“Hello, Grandpa,” I say, looking up at him. I’m seeing my very own grandpa. I want to hug him.
He looks angry again as he looks down at me. Then his head snaps back up to look at my mummy. “Why did you bring that little bastard here?” he says really, really meanly. “Get him out of here. Don’t you ever bring him back.” He steps back, slamming the door in our faces.
My mum makes a strange sound, and I feel like crying. I’m so disappointed. I don’t like my grandpa. He’s mean. “Come on, baby,” she says, looking down at me. Mummy starts to cry. When my mummy cries, it makes me feel sad.
I’m almost running behind mummy as she tugs on my hand. She hurries down the driveway and back out into the street. “What’s a bastard?” I ask. I’ve never heard that word before. The way my grandpa said it, it doesn’t sound like a nice word.
My question stops mummy walking. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she squats down in front of me. “You’re not a bastard,” she says with a sad smile. “Pay no attention to what he said. You’re a beautiful boy.” She gives me a kiss on my forehead. “I’m sorry I brought you here.”
“It’s okay, mummy,” I say trying real hard to be brave. When my bottom lip starts to quiver and the first tears fall, I know I’ve failed. I’m not brave.
“Oh baby.” She opens her arms, pulling me tightly against her as I cry into her chest. “You’re not a bastard,” she whispers.
Even though I don’t know what that word means, I want to believe her, I do, but why would Grandpa say it if it’s not true?
I hate that I’m a bastard. I don’t know what it means, but I know that this moment and that word, are going to stick with me for the rest of my life.
••••
bas·tard
1. Offensive A person born to parents not married to each other.
2. Slang
a. A person considered to be mean or contemptible.
b. A person, especially one considered to be unfortunate.
3. Something that is of irregular, inferior, or dubious origin.
It’s funny how one fleeting moment in time can change you. One stupid, crazy, fucked-up word can define you. I didn’t know it at the time, but after that day things changed—I changed. I was only five years old the day I learnt I was bastard, and sadly as the years progressed, that’s exactly what I became…
CHAPTER ONE
The Present…
Carter
Packing the last of the boxes into the trunk of the car, I turn and take one final look at the only place I’ve ever called home. The place I’ve lived for the last seventeen years of my life. I’m fucking pissed they’re forcing me to leave here. I hate that I’m going to have to live with that fuckwit my mum now calls her husband.
Thank God it’s only for six months. That’s when I’ll be turning eighteen; finally becoming a legal adult. You can be sure as hell the first thing I do, is blow this godforsaken place. My mum has that cocksucker to look after now. She doesn’t need me anymore.
“Hurry up son. I haven’t got all day,” my stepfather says sarcastically, leaning out of the driver’s side window. I swear he does shit like this to bait me. My head snaps in his direction.
“I’m not your son. You best remember that, old man,” I retort, my eyes narrowing. “If you got off your arse and helped instead of sitting there barking orders at me all afternoon, we would’ve finished hours ago.”
Throwing back his head, he laughs at my comment. He acts so sweet in front of my mum. She falls for his pathetic shit all the time. Truth is, he’s a fake-arse, prick. As soon as my mum’s back is turned, he treats me like dirt. She might love him, but I sure as hell don’t. I fucking hate him.
This is going to be the longest six months of my life.
Slamming the truck shut, I make my way around to the passenger side of the car. “Wipe your damn feet before you get in the car,” he barks. I swear if there was some dog shit nearby right now, I’d tread in it just to spite him.
Sighing, I do as he asks before climbing into the car. “Prick,” I mumble under my breath.
“Watch that smart mouth of yours, boy. I won’t tolerate you speaking like that in my house, and especially in front of your mother.” Ignoring him, I turn my head, gazing out the window, taking one last look at my home as he backs out of the drive. Christ, it hasn’t even been 24 hours and I already want to punch him.
Not a word is spoken on the drive to his place. I’m thankful for that. My stomach is in knots. Living with this arsehole is going to be pure fucking hell. I have no idea what my mother sees in him, but surprisingly he makes her happy. That’s the only reason I’m going along with this bullshit. I’m doing it for her, no other reason.
It’s about an hour’s drive from my old neighbourhood to the gates of hell. Fuck, I need a cigarette. As soon as we pull into the street I’ll now be calling home, my heart rate picks up. The street is lined with perfect houses, with perfect lawns and fancy manicured gardens.
I hate it here, already.
“This is your new home, my home,” the fuckwit says when we pull into the drive.
“Whoop-de-fucking-do,” I reply as I exit the car before he has a chance to say another word. I make my way around to the trunk to unpack the boxes. Of course that lazy fucker goes inside. I guess I’ll be doing all the work again.
As I open the trunk, I hear laughter. Pure, sweet, sickening laughter. My head snaps in that direction, and that’s when I see her. Well actually, the first thing I see is her tight little arse. She’s bending over patting a dog, wearing these sexy little shorts. Tearing my eyes away from her, they land on the dog. It’s a long-haired German Shepherd.
The perfect dog.
Growing up I always wanted a dog like that, but living in an apartment that didn’t allow animals, made it impossible.
When the girl stands up straight, my eyes move up to her long, dark hair that now cascades down her lean back. The sun’s beaming down on it, illuminating its shine. I find myself wishing she’d turn around so I could see her face. She doesn’t, so my gaze moves back down to her arse. Fuck me, what an arse.
Images of me wrapping her hair around my wrist as I bend her over, pounding her from behind, enter my mind. It makes my dick stir. Jesus, why did I let my thoughts go there? Her body might be rockin’, but that doesn’t mean her face is. I guess, if I was giving it to her from behind, that wouldn’t really be a problem anyway.
I watch as she raises her arm, throwing the ball across the yard. She’s got a pretty good throw for a girl. The dog turns galloping towards it. When he makes his way back, he almost bowls her over in his excitement. She starts to laugh again, and I feel the corners of my lips turn up in a smile as I watch them.
“Good boy,” she says in a sweet voice as she scratches him behind the ears. “Who’s a good boy?” When the dog notices me standing there watching, he drops the ball in his mouth and trots in my direction.
“Hey boy,” I say holding my hand out for him to sniff. He seems friendly, so I reach up, running my fingers through his long mane. I can feel my smile widen. Smiling is something I don’t usually do.
“Lassie,” I hear her call out, making my smile instantly turn into scowl. She’s got to be fucking kidding. Lassie? Fucking Lassie. She had the audacity to name this cool dog Lassie. What in the hell was she thinking? He looks more like a Rambo or Butch, definitely not a fucking Lassie.
“You poor thing,” I whisper as I scratch him behind the ears. “She’ll probably be cutting your balls off next and putting a fucking bow in your hair.”
My head snaps up and my eyes narrow as she makes her way towards us. Fuck me if her face isn’t as beautiful as that luscious body of hers. I swear my jaw goes lax as she approaches. My eyes drift down to her tits. They’re kind of small, but more than a mouthful’s a waste, I suppose.
“Hey, you must be Carter. Your mum told me you’d be moving in today.” Her beauty has rendered me speechless. What the hell?
>
Pulling my shit together, I straighten up to full height, towering over her tiny frame. Her sexy-as-fuck plump lips curve up into a smile, as her beautiful green eyes meet mine. “I’m Indiana. Your new neighbour,” she says extending her hand out to me.
My eyes move down to her extended hand then back up to her face. “You called your dog Lassie?” I snarl. “What were you fucking thinking? That’s a pussy name for a dog like this. You do realise he’s a boy right?”
Her sweet mouth opens in shock and her pretty green eyes widen before narrowing into slits. “The dog that played Lassie in the movies was a boy too, you know,” she retorts, folding her arms over her chest. If she’s trying to look tough, she’s failing miserably. Crossing her arms only manages to push her perky little tits up further. I feel my cock grow at the sight, and that pisses me the hell off. I hate how she’s having this effect on me.
Opening the trunk I reach in to retrieve a box, placing it in front of me. The last thing I want her to see is the damn hard-on she’s just given me.
“What’s your problem anyway?” she asks, her eyes meeting mine again. “You’re not exactly making a great first impression.”
I almost want to smile at her fucking attitude, but there’s no way in hell I’ll be giving her that satisfaction. “I don’t give a fuck what you think of me, kid. Why don’t you run along and go play with your dolls like a good little girl.”
I’m really struggling not to smile now as her eyes widen again in shock. When her lips open, forming a perfect little o, all I can think is she has the most fuckable mouth I’ve ever seen. That thought only makes my cock even harder.
Sweet Jesus, what is she doing to me?
I’m surprised I almost feel bad for the way I’m treating her, but riling her up is way too much fun. I’m not about to stop now.
“Well that’s just plain rude. Something pretty shitty must’ve happened in your life to give you such a bad attitude.” She hit the nail right on the head. It sure did, I want to say, but I don’t. Why does her saying that piss me off even more?
I hate that in less than a minute, she has already seen through my façade. What is she, some kind of a crazy clairvoyant or something? My eyes lock with hers again, and the sympathetic look I see on her face makes me dislike her even more.
“Nope. I’m just a bastard, and stop fucking looking at me like that. You’re creeping me the hell out.”
“Like what?” she huffs placing her hands on her hips.
“Like you feel sorry for me. I don’t want or need your sympathy. The sooner you learn that the better off we’ll all be, Princess. Do yourself a favour kid, stay the fuck away from me.” She gasps as my words and a satisfied smile crosses my face.
Mission accomplished.
“Later Larry,” I say to the dog, giving him one last scratch behind the ears before walking away.
“His name’s Lassie, arsehole,” she snaps to my retreating back.
“Not to me it isn’t,” I chuckle as I walk towards the house. “You won’t catch me calling him that pansy-arse name.” Maybe living here isn’t going to be as bad as I thought.
“Come on boy,” I hear her say, exhaling an exasperated breath.
As I walk up the porch stairs to my new hell, I hear her front door slam shut. Surprisingly, this makes the smile instantly drop from my face. I actually feel shitty for the way I just treated her. I don’t often feel remorseful for my actions.
Why am I such a bastard? That’s right, I was born one.
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STRAIGHT FLUSHED
A hot pursuit novel
By
Emerson Shaw
Chapter One
Through the large panes of glass the night wind whispered, rustling the leaves on the trees. In Cincinnati, as soon as the calendar lands on September, the memo goes out and Mother Nature flips her switch. Autumn had unofficially arrived. In a few weeks decaying leaves would be shriveled up, crispy and brown, lining the streets in piles. The roads outside were already littered with a few of those that had broken loose from the trees, clinging to the pavement, plastered there by the misty rain that silently fell.
I staggered through the automatic doors glancing over my shoulder. The temperature had dropped dramatically from the sweltering heat of the afternoon in which I’d almost died.
In like a lamb, out like a lion, I repeated in my head.
A cool breeze brushed my cheek. I had a general distaste for autumn, but in light of recent events, I hated it even more.
The smell of cigarette smoke from the patient sitting out front puffing away stung my nose. I held my breath while I walked through his noxious cloud. I hate the smell of smoke, but it was a free country, and people would do as they liked, even if it meant endangering the lives of all those around while they blazed away sitting next to a highly flammable tank of oxygen. To each his own. I wanted to be holding a warm mug of coffee in my hands and snuggled under a blanket. My reality couldn’t have been farther from that dream.
I was pretty sure no one had followed me, or I hoped—I’d had enough surprises and disappointments to hold me over for a while. I sighed, reliving it all over in a moment. The memories quickly rushed in like a stream swelling after a hard rain. My heart started to race and sweat saturated my skin as regret, anxiety, and blame settled into my bones. Then, I dropped the gate. Yep, all caught up. No need to get lost in the rising waters when I still had to fulfill my promise.
I left the hospital against medical advice. I only needed to make sure I wasn’t dying. And as it turned out, I wasn’t. When I’d been rolled in, I was certain my spleen had exploded or some other vital organ had been obliterated inside my body. My nose was broken—that I’d been certain of. The cracking sound on impact was like someone snapping a crisp stalk of celery in my ear and the pain was blinding.
I was all patched up and I didn’t have the luxury of taking extra time. Once I knew nothing of major importance was damaged, I signed my forms and got out of there quickly.
Who would have thought I would be walking around with the key to our national security tucked securely inside my bra? I laughed and shook my head. Not me.
How had all this happened? Sneaky memories tried to trickled back in, but I stopped them dead in their tracks.
No, not now.
I needed to get this stick to the FBI. Enough people had been killed because of it. If I had to, I’d die getting it into the right hands.
I walked briskly in the icy drizzle. The ground wasn’t completely darkened yet. There were still small patches of dry concrete, but the torrent was coming. I could smell it. I needed to find a cab. I walked along holding my side. It hurt to breathe. With each step I took it was as if one of my ribs was puncturing a hole into my lung slowly leaking air. I kept my eyes on the few fellow pedestrians brave enough to be walking the neighboring sidewalks. As far as areas of town go, I wasn’t in the best one—in areas like this trouble found you. I suspected everyone, especially now.
I approached a stop sign at a four way intersection one block outside of the hospital and decided to wait for a cab; one had to be along shortly. Then I began to doubt leaving the hospital. Maybe the doctors and nurses knew what they were talking about. I was cold—shivering—and felt like death warmed over.
My sinuses were so swollen it mimicked a head cold from hell. I fantasized briefly over taking some of the awful-tasting, green, black licorice flavored cold medicine in my bathroom. That stuff could knock me out in heartbeat, and I would definitely need it to be able to fall asleep later when all of this was over.
I rested my shoulder against the cold metal post and closed my eyes; I was so tired. I desperately needed a good night’s sleep.
Footsteps came up behind me, and I stiffened.
“Jesus, Di, what are you doing out here? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
I jumped and when I turned, I saw Vance’s worried face. “Christ, Vance, didn�
��t anyone ever tell you not to sneak up on someone?” My heart didn’t appreciate the extra jolt, especially now.
“Always the tough girl, huh? Want some help?” He furrowed brows.
“Eh.” I grunted. “I’m fine. I got this.”
“Yeah.” He laughed. “You look fine, Rocky. How’s the nose?”
“It’s reset. Should heal nicely.”
“And the ribs? I assume broken?”
“Again, yes. But they’ll heal.” I winced as a sudden pain knifed my lung.
“Look, if you don’t want to be my partner anymore, you only had to say so. You didn’t have to go through this whole charade. It’s a little overkill, don’t you think?” Touches of humor lit his eyes.
“Whatever.” I grinned, staring at the rain beading up on his inky hair. It reminded me of the summer morning dew sprinkled on a spider’s web, except under the light of the moon, it appeared blue. I wanted to touch it but didn’t want to ruin the beauty. “I can’t believe you’re making a joke. Now. Comedic timing was never your strong suit.”
“Oh, whatever. You know I’m hilarious.” Over his shoulder, he scanned the streets. “All joking aside, we should get out of here. Who knows how many more of those men are out here.”
He was right, but I think the chances were slim anymore would show up. I’d been at the hospital for a few hours, and no one else had come to kill me yet. I’d been antsy and itching to leave since I’d arrived and was annoyed at how long the whole experience had taken. Given my injuries, I should have been in and out in an hour, but three hours later, I remained. It had been a busy night for the E.R.
“How’d you know I was still here anyway?” I’d checked my phone before I signed the hospital release forms and hadn’t gotten any texts or calls from him or anyone.
“Don’t be mad.” He smiled but avoided my eyes.
I squinted and cocked my head to the side. “When you say that you already know I’m going to be. What’d you do?”
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