One Step After Another

***Author's Note: Just in case you didn't notice, this story is in the INCEST/TABOO category. As I noted on my profile, I'm currently exploring categories that I don't typically write in. This story has HEAVY sexual themes of an incestuous/taboo nature, so if this isn't your cup of tea, PLEASE move on to one of my other stories or wait for my next one.

Last chance...

You were warned.

*ALL characters are at least 18 years old.

Every footfall across the polished hardwood floor was like the steady march of a horse's hooves. My stepdad James' staccato footsteps mirrored the ticking of the grandfather clock standing tall in the corner like a sentinel. James paused and glanced at it and then at his watch. He was nothing if not punctual and demanded the same in everyone around him.

He poked and prodded at the knot of his necktie, loosening it and then tightening it before checking his appearance in the mirror on the far side of the living room. Then he resumed his back and forth march.

Clip. Clop. Clip. Clop. Clip. Clop.

If his career with the police department ever fizzled out or this dinner to boost his prospects for deputy chief failed, he surely had a future as a guard at Buckingham Palace or the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.

He paused and pivoted around on his heels to face me where I sat on the centermost couch cushion, caddy corner from my mom who sat on the front 1/8 of the seat of a high-back leather recliner--the pride of the living room furniture. He held his head high as he looked his nose down on me. "Remember," he said, his voice almost echoing through the room, "I expect you on your best behavior tonight."

I shut my eyes quickly as I felt them rolling in my skull. I bit my tongue to cut off the sarcasm that threatened to spill out:

"Of course, Sir. Best behavior, Sir. Shall I kiss one ass cheek or both, Sir?"

When I opened my eyes, his ice-blue eyes, as cold as the darkest winter's morning, pierced into me.

"Understood?" James asked.

I successfully resisted the urge to tell him to go fuck himself and nodded slightly and said, "Sure, thing." The contempt in my voice was so thick you could almost reach out and touch it in the air. His eyes narrowed slightly, but he refused to be drawn in and resumed his roving guard post.

A series of thundering booms rumbled from the direction of the stairs. My nose bristled at the stench of Calvin Klein cologne as my stepbrother Levi strutted into the room like he owned the place--technically, his dad owned it. His long legs carried him across the room in quick strides with his shoulders back and chest out. His eyes briefly fell upon the recliner where my mom was sitting.

"Not a chance, buddy,"

I started to say, just to needle him. Levi and I respected the recliner as James' chair, but whenever he wasn't sitting in it, it was up for grabs. My mom had beaten me to it this time.

Levi continued past the recliner and my location on the couch, our eyes meeting briefly. "Evening, Sophia."

"Levi," I said coolly. His name tasted like curdled milk on my tongue.

He flicked his eyes over me and then curled his lips in contempt. James had insisted on me wearing a dress for the evening. I rarely wore them, and the one I'd pulled out fit me about as well as if I'd draped my skinny body in a blanket.

Levi continued past the far end of the couch to the chair there. Why James hadn't bought two recliners instead of one didn't make much sense to me.

James marched to that side of the room and came to a stop in front of Levi. "I was just telling Sophia, I need you all on your A-game tonight. I know I can count on you to give me 110%."

"You got it, dad. I'm all in," Levi said.

James leaned forward and clapped him on the shoulder. "Good man. That's what I like to hear."

This time, I was unable to shut my eyes before I rolled them.

The doorbell rang a few minutes later. James' body seemed to stand even straighter. When he turned to us, Levi and my mom got to their feet. When I didn't budge, James' eyes settled on me, darkening with each passing moment. With a heavy sigh, I pushed my body forward and stood. It was stupid. They were just a couple of city council members, not the British Royal Family.

James swung the door open and greeted them, a man in a suit with neatly combed white hair and a woman in a dress far too elegant for a house dinner. Her long, dangling earrings looked like they should be hanging from a chandelier instead of her ears.

"Welcome, thank you for coming," James said with a tone that matched his posture. He greeted both guests with handshakes.

"Thank you, Major Davidson," said the man as he stepped inside.

The woman followed him in, her eyes sweeping the room. "Such a charming and lovely home."

"Indeed," James replied, "we take pride in our home."

I caught my rolling eyes just in time as the woman's gaze settled on me. "And a charming and lovely family," she said, although her tone didn't carry the same lightness as when she'd remarked on the house.

James introduced my mom and then Levi. He introduced me almost as an afterthought. The woman's face lit up as Levi stepped forward to shake her hand.

Good grief.

She was at least twice his age but was turning into mush. You'd think she'd never seen muscles, high cheekbones, and a well-defined jawline before. Personally, I'd never been a fan. He looked less like an 18-year-old boy and more like a killer cyborg sent through time to murder women and children. It also didn't help that he had the personality of a box of cereal.

My mom went into the kitchen to put the final touches on dinner while the rest of us waited in the living room. James regaled the councilmembers with tales of Levi's football exploits from the past season while I tried to think of a way to fake a medical emergency.

Over dinner, James turned to boasting about his recent exploits at the police department. "Did I mention the recent accolades our division received?" The councilmembers nodded attentively as they carved their roast. "Armed robberies are down 57% year-to-date. Why? I'll tell you why. The name of the game is 'order.' It means every officer doing their part, functioning like a cog in a machine."

"That's very impressive," the white-haired man said.

I slumped in my chair, weary with boredom. As I poked at my mashed potatoes, my gaze lifted and happened to drift across the table to where it met Levi's steel-gray eyes. I widened my eyes and raised my eyebrows as if to ask, "What in the fuck are you staring at?"

He snapped out of his haze and looked around before returning his eyes to me. He lifted his hand to his face and scratched his brow with his middle finger. If we hadn't had guests, I would've told him the feeling was mutual.

"It sounds like you run a pretty tight ship in your division," the woman said.

James nodded. "It all comes down to discipline. With disciplined officers, you can accomplish anything. It's no different than the way I run this home. Discipline. Without it, what do you have? Chaos."

Levi flipped me off again as he scratched his chin.

"Well, chaos is the natural state of the universe," I said, speaking for the first time. "Sometimes, the appearance of order and discipline hides lawlessness."

James whipped his head around to me. He pursed his lips but remained silent. I was sure he'd get me for that later.

When dinner ended, Levi and I pushed our chairs back, and said, "May I be excused?" almost in unison. James responded with a nod, but I was already inching down the side of the table, matching Levi's movements. I knew where he was headed--or at least, where he thought he was headed. But I'd thought ahead. Brains over brawn. By sitting on the side of the table nearest to the living room, I had a head start.

As I reached the doorway from the dining room, my eyes fixed on the recliner. It almost seemed to glow in the light of the living room. I broke into a run, my heels clicking and clacking on the hardwood floor. I rarely wore them, and it felt like I was about to fall out of them. But I wouldn't be denied. I could feel Levi hot on my trail, his longer strides quickly closing the distance.

I reached the recliner a step before him and threw myself into it, but his larger, stronger body collided with mine, rattling every bone in my body as he crashed into the seat next to me. The force of our collective bodies almost tipped the chair over backwards. I grabbed the right arm of the chair as Levi's body nearly sent me up and over it.

"Move, Levi," I growled, "I was here first."

"Make me," he shot back as he jostled against me.

I was quickly losing ground in the war for the chair. I shifted my body and sank my arm deep down within the cushion. I grabbed a metal bar somewhere near the bottom. Levi wasn't getting this chair unless it was over my dead body. He'd have to take my arm off to make me move.

"Seriously, Sophia? This isn't your throne, princess. Move." He threw his shoulder against me, rocking me and the chair.

"Stop acting like a wild animal. Go sit somewhere else."

But like a wild bull, he reared back and then threw himself into my body again. I cried out in pain from the impact in my shoulder and torso as well as my arm which was still wedged down into the chair. He leaned back and threw himself into me again, sending a jolt a pain that radiated from one arm to the other. I let loose with a howl that shook the window panes.

James appeared in the doorway from the dining room, my mom at his hip and the councilmembers behind them. The alarm on their faces quickly faded as they regarded us in the chair with Levi pressing me into one side of it. The councilmembers looked on with curiosity while my mom's face displayed a look of concern. James' cheeks burned bright red, revealing the burning rage within him.

The councilmembers exchanged uncomfortable glances. "Maybe we should...," the white-haired man trailed off as Levi nudged me with his hip, pressing me harder into the arm of the chair.

"What are you doing?" James hissed. His words were directed at us both, but his eyes were trained on me. "Stop that!" His voice demanded compliance as only Major Davidson could. He stood with his arms locked at his sides and his shoulders squared like police barricades.

I felt Levi's body budge slightly as though he were about to get up and surrender the chair. He, like I, knew better than to defy his dad. But then his body sank back into the chair. Despite James' withering scowl, I made no effort to move either, but I was rapidly losing my nerve. The recliner, once a coveted throne from which I could rule over Levi, now felt more like an electric chair.

James took a threatening step toward us. "Get out of the chair!" he barked, now no longer concerned with keeping up appearances. His authority was being challenged and he wouldn't have it.

"More wine?" my mom offered to the councilmembers, trying to distract and pull them away from gawking at the car wreck in the living room.

"Thank you, Linda," the man said, "but it's getting awfully late."

James spun around on his heels. "I apologize for that. They're generally well-behaved." He turned and glared at us over his shoulder.

The woman fanned her hand at him dismissively. "That's nothing. I have three boys. My house is a constant warzone."

"Haha, I bet," James said, forcing an uncomfortable chuckle. He led them to the door where they exchanged pleasantries before the councilmembers departed. I watched their forms disappear through the frosted glass on either side of the door as James closed it. He turned slowly to face us. I braced for the impending firestorm as he stared at us, his face solid stone. Once again, I felt Levi's muscles flex as he started to get up but then remained seated. There was no use getting up now. The damage was already done.

For my own part, I was prepared to face whatever came next. This had been more than a battle for a chair. This had been a battle for respect. For the right to occupy space in a house that seemed determined to push me into its corners.

James raised a hand and pointed at me. "You two hooligans...you two may have cost me the Deputy Chief position." He stood and stared as if waiting for a response. But what was there to say?

"Sorry you don't get to become Lord of the Dickhead Brigade?

When I didn't say anything after several seconds, James wagged his finger at me and clenched his jaw. He looked like he was literally trying to prevent his body from exploding. After several more seconds when his body didn't burst into pieces, he turned and stomped out of the living room toward the hallway. I turned to my mom who was still standing in the doorway to the dining room and wringing her hands. She opened her mouth to speak, but her husband's thunderous footsteps returning to the room cut her off. She put her hand on her neck as if squeezing off the sound.

When I turned, James was stomping toward us, his face twisted with menace. I caught a flash of something metallic in his hands as he approached. He lifted a pair of handcuffs into the air above us and my mind flooded with confusion as he reached between us and grabbed my arm. He brought the handcuffs down with a quickness that almost defied physics. I yelped in pain as he slapped a ring around my wrist, the cold metal stinging my wrist. Before I had a chance to speak, he released my hand and grabbed Levi's arm before slapping the other handcuff ring onto his wrist, linking us together.

Levi was the first to speak. "Dad, what--"

"Silence!" James' voice boomed through the room and I felt Levi shrink back into the chair. He stood, glaring down at us, daring either of us to speak. When neither of us did, he spoke again. "Since you two want to sit in this chair together, then sit in the chair together." He turned and began walking away.

My mom stepped further into the living room. "James...I don't know..."

"Damnit, Linda, they need to learn."

My mom cast a sympathetic eye in our direction but remained silent. If there was one thing I'd learned in the time they'd been married, when James insisted on something, my mom could be counted on to fall in line behind him like a cowering servant. This time was no different.

With my mom's compliance gained, James turned back to us. "Goodnight," he said and stalked off. My mom lingered, wringing her hands again and looking at us with concern. "Let's go, Linda." My mom hesitated only a moment longer before following James up the stairs.

As their footsteps receded, my bewilderment became a mix of fear and anger as the reality of our situation finally started to crystalize. I had thought this was a cruel practical joke and he would return to take the handcuffs off, but he was gone.

Levi shifted in the seat next to me. I pushed back as much as my 100 pounds could muster, trying to reclaim some personal space, but the chair was made for half the number of people currently occupying it. Our legs knocked into each other, our elbows dug into each other's sides. Every bump and jab added to our combined irritation.

"Damn it, Sophia, could you sit still? You're like a restless toddler."

"You're no better," I responded. His body against mine made my skin crawl.

In our battle for space, I somehow forgot about the handcuffs and went to yank my arm away from him. The bite of the steel on my wrist was a painful reminder. I tried shifting again, but there was no position that didn't leave us pressed together. I let out a deep sigh and lay my head back against the chair. Levi fished his phone out of his pocket. I'd left mine on my bed earlier in the evening in my haste to get downstairs to claim the recliner.

Was this for real? How much longer was James intending to have this go on? There was no way he was going to leave us like this all night. But as the night crept forward, every horrible possibility seemed realistic. I was a prisoner in my own home. My limbs grew sore from our confined position. My wrist cried out in agony, the handcuffs feeling tighter as the night wore on. They seemed to be shrinking...along with my patience. Every attempt to relieve the pressure only resulted in a new ache.

I tried to distract myself. "The entropy of a closed system always increases," I whispered, reciting the second law of thermodynamics.

"What?" Levi said, looking up from his phone.

His presence was claustrophobic. Suffocating. Every breath of his seemed to steal air from my lungs. I let out a loud huff and glared at him.

"Are these accommodations not up to your standard, Highness?"

I boiled over. "Oh, fuck you."

"Not in your wildest dreams," he retorted. "Not even with someone else's dick."

Ouch.

His response ripped a hole through my chest that immediately began to fill with the self-doubt, self-criticism, and poor self-esteem that ran my psyche. Not that it was unwarranted. I was bottom of the barrel. That's why he'd said what he did. But I wasn't about to let him know he'd struck a nerve.

"Probably for the best," I shot back. "I wouldn't want to catch syphilis from one of your whores."

He responded by shoving me into the chair arm and claiming additional space. I didn't bother trying to fight back. I was exhausted. My feelings were hurt. I just wanted to go to sleep and end this nightmare.

We settled back into silence, the only sounds coming from the tick of the grandfather clock and our breathing. I closed my eyes and focused on the rhythm of my breathing, trying to pull my mind away from my physical torment. But every time I felt like I was touching the edge of sleep, I felt him shift or felt his muscles tense, and I was reminded of my body's predicament.

"Comfortable?" he asked, further reminding me of our ordeal.

"Just peachy," I said. Remembering his earlier sexual dig, I went a step further. "Your cologne game could use work. If I'd known I'd be subjected to it all night, I would've begged your dad to leave a face mask."

"I don't wear it to impress science nerds."

"I'm surprised it impresses anyone."

Once again at a loss for words, he responded by changing our seating dynamic. He shifted his body and tried to reposition our linked arms which caused us both to wince in pain. He settled back in and we resumed our silence.

The night stretched on, each tick of the clock pounding against my skull like a hammer. Every tick sent a wave of helplessness over me, and my body ached more fiercely with each passing minute. Even Levi, once smug and dismissive of our circumstances, was wearing down. His breath, previously steady and defiant, had become labored.

"Thinking about your next big chemistry project?" Levi's voice was an unpleasant buzzing like a housefly that disappeared when you swatted at it, only to return as soon as you forgot about it.

"Yes, actually. Just going over an equation in my head," I lied. After a pause, I added, "Unlike some people, my future isn't being handed to me on a silver platter."

"Blow me," he responded.

"No thanks. I don't want to catch herpes either."

His muscles tensed, and I braced for him to make another attempt to seize another inch of the chair's real estate, but exhaustion had apparently claimed him. He remained in place.

I shared in his fatigue, but neither of us slept. Not much. Our discomfort wouldn't allow it. And so we lay there, against each other, drifting in and out of consciousness until the first whispers of dawn crept into the room. At some point, I'd slipped far enough beneath the edge of sleep that I'd rested my head on Levi's shoulder. His head was resting against the top of mine.

He stirred as I shifted. "Guess we made it," he said. His voice was gravelly with sleeplessness.

"Yes, seems like it." I glanced at the floor as the rays of the morning sun filtered through the blinds.