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Chapter 48
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2025-12-27 07:13:13
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SEVEN NIGHTS WITH MY STEPFATHER Chapter 149
The photo stared at me like a punch to the gut. Cassian’s arm wrapped around my mother’s shoulder, her head thrown back in laughter, his lips brushing her ear in a way that screamed secrets. The note on the back hit harder: “Do you know their story? Maybe you are just a toy like the others.” I’d shoved it in the drawer three days ago, but it kept clawing back, dragging up questions I’d buried deep. Why did Mom marry him? She’d been fine on her own, raising me with scraped-together jobs and family support. Then Cassian appeared—charming, successful—and everything changed. The family turned their backs. No more summer visits to Aunt Clara’s. No more cousin sleepovers. They called her foolish, said he was poison. Mom fought them with fire, but now, staring at that photo, I wondered if she’d tasted the poison too. .I paced the motel room, the carpet scratching my bare feet, trying to shake the image. But it stuck — vivid, ugly, making my skin crawl. If he’d used her like he used m
SEVEN NIGHTS WITH MY STEPFATHER Chapter 148
IVYI got back to the motel just after eight. The sky was already dark, streetlights buzzing yellow over the cracked parking lot. My feet hurt from standing all shift, and the smell of fried onions from the diner next door clung to my hair. I unlocked the door, kicked off my shoes, and went straight for the tiny kitchenette corner. Cup noodles again. Beef flavor this time. I tore the lid, poured the last of the hot water from the kettle, and set the timer on my phone for three minutes. While it sat there steaming, I leaned against the counter and stared at the peeling wallpaper. Life wasn’t much better now. But at least the thinking had slowed down. Since Cassian walked out that night — after I screamed at him to leave, after I felt him spill inside me one last time and still pushed him away — the constant loop in my head had quieted. Not gone. Never gone. But quieter. The memories didn’t slam into me every five minutes anymore. They came in waves instead of tsunamis. I
SEVEN NIGHTS WITH MY STEPFATHER Chapter 147
IVY The shower was the only place I could think to start. I turned the knob to hot—almost scalding—and stepped under the spray before the water even warmed. The first blast stung my skin like needles. I welcomed it. Let it burn away the sweat, the smell of Cassian, the sticky residue he’d left between my thighs. I wanted to erase him. Scrub him out of my pores. Make my body forget the shape of his hands, the weight of his hips, the way he’d stretched me open and filled me until there was no room for anything else. Soap first. I lathered it between my palms until bubbles dripped down my wrists, then dragged my hands over my collarbone. Down the slope of my breasts. The nipples were still sensitive—puffy, dark from his mouth last night. The moment my fingertips brushed them they tightened into hard points. A sharp, unwanted spark shot straight to my core. I froze. Took a breath. Told myself it was just the hot water. Just nerves. I kept going. Slid the soap lower,
SEVEN NIGHTS WITH MY STEPFATHER Chapter 146
CASSIANThe backyard was quiet except for the low hum of cicadas and the occasional rustle of leaves in the evening breeze. I sat on the old wooden bench Claire liked, the one her father had built years ago when he still pretended to be a family man. The sun had just dropped behind the trees, leaving everything in soft gold and shadow. Claire sat beside me, legs crossed at the ankles, teacup balanced on her knee. She wore a pale blue dress that draped over her growing belly. She looked peaceful. I felt like I was coming apart at the seams.Ivy was still in my head.Every second.Her taste on my tongue from last night. The way her thighs had trembled when I pushed inside her. The broken little cries she made when she came—half pain, half need. The way she’d shoved me away afterward, tears streaming, shouting for me to get out like I was poison. I’d left because she asked. I’d driven straight back here because I had no other place to go. But leaving her there—alone, hurting, hatin
SEVEN NIGHTS WITH MY STEPFATHER Chapter 145
IVY I went back to work the next morning. I had to. If I stayed in that motel room one more day—curled under the blanket, replaying Cassian’s hands on me, his mouth on mine, his cock filling me until I broke—I knew I’d never climb out. The shame was thick, sticky, choking, but letting it win would mean he still owned me. Even from miles away. Even after I’d screamed at him to leave. Even after I’d pushed him out the door with tears streaming down my face. So I showered until my skin stung, dressed in the same black polo and khaki pants, tied my hair back tight, and walked the seven minutes to the store like the night before hadn’t happened. Like my body wasn’t still sore. Like my thighs didn’t still tremble when I remembered how hard I’d come around him. Mr. Chen gave me the usual nod when I walked in. No questions. No pity. Just “morning” and the keys to the stockroom. I took them. Unlocked the door. Started pulling boxes of chips and soda cans off the shelves. The routine w
SEVEN NIGHTS WITH MY STEPFATHER Chapter 144
CASSIANI pushed through the hospital doors with my heart in my throat. The antiseptic smell hit me first—sharp, cold, familiar in the worst way. My boots squeaked on the polished floor as I half-walked, half-ran to the elevator. The ride up was silent except for the soft ding of floors passing. My hands were clenched so tight my nails dug into my palms. Claire. Bleeding. The baby. The words kept looping in my head like a bad song I couldn’t turn off.The doors opened on the maternity ward.Room 412.I didn’t knock.I just walked in.Claire lay in the bed, pale against white sheets, an IV line taped to the back of her hand. The monitor beside her beeped steadily—heart rate, baby’s heartbeat, both strong but too slow for comfort. She looked small. Fragile. Nothing like the woman who’d sat on my lap in the office two days ago, trying to pull me back into something I didn’t want anymore.Her father stood by the window.Arms crossed.Eyes like knives.He turned when I entered.The room
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