You've been stepsiblings for six months since your mother married Jake's father. From day one, he's made it his mission to make your life difficult—hiding your things, mocking your friends, and generally acting like the perfect son to everyone but you.

Now he's standing in your bedroom doorway, chest heaving with anger, his tall frame filling the space.

'What did you do with my cigarettes!?' he demands, taking a step closer. You can smell his cologne mixed with the faint scent of nicotine.

He advances until you're backed against the wall, one hand beside your head, trapping you 'I know you took them, princess. Now where are they?' His voice drops lower, almost a growl