Bullied by my Stepbrother のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 51 - チャプター 60

The car ride was silent. Heavy. The kind of quiet that presses against your eardrums until they ache. My fingers twisted in my lap with my nails biting into my palms.What kind of punishment was waiting for me at home?Noah pulled into the driveway then the engine cut with a finality that made my stomach drop.“Get out. And stand.”I obeyed without a word.He parked, then strode past me toward the house, his broad shoulders tense beneath his shirt.“Move.”I followed, climbing the stairs on numb legs. The house was empty, as usual. Just us. Just this. As I turned toward my room—“My room.”I froze. Swallowed. Then pivoted toward his door.The scent of his cologne wrapped around me as I stepped inside. His room was clean as usual. The bed was neatly made, as if he’d planned this. He shut the door behind us with a quiet click.“Drop your backpack.”It thudded to the floor.Noah crossed to his closet, and my breath hitched as he pulled out a sleek black case. When he opened it, cold met

The first thing I noticed was the weight of Noah’s arm draped over my waist and his warm breath against the back of my neck. The second thing? The clock on his nightstand glowed 3:17 AM in blood-red digits.Perfect.I held my breath as I lifted his arm away from me slowly and slid out from under the sheets. The mattress creaked and Noah stirred. I froze, my pulse hammering in my throat until his breathing evened out again.Clothes first. My top was crumpled on the floor where I’d tossed it hours ago. I got dressed quickly.The bedside drawer yielded nothing but condoms and a switchblade. Classic Noah. His desk was next—neat, controlled, just like him. Laptop closed. Notes stacked with military precision. No phone.Then a glint of light caught my eye on glass atop his closet. There. I climbed onto his chair with my bare feet sinking into the leather, and stretched. My fingertips brushed cool metal. Got it. The phone was ice-cold in my palm, like it had been waiting for me.Now for th

I stared at him, words clotting in my throat.The realization hit like a sucker punch—he’d been protecting me. It made no sense. This was the same boy who’d made my life hell, who’d smirked while I cried.“Why?”He swallowed hard, then dropped his hand.“I don’t know Rosalie, I can’t help it.”“But you bullied me…”“That was in the beginning…” He turned away, raking his fingers through his hair.“It’s fucked up, I’m fucked up.”Then my eyes squinted. I can’t believe him. The memory of how he deceived me to take those pictures flooded my mind.“I can’t believe you. Is this another of your plans? To make me vulnerable so you can take something else to manipulate me?”“Manipulate you? I’m not manipulating you.”“That’s what I thought till you took those pictures of me. Why did you take them then? Wasn’t it to bend me to your will?“His Adam apple bobbed down again.“I took them…” he swallows again.“I took them became I needed them”“To do what?”“What do guys use girls' naked pictures

Noah steered me toward the girls' bathroom with his grip like iron around my wrist. The hallway buzzed with laughter and whispers that crawled under my skin. Then the principal's voice crackled through the speakers,"Noah Blackwood, please report to the office immediately. I repeat, Noah Blackwood to the office now."His head snapped up with confusion flashing across his face. Every eye in the hallway locked onto him."What do they want you for?" I whispered."No clue. Come with me."I obeyed.We rounded the corner—and froze.Two police officers stood outside the principal's office. My stomach dropped. Oh god. Did they finally catch him? Is this an arrest?One officer gestured Noah inside and followed him in. The door clicked shut.The warning bell screeched overhead. Fuck. I needed to get to class, but I had to know what was happening.Five minutes passed. Then ten. The door stayed closed.Shit. I have to get to class.I sprinted to class, sliding into my seat just as the teacher

Noah rubbed his forehead again, then glanced at the beer cans littered across the ground near his mother’s grave.“Leave them,” I said. “Someone else will pick them up.”“I …” he murmured.I placed a hand on his arm. “It’s okay. I’m not mad.”He looked at me with disdain in his eyes. “You should be. I’m not good for you.”“You aren’t,” I said, smiling. “But I don’t care.”“Why? I don’t understand,” he said.But I don’t know the answer to that question either. All I know is that I’m looking at a boy who’s not ready for the world he created, a boy who can’t face his own sins. A boy whose youth was taken from him too soon, whether by force or by choice. Even if the thing brewing between us is so wrong, I couldn’t help it. He’s just a boy in need of a girl to help him out.“You’re not the only one with secrets,” I muttered. “I guess we’re all bad guys in our own story. And… I’m sorry I talked about your mom.”“I get it.” He nodded a few times. “I’m sorry about everything. The pictures,