Page 73 of Under His Control

I glance at Penelope whose pink cheeks could light up the darkness. For once, I don’t enjoy her humiliation.

Her body is rigid, her eyes sparkling in the light, and there’s a slight grimace on her face. She looks like she’s begging the universe to spirit her away from here. I would gladly tag along if she were successful.

“I didn’t want to believe it, but the clues kept stacking up,” Elizabeth continues, her features pulled tight. “That fuck me collar she’s wearing, her hair on your pillow, that vibe between you two tonight. The second I’m gone, you’re all over each other! My god! I bet if I’d been quieter, I would’ve caught you fucking—”

“Elizabeth,” I cut in, anger rising inside me too. I’m pissed at myself that I got carried away again and wound up in this mess, dragging Penelope into it as well. “Can we talk about this outside?”

“No! There’s nothing to talk about! I don’t want to hear your rationalizations why you have a sexual relationship with your stepdaughter, Jake. That’s pretty fucking wrong!”

It floats through my mind to argue that Penelope isn’t my stepdaughter anymore. She hasn’t been for a long time either. Though it doesn’t really make it much better. In society’s eyes, this is still a disturbing situation.

People are going to think all sorts of fucked up things. Say fucked up things. They’ll use words like “grooming” even though that’s not true.

I never looked at or thought about Penelope in any sexual way while I was married to her mother. My troubles began the day she showed up asking for refuge.

Elizabeth jabs her finger at Penelope again, her teeth bared.

“And you! I sent you to see my brother hoping your situation would help bring you guys back together as a family. Instead you spread your legs for his money! You’re just like your mother, a whore—”

“Elizabeth!”

I stride toward her. My sister and I have done things to upset each other over the years. This is the first time I’ve ever felt immense dislike for her. I might say something I’ll regret for the rest of my life.

She backs up as I approach her. I swerve around her and yank open my front door, the freezing air slicing at my lungs.

“It’s time for you to leave.”

Betrayal shines in my sister’s eyes and the plastic bug rustles as she clutches it tighter. I feel even worse than I already do.

Elizabeth opens the bag and takes out the red licorice twists Penelope asked her to buy. She tosses it on the floor, and the candy’s crinkling thump is loud and unpleasant in the silence.

With another disdainful look at Penelope, my sister spins on her heels and storms out of the house.

I hold the door open, the cold air numbing my skin. I stare blankly at my porch bench, listening to the sounds of my sister’s departure.

The angry slam of the car door, her engine rumbling alive, her tires crunching on the snow as she pulls out of my driveway. Then she’s gone.

I let out a deep exhale through my nostrils.

This night went from fantastic to a fucking shitshow.

And it was all my fault.

I feel like a piece of shit for throwing my sister out of my house. She was the only one who supported me when I needed it the most.

I’ll contact her tomorrow. She should be less angry by then. I’ll tell her I’m sorry, and hopefully she’ll be willing to have that talk about me and Penelope.

A sniffle behind me draws my attention. I look over my shoulder at Penelope.

She’s crying.

I shut the door and go sit beside her, wincing at the ache between my legs.

She’s soft and trembling against me when I wrap my arm around her. I pull her close and rub her arm.

I hate to see her cry when she showed me she’s strong this past week. Despite the things I’ve done to upset, frustrate, and humiliate her, I’ve never seen her shed any tears.

Penelope abruptly pulls away from me and stands, wiping at her eyes as she strides to the kitchen. She goes to the paper towel roll on the counter and rips off a sheet.