The photographer tries to rearrange us. "Let's put you behind your mom and dad."
"Stepmom," I grumble.
Real world me stumbles backward, my hands clasping my mouth to keep my shock from going verbal. Toby and Dylan are my stepbrothers.
I had sex with my stepbrothers? And I liked it?
I rack my brain, chasing answers, but the memory has faded to a blank chalkboard. Stepping forward to the bathroom counter to steady myself, I'm hit with another memory.
It starts with Toby and Dylan towering over me, their faces etched with regret. The shame and anger feels so real as the scene plays out. I say, "Go fuck yourselves. Stay out of my business."
Dylan tries to take my hand but I yank it away. He begs, "We’re sorry, Nikki, let us explain."
Toby's expression reveals that he's crushed, but why? What did they do?
I need to be at home—away from my stepbrothers. I need time to process that my given name is Nikki. I need to be in a safe space if my memories are going to show me the error of my ways. How could everything feel so right with them if it's not?
I slip from the bathroom, silently grabbing my phone, my purse, and my shoes.
Tiptoeing to Toby's bedroom, I ease the door closed, and order a rideshare. It's ten minutes out. I get dressed in my own clothes that I left in here earlier.
In the few minutes I have left, I find a notepad on his desk and flip to a blank page. I leave a simple note:I need time alone. When I’m ready to talk, I’ll be in touch.
All I have is their address. That will have to do. They have answers I need, but it has to be on my terms.
I turn back to the used pages, presumably Toby's tidy handwriting—a timeline. The dates start with when I was taken to the hospital and progress to now. They know everything.
Nikki. My name. It feels so foreign. Yet the endearment of Nikita flowed so freely from Dylan's lips.
I quietly tear my note free and pocket the rest of the pad. My ride is almost here but I don't want to chance waking Toby or Dylan. The house layout clicks from earlier. There's a side door I can escape through.
The rideshare pulls up to the curb as I make it to the front yard. I jump into the back and tell the driver I don't want to talk, just get me back to the Aubergine Affair and my car.
With the light from my phone, I scan the notepad. I was wrong about one thing… they have everything except my current address. Good. I need this minute, this breath, to unravel the tangled memories.
To figure out if it's entirely wrong for me to feel the way my clean slate allowed me to feel.
Chapter 11
Toby
The click of the exterior door has me bolting upright. I thought she was just making herself at home.
Something tells me to let her go. Maybe it was my grandpa's old saying… If you love something, set it free. Only I fully plan on following her.
"Wake the fuck up." I shake Dylan's shoulder hard then rush to the front window. Sure enough a car is pulling up. I see her rushing around the side of the house toward it.
Dylan groans. "What?"
"She left." I grab my clothes and get dressed.
He's a little less groggy but grabs his clothes. "Are you fucking with me?"
"You called her Nikita. She waited for us to fall asleep then snuck out." I look out the window one more time. A Honda Odyssey. The color's hard to tell, dark gray maybe.
He rubs his face. "Fuck! Let's chase her down. She can't get far without a vehicle."
"She lives here now, Toby. She has friends, a rideshare app." I have my keys in hand.
