Page 112 of Naughty November
Me: It can’t wait.
My phone rang, and I hit Answer. Kieran’s face came on the screen. He didn’t wear the dark blue T-shirt he had during dinner. In fact, he didn’t wear a shirt at all. His bare chest had red marks on it.
The screen blurred, and a sob tore from me.
“Iggy, what’s wrong?” He hopped off the bed he’d been lounging on.
“But what about?—”
“Shush,” he said to the girl in the background. “Iggy, what is it?”
“I’m sor-ry.”
“Sorry for what? Iggy, what did you do?”
“You’re going to be mad at me.”
“I won’t. I swear. Just tell me.”
“Stepdad saw the magazine.”
“What?”
“I didn’t mean for him to see it.”
“What the fuck, Iggy? I told you not to touch that.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
He heaved a sigh. “I’m on my way. This shit’s not going to be pretty.”
He wasn’t kidding.
Half an hour later, I sat on top of the stairs, listening to the row between him and Stepdad. It was the worst fight they’d ever had since I came to live with them two years ago.
“Is this what I’ve been sending you to college for?” Stepdad was screaming at the top of his lungs.
“I told you I didn’t want to go.”
“And I said you didn’t have to as long as you had a plan. Is this your plan? To fuck your way through college? Where is your decency?”
“I made good money from that shoot.”
Flesh connected with flesh, and I gasped, clenching my hands into fists. I wished I could cover my ears to block out the sound, but it was too late. Ma had boxed my ears many times, but she’d never slapped me before. How could Stepdad physically hurt Kieran?
This was all my fault.
“Don’t put your hands on me ever again, old man.”
“You brought it on yourself. Are you going to stop doing this filth?”
“As a matter of fact, I just signed a contract for a year to be their new fuckboy. Did you think I was going to ask your permission?”
“Get out! Get the fuck out of my house. You’ve not only defiled yourself but also your little brother.”
It’s not his fault. I was the one who wanted to look at it.
“I hid it, all right? I had no intention of letting him find the magazine, but that’s not really what bothers you, is it?” Kieran’s bitter laugh drifted upstairs. “You’re a hypocrite. What about your dirty magazines I found in the garage when I was fourteen? You’re only mad because it’s with a guy.”