pressed against mine, solid and warm and way too close.

"Told you your moves are weak." He breathed.

I don't know if it was the closeness that shattered my ego. Or if I was just too tired of whatever sick game they were playing with me.

"Ross, please stop this madness. Just delete the pictures. Please." I begged.

But of course, he lacked the decency to feel my pains.

"Why would I do that?" He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my ears. "We're just getting started, baby."

"What in the world is going on here?" A voice suddenly entered the room.

Dad!

My brain short-circuited.

Holy crap!