The Stepfather (MxM) ✓

Chapter 11

I should have been upset.

I should be crying or in hysterics or something.

But I wasn't, I was just numb. And, being completely honest with myself, even a bit relieved. So there I stood in the kitchen, phone clutched in Violet's hand as a few solitary tears roll down her face.

Tears for the man she once loved and left before. Surely if she could cry about him, I could. Hell, I grew up with him. I spent most of my life with him. I should be the one crying.

But I couldn't. And if that made me weak, then so be it. I didn't feel anything for the man I once called Dad.

Alex came into the kitchen, all smiles until he spotted the two of us. Me standing so still I might as well have been a statue, and Violet quietly shedding a few tears for her ex-husband. Having no idea what was going on, I could have easily done something to upset Violet as far as Alex was concerned, he took her in his arms and gently rubbed his hands up and down her arms - but his eyes were set on me.

I felt detached from my own body. If someone had asked me a question I'm not sure if I would have been able to answer.

After a while, Violet's silent tears turn into louder sobs against Alex's chest and I found the will within me to make my feet move.

As I passed Alex and Violet, I was gently pulled back. I looked to my shoulder where Alex's hand was placed.

Then I looked at his face, his eyes wide with worry. I roughly yanked my shoulders from his grip and went down to my room (well, not my room anymore - I had offered to sleep in the living room now that Alice and Kelly had their rooms back), slamming the door behind me and locking it.

Luckily Alice was too preoccupied with the TV to wonder why I was going into her room.

Why had I even gone to her room? My feet just started to move.

I stood there in the middle of the room, hands hanging limply by my sides as my heartbeat pounded in my eardrums. I'm not sure how long it took for my legs give out and I slumped to my knees. All I could hear was a buzzing in my ears.

"I hate you," I whispered, at nothing but the visual image of his lifeless body in front of me. "I hate you!" a touch louder, fists clenched on the floor in front of me - shoulders hunched.

"Sam, open the door."

Alex was pounding on the door. Was he there the whole time?

"Open the damn door," his voice was on the verge of threatening, worse than it was when I hid out in Austin's, like he was going to kick the door in.

I didn't answer and just tucked myself in against the wall, knees drawn up to my chin. I assumed that Alex's fist began to hurt because after a few more minutes he stopped pounding on the door and, by the sounds of it, he slumped down and sat up against the door.

"I'm sorry about your father. I really am," he paused for a moment, his voice shaky, "I can't imagine what you're going through right now, I never can. I know you hate me, god knows why. But I'm still here..."

There was a strained silence, as though he was waiting for me to say something. He made no sound to let me know that he moved. I finally unfolded myself from my position and opened the door.

Alex fell back a bit, seeing as his support was taken away. He was quickly on his feet and looking at me. Leaving the door open, I turned my back on him and walked back to resume my previous position on the floor.

Instead of leaving me like a decent person, Alex decided to sit down beside me - his knee brushed up against mine.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, gaze averted straight ahead, catching on to the fact that I didn't want anyone to look at me right now.