I Was the Secret, She Got the Ring

I was 12 years old when Mom married into the Brock family. Kieran was 15 years old then, and his gaze toward us was sharp and cold.

It wasn't hard to tell that he hated the very idea of us being there.

I remember clutching the hem of my dress as Mom introduced me to him as his sister.

Kieran only glanced at me coldly and sneered. "My mom only had one child. I'd appreciate it if certain people didn't try to force a connection. Especially the child of a homewrecker."

The humiliation of those words pinned me to the spot.

I tried to find my voice and explain that Mom didn't date Andre until long after Kieran's mother had passed away. She wasn't a homewrecker.

But Kieran didn't care for the truth. He treated us like dirt, and no matter how many times Andre scolded him, nothing changed.

To keep the peace for Mom, I stayed out of Kieran's way to avoid sparking his fuse.

I thought my relationship with Kieran would always stay this tense.

Then came the night I turned 17 years old.

I was walking home alone after a late study session. As I turned a corner, I came face-to-face with a drunken man moving toward me, his words lewd and foul.

I clutched my bag to my chest, panic surging as I scanned the street for help, but it was deserted.

Despair began to sink in.

Just as the man's hand reached for me, a firm grip suddenly yanked me back, shielding me. Then came a heavy thud as the man hit the pavement.

I stared blankly at the figure standing in front of me. I never expected Kieran—who had always loathed me—to be the one to save me.

Kieran shook out his wrist. His gaze at me was as impatient as ever, yet I caught a flicker of genuine tension in his gaze.

"You've got a car but won't take it? Are you just asking for trouble? Don't make it seem like we're abusing you."

Andre had arranged for a driver to take us both to school. But I knew my presence only irritated Kieran, so I had never ridden with him.

The instant our gazes locked, I hurriedly averted my eyes, unsure of what to say.

Kieran clicked his tongue in annoyance, grabbing my wrist and shoving me into the backseat.

The finer details of that night have blurred over time. But I would never forget the way my heart hammered against my ribs as he stood before me.

For as long as I could remember, it had just been Mom. She worked so hard that I never wanted to burden her with my problems. I kept every slight and every bruise to myself.

That night was the first time I had ever felt protected.

Since then, my relationship with Kieran had begun to change subtly.

I found myself watching him without thinking, quietly keeping tabs on his life. I convinced myself I was subtle enough that Kieran would never notice.

But on the night of my 18th birthday, a feverish kiss laid all my hidden feelings bare.