My Stepfather, my Ruin

Nicole Harper

~•~

Two months later and I still hadn't found someone who could make me feel the things that stranger made me feel in bed.

I also had wet dreams about him even if I knew nothing of him.

Sometimes, I regretted going because his image was imprinted on my mind, but whenever I recalled the money I made from it, the regret dissolved quickly. I was able to pay my rent up until my graduation. I was able to focus on my studies without thinking of where to get the next meal from since my mother didn't even bother to keep her promise of sending me her next allowance.

I was more than happy when my lease was up. I'd applied for work in several companies in Boston, but didn't hear from any of them. When my mom suggested I go back home, I took it. My mom wasn't a very good person, but she knew a lot of people. If I couldn't find a job myself, I didn't mind using her connections. 

Besides, I loved Chicago more than Boston and would prefer to settle down there.

"So we're never going to meet again?" Clara questioned as she leaned by my door, watching me close my suitcase.

I looked up at her. Clara and I had become a lot closer after that night. "Chicago is only a three or four-hour flight from here, Clara. We can visit whenever we want to."

She sighed. "True. I just hope the next person that moves in is as nice as you are."

"It's hard not to be nice to someone like you."

Clara snorted. "Tell that to them," she jerked her thumb backward, pointing at the couch where our other roommates were.

I grinned. "They're special."

Everything in my room fit into two huge suitcases. Clara helped me with one downstairs and offered to drive me to the airport. I couldn't say no to that. 

At the airport, we hugged each other bye and I was on my way. I hadn't been back home in a year and a half because living with my mom was quite stressful. Thankfully, I'd be busy this summer-hopefully- and wouldn't have to deal with her every second of the day.

Speaking of my mother.

She was waiting for me as I exited the airport with a large unnecessary sign that had my name on it. My mother, as always, was in a pink matching set. Her blonde hair was tied in a deliberate messy bun. She rushed towards me when she saw me, hugging me with a squeal. I let go of my suitcases and hugged her back.

She pulled back to stare at me, frowning. "You're much thinner than you used to be."

Was I? I'd think I'd added more weight in the past two months.

"It's fine though," she dismissed me before I could respond. She took one of the suitcases and hooked her arm through mine. "We're rich now, so I'll feed you whatever you want." She paused. "Well, the housekeeper will, but his fridge is always stocked."

I stopped walking, making her halt as well. "What? We're living with your new husband?"

"Of course, silly." She chuckled. "Do you expect me to live in a different house?"

"No, I don't expect you to do that, but I can live alone at home."

"What home? I sold our house already."

My jaw dropped. It wasn't the first time I was living with my mom and her husband, but that didn't mean I wanted to go through that again. She argued with them all the time and asked for a divorce whenever things didn't go her way. If she'd told me she sold our place, I would have found a way to renew my lease. "You didn't think that maybe I'd want to live there?"

"Why would you live there when you have a better option?" She sounded genuinely confused.

I sighed and resumed walking. There was no use reasoning with her. She saw everything her way. I didn't know anything about her new husband; not his name, nor his face, nor even what he did for work. She wanted me to live with a literal stranger?

"Don't worry about it, Nikky. He's barely at home so you won't run into him all the time. I only told him to stay home today so I can introduce you. I..."

I stopped listening as she continued speaking. It wasn't ideal to live with her husband, but I had no choice at the moment. I needed to find a job, then an apartment. I also wanted to meet this supposed billionaire. I could only hope it wasn't a glorified drug dealer since my mom had very weird tastes in men.

We walked over to her car. It was just as pink as her clothes. I used to like pink when I was younger until my mom abused the color. "Is it pretty?" She questioned, pointing at the car.

I nodded noncommittally and waited for her to open the boot so I could put my luggage in.

During the ride to her new home, she talked about how perfect her new man was. Perfect being him giving her money whenever she asked without asking why she needed it. 

She also called about where and how she met him, but I zoned out during most of the conversation. I only recalled her saying that it was good to be in places where rich men frequented.

From her words, it was already obvious she didn't like the man. She only wanted his money. I felt bad for the poor man who had to marry her. She was going to drain him and leave him when he had nothing. That was usually what she did. I wasn't sure if these men didn't care enough to know her past or if they were just stupid enough to think they were the exception.

The house looked like every other building on the block, but it was fenced and well, expensive. I guess he did have money.

"Tristan!" My mom yelled as we exited the car. "Tristan! Nicole is here!"

I shook my head slightly, but rolled my luggage behind me as I headed to the door.

"Tris-" my mom's yelling was cut short when the door finally opened.

My breath caught in my throat when a very familiar man stepped out of the house. Was this the husband?

My mom walked over to him with a big grin. "Tristan, this is Nicole, my daughter. Nikky, this is Tristan, your stepfather."

I blinked. That was my stepfather?

The same man who had fucked me two months ago that I couldn't seem to forget was my new stepfather???

Was this a joke?