Stealing First: (A Bad Boy Single Father Billionaire Novel)

by Weston Parker

  "Well, I've been talking with my advisors and they’re concerned about some of the threat's I've been getting lately."

  "Threats? Death threats?" The tight strain of his voice got my attention.

  "Yes, but please don't worry. I have full protection around me. The only part of me that's exposed to threat really is... well, you." He brushed his fingers over his eyebrows as if trying to get them to lay flat. It was his tale-tell way of trying to look cool in the midst of extreme nervousness.

  "Me? Wait... are you saying that you want me to have security detail too?" A tightness tugged at my insides that I’d only experienced a few times in my short life. Anything that felt like constraints left me struggling to breathe and ready to fight for my rights.

  "Yes, but just until we know if I'm in the primaries. If I'm not, which I highly doubt that I'll make it this time, we'll let him go."

  "Hell no." I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest. "There is no way I'm having some guy follow me out every time I go somewhere. I’m not in danger. Nothing has happened to me. I doubt they even know I exist Dad."

  "He would be with you twenty-four seven Chloe, and this really isn't a request, baby. I'm hiring someone. I cannot have something happen to you. Not after we lost your mother. You know all I've done to make sure you were protected and safe. I can't let something happen now, and don’t be a child. Of course everyone knows that I have a daughter, and that she’s you. That wouldn’t take much digging to uncover, Chloe."

  "I don’t care. It's not happening, Dad. You can say anything you want. I'm not having a shadow. It's creepy and I'm perfectly capable of defending myself. Keep your security guys with you and just let me live my life."

  "It's not that easy, and you know it."

  "Fine. I'll just disappear." I knew the minute I said it that me leaving wasn’t at all a possibility. It didn’t even feel good to throw it in his face. Bastard.

  I had nothing without him. Somehow he had made sure of that.

  Chapter 4

  Ian

  I got home a little after midnight, the girl bringing a few of her friends to the party in the lady’s room. I felt like shit for using them, but the same voice that pushed me farther and farther away from being a good guy piped up non-stop. It was a good reminder that I was nothing more than a piece of ass for them anyway. We were all at fault, so who was I to play the saint? I wouldn't even know where to begin if I had to walk that tight rope.

  Sinking down on the couch in my shitty little apartment, I flipped on the TV and stared at the static-filled screen for a few minutes before closing my eyes. I needed to get a little bit of sleep before tomorrow. I had an early afternoon shift and my brother had texted that the interview would be at ten a.m. in La Jolla. Seemed the good Senator knew how to live with the best of them. Maybe he could rub off on me.

  I reached for her like I always did when we finished making love. She jerked from me and laughed, sliding to the edge of the bed and glaring over her shoulder.

  "Don't." Her words were harsh, but I was almost used to them. She had never been anything but hateful. Why did I put myself through this shit again? Right. Love.

  "Baby, come back over here and let me hold you. You know I hate it when you leave after we make love." I brushed the bed just beside her, wanting so badly to pull her back into my arms. I just needed one night in her arms like we used to have. I just wanted one, but it was too much to ask for.

  "Ian. Stop acting like a fucking girl. We don't make love. We fuck. We haven't made love since we were kids and you had plans of actually making something out of yourself." She laughed and stood up, walking away from me to lean toward the mirror.

  I rolled onto my back and pressed my arm across my face. She was right. I was a piece of shit and deserved nothing more than a quick fuck by a crack whore, which is exactly what she had become... because of me.

  The girl who stole my heart in high school was long gone and this monster took her place. I stayed beside her, begging for attention simply because I needed redemption. I dragged her into the fucked-up world we lived in. I would take whatever she threw my way and ask for another serving of it.

  She turned as tears filled her eyes. I scrambled to my knees, the sheet falling and leaving me naked, our sex still covering my body.

  "What's the matter, baby?" I moved to the edge of the bed as she held up her hands, slapping at the air in front of her.

  "No. Stay back. Tell them to stay back, Ian. Don't let them get me. Don't let..." Her scream pierced me with such force that I had to cover my ears. I tried to get out of the bed to get to her, but I couldn't push past the force of her scream, the sound having personified into an entity much greater than me.

  I glanced up as blood began to trickle from her little button nose.

  "No. Stop it. Stop screaming, Mandy. You're busting the veins in your nose, baby." I moved toward the floor, but the ground simply sunk as my feet pressed into it. I grunted and pushed forward until her cries got to be too much.

  She cried out again. Blood poured from her nose and ears, her little puckered lips white and cracked, her eyes wild and hair half pulled out. She thrusted her arms toward me, palms up. I turned from her, closing my eyes at the sight before me. The track lines from the needles on her pretty flesh left it bruised and puffy with infection.

  "Look at me. Look at what I've become. Look at what you did to me." She screamed over and over as I began to cry, unable to help myself.

  I turned back and let out a scream that shook me to the core of my soul. "I know, baby. Forgive me. Please God, Mandy... forgive me."

  Jerking up from the couch, I gasped for air until I realized where I was. I pressed my head into my hands, the sweat covering me having dripped all over the leather couch and made a fucking mess. I got up and let out a long groan as I walked to the bathroom.

  "How long will I have to suffer the demons of my past?" I stopped by the bathroom and turned on the facet, leaning over and splashing water on my face. I hated to sleep, simply for that very reason. She was always there. Always waiting to remind me of what I'd done by bringing her into my world.

  "I fucking hate you," I growled at myself in the mirror and turned away, tugging a towel from the rack and moving to the bedroom. I changed into a pair of jogging pants and a t-shirt before going in search of my tennis shoes. A two-hour run on the beach would do me some good. Something had to give. It was three in the morning and I was officially done sleeping for the night.

  I walked out into the chilly morning air and slipped my ear buds into my ears, asking God for redemption for my past just in case he had a break in dealing with the sick and dying. Perhaps if he took a coffee break at the right moment, he would hear me and save me from the terror of my dreams. I had only loved one woman in my life and having to bury her because of my own addictions becoming hers left me unwilling to ever try again. Sex and work... sex and work...

  I turned the corner past my rundown apartments and picked up my speed, needing to burn everything from my mind. The interview with the Senator wouldn't be intimidating, simply because all I could be was me and if that wasn't enough, fuck it and fuck him too. I wasn't into playing games or pretending to be anything for anyone long-term. To get a piece of ass for an hour or so? Sure. I'd be a nice guy, but that wasn’t too far from the truth. It never served me well, and yet I couldn’t stop. The asshole persona only lasted so long.

  I thought back to my interview at the hospital when I’d scored my current job, trying to remember the details. I worked through all of the interview questions I could remember, and spouted out answers as quickly and truthfully as I could. I had some good examples of teamwork and having to deal with difficult people. If the Senator gave me a character test I'd pass with flying colors. I was a recovered drug addict.

  What personality did I need to have to get what I wanted? Easy enough, consider it done.

  The run went by too fast and I found myself in the shower, washing with expedience in hopes o
f getting there early. The memory of the night before with the girls in the bathroom rolled over me and I took a deep breath, trying to not beat myself up too much over it. They wanted an orgy and I simply complied. The sound of their combined moans as I drove into one of them, fingered another and sucked hard at the last one’s pussy was almost too much.

  I was a one-woman man. I always had been, even in the worst of times. Some part of my soul shriveled, not so much at the thought of using the girls, but at the stark realization that they’d used me.

  "I’m such a sick fuck," I growled at myself and dried off, working hard not to hate myself too much before meeting with Mr. Moore. He would see right through me if he was worth his weight in salt. If not... I'd have a new job by the end of the day. Babysitting a spoiled rich kid couldn't be too bad. Hopefully she was hot. That would help me get through the days if nothing else, but not too hot. Looks always had a way of pulling me into the shallow end of the pool. It wasn’t a dangerous place to be unless the little bitch had a personality, and God forbid, a heart. Then I was in serious trouble.

  ****

  I refused to wear a suit, it just wasn't me. The black slacks and long-sleeve button down monkey shirt was as good as it was going to get. My brother tried to talk me into a tie as I stood before him in his living room. He fucked with my hair until I pushed him off and grabbed my stuff.

  "It's going to be fine." I looked over my shoulder as I walked to the door.

  "I know. I just want what's best for you, Ian. You know that, man." He moved to the door and opened it wider, smirking at me and squeezing my shoulder. "Just be you, all right?"

  "That's all I can be. Anything else is too damn exhausting." I didn’t turn back to respond to his mumblings. He was a worry-wart, and I was his favorite topic to get an ulcer over.

  I walked out and threw my leg over my bike, enjoying the purr of the motor between my legs. The air rushed by me as if it had someplace to be and left me more at peace than I had been in the last day or so.

  I almost lamented when I made it to the long string of offices where the interview would be held moments later. A set of villains in monkey suits met me at the door, frisking me good before walking me down a long hall and stopping in front of the third door on the left.

  I kept a close watch where I was, and what everyone looked like. Call it a bad past that showed up a little too often. I wanted to be prepared for anything. The door opened and the Senator stood from behind a desk, walking around with a large smile on his face.

  "Ian Matthenson?" He extended his hand.

  "Yes, Sir. Nice to meet you." I shook it and gave him a tight smile.

  "Pleasure's all mine, son. Have a seat. This shouldn't take too long. I'm sure Cole informed you of what we're looking for?" He took a seat behind the desk and I sat on the edge of my chair, trying to look as professional as I could.

  "He did. Have you reviewed my background? I have a bit of a past, which I can explain if you think that would help you to understand me a little bit more."

  He held up his hand. "It's all good. I've walked through every step you've taken since leaving the foster care system. You're a good man who had a rough start. I see how hard you and Cole have worked to have a different future. The point was proven at the event a few weeks back when you risked your life to save mine. Your years of being truly wild seem to be long passed. Am I right in that?"

  "That is right, and I was just doing my job at the event, Sir." I nodded, trying like hell to press down the need to explain my fucked-up teenage years even more. He hadn’t asked about them, but simply made a reference to them. It was the nice way of passing over the bad shit and getting on to the good. I was all for it.

  "And you do it well. My daughter is... well, she's difficult." He glanced down at his hands and shook his head.

  "What young woman isn't?" I smiled, hoping to ease the tension of whatever might be racing through his mind.

  He chuckled. "Yes, I suppose you're right. She's a great girl, but having to live this life with me... well, anyway. I'll have you meet with her and then you can decide if you want the job."

  "It's just for the summer, right?"

  "For now it is. I'm going to be in the preliminary running for the presidential campaign this fall, but you never know if you'll make it that far. If I don't, we should be good for this to be short-term employment, but if not and things are working out, we can talk then.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “And I assume that Cole told you about the salary?"

  "Yes, Sir. It's more than generous."

  "Good. You'll be staying at the large beach house I'm renting for her in La Jolla as well for the summer should you decide to take the position."

  "I don't need to meet your daughter to decide. I want to help you out in any way I can. I'm a big supporter of yours and keeping you or..."

  "Chloe."

  "Keeping you or Chloe safe would be an honor. Honestly." I brushed my hand along my slacks, hating the scratchy-ass material they were made of. The girl couldn’t be that bad, and if she was, I wasn’t beyond showing her how to behave and teaching her why she should. She might not like it, but if I were a betting man, I would lay money on the fact that I could help her become the type of person her father wanted her to be. Or I could just spank her.

  Stop it. Shit.

  "Meet her first and then give me a call." He stood. "Thanks for your time today, Ian, and thanks again for keeping me above ground. I owe you a life debt."

  Chapter 5

  Chloe

  I suffered through the dinner with my father the night before, trying hard to change the subject to something that would leave us on good terms. I loved him, but he could push me from calm to pissed within seconds. Everything revolved around his career. Everything.

  Turning to smile at my best friend, Jessica, I tried to let the day before go. I would deal with my dad and his demands later, after a day of blowing my allowance at the mall. Fashion Valley was the place to be, the stores vast and the people beautiful. It felt like taking a step up in the world for some odd reason.

  "So... tell me about all the hot boys in L.A." Jessica popped her gum for the tenth time and I ground my teeth, forcing myself to not resort to being the spoiled ass I was in high school.

  "There are plenty of them, but San Diego has the same breed of men." I pulled a shirt off the rack and lifted it up to see what she thought.

  "Naw... that's way too big. Get a small size and show off your tits. They’re awesome, and you hide them far too much." She popped her gum again and picked up a pair of red heels that looked like they should have a tramp stamp on the bottom of them. "I've been wanting these all spring. My birthday was in March..."

  I rolled my eyes as she whimpered and brushed the shoes by her face. "Fine. I'll get them for you, but don’t tell anyone it was me. I’d never admit to buying those… not even for you."

  "You sure?" She checked the tag and gasped. "Chloe, these are like three hundred dollars. Forget about it. Shit. What are they made of? Gold fillings collected and chipped out of the mouths of orphan kids in India."

  I laughed loudly and slapped my hand over my mouth. She had no couth or class, and I loved her for it. She was the only thing in my life that brought me back down to reality when nothing else would. Too bad I didn’t get to see her too often.

  "It's cool. Stop whimpering and throw your gum away and I'll get them." I turned and picked up the same shirt again, just a smaller size. The shimmery pink material would be beautiful under the strobe lights of the club. I loved to dance more than anything else, so going to the club - every club - was a must.

  "You're really getting that?" Jessica pulled her gum from her mouth and flicked it.

  I turned and pulled her the other way as someone let out a soft gasp. "Dude. You can't do that. This is Nordstrom's for shit sake."

  "So? When you have money, you can do whatever you want." She shrugged. "I mean, I don't have any money, but you do and we're besties
; therefore, I have money."

  "Where did you hear that lie? Being rich doesn't get you anything but more headaches." I pulled her toward the checkout stand and put my shirt on the counter.

  She tossed her shoes up there without a care in the world. I swear the girl hadn't a single strand of guilt over forcing people to do her bidding. It had been the same in high school. She was the bully until she found out that I was wealthy and didn't put up with much. We'd been friends ever since. Funny enough, I could see her still being the bully in life.

  "What headaches do you have? Really? What color your nails should be or what guy you should turn down this week?" She poked me in the back.

  I turned and pinned her with a stare. "How about, 'who's going to try and kill my father this week’?"

  "Awe, damn, C. You're gonna throw that shit out?" She moved up beside me, tugging at the back of my hair. "I'm sorry. I was just teasing."

  "It's all good." I gave the lady my card as she gave me the once over. The shoes just didn't seem to fit my prim and proper look. I got it. "The latest is that my father wants me to take on a bodyguard, or really, he's assigning one to me. He's worried about me."

  "Oh my God. Seriously? Is the guy hot? You know all those great movies and books where the rich girl gets a bodyguard. They totally have anal sex in the shower and fall madly in love with each other, but that shit doesn’t happen until the girl almost dies. No dying on me or even faking it. How fucked up would that be if someone tried to take your ass out?"

  I couldn't help but laugh as the older lady in front of me stopped checking us out and turned to stare at Jess as her mouth dropped.

  "Ignore my friend. She doesn't get out much." I turned and gave her the 'cut it out' look.

  "Clearly," the lady murmured.

  "Don't hate, old lady." Jessica leaned forward and popped another piece of gum in her mouth, smacking it loudly as the clerk's lip turned up in disgust.