Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Oh shit. Our parents are standing in the doorway, staring at us. My jeans are unbuttoned, and Frankie’s are all the way down around her thighs. I’m still buried inside her, my hand on her gorgeous ass, and it’s clear that there’s not going to be any explaining this away.
“Hey, guys,” I say, when the silence in the room has become unbearable. “Dad,” I say, nodding first to him and then to Gertie. “Gertie.”
They look like they’ve lost the ability to speak. Gertie’s mouth is hanging open, and Dad has gone bright red, averting his eyes so he doesn’t have to look at what’s happening. Finally he speaks, his voice quiet and monotone.
“Hunter,” he asks, “what are you doing?”
Gertie turns to look at him, her eyes wide.
“Is that all you have to say?” She looks from him to me to her daughter, disbelieving. “What the hell is going on? Why are you…” She swallows, seeming almost embarrassed to say it. “Why are you two doing this in my kitchen? Don’t you know that you’re going to be related soon?”
“Mom,” Frankie begins, still bent over the kitchen table, “I can explain-”
“What the hell do you mean, you can explain, young lady?” Gertie cries. “Explain what? What are you…? Why are you…?”
“Gertie,” I begin, but she rounds on me.
“Don’t call me that,” she snaps.
Realizing this is escalating, I pull out of Frankie, tucking myself back into my pants and zipping them up. Beet red and moving like she’s in a trance, Frankie straightens up and pulls her jeans back up, not meeting her mother’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she says quietly. “This is… Well, I mean, it’s not… It’s not what it looks like.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s exactly what it looks like,” Gertie snaps back. “It looks like you were fucking your future stepbrother!”
“Gertie, please,” Dad says, putting a hand on her arm, his expression pained. “Language.”
She shakes him off, taking a few steps closer to us and pointing at me.
“We leave you two alone for five minutes and this is what happens? How long has this been going on?”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Fordham,” I say, holding up my hands, “but that’s none of your business.”
“Like hell it isn’t! Is that why you were being so weird at dinner, Frankie? What the hell are you two doing?”
“Hang on,” I say, keeping my voice level and cool. “You’re overreacting.”
“This isn’t overreacting, son,” Dad chimes in, looking at me. “Do you have any idea how crazy this is?”
“Yes,” I reply calmly, “and I’m sorry that you guys had to see that. But you’re blowing this way out of proportion.”
“You’re my daughter, Frankie!” cries Gertie. “You’re an innocent! And now you’re taking up with your stepbrother?” She’s gone pale in the face.
“Mom,” says Frankie sounding both ashamed and terrified, “I’m sorry. But can you please just calm down for a second?”
“No, I won’t!” Gertie snaps. “Not about this!” she glares at us, looking from one to the other. “I don’t want you two seeing each other again.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, “but that’s not going to happen. I’m thirty years old, and Frankie’s twenty. We’re both adults, and what we do with each other is our business.”
Frankie looks at me, and I can see tears in her eyes. Fuck. This wasn’t supposed to happen like this.
“Hunter, stop,” she says. “Let’s just…”
“I can’t believe this,” storms Gertie, running a hand through her platinum hair. She turns to Dad.
“George, say something, for god’s sake!”
“What do you want me to say?” Dad demands, throwing up his hands. “What can I say? Obviously this isn’t the first time they’ve done this!”
“No, and that’s the problem!” Gertrude rounds on Frankie. “Was it that party you went to the other night? The one with Jenny? I knew that girl was a bad influence.” Before either of us can reply, she’s already starting in on Dad again. “What the hell do you teach him, anyway? Your son has no morals!”
“Excuse me?!” Now my dad’s voice is rising. “You think I taught him to do this?”
“You’re his father! You should be setting an example!”
They continue to argue. I turn to look at Frankie, who’s started to shake again. Her face is bright red, and as she looks from me to our parents, I can see the panic building on her face. She glances at me one more time, looking like she wants to say something, but then turns and runs out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
I watch her go, wondering if I should follow her, but then shake my head. What a mess. Not wanting to stick around for whatever blowup is coming, I push past Dad and Gertie and head for the front door, bursting out of the house and onto the street. I don’t have keys to my dad’s car, but that doesn’t matter. I don’t really care where I go, as long as it’s away from here.