Redemption
Page 1
REDEMPTION
A Sam’s Town Novel
Sam JD Hunt
Contents
Preface
1. I Stuck It In You Like Once
2. Babies Don’t Come With Manuals
3. Can I Do Like A Wet Nurse Or Something?
4. No, I Don’t Need To Find Jesus Or Install Solar
5. I Shit You Not, But His Name Is Thug
6. I’ve Broken Hundreds Of Noses
7. We Do This Once
8. We’re Not Eating That
9. I Don’t Just Kill Everyone, Contrary To Popular Belief
10. F*ck You Boxer Briefs
11. Oh It’ll Be Hard, But I’m Never A Bargain
12. I Like My Edge Fully On
13. I Don’t Beat Around The Bush. Unless It’s Yours
14. Wait, Babies Have Gyms?
15. They’re Holding Her Wrong. She’s Squirmy
16. One Cut For Everyone You Hurt
17. A Sam’s Town Gangster Wandering Around Guys With Bats In Summerlin
18. Be Quiet, Because Grace Is Asleep And You Look Like A Screamer
19. How Much More Do I Have To Lose?
20. He Doesn’t Have To Be Alive
21. Shocked Me With Literally Zero Gag Reflex
22. He’s No Pimp, Just Stuck In 90s Hip Hop
Epilogue
Please Review
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Sam JD Hunt
"Show me a hero and I will write you a tragedy." - F. Scott Fitzgerald
“Most rich people have a gangster in their ancestry somewhere.”
- Ken Follett, Winter of the World
“Redemption always demands sacrifice.”
- Shane MacKinnon
For those who never settle. Don’t stop hustling.
One bad boy who suddenly becomes a single father.
One unexpected romance with his new daughter’s fiery social worker.
One man who finally finds a chance at redemption by two bonds of love that sink deeper than he ever imagined…
I never wanted her. I never wanted anyone, for that matter. But here she is, dropped on my shabby doorstep one sweltering Vegas afternoon. My newborn daughter Grace is beautiful, perfect, and apparently mine thanks to a meaningless fling with someone I barely know.
I want to change my life for her, but I’m terrified. Can I, ex-con Shawn “Mack” MacKenzie, ever get it together enough for them to let me keep my precious daughter? God knows I’ll try, but it won’t be easy. The odds are against us, but I am determined to sacrifice everything for love and ultimately, hopefully, a chance at redemption.
Copyright © 2019 by Sam JD Hunt
All rights reserved. This work or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Published in the United States of America
First Published, 2019
Covers image of Shane & Opal MacKinnon by Holly MacKinnon and used with permission
Cover design by CT Cover Creations
Edited by Missy Borucki
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This book intentionally contains slang dialogue and plenty of doses of Las Vegas locals insider humor.
This book was not tested on animals and is gluten and dairy free.
One
I Stuck It In You Like Once
Shawn “Mack” MacKenzie
I opened the door of my hand-me-down trailer before she knocked. Used to listening for danger, my ears were trained to detect the telltale creak of the about-to-fall-apart wooden stairs.
“Yeah?” That was the only greeting that tweaker chick got from me that scorching Vegas afternoon.
“Mack?”
I glanced up and down. She was some strung-out bleached blonde, tall and skinny. Too skinny and too pale – after a decade of selling drugs, I knew an addict when I saw one. Even worse, next to her on the porch was a car seat, its contents covered in some sort of tiny blanket.
“You fucking came to my house? I don’t deal anymore, baby. Turn around and get off my damn porch.”
“It’s Misty. Don’t you remember me?”
I squinted at her in the harsh sunlight. The eyes I recognized, maybe the nose. “What, did I deal to you or something? I told you, I don’t do that anymore.”
“I know. Security, that’s your thing. That and making people pay -Dollar Loan Center and the Pink Kitty, right?”
“Who the fuck are you?” I could feel my blood pressure rising faster than the heat index.
“Misty Magic, from the Pink Kitty. We hooked up nine and a half months ago.” She reached down and pulled the flimsy blanket from the car seat. Little blue eyes looked up at me, barely able to focus.
“Misty?” I glanced from her to the baby, trying to remember the one night I’d spent with a random stripper from the club. Not even a night, really. It was a few hours. But she’d been different then: beautiful, curvy, and the thing I liked about her the most – sassy. She definitely wasn’t the washed out shell of a human that was currently standing in front of me.
“Please, Mack, don’t let my parents have her. They’ll destroy her soul like they did mine.” She glanced over her shoulder nervously. “And most of all, keep her safe. From them, from me.”
I took a deep breath and glanced at the pink little being on my porch. “Misty, listen, I’m not sure exactly what you’re implying…”
“She’s your daughter.”
Her calloused hand reached in a plastic grocery bag and pulled out a piece of paper. I scanned the birth certificate. Sure enough, this lunatic had truly done it.
Name: Grace Olivia MacKenzie
Then further down:
Mother: Melissa Ann Warner
Father: Shawn Patrick MacKenzie
“Who’s Melissa?”
She rolled her dilated eyes. “Me, idiot. You thought my given name was Magic Misty?”
“I didn’t care,” I admitted. “Listen, Melissa, Misty, who-the-fuck-ever – I don’t have any money, if that’s what you’re after.”
“I’m after a home for my daughter. Our daughter. Away from drugs, pimps, and my evil parents. You’re all she has now.”
“We both know she’s not mine.” But, as I looked at Grace Olivia again, I knew she was. “I stuck it in you like once and you want me to believe you had my kid?”
“Four times, don’t you remember? And you were the sober one.”
Another eye roll from her had me remembering this chick. Less than a year ago she was a gorgeous, take-no-shit moneymaker at the club. And now she was just sad. I felt the familiar stab of remorse at how many like her I’d sold drugs to.
“You were probably with a ton of guys during that same time. Why do you think she’s mine?”
“I was with zero guys, asshole. You think stripper equals slut?”
I shook my head. I did not think that. But I also did not think I’d ever be the parent of some gorgeous baby with Misty Magic from the Pink Kitty. “I didn’t mean it that way, Melissa.”
She cringed at hearing her given name, shaking me off as I tried to hand her the birth certificate. “Keep it, you’ll need it. Listen, Mack, I tried to stay clean when I was knocked up and she’s healthy, but this last month I’m off the rails again. Even worse, the pimp I’ve been working for these last couple of days is threatening to sell her. Please…?”
“Are you positive she’s mine? If you’re pull
ing one on me, they’ll find you in a wash out in the Mojave.”
“I’m sure. Tell them to do a DNA test. She’s yours! Look at her – how can you deny it?”
I forced myself to look at the little being again. Giant blue eyes stared back at me. My eyes. She definitely had my eyes, but she also had my distinctive hair, my mother’s nose, and the stripper-turned-user-turned-whore’s chin. She was the most perfect thing I’d ever seen.
“Okay, so say she is mine. There has to be a better home for her than here.” I waved my hand at my falling-apart trailer in one of the few trailer parks in the city – right under the shadow of the once-luxurious Sam’s Town Gambling Hall. It wasn’t the ghetto, but it wasn’t exactly utopic suburbia, either.
“She belongs with you,” she said, glancing over her shoulder.
“Do you need help with these guys?” I asked. A beat-up black Lincoln was hovering down the street and it was starting to roll up toward us.
“No, I’m good. Just please – take care of Grace. No matter what, don’t let my family near her.”
And with, that she turned an ran – away from me, away from the pimps in the black car, but most of all, she ran from our daughter.
I chased after her, but when I turned the corner she was gone. Living at the intersection of Boulder Highway and Nellis, traffic was choked up and she could have been anywhere. So there I stood, sweating and shirtless, her words echoing in my brain. Take care of our daughter.
Shit! I’d left the baby alone!
But she wasn’t alone. And she was wailing with attitude – I couldn’t believe such a tiny thing could have lungs like that.
In the unpaved parking area in front of our trailers, a giant Great Dane was bouncing up and down, clearly distraught at the newborn’s discomfort.
“Bro, watch your dog!” I howled at my neighbor, Jake Tanner.
“Oh please,” he said as he bounced the baby in his arms. “Cerberus loves babies.”
“And stop fucking shaking her!”
“I’m soothing her, Bro. My family is Irish, remember? Babies everywhere!”
“Whatever, you’re not supposed to shake them. Even I know that.”
Jake ignored me and walked in small circles in the gravel, his voice in some shushing sing-song tone.
“She’s wet and hungry. Whose is she?” he asked.
“Apparently mine.” I sat down on the steps and pulled out the tattered birth certificate. “At least some chick said so.”
“She just dropped a baby on your doorstep? Dude, that’s like stuff that only happens in a movie.”
“Story of my life,” I said with a sigh. I’d certainly not exactly done things the traditional way. “The thing is, she might actually not be lying.”
Jake looked into Grace’s howling face, his eyes narrowing as he examined her delicate features. “She certainly has your temper, although I doubt she’s done time for manslaughter and shit.”
“Very funny, asshole.”
He squinted at the baby one more time, and then looked over at me.
“Well?” I asked. “Is there a resemblance or whatever? And if you make another fucking joke, I’ll be back in prison after I break your face.”
He chuckled. “My face is a masterpiece – you’d never ruin it. Break a leg, maybe. An arm, sure. But not my pretty face. And yeah, she’s totally your mini-me.”
The whole thing was surreal. A howling baby that was probably mine, his gentle giant of a dog licking the kid’s feet, and my pretty-boy pal Jake Tanner desperately trying to quiet her. With a deep breath, I stood up and reached for her.
“Don’t sweat on her, and for fuck’s sake don’t squeeze her too hard,” he scolded as I wrapped the tiny thing in my massive arms.
“Squeeze her?” I said, instinctively pulling her close – ignoring the sweat warning.
“Yeah, you’re like the fucking Hulk – I could see you not knowing your strength and POOF, there goes baby.” Jake laughed, always more amused at his constant jokes than anyone else.
“Look, she likes this,” I said as Grace nuzzled into me, her tiny head settling into the hollow of my chest like she was meant to be there. My right hand wrapped around her, and I knew in that moment that love at first sight was completely real. I’d only known her for fifteen minutes, and she was my entire world.
“Of course she does – skin to skin. They like that.” He reached into the back pocket of his ripped jeans and pulled out his phone. “Oh my God, this is like the best picture. Stand over against Becky’s fence and hold her just like that.”
“Not now, I need to figure out who to call…”
“It’ll take two seconds. Think of it as evidence or whatever.”
“I didn’t commit a crime, mother fucker.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t swear around her…she’s a kid and shit.”
I glared at him.
“Gawd, I’m kidding. You’re always so intense. C’mon, a couple of quick pics and then let’s document the car seat here and stuff. You know, in case the cops come.”
“Cops? I’ve had enough of that shit to last me a lifetime. I mean, I almost did a lifetime.” Grace, now silent and sleeping in my arms, made a little noise and I pulled her even closer to me.
“I think she likes my heartbeat.”
“Yeah, it’s like it’s meant to be.”
“But Jake, I’m no father! I mean shit, this kid deserves better than some ex-con.” I glanced around the parking lot of the trailer park. It wasn’t the worst part of the city, but it wasn’t exactly Henderson or Summerlin with the good schools and the sort of opportunities she deserved.
“Okay, then, call 911 and let them take her.” He shot me smirk, fully confident that I had no intention of doing that.
“Well, I do have a birth certificate and I’m named as the father. Mandy seemed pretty confident that—”
“Mandy?”
“The mother, douchebag.”
He shook his head at me in disbelief. “Misty, not Mandy. You might learn the name of the mother of your kid.”
“How do you know?”
With an eye roll, he said, “I was there the night you hooked up with her. She’s been over at Sam’s Town playing Blackjack, pregnant as fuck. Are you that oblivious?”
Jake pointed his phone at us and said, “Smile like one of those Instagram assholes.”
Of course I ignored him. I didn’t fucking smile. Ever.
Grace moved a little, her tiny bare chest rising and falling against mine as I held her.
“Your hand is almost bigger than her whole body.” Jake was snapping pictures, turning his phone in every direction to get the best light.
I looked down, and he was right. My hand, covered in the ink that told the story of my life, was a stark contrast to this small, delicate being. And yet, I knew she was a part of me.
“Perfect!” he said. “I’m tagging you in this one.”
“Tagging?”
“Oh my God, use social media once in a while, Mack. You know, so your family can see her.”
“No,” I said too loudly. Grace stirred, a tiny cry starting to form, and I bounced her a little until she settled again.
“Don’t shake her,” he teased.
“Seriously, Jake, I don’t want anyone to know about this yet. Especially not family, okay?”
“Sure,” he said, swiping through the pictures on his phone. “I’ll text you these, though. That last one is completely IG worthy.”
“IG?”
He sighed again. “Jesus, whatever. Forget it.” Glancing at his watch, he reached down and grabbed Cerberus’ collar. “I gotta go – I’m driving Ma home this afternoon from the casino.”
“Wait, what am I supposed to do?”
He shrugged. “Did she come with a kit or anything?”
“Like instructions?”
“Like a diaper bag? Food? Any of that shit? I mean she’s not even fucking dressed.”
I shook my head. “No, this is all.”<
br />
“Well you’ve got her papers, get her registered and shit I guess. But first maybe Becky knows what to do. She’s had like twenty kids or something.”
“And that many maybe daddies,” I joked. My next-door neighbor, Becky Donner, seemed to always be pregnant yet we’d never actually seen her with a man of any sort.
“Cool. Thanks, bro.” I walked past him and his giant dog toward my front door. It was far too hot to keep Grace outside much longer – or at least, it seemed like that should be true. Even worse, her diaper was soaked.
“Oh,” Jake said, glancing over his shoulder. “Do you want me to take Thug until you figure it all out?”
“What? Why would…?”
“Pit bull and a baby,” he shrugged.
“Thug is a million years old and won’t even chase a fly. You know he’s the biggest pussy ever.”
He nodded. “Oh yeah, I know, but I’m just saying he might knock her over or whatever.”
“I think we’ve got some time to worry about all of that – for now, she’s not exactly crawling across the floor.”
“True, true,” he said as he walked the few steps back to his own trailer.
Two
Babies Don’t Come With Manuals
Grace looked up at me, her eyes struggling to focus. “Well, young lady, I guess we have some issues to sort out, don’t we?”