Chapter 2: Caught In The Middle

~Joan~

The silence was thick, in the air, waiting for someone to break it. Aaron's dark eyes flicked toward his sister before locking onto me, their heat unmistakable. His gaze hardened, a muscle ticking in his jaw. He leaned back into the sofa, surveying both of us like he'd caught us red-handed doing something wrong.

His expression was unreadable, but the anger radiating from him was sharp, palpable. Only one question echoed in my mind: how did he know we were here? Rhoda had insisted he didn’t have a clue—she hadn’t even told him.

“Rhoda...” His voice was low, cold, perfectly controlled, but there was a dangerous edge to it. “Care to explain what you're doing in 'my' house, without my permission?”

Rhoda was silent. If I didn’t know her so well, I might’ve believed the man across from us wasn’t her brother. Seven years wasn’t much of a gap, but Aaron made it seem like a big deal.

His eyes slid to me, and I braced myself. “And you,” he said, his tone growing darker, anger simmering beneath the surface. “Still following my sister around, I see.”Ll

“I didn’t know this was your house,” I shot back, elbowing Rhoda. Now was not the time for her to stay fucking silent.

“No idea?” He cut me off, standing abruptly. His height was imposing, casting a shadow that made the room feel smaller. A shiver slid down my spine. “You expect me to believe this wasn’t your idea?”

There we go.

I clenched my fists, the old anger I always felt around Aaron bubbling up again, stripping away whatever restraint I had left. “Maybe if you stopped being such a controlling bastard, we wouldn’t be in this situation,” I snapped, ignoring Rhoda’s presence and the fact she could hear me going off on her 'precious' older brother.

Rhoda’s eyes darted between us, wide with fear. She dreaded him, that much was clear.

Aaron took a step toward me, his gaze darkening further. Rhoda raised her hand, stepping forward.

“Aaron, stop—please,” she begged, her voice pleading. “This was my idea. Don’t take it out on her.”

She stepped closer to him as I instinctively shifted back, but he ignored her, his eyes never leaving mine. I wasn’t about to let him intimidate me. I wasn’t backing down this time, no matter how hard his stare bore into me.

“You’ve always been trouble, Joan,” he said, his voice chilling. “And now, here you are, in 'my' house,” he bit out the words as if they burned on his tongue. I rolled my eyes, the anger in me surging higher.

I wanted to hurl every insult I could think of at him for treating me like trash all these years, but instead, I took a breath, carefully choosing my next words.

“You know what?” I said, meeting his glare head-on. “Fuck. You.” I stepped forward until my ballet flats touched the tips of his pointed shoes. I raised my middle finger, thrusting it in his face before storming off toward the room where we’d stashed our bags.

There was no way I was letting Aaron ruin the one vacation I’d had in a year. I was going to enjoy my trip—without his godforsaken, insufferably handsome face hovering around.

I yanked my clothes out of the closet, shoving them into my bag with quick, angry movements. I didn’t care that it was late, I would find a hotel, spend the night somewhere else, anywhere but here.

From the hallway, I heard Rhoda’s muffled yells—she’d finally shaken off the shock, but I didn’t care anymore.

“Aaron, don’t you dare! You can’t keep being a jackass to her every time she’s around!”

Her voice grew closer, footsteps approaching as I zipped my bag shut, ready to leave. The door swung open, and there they were—Aaron standing tall, Rhoda behind him, looking exasperated.

Their gazes flicked to my packed bag, Rhoda’s eyes softening, turning glossy.

“Jo...” she whispered, her voice breaking.

I looked at her, ignoring Aaron completely. “Just so you know,” I said calmly, “your brother is an asshole. And yeah, I’ll text you my address in the morning.”

I stepped forward, waiting for them to move out of my way. Aaron’s voice stopped me cold.

“You’re not leaving at this time of night,” he said, his tone not a request but an order. I stared at him, hoping the daggers in my eyes could pierce him to death.

It would hurt Rhoda... But it was worth the try.

“No,” I said annoyed. “You don’t get to dictate what I do.”

His jaw tightened, a flicker of something darker crossing his face. “Try me, Joan. See if I won’t drag you back here myself,” he said, the quiet threat sending an unexpected warmth curling in my lower belly. Damn him.

“You’re going to leave in the morning,” he continued. “I’m not letting you storm off in anger and end up getting murdered somewhere, not like it would affect me. And besides...” He glanced at Rhoda. “We still need to talk.”

He turned and left the room, leaving behind tension that buzzed in the air. I blinked at Rhoda, incredulous.

“Did he just threaten me?” I asked.

Rhoda stepped forward, throwing her arms around me. “I’m sorry, Jo,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I never meant for this to happen. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this.”

I sighed, wrapping my arms around her. “It’s not your fault,” I murmured. No, the blame lay squarely with Aaron and his brooding, dark-eyed, chiseled arrogance.

As much as I hated him, I couldn’t deny that he was disgustingly handsome.

“Just stay for the night,” Rhoda pleaded. “Please.”

I sighed again, resigned. “Fine. I’ll stay,” I muttered. I wasn’t staying because of Aaron’s thinly veiled warning or the strange warmth his threat had sparked in me.

I was staying because Rhoda asked me to.

Not because of Aaron. Definitely not because of him.