My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 177: What Goes Around...

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The morning air nipped at my cheeks as I stood still on the wide stone steps of Brookstone High, the huge brick building towering over me like it had somehow grown taller overnight.

Students rushed by in noisy waves, laughter bouncing off the columns, backpacks thumping against shoulders, car doors slamming in the lot but everything felt muted, distant, like I was underwater.

Like I was drowning once again.

Every breath tightened my chest, and a familiar panic crept up my spine, my mind racing through every worst-case scenario. Vanessa and her crew could be lurking anywhere, ready to sneer, shove, or whisper just loud enough for me to catch it.

And, even worse, Patrick, Jace, and Liam could be lurking inside some dark hallway, having recovered enough from Adrien’s beating to finish what they had started at the party.

That morning, I had stood in front of my mirror for almost twenty minutes, my uniform half-buttoned, seriously contemplating whether to fake a stomach bug or a migraine or anything that would let me crawl back into bed and hide under the covers.

But the thought of Mom’s worried eyes and Keith asking gently if everything was really okay, the two of them exchanging those silent adult glances that meant they were close to digging deeper—stopped me in my tracks.

I couldn’t risk more questions, especially since I was already carrying secrets heavy enough to crush me. So, I forced myself out the door, gripping the straps of my backpack so tightly my knuckles turned white during the drive.

Now, standing here, each step toward the entrance felt like wading through quicksand. Adrien had assured me they wouldn’t touch me again. Ethan had made the same promise, his voice calm and reassuring over the phone last night. But promises felt fragile when flashes of rough hands and dark corners still haunted my mind.

I took a shaky breath, then another, and finally pushed through the heavy front doors.

Fuck this, being scared won’t help anyone.

The hallway smelled like floor wax and cafeteria bacon, lockers slamming in chaotic rhythm as everyone rushed to beat the bell. I kept my head down, weaving through the crowd toward my locker, my heart pounding so loudly I thought surely someone else could hear it.

I spun the combination with trembling fingers, yanking the metal door open more forcefully than necessary, reaching for my geography textbook when whispers behind me sharpened into focus.

"...my uncle works nights at the Willow Haven Police Department," I recognized Layla from Physics class’s voice, low but excited, the kind people use when sharing something juicy.

"He told me they brought in Patrick, Jace, and Liam yesterday. Like, full-on arrested with actual handcuffs and shit."

I froze, my textbook half-pulled from the shelf, as the other two girls, Sophie and Mia, I think—gasped in unison.

"No fucking way," Sophie whispered. "For what?"

Layla glanced around before leaning in closer. "Creating and distributing... you know... videos. Of raping unconscious girls and selling them online on the dark web to creeps. Apparently, someone mailed an anonymous memory card straight to the station, and when they checked it..." Her voice dropped even lower. "Fifty videos, guys. Fifty."

Mia made a strangled sound. "Fifty? That’s... insane. How could they even—"

"Damn, that’s horrible!" Sophie exclaimed.

"Shh! Keep your voice down, if anyone else finds out I’m literally cooked!" Layla said.

"This is Willow Haven! News travels faster than my dad when he gets a new side chick, they’ll find out anyway." Sophie responded with an eye roll.

"Anyways they’d throw these parties," Layla continued, her words tumbling out faster now, "get girls drunk or slip something in their drinks, and then... film it. Sell access on some dark web site or whatever. My uncle said the evidence is airtight. They’re eighteen, so there’s no juvenile protections—they’re looking at real time. Twenty years, maybe more."

Sophie hugged her books to her chest, looking pale. "Thank God we never went to those stupid lake house things they threw. I always thought they were just bragging about hookups, not..."

"Not this," Layla finished, her voice shaking. "There are probably girls here at Brookstone who don’t even know they’re in those videos. Girls who woke up the next morning feeling off and never understood why. My uncle says the evidence is so solid that not even their rich daddies can save their disgusting asses from going to jail."

"Good," Mia said. "God, I think I’m going to be sick! Those freaking monsters!"

Their voices faded as they drifted down the hall, sneakers squeaking against the tile, but I stood frozen, the textbook forgotten in my weak grip. Shock washed over me in cold, numbing waves.

Fifty videos.

Fifty girls if not more...

I wasn’t the first victim...or almost victim if you’d call it that. I hadn’t been special or random or whatever twisted thing I’d feared. I’d been next on a list...a long, horrifying list. If Adrien hadn’t shown up that night, if he hadn’t fought them off... my face could have been on that memory card too.

My life could have been shattered in ways I couldn’t even begin to imagine.

But someone had stopped them. Someone anonymous had gathered proof and sent it straight to the police.

Adrien’s bruised knuckles flickered in my mind, the fierce way he’d looked at me afterward, the rage still simmering in his eyes. Could he have...? No. He’d been with me, then home, then... but he’d had time. And motive. And that protective fury that might push someone to make sure those boys never harmed anyone again.

Or it could’ve been someone else entirely. Another victim. A friend. A guilt-ridden accomplice. It didn’t matter.

They were caught.

Finally, finally caught.

The bell rang overhead, sharp and insistent, snapping me out of my daze. I shoved my book into my bag with shaking hands, slammed the locker shut, and leaned my forehead against the cool metal for a moment, letting both relief and horror wash over me in equal measure.

The hallway emptied around me as everyone hurried to class, but I lingered there a little longer, breathing through the storm inside my chest. The fear wasn’t gone—not completely, but for the first time since the party, a small, fragile sliver of justice had broken through the darkness.

And that felt almost like breathing again.

𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯’𝔰 𝔯𝔞𝔪𝔟𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰

Merry Christmas, loves!!🎄🥳

Here’s a bonus of five Chapters!!!