Part 1The Jerk I Blocked Is My Stepbrother

The possessive paranoia from my online boyfriend was finally too much. I blocked him, deleted the chat, and tossed my phone onto the bed.

Barely a minute passed before my bedroom door was pounded on.

Asher Reed, my stepbrother—the guy who usually acted like I was part of the furniture, or worse, a stain—stood in the doorway, his face dark with a furious anxiety I’d never seen.

His voice was raw, a desperate mess.

“Tell me how to apologize to a girl.”

“My girlfriend won’t answer my calls.”

I blinked, taking a small step back.

I glanced down at my phone on the bed. Wait a minute.

Wasn’t that my online burner account?

My brain flatlined.

The clingy, whiny, controlling guy who called me ‘baby’ and sent me gifts—the one I’d just deleted in a fit of rage—was Asher?

The ceiling was coming down.

* * *

The online lunatic I’d personally blocked a minute ago was standing right in front of me, radiating pure, murderous tension.

“Talk,” Asher snapped, his tone laced with impatience. “Are you mute?”

I swallowed hard.

“Is this your… girlfriend?”

Asher impatiently ran a hand through his perfectly styled dark hair.

“Just started dating. I asked her who she was playing games with, and she blocked me. Just like that.” He glared at me. “You’re a girl. What does she want? What is that supposed to mean?”

I edged back, trying to put more space between us.

“Maybe… she felt like you were being too much of a psycho?” I offered gently.

“Too much?”

Asher let out a cold, humorless laugh. That face, the one that made every girl in our high school swoon, was twisted into a dark, menacing sneer.

“I’m her boyfriend. I’m not allowed to ask a single question?”

“Are all girls this high-maintenance now?”

My mouth twitched.

Who was it that sent dozens of texts morning, noon, and night?

Who was it that frantically audio-called if I didn't reply in five minutes?

Who was it that had a meltdown because I had a male teammate in one of my casual mobile games?

I didn’t dare say any of that.

I had to play the idiot.

“…Bro, are you… really into her?”

Asher paused.

A flicker of awkwardness crossed his face. Even his ears turned a suspicious, faint pink.

But he quickly hardened his expression, glaring at me with malice.

“None of your damn business.”

“Sloan, don’t think that just because I’m asking for your help, you suddenly get to act like my sister.” He jabbed a finger in the air between us. “In this house, you’re still just an outsider.”

Everyone knew Asher hated me.

The day my mother and I moved in, he’d kicked my suitcase down the stairs.

He’d pointed a finger right at my nose and yelled, “Take your trash and get out.”

“I have one mother, and she’s dead.”

“You and your gold-digger mom don’t deserve to set foot in a Reed house.”

In the years since, he’d stopped the physical assaults, but the cold war never ended.

And yet, here he was.

Begging me for help with an online girl.

“Then don’t ask me,” I took a deep breath, reaching for the door. “I’m an outsider. I have no right to manage your affairs.”

A hand slammed flat against the door frame, stopping me.

The veins on Asher’s hand stood out, blue and bulging.

He stared at me, his teeth gritted.

“Sloan, don’t push your luck.”

“I’ve asked everyone I know. Nobody understands how to handle a girl who’s got a temper, a wild streak, and blocks you without a word…” He trailed off, searching for the right words.

I almost laughed out loud.

That was my burnout account, the one I used to vent and be as toxic as possible!

And he actually liked that version of me?

“I don’t know either.”

I shoved the door again. “Go ask someone else.”

Asher didn’t move.

Suddenly, he pulled a credit card from his jeans pocket.

“There’s five thousand on this.”

Asher looked down at me, the arrogance returning to his eyes. “Get her to unblock me. The money’s yours.”

“I know you need cash. Didn’t your pathetic biological father just track you down looking for support payments?”

I snapped my head up.

He investigated me? He knew about my gambling-addict dad hitting me up for money?

“Take the cash, do the job.”

Asher turned to leave, tossing one last icy sentence over his shoulder.

“I want her to add me back tonight. If you fail, you can pack your bags and get out of this house.”