HUGE X4: A REVERSE HAREM STEPBROTHER ROMANCE (HUGE Series)
HUGE X4: Chapter 12

The next day, mom is at my door bright and early.  I squint at her through sleep-blurred eyes and she huffs.  “Look at you.  This really won’t do.”

She strides forward, her hand pushing on the door to make enough room for her to pass through.  Typical mom.  No asking if she can come in.  Just barge right in.

She’s a cloud of white caftan and strong perfume, obviously making sure she’s extra glamorous for her new fiancé.  I, on the other hand, still have sand between my toes from last night’s stroll and sex-mussed hair from the shenanigans with the boys yesterday.  For mom, appearances are important, and mine will be telling her all sorts of unpleasant things about my general state of mind.  No one in the family is ever allowed to tarnish the veneer of perfection she has created.

“Are you feeling better, darling?” she asks.  There isn’t really any concern in her voice to match the words.  This is all about her finding out if I can fall into line and do the meet-and-greets with Frank and the boys later.

“A little,” I say, not wanting to lay my cards on the table. If there is a chance I can avoid it, I will.

“Well, that’s good.  You need to eat and drink something now.  Get your strength back up.”

As if my stomach is ruled by my mom, it rumbles loudly.

“See!” she says, looking intensely vindicated.

“Okay, mom.  I’ll order room service.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she says.  “The buffet is lovely and included in our stay.”

“But I’m not dressed, mom.”  She looks disapprovingly at my shorts and camisole pajamas that are adorned with pink and white hearts.

“It’ll take you five minutes to have a shower and throw on a sun dress.  I don’t mind waiting.”

And to show me that I have no choice she takes a seat on the chair by the vanity and pulls a book from her purse.

I trudge towards the bathroom, feeling defeated.  I’m a grown woman who lets her mom rule her life.  Why can’t I just say ‘no mom, I don’t want to go down for breakfast right now?’  It should be easy.  I would with anyone else, but I have a lifetime pattern of giving in to her and I can’t seem to break it.  Even though I know I’m going to spend the next few hours fuming with disappointment at myself, it’s easier to face that than defy her.

I scrub quickly and wash my hair, combing the tangles away.  The hotel towels are like clouds on a summer’s day and I wrap a huge one around myself and pad back into the bedroom.  Mom looks up from the pages of her romance novel and gazes down her nose at me.

“Better,” she says.  “Sometimes all a person needs is a shower to make them feel better.”

I nod and seek out a clean summer dress from the small closet.  I find some dry swimwear and head back to the bathroom to get ready.  In the mirror, I notice all the things about me that have aged; less roundness to my cheeks and fine lines at the corners of my eyes.  I’m young but I feel worn out from dealing with difficult people.  I feel disappointed that I still can’t seem to fight my own corner. I put a little bronzer on my cheeks, nose and the middle of my forehead.  Just enough to look sun kissed.  Then I swipe on some waterproof mascara.  My hair will dry wavy if I leave it, but there seems little point in straightening it to go out into the humidity.

“I’m done, Mom,” I say, slipping my feet into some sandals.  She’s up and ready in seconds, breezing towards the door.

“Come on then, Bethany,” she calls over her shoulder.  “Time’s a wasting.”

And I trail after her like the good little girl I am.

In the hotel breakfast area, I glance around for the twins and find them sitting in the same booth we had the day before.  Liam sees me first and smiles.  There are three other dark heads in the booth too.  The rest of the O’Connell brothers are there too.

“Let’s get something to eat and we can go join the boys,” Mom says.  There’s a softness to her voice that shocks me.  Then I understand.  She always wanted a son.  She used to tell me that when I was little.  When I was older she confessed that she wasn’t able to have any more children after me, and I always felt that she blamed me for that, as ridiculous as it sounds.  Is it a coincidence that she’s found a new partner with four extremely manly sons?  I doubt it.  And I’m dreading the purring she’s going to be doing over all of them.  She loves the attention and it’s all just going to make me cringe.

I spend ages looking at the buffet, pretending to choose something that my stomach can handle.  Mom is huffing and puffing because I’m taking so long.  When I feel like I can’t stall any longer I grab a croissant and a bowl of fruit salad and trail along behind her as she glides towards the twins.

“Good morning, boys,” she says loudly.  “Can we join you?”  They all smile and shift in the booth, clearing space for us to put our plates on the table in front of us.

“Morning ladies,” they all say in a chorus.

Somehow I’ve ended up next to Callum and he wastes no time in sliding his hand up my thigh and giving it a squeeze.  My pussy clenches involuntarily and I have to hold in a moan because I know what those fingers are capable of doing to me.  His eyes are glinting with mischief when I turn to give him a warning glare.

“So, how are you all doing this morning?” Mom asks.

“Fine thank you, Ma’am,” Ryan says, nodding politely.

“That’s good,” Mom says breezily. “Bethany, have you met Ryan and Matty yet?”

I nod and she smiled.  “It’s such a gorgeous day.  Nice to see youngsters getting up early to make the most of it.”  I don’t miss her pertinent glance in my direction at that.  Seriously, she thinks I was ill and still there is zero sympathy or understanding.  Callum squeezes my leg as though he can tell I’m getting tense.  If he’s noticing my mom’s dig then it’s not me being paranoid.

“It is a gorgeous day, and I’m glad to see that Bethany is feeling better today,” Liam says, smiling broadly.

I nibble on my croissant gingerly.  “A little,” I say.

“That’s good.  Enough to get to the beach?”

“Maybe,” I say.

“Do you think that’s wise?” Mom asks, her eyes narrowing.  She glances at Callum, specifically at his arm that is closest to me.  It’s like her eyes can see through wood to his gentle caress on my leg beneath the table.  Maybe it’s me that’s giving something away.  Does my face look relaxed?  I’m usually so tense around her.  Maybe that’s my mistake.

“I’m sure Bethany knows if it’s too much for her,” Callum says cautiously.  It’s so sweet that he wants to stick up for me, but is trying not to rock the boat with mom.

“Bethany has a tendency to overreact to things,” Mom says, popping some fruit into her mouth and smiling.

“Like what, Mom?” I say, feeling totally humiliated.

“Would anyone like more coffee?” Matty asks in a blatant attempt to change the subject.

“I would,” Liam says.

“Me too,” Callum agrees, draining the last of his to emphasize the point.

I’m quiet, looking at my plate so I don’t have to look at mom, feeling totally shamed by her comments that seem designed to make me look small and stupid in front of the twins.

“Like my engagement,” Mom says, finally replying.

I look up at her immediately, finding her sitting with a smug expression on her face that I want to slap away.  I know I shouldn’t feel like that about my own mother, but it’s at times like this that preserving any kind of respectful daughter pretense becomes almost impossible.

“Your engagement?” I splutter.

“Don’t think I’m stupid, Bethany.  You come down with a mysterious illness when I want you to come and meet Frank and the boys.”

“What?”  My voice sounds high pitched as I struggle to keep it together.  Is she really going to do this now?  Air all our dirty laundry in public.  It isn’t really like her to do anything to sully the family name.  Then I get it.  She doesn’t want the boys to like me.  She’s jealous that they might actually want to be my friends.  She wants their attention all to herself.

“It was very convenient,” she says, brushing her hand over her hair.

“I don’t think…” Liam starts, looking at me worriedly.

I raise my hand to stop him because I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit here and let her walk all over me, even if she is right about what I did.  “Do you know what, Mom? I wasn’t expecting any sympathy from you because you don’t have a sympathetic bone in your body.  A lifetime’s worth of experience of having you as a mom has taught me what to expect. But to sit here and call me a liar in front of complete strangers, well, that’s just totally unacceptable.  You think the world revolves around you and your plans, but it doesn’t.  And you know what?  I’m done.  I’m done letting you hurt me.  I’m done being disappointed by the way you treat me.  I’m done hoping that our relationship might be different one day, and I’m done sitting here with you.”

She doesn’t even flinch at my tirade, but when I go to get up she hisses at me to sit.

“No, Mom.  I won’t sit.  I won’t pretend that we’re something that we’re not.  Welcome to the family, boys,” I say, waving my hands between mom and I.  “Happy days all around.”

Then I drop my napkin on the table, grab my bag and leave the restaurant.

My hands are shaking and my heart’s thumping in my chest.  I actually feel physically sick from the confrontation.  As I make my way back to my room, my mind whirs to try to comprehend how this is going to change my life back home.  Since I moved out of my apartment with Brad, I’ve been living back with mom.  There’s no way I’m going to be able to go back to that arrangement after all this.

I’m almost at my room when I hear footsteps behind me.  “Bethany.”  It’s one of my twins, I think and then blink.  My.  Where did that come from?

I turn and Liam and Callum are there, striding down the hallway.  Their faces are serious with concern and in that moment I realize that I need them.  I need their arms around me and their whispering voices to tell me everything’s going to be okay.  But I shouldn’t.  I shouldn’t be needing them at all.  In a day or so they’ll be going back to Dubai and all of this will be nothing but a memory.  Being on my own scares me so much and I hate my own weakness.

I wrap my arms around myself, trying to find the strength to hold myself separate from them.  I don’t want my heart to be bruised again.  I’m barely recovered from the last round of heartbreak.  The trouble is that they don’t seem to feel the same way.  When they’re close enough, Liam immediately pulls me into an embrace that has my cheek mashed against his pec and my whole body sagging in relief.  My arms unfold instinctively to wrap around his narrow waist.  Callum’s there too, stroking my back.

“Your mom was totally out of order,” Callum says.

“She should never have said those things, especially in front of all of us,” Liam adds.

Callum bends to kiss my head.  “I don’t know what she was thinking,” he says, and the burning lump in my throat just grows each time they speak.

“She wanted to make me look small in front of you,” I say quietly.

“Well, that isn’t what she achieved,” Liam says.

“Exactly,” Callum says.  “If anything, it was the opposite.”

“You did the right thing to stand up to her.”  I grip onto Liam’s shirt, feeling so relieved that they support me.  The last thing I’d want them to think is that I’m a disrespectful person, especially to my mom.  That isn’t how I’ve been raised at all.

“I bet she was spouting steam when I left,” I say, cringing.

“She mumbled something under her breath when we made our excuses to leave.”

“What if she followed you?” I say, pulling my hands from around Liam’s waist and resting them on his chest to ease myself back.

“She still had a lot of breakfast to eat,” he says, kissing my head.

“Don’t worry, she’s not going to find out about us,” Callum says.

I relax again but it’s only momentary.

“Us?” a deep voice says from beside us.  The twins jump to attention almost at once, and I turn to see who has spoken and am confronted with an older salt ‘n’ pepper version of Liam and Callum.  Frank?

Oh shit.

“Hey Dad,” Callum says.  Frank’s eyes narrow, taking in the scene he has obviously just witnessed a whole lot of.

“Bethany, I assume,” he says.

I nod, taking a step away from the twins as though a foot of distance might somehow make him forget all he saw and heard.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, boys?” he says, and the anger in his voice is vicious. I can see them recoil a little and I feel terrible.  This was exactly what I feared would happen.  I know they are grown men who can make their own decisions, but I also know what it feels like to deal with the disappointment and anger of a parent, and it isn’t good.

Neither of them says anything and that just seems to enrage Frank even more.  “Both of you?”  His startling gray eyes flick between them.  Seems like he knows about their sharing tendencies too.  This is just mortifying.

Again, neither of them answers.  Callum slips his hands into his pockets, and I wonder if it’s because he’s worried about lashing out at his dad the way I felt the urge to do with my mom.  I glance at Liam and his fists are balled.  It’s instinct that makes me step forward.

“Mr. O’Connell,” I say, reaching out a hand.  “It’s nice to finally meet you.  I’m sorry that I couldn’t make it last night.  I was sick,” I say.

Frank looks at my outstretched hand like he may not shake it, but then he seems to reconsider.  His hands are just like his sons but with thinner skin and more pronounced veins. His grip is strong and he doesn’t let go.  Instead, he leans in, holding my hand tightly.  “I’m only going to say this once,” he hisses.  “You stop whatever it is you’re doing with my boys and leave them alone, for your mother’s sake.”

He drops my hand like it’s something dirty and I stare open-mouthed at this man who looks so much like the twins but is obviously very different in character and manner.  “Dad,” Callum says in a warning voice, stepping forward and putting his hand on my arm.

Frank raises his finger and jabs it violently.  “Now you listen here, boy.  You are not going to mess this up for me, do you hear.”

I shrug Callum’s hand from my arm and start running down the hallway, feeling utterly humiliated.  I hear raised voices behind me as the twins start to respond to their father’s outburst and I’m glad that they’re not going to follow me.  I just need to get away.

In my room, I lean against the closed door and rest my hands on my knees, taking deep breaths to try and calm myself.  The humiliation.  I have never felt like this before.  I’m too mortified to cry even, and it’s then that I realize that I just need to get on a plane and go.  I need to disappear before any of this escalates into more shouting and accusations.  All my worst fears have been realized and it’s time to make a break for it, while I still can.

I grab my suitcase from the closet and start to pack my things frantically.  I’m almost done when there’s a knock at the door.  Apart from Kerry, who is on the other side of the island, there isn’t anyone that I want to talk to right now.  I ignore the next set of knocking too as I gather my toiletries in the bathroom.

“Bethany,” I hear, thinking the voice sounds like Callum.  There’s a sharper, more demanding edge to the way he says my name, like that one word can convey the importance of me opening the door for him immediately.

I want to.  So badly.

But I can’t.

If I let them in, I know what will happen.  They’ll try and convince me that we’ve done nothing wrong and that it’s our parents who are behaving badly here, not us.  They’ll make me feel better by making me feel safe, and I can’t let them do that.  I’m already too hooked on them for my own good.  The thought of getting on a plane and not saying goodbye has my stomach clenching and my heart aching.  They’ll hate me for bailing.  I know they will.  But it’s for the best.  Maybe, in a year’s time we’ll all have moved on and ‘family’ occasions won’t be so fraught.  Although my mom has treated me appallingly, I don’t want to ruin her new life.  From what I can see, she and Frank are made for each other, and I never thought I’d be able to say that about a man.  They deserve each other, well and truly.

And what I deserve is some peace.  To forgive myself for falling for Brad’s manipulation.  To forget how it felt to be worshiped by Liam and Callum.  To get away from my mom and her toxic influence in my life.  Most importantly, to find myself and be happy being single.

“Bethany.”  I think it’s Liam this time.  “Come on, babe. Open the door. We just want to see you and make sure you’re okay.

They bang again and I know I’m not going to get rid of them without reassuring them at least.

I go nearer and press my hand against the door.  “I’m okay,” I tell them.  “I just want to be by myself, okay?”

“Open up, honey.  We’re so sorry about our dad.  Just let us in so we can talk.”

“I can’t.  Please.”  I wait, wondering if they heard the crack in my voice through the slab of wood between us.  A single tear drops down my cheek as I imagine them walking away.  The sadness inside me is so big and consuming that I find my hand pressing against my heart.

“Bethany,” they say together, and I can almost feel the connection of their hands on the other side of the door.

“Please,” I say again, and then I slide down the wall until I’m curled in a ball, my ear pressed against the wood.  I hear them talking; just a murmur of voices.  They’re trying to decide what to do next.  I know they don’t want to go.  I know they were hoping they could convince me to let them in, to my room and maybe to my body again.  The way they’ve been with me I wonder how they’re feeling in their hearts too.  I recall what Ryan said about the boys not sharing unless they’re thinking about more than sex with a girl.  If that’s the case then pushing them away like this feels doubly harsh.

They debate some more and then stop.  I think they’re leaving but then a note is slipped under the door, right at my feet.  I reach forward to retrieve it and find it’s a receipt from the hotel bar for three cocktails.  Our first night.  The note is short and reads, “We’re so sorry you’re hurting, Bethany.  Don’t push us away.  Come find us later when you’re feeling up to it.”

Another tear rolls down my cheek and I swipe it away quickly, scrambling to my feet.  My hand reaches for the door handle, but just as I’m about to turn it, I stop.

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