Hot Bastard Next Door: A Boy Next Door, Second Chance Romance

by Rye Hart

  “Get out,” my mom said. “Both of you.”

  She threw her wine glass at the door, missing Sebastian, but just barely. It hit the wall and shattered into a million pieces that sprayed all over the foyer. I stared at him, and then back at my mom, completely dumbfounded.

  “You don't mean this.”

  But Sebastian took my arm and led me away, pulling me out the door as I stared at the wreck of my mom.

  “She doesn't mean this,” I argued with him.

  “No, she doesn't,” he said. “But she needs time. And there's no reason you need to stay there and put up with her emotions and abuse. You're done coddling your mother, Violet. You've protected her for too long. Now it's my turn to protect you.”

  As much as it hurt to leave that afternoon, I knew he was right. I knew my mother just needed some time.

  It took some time, but my mother eventually took my calls. I was living with Sebastian, and honestly, things were going very well. I just wanted to patch things up with my mother. I was no longer working as Sebastian's assistant, since he felt that might be a conflict of interest. I was working for another company, a job Sebastian helped me land, and that was going extremely well also. I was able to work my way up faster than I thought possible, and I didn't have to worry about it being because I was sleeping with the boss.

  I called my mom the day I got the news of my promotion, not expecting her to answer. But she did.

  “Mom,” I said, my voice cracking. “I miss you.”

  She was quiet for a few moments, but finally she answered me. “I miss you too, baby girl.”

  The tears fell, from both of us, as we talked.

  “I didn't mean for this to happen,” I said. “It just did. And I wouldn't take it back for the world, but I also don't want to lose you. You're the only family I have left.”

  “Do you love him, Violet? Truly love him?”

  “Yes,” I said, not even taking a moment to question that. “I do. With all of my heart. And he loves me, mom.”

  She sighed. “He's right, you know.”

  “About what?”

  “I heard what he said to you as you were leaving. How you were done coddling me. He was right. All these months, you were the one taking care of me, when I should have been the one taking care of you.”

  “I wanted to do that, mom,” I said.

  “I know, honey, but you weren't supposed to. I'm the mother,” she said. “And when I kicked you out, it was all over my own feelings again. I was so caught up in how I was going to lose you, and I pushed you away.”

  “I'm still here, mom,” I said. “I always will be.”

  “And I'll always be there for you too,” she said. “And if it means I have to come to terms with accepting Sebastian, well, I guess I'm the one with some growing up to do. It's just hard to imagine my baby girl with someone old enough to be her father.”

  “He makes me happy, mom,” I said. “And treats me very well.”

  My mom was silent for a few minutes. “I don't doubt that, Violet. Sebastian is a good man, I have no doubt about that.”

  Hearing her say that filled me with hope.

  “Maybe you two should come over for dinner soon,” my mom said. “I'd really like to see you again, Violet.”

  “I'd like that,” I said. “And I bet Sebastian would like that too, mom.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - VIOLET

  As I stared down at the pink stripes, the answer was clear. This was the second test I'd taken that day and had gotten the same results. Sebastian sat beside me as I stared down at the test then back up at him.

  “Positive. I'm guessing two false positives in a row isn't likely.”

  I was shaking. Sebastian and I had never talked about having children together. After all, we were just getting started on living together. It became something of a necessity after my mom had kicked me out. A necessity that became a blessing in disguise.

  Tears welled up in my eyes. Yes, I wanted kids, and the idea of having kids with Sebastian seemed nice, but things with us were still relatively new. And I had no idea how he felt about any of it.

  “Shhh,” he said, pulling me into him, kissing my forehead. “It's going to be okay.”

  “I need to talk to my mom,” I said.

  For some reason, finding out something big like that – that I was pregnant – made me yearn for my mother even more. We had dinner scheduled later that evening, but I wasn't sure that would be the best time to make the announcement that she might be a grandma. She was just beginning to try and accept us as a couple, so there was that. That was a lot for her.

  But as I stared up at Sebastian, I feared maybe he had other plans; plans that didn't include keeping the baby. I tried to get a feel for his thoughts, but without him saying much, it was more than a little difficult.

  “Sebastian,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I don't know how you feel about being a father, and I understand if you don't want to be a dad. But whatever happens between you and me, I can't – ”

  Before I could finish, I broke down in a fit sobs. The idea of aborting our child filled me with dread. It was weird ,before I even knew for sure I was pregnant, when it was just a matter of my period being late, I knew I wanted the child. Part of me was so happy to see the results, but of course, I was also fearful of what it might mean for my relationship with Sebastian.

  I continued, “Whether you want to be in the child's life or not, I'm still going through with it.”

  I was strong. I could do this. Even if it meant being alone, I could and would do it. Sebastian stared at me, a serious look on his face, but then he smiled at me. And in that smile, there was so much hope.

  “I was hoping you'd say that,” he said. “I didn't want you to feel obligated though. You're so young and have so much life to live still. But I don't have as much time to be a dad. And well – ”

  “So you're happy about this?” I asked, suddenly feeling my pulse racing and a sense of genuine joy spreading through my body.

  “Yes, I am actually,” he said, appearing surprised at his own answer. “Very much so.”

  “So this is it,” I said, letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding. “We're going to have a baby.”

  “We're going to have a baby,” he said, taking my hands in his.

  ***

  “Wouldn't you like some wine, sweetie?” my mom asked, pouring a glass for herself and Sebastian. I looked over at Sebastian and he looked at me. I wasn't sure if we were going to tell her tonight or not, even though I was bursting at the seams to share the news. I was afraid she might not take it too well. Things were moving a little fast.

  “No thank you,” I said, sipping my sparkling water. “I'm trying to drink more water.”

  “Good girl,” she said, smiling at me. “You were always such a good influence on me.”

  I tried to keep my mom eating healthy, even after what happened to dad. She sunk into a pit of despair and often turned to wine and chocolate to soothe her feelings, and I was there to convince her to replace her wine glass with bottled water, her chocolate with something that might better fill her stomach.

  I looked down at my hands, not wanting to look at either her or Sebastian, afraid I might give something away by the guilt written on my face. I hated keeping anything from my mother, and this was something huge. Sebastian reached over and took my hand, squeezing it. As I looked up into his eyes, I couldn't help but smile.

  We were having a baby.

  Such joyous news, and I was dying to share it with my mother. More than anything.

  “Go ahead, if you'd like,” he whispered to me.

  “Now?” I mouthed.

  “What are you two lovebirds whispering about?” my mom said, obviously trying to show she was okay with our new relationship, but it still came out awkward and stilted.

  “Uhh well, Sebastian and I have some news to share,” I said. My hands were shaking, but Sebastian kept them still and calm in my lap by holding onto them for dea
r life. “I know it seems really sudden, but sometimes, things happen and well, we're having a baby, mom. You're going to be a grandma.”

  My mother dropped the wine glass to the table with a loud clank and stared at me slack jawed. She looked between Sebastian and myself, and I feared the worst. She was going to flip out and kick us out again, I just knew it. I had to prepare for the worst, but this time, Sebastian was here for me. He would take care of me and we'd leave, if it came to that.

  “You're pregnant? But-- How?” My mom cringed at her own question. “No, don't answer that. I really don't want to know. Are you sure?”

  “Yes, mom. We're sure. It's unexpected, but were happy,” I said.

  My mother looked at Sebastian, then back at me. I watched the wave of emotions cross her face, and I feared the worst. But she kept her cool, and I had to commend her for that. “Wow. So I'm going to be a grandma? Well, I didn't expect this, but congratulations, honey. That's great news.”

  Sebastian cleared his throat, and both my mother and I turned to him.

  “I just wanted to say,” he said, turning to me, “That while things have moved incredibly fast between your daughter and I, that I fully intend to keep my promise to you, Angela.”

  “What promise?” I asked, turning to look at my mom. She looked as confused as I did.

  Sebastian pushed the chair back from the table, and before I knew what was happening, he got down on one knee and pulled out a ring. My heart pounded in my chest as I started crying before he even said the words. “Oh God.”

  “Violet, I intended to ask you anyway, but after what we found out today, I figured there was no time like now,” he said. “Will you marry me?”

  I stared into his eyes, and it took me a moment to realize this was real. That he was really asking me to marry him, and I barely managed to mutter, “Yes,” before we embraced, kissing and nearly forgetting about my mom sitting across from us.

  As soon as I remembered where we were, I looked over and she was also crying. For the first time in I don't know how long, she was crying happy tears.

  “Thank you,” I whispered to my mother.

  “I just want you to be happy, sweetheart. And obviously, he makes you very happy.”

  And in that moment, I realized something very important, something I never thought possible.

  Yes, Violet. Dreams can come true.

  The End

  Tough as Nails

  Chapter One

  Have you ever met someone so royally screwed up that they could lie and cheat without feeling any morsel of regret? Well, if you haven’t - allow me to introduce myself. My name is Brittney Dale and I try hard not to blame others for the way I turned out, but then again, I can’t really take all of the credit myself either.

  My mother was, for lack of a better word, a whore for Chaos Theory, the local motorcycle club. She used to tell me stories from before her dark days - stories of my father. She claimed he was a fine, upstanding man with plenty of money and a big house. When I was younger I liked to live in that fantasy, but as I got older I began to realize it was all a lie.

  I eventually found out who my father was. His name was Billy and he was one of my mom’s Johns. When she came to him for help after discovering her pregnancy, he drove her to a women’s shelter and that’s where she lived for the nine months she carried me. She always boasted that she stayed clean during her pregnancy, though I didn’t believe that for a second. It was a miracle I had both ears and two working arms.

  After I was born, mom got kicked out of the shelter for using drugs and she started wandering from hotel to hotel, turning tricks to try and keep us off the street. For years that’s how it was. We wandered from city to city, scrounging through dumpsters and sleeping on park benches. Sometimes she managed to pool enough money to get us a hotel room for the week. I remember how much I loved that. I would sit in the hot bath water until my skin turned an angry red. It was the only time I felt clean in those days.

  I never went to school because we never stayed in one place long enough for the government to catch up with mom. Whenever the local cops came knocking, we took off to another city. We spent my entire childhood bouncing around wandering through the Deep South until we eventually made it to Tennessee.

  When we started living in Nashville, I was only about nine. According to my mother I was old enough to take care of myself. She would go away for days and leave me without food or money, so I did the only thing I could. I would go to the local grocery store and take what I needed. No one really suspected that a young girl was coming to their store to steal, so it was always rather easy to just walk in and grab whatever I wanted.

  The day I was caught, was the day my life changed forever. One of the stores I’d been frequenting finally caught onto me and the store owner snatched my arm and called the cops. When I explained the situation to the police, they started snooping around. While they never found mom, they did discover my living situation and took me into protective custody.

  I was put into the foster system immediately and that began the worst eight years of my life. And considering how the first nine years were, that’s really saying something. They never found my mother and so she never went to jail. I was left trying to navigate a system I didn’t understand with tools that weren't considered acceptable.

  My mother, when she was around, never got angry when I lied or stole. There were no repercussions. Now I was suddenly living in a world with incredibly strict rules that I struggled to conform to.

  All of a sudden there was dinner time, bath time, and bedtime. I couldn’t take three showers a day like I'd been used to doing, and I had to eat what the foster home made, when they made it. If I wasn't hungry at dinnertime, I didn't eat until breakfast.

  Looking back on it, I understand that everyone did their best. They were trying to provide structure and discipline, but that wasn't how I understood it. You couldn't take a kid who'd spent their entire life trying to survive on their own and expect them to just assimilate. That's just wasn’t how it worked.

  School was even harder. I started going to classes that I didn’t really understand. I was nine, so they put me with the rest of the nine year olds, but I hadn’t had any schooling up until that point. I read at a very basic level and math completely escaped me. Overall, I was far behind my peers and no one seemed to understand that it was because I’d never sat in a classroom before. My teachers all thought I was stupid or just a flat out bad kid. I tried for a long time, but eventually gave up.

  Instead of paying attention in class, I just started slipping away and skipping school. I got in trouble for it many times, but I didn’t really care. I would go hang out with the older kids who seemed to like me well enough, though it was only because I was willing to steal candies and snacks for them.

  The foster home eventually got tired of my delinquency and I started bouncing around from home to home until my mother managed to find me. I hadn’t seen her in eight years, but I couldn’t resist her offer. She would take me away from the school and away from the foster homes. It was an offer that sounded too good to be true. I was so tired of all the fighting and yelling. I was tired of feeling unwanted and stupid. So despite all of the things she’d done when I was young, I happily went with her and joined the biker gang.

  It would become both the best and worst choice I’d ever make. Welcome to my life.

  Chapter Two

  The sun was rising and peeking through the window, warming my tanned skin. My mother was full blooded Native American and I was lucky enough to retain most of her genetics. My hair was long and black as raven’s feathers. I rarely brushed it and just left it wavy or pulled back into a pony tail. Men loved my hair. They always wanted to touch it (or pull it, depending on the situation), and they had a tendency to get lost in my eyes. They were as green as spring grass and with a flutter of my eyelashes I almost always got what I wanted.

  I wasn’t alone in the bed. I never was. Just like my mother, I’d turned to selli
ng myself for the basic necessities in life. By the time I joined the biker gang I was seventeen and considered an adult by most of the men, and as an adult I was expected to earn my keep. The convinced me that the only thing of value that I possessed was my body. I was scared at first. The first few times I cried, but soon enough I became numb to the physical and emotional pain and I just sucked it up.

  The leader of the gang, Fang, took a particular interest in me. Since he was the highest man on the totem pole, he got his pick of women. Mom and I weren’t the only women they kept around for pleasure. There were a good ten to fifteen women who regularly came around to look for cheap or free drugs. Well, the drugs were never free, but for most of them sex was a small price to pay for crank.

  I was the only one who wasn’t after drugs. I think it was one of the reasons I was in “high demand” as Fang put it. My skin wasn’t ruined and my teeth weren’t falling out of my head. That was more than most of the other women could claim. I didn’t blame them, though. Many of them had been born into situations like this. Many of them survived in utter poverty for so long that the drug induced haze they lived in was more of a defense mechanism than anything else.

  I didn’t think of myself as better than them, but the men did. I was strong and “feisty”. I hated when they called me that. It made me sound like some sort of animal they were just poking with a stick. It made my skin crawl.

  My eyes finally fluttered open and I sat up, running my hand through my hair. I turned and put my feet flat on the ground, looking around. Fang was naked in the bed beside me, his hairy chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. Maybe it was wrong of me, but sometimes I just wished he would stop breathing. This man made me feel trapped and I hated it. I wanted to run but I had nowhere to go. At least here I had a roof over my head and food in my stomach. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than being homeless.