My Jealous Stepbrother
GETAWAY

I pounded on the door in desperation, feeling the adrenaline coursing through my veins. The atmosphere was charged with tension, and every second seemed eternal. The silence on the other side lingered, increasing my anxiety. Why was it taking so long to open the door? Finally, I heard hurried footsteps approaching. "I'm coming!" exclaimed an angry voice from inside. A brief relief washed over me that I would soon be safe, but something in the tone of the voice made me doubt if all was well. The door opened abruptly.

Ryan's eyes filled with surprise to replace me standing there. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice laden with distrust. My mind flooded with questions, but I decided to remain calm and tell the truth, at least part of it.

"I came to talk to you," I replied, trying to appear confident even though my heart was racing. Before Ryan could add anything else, I inhaled deeply and began to speak. "I can't believe you're okay and that you decided to run away like this! Do you know how much I've suffered from loneliness? I've tried to communicate with you not knowing what had happened to you, and you just ignored me! I thought you might be here as a possibility, but I didn't expect it to be true." "Have you traveled miles and miles just to check on me?"

"That's right. and you're there, with your tousled hair and a freshly risen appearance, looking as sexy as if nothing had happened," I said, pointing to his chest with my badly painted apple green fingernails.

"Did you just call me sexy, Samantha?" asked Ryan with a smirk on his perfect face, totally deviating from the main topic. I couldn't believe what he had just said. But there was no time to argue about that. "Sam, how did you get here?" Oh no.

"Ryan, how I got here is not what's important right now," I replied firmly. "What is important is that I'm annoyed with you and tired of everyone wanting to influence my life as if they have the right to do so."

"Tell me how you got to campus. Did Dad come with you? Did he drive you here?" His words made me pause for a moment, reflecting on the relationship he had with his stepfather, who to him was his father. "Don't call him 'dad,' he's not your father," I replied firmly, making my point. But Ryan wasn't swayed by my argument.

"Sam, listen," he grabbed my shoulders gently and bent down a few inches to be at eye level with me. "Even though he's not my biological father, he's still a father to me," Ryan said earnestly. "The way he treats my mom and how he took care of her and me, protecting us from my biological father's beatings, that's all that matters. You know it was hard for us."

His words struck a deep chord with me. Although I knew about the abusive father Ryan and his mother had faced in the past, hearing him speak so respectfully of my father made me question my own thoughts.

For a moment, I felt like I was the only one who was wrong, "It's not that I hate my father, I just don't understand why he is so opposed to our relationship. Does what I feel not matter? If I want to be near you, or just talk to you, shouldn't that be enough? I don't understand how someone else can decide for us what is right or wrong about our feelings."

"I think there was some confusion. Just because I respect your father doesn't mean I'm willing to let you go so easily," he said with a captivating charm. His hands circled my waist seductively and his fingers gently brushed my cheeks, causing them to flush instantly.

"Huh?" was all I could articulate, feeling my words tangle on my tongue as I tried to replace a suitable response. Ryan's closeness and gentle touch took my breath away, and my mind became a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. "So, will you tell me how you got here?" he continued drunkenly. My thoughts clouded as I became lost in his honey-colored eyes.

"I took our father's car and left when everyone was asleep," I admitted, mesmerized by her presence.

"You did what?" exclaimed Ryan, his voice full of surprise. "You stole the car!"

"I didn't steal it," I quickly replied, trying to justify my actions. "I just borrowed it, I'll give it back."

Ryan looked at me visibly annoyed mixed with disbelief. "I'm going to call the police," he said semi-jokingly trying to lighten the mood. I felt a shiver run down my spine. But before I could deny it, Ryan added, "How did you even manage to get here without wrecking the car first?"

My nerves instantly shot up since he started talking, I looked at him with wide eyes. Ryan seemed to notice my nervousness and changed his tone. "Did you destroy the car?" he asked with concern in his voice.

"Of course not!" I exclaimed, pulling away from him and punching him lightly in the chest moodily. "What do you think of me?" I added, offended. "If not that, then..." Ryan started to say, but was interrupted by pounding on the door. "They found me!" I whispered in panic and quickly started looking for a place to hide. "You didn't see me!" I pleaded with Ryan, desperate to avoid any trouble. However, Ryan seemed confused by my behavior. "But what are you..." I interrupted him by placing my hands over his mouth. "Shh...it's the police," I whispered quietly. "The police?" said Ryan in an equally soft tone. At that moment, there was another knock on the door, and the tension in the room increased even more. "What did you do?" asked Ryan, visibly angry. Before I could finish my answer, we heard a police officer's voice from outside. "How did you think you were capable of driving all the way out here with no license and only one driving lesson?" Ryan was still scolding me. I don't need you to scold me now, I need you to help me get out of this!

"One class is enough to know the basics," I argued, trying to defend myself. Ryan let out an incredulous laugh and replied, "Sure, and the mini heart attack Matthew had being your driving instructor was just part of the process." I defended myself by saying, "I didn't do that badly!". Ryan folded his arms and sarcastically pointed out, "Tell that to the neighbor's mailbox, trash cans, and the tree in the driveway."

I sighed defeatedly and finally relented, "There, there. Just help me, okay?" I implored with my hands in supplication and my best puppy dog face.

Ryan smiled and said, "Only if you promise to tell me everything. EVERYTHING." The knock on the door got louder.

"I promise!" I hurriedly replied, hoping he would help me out of this sticky situation.

Panicking, I hurried to hide among the mountain of dirty clothes piled up in one corner of the room. The smell was unpleasant, as if those clothes hadn't been washed in years, but at least I thought it would be a good place to go unnoticed. I held my breath and waited quietly, hoping they wouldn't replace me.

I heard the creaking sound of the door. "Good evening, sorry for the hour but we are looking for a girl about five foot five, light brown hair." The voice was a woman's, it must have been the policewoman who asked for my driver's license.

I heard a yawn from Ryan, I could almost hear him squinting his eyes. "Excuse me but I didn't see anyone, I was asleep until a moment ago. Soccer practice is exhausting, you know," Ryan said calmly, as if he wasn't hiding a fugitive. He's an excellent actor.

"I see. May I come in to check, young man?"

"I don't see why not." After that I heard firm footsteps inside the room. I stood motionless and breathless, praying they wouldn't replace me, my heart was beating like crazy from fear. Was he turning me in?