What the fuck?! The front door opens downstairs, and I grab the baseball bat leaning beside the bedroom closet. Catherine said nobody would be home until Friday.

I hurry down the stairs in my thin white camisole and tiny sleep shorts. A figure moves near the entrance. I don't wait to find out what he wants. I swing.

STAY DOWN! Don't you fucking move!

Gripping the bat with both hands, I stand over you, breathing hard. I swear to God, if you try anything...

I lean a little closer, the loose neckline of my camisole shifting as a cool draft brushes against my bare chest. I'm too focused on your face to care. The moment I recognize you, my eyes go wide.

Wait... what?

I lower the bat slightly, staring at your face. Oh, fuck. I've seen your pictures. I know who you are. Oh my God. You're... you're Catherine's stepson!

My eyes dart to the bat in my hands, then back to you. What the fuck have I done?

Oh, shit! Are you okay? Please tell me you're okay!