by G. Bailey
"So how does it feel to be eighteen, guys?" Izzy asks before she takes a drink with her hand that isn’t wrapped up still. Izzy has lost all the bruises and cuts on her face. I’ll be glad when her arm is better; she is stuck with a light bandage because of problems with the break healing. We don’t have to be reminded of that night every time I see that bright-blue cast at least, but I'll be happy when she is better, either way.
"Oh, like I’m seventeen again," I say, but I can’t stop thinking of my last birthday. I spent it with Maisy. It still surprises me how much even thinking her name causes my heart to scream in fucking pain, it wouldn’t surprise me if there was a knife bloody stabbing me right now. She is the only girl I loved from the moment I saw her, but she is gone, and I doubt I’ll ever see her again.
"Boring," Elliot says and smiles at Izzy. It’s good that my twin’s relationship with Izzy has improved because of that night. I guess the fear of losing her made him realise how much he loves her like we do.
"Come on, it must be fun. How’s the bar going?” Izzy asks.
“It should be open in a few months. I want you all there for opening night,” he says, and Izzy’s face lights up as she nods at him.
I watch as she looks back at Blake with fondness in her eyes, and he strokes her face like he can’t help but touch her.
I guess I remember what it was like to love like that. I try to forget with countless girls and parties, but it doesn’t help. It only makes me feel more like a waste of fucking space.
I glance around the restaurant and spot a girl with long, shiny black hair curled down her back. She is wearing a tight, blue dress that stops at her knees.
I remember black hair like that and the body that nearly took my soul every time I kissed her.
I look back as the girl turns, and I drop my fork onto my plate with a bang as I see her button nose and strong, brown eyes. I look down her dress and see the lump of her stomach as my stomach drops in panic.
My mind denies what I’m seeing, as I know she has always been thin. I close my eyes and open them again as I accept that she is pregnant.
I stand up, ignoring my family’s questions, and walk over to where she has just sat with some dark-haired dude who looks a lot older than her.
She looks up at me with a pale face as I stand over her table.
“Is it mine?” I ask with shaking hands, which I fold into fists.
She doesn't say anything at first as we stare at each other, and I can feel my family moving to stand behind me.
I hear the guy she is with stand and demand that Maisy leave with him, but I never take my eyes off hers as she whispers, “Yes, Seb, the baby is yours.”
Link to Chance (Sebastian’s story) on Amazon here…
Description of Chance
The Kings are dangerous, that's what everyone says, but how can Maisy run from a second chance with the man she has always loved?
I've been called a lot of names. Heartbreaker, broken, dirty fighter, and yet the one I'd never thought I'd be called, is the only name I care about now, father.
Sebastian King has only ever loved one girl, but he lost her once, and he won't be doing it again. When his life is spiralling out of control, Maisy comes back. Finally, he knows he must fight the biggest fight of his life, winning her back.
18+ due to violence, sexual scenes, and language.
Quote
Maybe there’s something you’re afraid to say, or someone you’re afraid to love, or somewhere you’re afraid to go. It’s gonna hurt. It’s gonna hurt because it matters.
-John Green.
Prologue
“Just save my baby boy, please.”
The sound of her breathless plea breaks my heart, and I hear Allie crying by the door, the sound is loud in the room.
“I will do everything in my power to save you both,” the doctor tells her.
The next thing I know, Maisy is being taken out of the room, and I'm told I have to wait in here. Allie has to hold me back when they tell me I can’t follow and that they will bring the baby out. I vaguely hear Allie making sure we are told anything that happens.
I fall to the floor, holding my hands to my face. I can’t believe this has happened.
31
Maisy
"Are you seriously going to wear that tonight, Maisy?" my mother screeches at me, looking at me in shock. I look down at my jean and white top then back up at her. I’ve gone past not caring what her problem is. It’s not like I want to leave the house tonight in the first place. I spent the morning throwing up over the smell of a salmon sandwich my dad ate, and my caring attitude went down the loo.
"So? Why not? I think I look fine," I mutter, not knowing why I’m bothering to argue with her. My mother scowls at me in distaste as she wipes her hands down her pristine, white dress over her stick-thin body.
"Maisy, you have a date with Kyle Winchester, and you know this must go well. You cannot expect to live in sin in this house." She glances at my large stomach before looking away, like she can’t even acknowledge the fact that I’m pregnant.
The thing is, I don't care; not about anything other than my unborn child. I'm six months pregnant with a beautiful, baby boy, and that's the only good thing in my life anymore. I’ve accepted it, but it doesn’t make my heart stop hurting, or my family’s rejection of my child, sting any less.
"I know, Mother," I whisper, hoping she will just leave it. I am really not that lucky tonight.
"You clearly don't. You need to get married, and Kyle Winchester has loved you since you were a young, spoiled brat. The good man has even said he will accept that baby." She huffs at me. I hold back a snort of laughter as she mumbles on about how great Kyle is. The only thing she missed is that he is a stuck-up asshole.
"I know, Mother," I repeat.
“You can’t stay with us if this doesn’t go well, and then what will you do?” She doesn’t give me a chance to reply before continuing. “You will just be another single mum with no qualifications and no money. The boy who did that to you won’t care, as I’m sure you’re just another notch on his bedpost by now," she says harshly, and I flinch at my future, or more at my baby’s.
I breathe in deeply, as I know her words are right. Considering I left school too early to complete my A levels, I don’t have a chance of getting into university on my grades alone. I won’t even think about him yet, the man (a title he doesn’t deserve) who left me in this state alone and broke my heart all in one go.
I can’t even think about the baby’s father now without a hell of a lot of tears. I won’t give her the satisfaction of seeing them.
My mind floats to my grandmother and the huge trust fund she left me. I miss her so much, as she was all the family I had who actually cared about me. I’m lucky my mother doesn't know about my trust fund, but I can't touch it without her help, and I won't tell her about it.
"I will change," I say begrudgingly. I know she won't give up and will keep throwing insults until I do.
"Brilliant. I left a blue, maternity dress on your bed," she says, but she leaves out that I must wear it.
I leave our massive, white kitchen and walk down the corridor to my room. The walls of the house I live in are all white or grey, and my room is the same. There isn’t a single family picture in the house because my mother doesn’t like them. Instead, there are weird pieces of artwork, which I’m sure are worth a fortune but, to me, look like shit. I open the door to my room and rest my head against it as I look around.
There is a single bed in the corner–as my parents don't think I need a bigger one–white wardrobe, and a white chest of drawers. I haven't bought any baby stuff yet. I know that’s bad, but I'm saving all the money I can by working at the local supermarket. I work on the tills even if it kills my back; I need the money. I intend to work until the last minute of this pregnancy, before I can even think about leaving. I may play along with my parents’ insane idea that I should marry Kyle, but I'm trying to get out of town. It s
ometimes seems hopeless, and I feel like giving in, but one movement from my baby reminds me I can’t give up. The money I’ve saved will pay for the baby’s things but not rent, and then what do I do when he arrives? I can't work, and the maternity pay isn't enough to live on.
I look at the dark-blue, very tight dress on the bed and look up at the ceiling, praying for help to even get into it. I slip on a pair of silver pumps, not caring that they don’t match and grab my leather jacket.
After I change, the doorbell goes, and I walk as slowly as possible down to the entrance hall.
Kyle is standing there, looking stupidly rich and wearing an expensive suit, which does nothing to hide his unfit body underneath it. He is standing with my mother and father. They are all laughing, and my mother gives him a peck on the cheek before she notices me. Sometimes, I wonder if she is the one who wants to sleep with him because I really, really don’t.
"Maisy, darling, come here," she says in a fake, loving voice, which I’m used to hearing around guests.
I walk over as I say, "Hello, Kyle.” I try to smile, but I don't think it works.
He glances at me with a slight leer and then looks at my bump with a scowl, but he quickly hides it.
"You look sexy tonight, Maisy," he says, admiring my breasts, which makes me want to punch him. Kyle is just as tall as me, which means he is short, really. I'm barely five-foot-seven, and he has brown hair that's cut very short, but I think it’s due to his receding hairline. He is a little overweight and always wears silly suits that show off that stomach of his.
Unfortunately for me, he is my mother’s best friend’s son, and at twenty-eight, he is still single. As far as I know, he hasn’t had a long-term girlfriend. I can see why because he doesn't have the looks. Even worse, is the fact that he is a complete asshole, which will show the minute we leave my parents’ sight. I don’t know why he bothers to be nice, I don’t think they would care.
"Thank you," I bite out.
"Let's go. I hope to see you soon, Louise, Donald." He nods slightly at them and grabs my hand to pull me with him. I cough a little at the overwhelming amount of cologne he must have on, which I smell as I walk out next to him. It’s not even a nice-smelling one at that.
The worst part is that his hand is sweaty and feels terrible, but I know I can't just rip my hand off him in front of them.
Kyle unlocks his brand new Mercedes and lets himself in. It’s not that I expected him to open my door, but I struggle to get in being huge in the stomach area and the car being low.
Yep, being pregnant sucks, but I have no one to blame but me.
Kyle doesn't say anything to me on the way to the restaurant. It's a posh, Mexican restaurant in town, and I hate going into town at the moment, he knows that.
Well, the thing is, the dad of the baby lives around here and knows I’m pregnant with his child, but he made it clear he didn’t want to know. I’ll never forget the text that made it bluntly clear. I also don't want to run into any of his family or my old friends from school. There would be too many questions that I don’t want to answer.
I hate coming back, in case I see Seb, as I'm scared how I will react. My emotions go from wanting to punch his perfect face, to begging him to talk to me. That man was everything to me until one night when he ruined us, and then when I thought it couldn't get worse, I got a text from him saying I'm on my own with the baby.
So yeah, being in town is officially a bad idea.
Kyle gets out of the car, and so do I. I follow him into the restaurant, and he speaks to the waiter before we are shown to our table. The place is packed, but it's not surprising considering it's a nice restaurant.
I take my seat and order water from the waiter as Kyle orders a beer.
We don’t say anything to each other as we order our food, but then he says, “You’re looking big; how long until this thing is born?"
I hold my fork so tight I'm scared I'm going to break it, or worse, stab him with it. I let go of the fork to push my long, black hair over my shoulder. I repeat to myself again and again that I only have to pretend for a little while, until I can sort myself out. The ‘Fucking Jackass’ is my new, mental nickname for Kyle Winchester.
"My son will be here in around three months," I answer.
"Well, how long until you can have sex with me? I want to be married fairly soon after it is born," he says, and I try not to vomit. There is no way in hell I'm sleeping with this jackass, let alone marrying him.
I feel a man standing next to me, and I look up into the brightest-green eyes, which have haunted most of my dreams. My heart drops as I stare at Sebastian King, and I feel like I can't breathe as my hands start to shake.
“Is it mine?” he asks, and I look up at him in shock. Seb knows I'm pregnant, so why would he ask such a stupid question?
Damn, it hurts to see him. His dark-brown hair is styled to the side and slightly shorter than when I last saw it. Seb is still as tall and muscular as he always was, with a clean-shaven, strong jaw line. I take my time to see that he is dressed in dark-blue jeans and a button-up, black-and-white shirt. It’s slightly unbuttoned, with the tattoo on his chest peeking through.
I loved this man so much before he broke me, and I breathe in his woodsy smell before answering.
“Yes, Seb, the baby is yours,” I say slowly, as I’m not sure what else to say and wondering what game he is playing.
"Why didn't you fucking tell me, Maisy? Weren’t you ever going to?" Seb shouts at me, and he looks so mad that I almost believe he didn't know. I remember his message to me and straighten my shoulders before replying.
"I did tell you, Sebastian. Don't play your bullshit games with me." I glare at him as I speak, pushing myself to my feet and picking my handbag up off the table.
I waver a little when he looks confused and shakes his head at me before moving to step forward.
A short, very beautiful girl with long, wavy, almost white-blond hair comes over and places a hand on his shoulder.
My heart tightens as I realise he has moved on from the loving look he gives her. It’s strange because from what I’ve heard, he has become the village bike and everyone gets a ride. I won’t ever admit it, but it still hurts to see anyone touch him.
"Calm down, Seb," she says gently but smiles at me.
Seb’s twin, Elliot, moves to the other side of him and says, "Izzy is right, you need to calm the fuck down." Elliot doesn’t move to stop him, but it’s clear he would if he had to.
"You want me to calm down, seriously? She is pregnant with my child, and, apparently, I knew," he says to the girl who is called Izzy. It’s strange as she looks familiar. I look at her face, but I can't say why.
"We are leaving, Maisy," Kyle shouts at me, and I flinch, which Seb notices.
Seb briefly looks at him before saying to me, "Who the fuck is this?" He gestures to Kyle with his hand.
Before I can answer, Kyle stupidly says, "I'm the smart one she will be marrying soon. We are leaving."
Kyle grabs my arm roughly and pulls me over to him, making me stumble a little. I suddenly see that Sebastian's eldest brother, Harley, is here, and he grabs my other arm gently to hold me up. I smile thankfully at him before he lets go. I always felt safe around Harley, he was like the older brother I never had.
"Kyle, it’s nice to meet you, but if that was so, why is there no engagement ring on her hand?” Harley asks with a slightly distasteful look at Kyle as he speaks. He turns, looking down at my face for answers, but I look away. Kyle pulls on my arm more.
Harley glares at him as he speaks, “You shouldn't pull a lady like that."
I turn to leave because this couldn’t get any worse when I hear Seb. "Wait, can I have your number? I didn't know about the baby, and I want to be there for you both," Seb says, almost desperately from behind me, and I turn to look at him. He looks like a mixture of emotions, much like how I feel.
“The hell you didn’t.” I narrow my eyes at him as I speak, crossing my
arms. I’m surprised to see the shock on his handsome face, and it makes me question things enough to maybe give him a chance.
“Please, I swear I didn’t,” he pleads while staring at me with those deep-green eyes, which I always loved the most about him.
"Sure," I say against my better judgement and go to get my phone out of my bag. Kyle rudely pulls my arm until I'm looking at him.
"No," he states, like I’m meant to do as I’m told. I try to pull away, but his grip is too tight, and he is going to leave bruises.
Seb steps in and pushes Kyle off of me roughly, causing him to fall to the floor.
"Don't touch her again," he says in a dark voice, which should scare me like any sane person, but it doesn’t, it just makes me desire him more.
I can't still like him, right? I think as I watch him move slightly in front of me like my personal, hot bodyguard or something. As I look at his back and the impressive muscles straining against his tight shirt, all I can think about is the terrible urge to take off his clothes to see if the body I remember is underneath. I sigh internally, reminding myself that he broke me. I can't forget that.
"Why? She is just some stupid, pregnant whore," Kyle shouts, drawing my gaze to him around Seb’s back, his face is bright-red and he looks furious.
I flinch when those words cause Seb to lose it and he jumps on Kyle. I stare as Seb starts punching the shit out of him, and people start moving away from us. Oh God, this has gone so wrong.
I feel a hand move me out the way, and I look up to see Blake Frost rushing over. The six-foot, blond giant, who always reminded me of a Viking, is Seb’s best friend, and I’m surprised I didn’t notice him here. It takes both Elliot and Blake a few attempts to pull Seb off of a passed-out Kyle while Harley stays close to me. Seb's knuckles are bleeding . . . or its Kyle’s blood, who knows? But, it’s not nice to see.