On Thin Ice: A Forbidden Step Siblings Affair のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 121 - チャプター 130

Raelynn"This is stupid!" Isabella screeches, pacing back and forth across the sunroom like a caged animal. Her hands claw through her hair repeatedly. "How could he... how could he such a..."She keeps trying to find the right word, her mouth opening and closing as rage renders her speechless."Monster. Psychopath. Asshole," Gray supplies calmly from where he's sprawled in an armchair, looking far too relaxed for someone who just got told he might be disowned.Apart from getting lost in his thoughts for a few minutes and occasionally muttering creative insults about Edward, he doesn't seem surprised or particularly fazed by any of this.Isabella spins to face him, confusion written across her features. "Aren't you surprised? Angry? He just threatened to disown you!"Gray taps his fingers against the armrest in a steady rhythm. "Angry?" He clicks his tongue. "I'm too disgusted for anger." He pauses, then adds casually, "And why would I be surprised about something I already knew?""Al

GraysonThe driver is tied to a support beam in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. His face is already bruised, blood trickling from his split lip, yet he refuses to say a word.I hit him again—not hard enough to knock him unconscious, but hard enough to remind him I'm serious.Crouching to his level, I keep my voice calm. "Speak."The man locks eyes with me, defiance still flickering despite the fear. "I really don't know anything."I nod slowly, then walk back to the car. When I return, I'm holding Edward's gun—the one he keeps in the glove compartment of all his vehicles.Rae gasps behind me. I glance at her, my expression blank, but I let my eyes tell her what my face won't: It's okay. Trust me.She nods, though I can see her hands trembling slightly.I don't look away as I aim at the wall beside the driver's head and pull the trigger.The blank fires with a deafening crack. The man screams, flinching so hard the ropes dig into his wrists."Gray!" Rae's voice is shar

RaelynnA week later."What the hell," Brandon stutters, his face going pale.Yara stares at me in shock, her hand pressed against her mouth. Isabella just watches me with that blank expression she's perfected over the years, impossible to read.I've finally done it. Told them everything. Well, not everything—they don't need to know about Bridget's psychotic tendencies or my biological father's equally disturbing nature. But I've told them about Sarah Morrison, about what happened three years ago, about Charlie.They keep staring at me in silence, and for a moment, I wonder if I've made a terrible mistake. I know I can trust Yara—she's been my rock since I arrived at KAQ. Brandon would do anything for Gray, which means he'd help me too. But Isabella... I wasn't sure about her until Gray vouched for her completely, swearing she could be trusted.I fidget with my hands, the silence stretching too long. Just as I'm about to laugh it off and say it's just a dark joke, Yara stands up from

Chapter 125RaelynnIsaac's head snaps toward me, his face going from pale to red. "What?""Gray. You like him. You're—" I'm fumbling now, trying to articulate what I'm seeing."I'm what?" His voice rises slightly, defensive and confused."You're attached to him. Like, really attached." I'm trying to backtrack but it's coming out all wrong. "The way you talk about him, the way you look at him—""Jesus Christ, Rae." Isaac stands abruptly, running both hands through his hair. "Are you seriously—" He stops, takes a breath. "I'm not gay, if that's what you're implying.""I didn't mean—""Then what did you mean?" He's staring at me now, a mix of embarrassment and frustration on his face. "Because it sounds like you're saying I have some kind of crush on my best friend, which is—" He shakes his head. "That's not what this is.""Then what is it?" I ask gently, because I can see he's genuinely upset now.He's quiet for a long moment, jaw working like he's trying to find the right words."He's

Raelynn "Don't even think about coming closer," I snap when he takes another step forward. He chuckles, the sound echoing through the tunnel like nails on a chalkboard. "Or what?" I scowl at him, forcing steel into my spine. "Raise your shirt." "What? You want a show already?" "You heard me. Raise your shirt. I want to see the scar." His gaze turns even more predatory, but he complies, lifting his shirt slowly. There, across his stomach, is a jagged scar—long and vicious, exactly where I remember plunging the knife three years ago. It's really him. "How did you even survive?" The words slip out before I can stop them. That cut had been deep—deep enough that if he wasn't sending those letters I'd have thought that I'd killed him. "That's what you're focused on?" His voice drops, gaze darkening with something dangerous. "Not an apology? Not remorse for what you did to me?" I can feel the pepper spray in my pocket, my fingers inching toward it. "You should be apologizing," he