I ran a hand through my hair while I paced in front of her bed. Pissed as hell at her dad. Angry he’d hurt her. Furious I couldn't fix it. And I’d never cared enough about anyone else outside of my mom and Arlo to ever give a shit.
My phone beeped. Then beeped again.
Hendrix: Where are you at, dickweed?
Hendrix: Wolf and me made a bet you’re getting your dick sucked.
“You gave me a Push Pop.”
I shoved my phone in my pocket and turned around to Drew standing in the doorway of her bathroom. The straps of her dress hung off her shoulders, and the look on her face was pitiful.
“Yeah…”
“It’s the only thing that made me happy today.”
And that was sad as shit. “There’s a Porsche in your drive and my Push-Pop made you happy. That’s messed up. That Push-Pop was two bucks.”
“The car’s pink. My mom doesn’t even know I hate pink.” She pushed away from the doorframe, staggered to her bed, and collapsed on top of the covers. “But you know I like rainbow Push-Pops. Not grape or cherry. But rainbow.”
I was pretty damn sure, her dad forgetting her birthday had to make her feel invisible. I sank to the bed beside her, rubbing a hand over her exposed back. I didn’t want her to feel invisible. “I’ll buy you all the rainbow Push-Pops you want, baby girl.”
She looked up from the comforter and smiled.
“You gotta get out of this thing.” I helped her sit up, slowly pulling her dress over her head. I skimmed my hand along her side. The way I felt with her--like something missing was right there--it was something I couldn’t ignore anymore. “I really do fucking like you.”
“I like you too,” she whispered.
“Good.” I kissed her forehead, then pulled my shirt over my head and tugged it over hers. “Come on,” I laid back on the bed, bringing her down onto my chest.
“Thank you.”
“For what?” I swept my hand through her tangled hair.
“For being nice.”
“Only to you, baby girl. Only to you…”
37
Drew
“Drucella Morgan!”
I jumped awake, then groaned, and face planted my pillow.
“Go away,” I mumbled into the cotton. My head felt like it was in a vice while my stomach churned, threatening to rebel.
“Get the hell out of my house!”
I bolted upright to find my dad standing in the doorway, glaring.
Panic worked its way through me when I glanced over at Bellamy, shirtless, tattooed and with a smirk that said he didn’t give a shit he’d just been caught in my bed in nothing but his boxers.
Mortification was not the word. I was in such deep shit.
I dragged a hand through my bird’s nest hair as I shoved out of the bed, wearing Bellamy’s shirt.
“I come home to find the house ruined. Again. And you with this...this…” My dad gave Bellamy a nasty once over, and I knew exactly what he was thinking--What he saw.
Muscles, tattoos, piercings. Bellamy had bad written all over him.
“This boy,” he spat the word. “In your bed. Drucella, you are out of control!”
“Can you give me five minutes?” I went to the door and tried to push him out into the hall. “Then we’ll talk about it.”
“I didn’t raise you to act like a whore!”
He might as well have slapped me, and I didn’t know what to say. He was rubbing salt in the wound he’d already inflicted by forgetting my birthday.
Dad’s gaze shifted behind me. Bellamy’s hand touched my waist, pulling me back so he could place himself between my father and me.
“You’re a fucking asshole,” he said.
I went to move, but Bellamy held me in place.
“And you, young man, are not welcome in my house. Taking advantage of my daughter…”
Two seconds ago, I was a whore…
“Just a birthday present.” Bellamy laughed, his hand coming back around my waist and tugging me against his side. “Because you see, I didn’t forget it was her birthday.”
I’m sure my face turned twelve shades of red. My dad’s sure did.
“Get out of my house.” My father rubbed at his chest on a heavy breath. “Before I call the police!”
“Sure thing.” Bellamy tugged on his jeans, zipping them as he cupped my cheek. “Get dressed. We’re leaving.”
“You are not leaving with him,” my dad snapped. The anger in his voice caused me to flinch.
I knew exactly who I wanted to be around right now, and it wasn’t the man who forgot about me and called me a whore. Consequences be damned.
I went into my closet, quickly threw on a sundress and a pair of shoes, and came back out before they had a chance to kill each other.
Bellamy took my hand, pulling me toward the door. But my dad didn’t budge.
“You asked me to leave,” Bellamy said, an edge to his voice I’d never heard. He stepped forward, towering over my dad. “You gonna move or what?”
A trace of fear showed on my dad’s face seconds before he backed up. Slightly.
Bellamy knocked his shoulder as he led me into the hall.
We made halfway down the hall before my dad started after us. “Drucella! You are not leaving with that reprobate!”
Bellamy turned to face him, walking backward down the hall. “I know you forgot, but she’s eighteen now. She doesn’t have to do shit you say.” Then he flipped him off just before we started down the stairs.
Nora was right. Bellamy was awful. And I’d never wanted anyone the way I wanted him right now.
He kicked empty bottles out of the way as we headed through the foyer.
“I wanted to punch him.” The door slammed behind us, his anger only growing as he dragged me toward his car. “Fucking asshole.”
He opened the passenger door, then climbed over the console to the driver’s side. “Fucking prick.” Jamming the keys into the ignition, he glared at my house while I climbed in.
I tossed my head back against the headrest. Honestly, I was so tired of fighting my dad every step of the way. Not like I didn’t know I was a nightmare child, but he didn’t give a shit about me, and that rejection by my own father had molded me into something bitter.
“Look at me.” Bellamy grabbed my chin, forcing me to face him. “You’re not a whore.”
Then he put the car in reverse and peeled off, leaving tread marks on my dad’s precious cobblestone drive.
“He shouldn’t talk to you like that.”
“He hates me,” I said. “It’s fine.”
The shock had faded. When I thought about it, I wasn’t really surprised my dad called me that. I’d almost become numb to his eternal disappointment.
“It’s not fucking fine.” Bellamy took a hard right, then floored it onto the main strip of the highway.
“It could be worse.” I knew his dad was an asshole. At least mine wasn’t violent.
By the time we pulled into Bellamy’s house, he wasn’t as tense. He shoved the key in the lock, and I turned back to stare at the empty drive.
“Is your mom here?” I asked before following him into his house.
“No. Grandpa took her and Arlo to some flea market over in Georgia yesterday.” He tossed his keys to the coffee table, then dragged a hand through his messy hair.
I watched him for a moment. No one had ever defended me or stood up for me, and they certainly hadn’t put themselves between me and my father’s ugly words. But Bellamy had. Whatever thread of resolve I was hanging onto, whatever excuses I had for avoiding this, evaporated.
I kissed him hard, tugging at his hair as my body bowed towards him like he owned it.
“You told my dad to fuck off.”
“Yeah.” He grabbed my hips. Then slammed his lips over mine in an angry kiss. “No one disrespects you.”
“What if I want you to?” I shoved his hand between my thighs.
A smirk pulled at his lips
. “I didn’t get you expelled yet,” he said, even though he was already lifting my skirt
“I told you our deal was off.”
“So you wanna be disrespected…” He placed a light hand on my throat, then yanked my underwear down with the other. “That’s what you want, baby girl?”
Hell yes, I did.
He shoved his fingers inside me as he backed me across the room. “Because as long as I’ve waited for this.” His fingers went deeper. “Fucking waited…”
He had, and so had I.
He pulled away from me just long enough to strip out of his shirt, then he was right back on me, hands between my legs and teeth raking over my neck.
By the time he backed me into his room, he had me completely naked and my body strung tight.
My legs hit the edge of his mattress. He shoved me back, covering my body with his.
Each brush of his hand over my bare skin sent the rabid need only Bellamy stirred within me spreading like wildfire.
My hands went to his zipper, tugging his jeans over his hips. When I fisted his hard dick, he groaned and reached for something on the floor. He moved back, his gaze set between my spread legs as he rolled a condom over his shaft.
“I’m gonna fuck you up so good,” he said. Then he shoved my legs beside my head and slammed into me without an ounce of mercy. Just like he promised. My breath caught as he stilled, buried inside me.
“God-fucking-damn.” His fingers dug into my legs in a bruising grip before his pace quickened. Every thrust hard and punishing, like he hated me and wanted me in equal measure.
I wanted more, for him to lose all control. “Thought you hated me,” I said, raking my nails over his broad back.
His teeth sunk into my shoulder on a thrust that had my breath catching in my lungs. “So much.”
Bellamy was everything I thought he would be and more. Brutal, raw, powerful. He made anyone before him seem tame and demure.
“Your pussy feels so good.”
My head hit the headboard with each thrust. A moan slipped from my lips, and heat built within me, tightening and coiling as I fought for breath.
“Do you like the way I feel inside you?”
I grabbed his ass on a moan, pulling him deeper inside as an answer.
“Tell me how good it feels.”
“So fucking good.”
“It’s about to feel a lot better.”
He went deeper. Harder. Brushing against me with each roll of his hips until my body fell apart. Like he’d dug his way so far inside me, he was plucking apart every fiber that held me together. And when he had me gasping for my next breath, every nerve ending burning bright, his hold on my hips tightened and he rolled over.
“Now. You get me off, baby girl.”
I moved over him, my entire body sparking like a live wire.
“Faster.”
He pulled and tugged at my hips, forcing me over him harder before he threw his head back on a deep groan.
The faster I moved, the more unhinged he became, until I felt mindless in the insanity of it.
His head jerked back on the pillow, abs tensing, grip tightening. The muscles in his shoulders strained as he let out a guttural grunt.
“Fuck…” His fingers flinched into my hips before he dragged me down on top of him.
“I really, really hate you,” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Like fucking really.”
I huffed a laugh. “I really hate you too.”
I lounged on Bellamy’s bed, wearing one of his shirts. A box of half-eaten pizza sat open in front of us, and I felt a million miles away from my actual life. I’d take Bellamy’s small bedroom over my dad’s colossal house any day. I wanted to stay in this bed eating greasy pizza forever.
“I wonder how much fun your asshole dad’s having cleaning that house up.”
“He’ll pay someone to clean it.” Actually, that was a lie. “Or he’ll make me pay for it. He can add it to my tab.”
He slid his fingers over my thigh. “You can stay here if you want. Fuck him off real good.”
“What about your mom?”
“She won’t care. Already texted her.”
My heart fluttered pathetically. What was it about this boy? He had nothing, and yet, he kept giving me everything. “Thanks. He’ll probably be leaving for work again tomorrow. He’s never there.”
“You could still stay…” His lips pressed to my neck. “I’ll make it worth your while, baby girl. Promise.”
And within a matter of moments, the pizza was on the floor and he had me undressed and pinned beneath him.
A door banged. Followed by Arlo shouting for Bellamy. Bellamy shot out of bed, butt naked, tripping over his shoes on his way to the door to lock it. The handle rattled.
“Bubba? Why do you got the door locked?”
“I’m studying.” Bellamy cocked a brow at me.
I stood up, throwing on clothes. “Is your mom here?” I whispered over the continuous rattling of the handle.
“I guess.”
“Oh my god.” His mom was here, and he was naked, and I was in his room probably looking like we just went ten rounds--because we had.
I threw his shirt at him. “Put clothes on.”
With a half roll of his eyes, he tossed his shirt back at me, then grabbed his jeans. “Calm down.”
The handle stopped shaking. “Momma. Bubba’s got a girl in his room! I hear her.”
“Shit.” I went to the window, trying to unfasten the latch, but it was rusted shut.
“What in the hell are you doing?”
“I don’t want your mom to find me in here,” I whispered, turning to look at him. “I look like a hoochy!”
“You’re my girlfriend. Not a hoochy. Jesus Christ.”
Girlfriend. Nora said it, he’d even half said it, but this was the first time he’d said it like that. Just casually. I’d avoided discussing it, happy in my little denial because I was going to college, and I did not need to be getting into a relationship. But I wanted it now. I really did.
Then he went to his door and unlocked it. Arlo immediately opened it. His gaze drifted from me to Bellamy to the bed. “Where are your books?”
“It was...mental math,” I said.
Arlo frowned, then dragged me to the hall. “You need to meet Momma.”
At those words, I grew nervous. What if she didn’t like me?
Bellamy took my hand from Arlo, continuing to lead me toward the kitchen.
A dark-haired woman moved around the dated, yellow cabinets. A kaleidoscope of bruises covered her face, and I swallowed around a sudden lump in my throat. I couldn’t help but pity her.
When her gaze shifted to Bellamy and then me, a smile spread over her lips.
“You must be Drew.” She opened one of the cabinets. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Carol.”
“Hi. Nice to meet you too.”
“Thank you for looking after Arlo last week. It was very kind of you.” Her gaze dropped, but not before I saw the trace of shame in her eyes.
“It’s no problem.”
“I told her you have a castle,” Arlo said, skipping around an old dog asleep on the kitchen rug.
As if sensing her discomfort, Bellamy leaned down and kissed her cheek. “You okay, Mom?”
It was sweet, completely at odds with everything he projected.
She nodded. Then rummaged through the cabinet, pulling out boxes. “Did work go okay today?”
Bellamy glanced away from me. “Yeah. It was fine.”
I was pretty sure she wasn’t asking her son how business was pushing dope.
“Where’s Pop’s at?”
“He dropped us off and went to the bingo hall…”
Bellamy helped his mom fix some sandwiches. After we ate, she left to take Arlo to the library and we went back to Bellamy’s room.
I fell back on the bed, wondering if maybe his mom did know he dealt weed. She didn’t have a problem with me being locked in his ro
om, maybe it didn’t bother her. “Does your mom know what you do for money?”
“Hell no.” He flopped onto the mattress beside me, grabbing a football from the floor and tossing it in the air.
“So she thinks you have a job?”
“She thinks me and the guys mow lawns.” Another toss of the ball. “For Barrington...because no one in Dayton could afford that shit.”
The image of him mowing his lawn that day when I was at Nora’s sprung to mind. All muscles and sweat. Hell, I’d pay him to mow my lawn. Shirtless. So would all those Barrington housewives. “I can see why that’s plausible.”
“And FYI, the shit money those rich assholes do pay to have their lawns mowed isn’t close to enough to cover bills. Because I did try it before I started dealing.”
“I’m not judging,” I said quietly.
I’d seen enough of Bellamy’s life now to know it was hard. There were enough people in this world making far more money than him, doing seriously immoral shit beneath the veneer of CEO or politician.
He tossed the football a few more times before flipping onto his stomach. “I don’t do it because I want to, Drew. I don’t wanna be that person.” His brows pulled together. “People do what they have to, you know?”
“I can’t pretend to understand.” I stroked my thumb over his cheek. Bellamy did some unsavory things, but the more I learned about him, I wasn’t sure how bad he actually was. Wasn’t this just survival? “But I can see it’s hard.”
He nodded to his dresser. “Open the top drawer.”
“Okay…” I got up and opened the drawer. An envelope stuffed with cash was tucked in the back corner amongst a nest of socks.
“That’s what pays the bills and has for the past two years. I seal it up and write our address on it and mail it to her. Because she sure as hell wouldn’t take it if I tried to just hand it to her.” He half-laughed. “Prays every night to bless whoever sends it. Hate to tell her the prayers don’t work.”
Bellamy was eighteen and bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“So just… whenever your dad tries to act like he knows who I am.” Seconds of silence ticked by while Bellamy stared at the ceiling. “That’s who I am. I steal and I deal and I fuck shit up, but that right there is why.”
No Good: A Standalone Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 23