Small Town Daddy: A Dark Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  Still, even though it was from a shady source, and I had to cheat at football to get it, I did it for her. She had to realize that the reason was important and justified everything I did.

  It was just a sport. At the end of the day, football was just a fucking game. I was damn good at it, and I’d keep on playing because I loved the game, but it wasn’t really life-changing or important. It wasn’t like I let some guy die on my operating table in exchange for some cash or something like that. I just threw one half of a football game. Nobody got hurt, and I got paid money that can do some actual good.

  She clearly didn’t see it that way. It wasn’t like I could explain, because she wasn’t talking to me. I went through my day, angry and distracted. Class flew by, and eventually I found myself at practice, dropping back and throwing passes like usual.

  But I could hardly concentrate on the field in front of me. I just kept thinking about Avery’s expression when she saw that cash. I really thought she’d be impressed, or at least happy that I gave a fuck about her. Instead, she had been absolutely horrified.

  It was a hot day, surprisingly hot, and I was drenched in sweat. The offense was practicing against the defense, and I was doing our usual passing plays. Guys streamed all around me, big men in full pads who loved hitting and getting hit. Football games were like tightrope contests. You had to stay perfectly level, perfectly balanced, or else you’d tip over the side and get smashed.

  That was exactly what happened to me. It was a normal play, nothing special. I dropped back to pass, but the defense rushed through.

  They weren’t supposed to hit me, since they didn’t want to risk injuring their star quarterback, but my head wasn’t in the drill. I just kept thinking about Avery and my mafia problem. As the defense closed in on me, I turned to scramble but ran right into a big defensive player.

  He fucking leveled me. Normally I would have gotten away from him, but I was just so distracted that I never saw him coming. He tried to pull up and not hit me, but it was too late. I was knocked down to the grass, the wind knocked from my lungs. I heard whistles blowing all over the place.

  “What the fuck are you doing, son?” the defensive coach screamed. “Are you fucking stupid? What’s he wearing?”

  “A red jersey,” the defensive player answered.

  “A fucking red jersey, you dimwitted fucking asshole. Do you know what that means, cockhead?”

  “Don’t hit him.”

  “Don’t fucking hit him, you piece of shit. And what did you do?”

  “Hit him.”

  “You fucking hit him, you silly titted dick swaddler!”

  I slowly go to my feet as the defensive coach chewed out his player with some really fantastic language. I was turning toward the sideline when my coach got in my face.

  “The fuck you think you’re doing out there?” he asked.

  “Practicing,” I said.

  “You fucking scrambled right into him. He only hit you because you let him.”

  “It was a mistake.”

  “You’ve been making a lot of mistakes lately, Gibson,” Coach Taylor snarled. “Don’t fuck up, son. Get your fucking head in this game.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He nodded and I headed to the sideline to get something to drink.

  This was typical football. The coaches yelled insults and lit a fire under our asses. That was how they motivated us to be faster, better, stronger.

  But I didn’t feel motivated. I felt like I was being fucked on both ends by some big motherfuckers intent on making me bleed. I was stuck between the mafia wanting more from me and Avery wanting less, and I still needed to figure out how to make more money.

  I was fucked, and now I was probably bruised, considering the hit I just took.

  But I wasn’t down. I wasn’t the kind of man that stayed down. I had to figure my shit out and get my head right, and I wasn’t about to lie down and take this shit. I was going to fight back, and I was going to win.

  Because that was what I did. I was a fucking winner.

  Practice went smoothly after that. I got my head into it and the defense came a little lighter, a little smarter. Nobody wanted to be called a cum-guzzling twat in front of their team. It just wasn’t dignified.

  Once I was finished with practice and showered, I headed back toward the apartment with Hynes.

  “Hell of a hit,” he said.

  “Yeah, man,” I answered. “Still feeling it in my ribs.”

  “Did you get it checked out?”

  “Nah. I’m fine.”

  He laughed. “You’re always fine, brother.”

  “You just worry about yourself. I saw you miss a few holes today.”

  “Yeah, well, we ain’t all perfect like you.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Anyway, how’d it go with your girl? I noticed she wasn’t over this morning.”

  “Fucked that up,” I said.

  “You did what now?”

  “I fucked that up. She’s not happy with me.”

  “What the fuck did you do?”

  “You know me,” I said, grinning at him. “I can always find a way to ruin shit.”

  “You’re a master of pushing people away.”

  “Even when I don’t want to.”

  “Look, man, you like this girl, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I said, “I do.” And that was true. This was about more than just our baby at this point. With Avery, it was about everything.

  “Then fix it. When you get hit, you get up. Right?”

  “Of course,” I said. “Nothing good happens when your ass is on the grass.”

  “Truer words have never been spoken,” he said.

  “Not sure how I’m coming back from this one.”

  “Try anyway. Then try again.”

  I sighed. “All right, Hynes, man. I’ll see you later.”

  “Where are you going?”

  I grinned as I walked away. “Gonna go try.”

  I waved and then headed toward Avery’s apartment. Hynes just shook his head, laughing to himself.

  Avery didn’t live too far away. On a bike it would have taken me just a few minutes, but the walk wasn’t so bad. The town around MD wasn’t exactly a beautiful place. In fact, it was actually a shithole. I was pretty sure MD basically supported most of the town’s economy.

  But I wasn’t out for a leisurely tour of our run-down Rust Belt town. I had a mission, and a simple one: explain myself to Avery.

  I made it to her apartment not too long later. I headed inside, went up the stairs, and knocked on her door. I was determined, and I wasn’t going to be turned down.

  I heard some shuffling inside, and a minute later the door opened.

  Harper, Avery’s friend, smiled at me. “Hi, Gibson,” she said.

  “Hey, Harper. Is Avery home?”

  “She’s not here,” she said.

  I frowned. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Look, I just want to see her for a second, to explain.”

  She smiled again apologetically. “I don’t know what’s going on between you guys, honestly, and I don’t want to know, but right now she’s not here.”

  I frowned and nodded. “Okay then.” I turned to leave, but Harper suddenly stepped out of the apartment and quietly shut the door.

  “Listen, don’t give up,” she said. “Avery is upset, but it could just be pregnancy hormones or something. I know she’s into you.”

  I grinned at her. “I wasn’t going to give up.”

  “Good.”

  “I’ll be back tomorrow,” I said.

  “That’s the spirit.”

  “See you later, Harper.”

  “Bye, Gibson.” Harper went back inside and shut the door.

  I didn’t get to see Avery, and that was okay. I hadn’t really expected it to be that easy.

  But I felt encouraged. If her best friend was rooting for me, even if she was doing it on the sly, then I had a pretty good chance.
r />   I wasn’t giving up anytime soon.

  22

  Avery

  I skipped going to Gibson’s Tuesday and spent most of the day in the library. When I got home later that night, he showed up at our apartment. Harper got rid of him, but I was so incredibly torn.

  Wednesday morning came and went, and I couldn’t make myself go over to his apartment. I shouldn’t have had Harper lie to him yesterday, but I couldn’t face him, not yet at least.

  I just kept seeing that duffel bag of cash. The idea that he got that from the mafia in exchange for throwing the first half of the game kept haunting me. That was serious and could easily result in him losing everything he had worked so hard for.

  And he did it because of me. He went to the mafia and let them buy him because he wanted money to try to take care of our baby. He risked his career and everything he had built just to try to help me.

  That made me feel worse than anything else. It was crazy that he went to the mafia, and a little bit more than scary, but that wasn’t what was keeping me from him.

  Gibson had a future. He was one of the best football players in the country. I did some internet research on him, and apparently a bunch of professional teams were actively scouting him, and there were rumors that several were already planning to draft him.

  He had a professional football career ahead of him. And here I was, just some girl from nowhere with a baby inside her, and he was willing to risk all of that for me.

  It was too much. I couldn’t take that responsibility. I couldn’t be responsible for him losing his dream.

  He was willing to go too far for me. I wasn’t ready to let his life be ruined just because mine was, too. It felt good that he was willing to do whatever to make things right, to take care of me and our baby, but he didn’t have to. I could do it myself. I wasn’t going to ask him to throw his career away.

  Besides, he shouldn’t be getting involved with the mafia. That probably went without saying. He had worked so hard to escape that part of his past, and because of this baby, he was sliding back into his old, bad ways.

  All day Wednesday I floated through space. My head was basically somewhere else, either worrying about Gibson getting caught and losing his football career or about him getting too involved with the mafia.

  Class was a blur, lunch was a blur, and I was barely paying attention to the world around me as I walked my bike home. At least it was a beautiful day out, and everyone was relaxing on the manicured grass.

  My phone began to vibrate as I got close to the edge of campus. Assuming it was Harper, I pulled it from my pocket and answered it. “Hello?”

  “Avery.”

  I took a sharp breath. “Hi, Mom.”

  “How are you?” She sounded stiff and formal.

  “I’m doing okay. How are you and Dad?”

  “We’re fine.”

  I hadn’t spoken to them since I’d broken the news. I had tried calling once, but my father just said that my mother wasn’t feeling well and maybe I should call back some other time. I hadn’t tried since then, because it was obvious to me that they didn’t want to talk.

  Which wasn’t too surprising. I was their sinner daughter after all. I got knocked up by a man I wasn’t married to, and that meant I was basically going to burn in hell for all of eternity.

  “I’m glad you called,” I said. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

  “I’m sure,” she said. “But I’d like to say something first.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  She took a deep breath. “I think that you should give this baby up for adoption.”

  That surprised me. “What?”

  “Listen to me, Avery. You’re not fit to be a mother, and you’re not married. You’re just too young to take care of this child. Your father and I were talking, and we both think it would best if you came home, had the child, put it up for adoption, and then finished your schooling.”

  I couldn’t believe her. Well, I could believe her, but I couldn’t believe she was being serious.

  There was no way I was putting my baby up for adoption, just absolutely no way. I didn’t judge any other woman who made that choice, because it was a hard choice no matter what, but I could take care of my baby, and I wanted to.

  Which was actually a strange thought to have. Ever since it first happened, I’d been wondering what the hell I was going to do. The idea of adoption had crossed my mind once or twice, but never seriously. I had always assumed I was taking care of my baby no matter what.

  “I can’t do that,” I said.

  “You can. It might be difficult for you, but it will be for the best.”

  “No,” I said simply. “I won’t.”

  “Avery, you can’t take care of this child on your own, and clearly the father isn’t in the picture. Come home, let us take care of you, and then you can go back to your life.”

  “No,” I said again. “This is my baby. Maybe he wasn’t planned, but I’m not giving him up.”

  “Be reasonable, Avery. How can you give this child the life it deserves? Let someone else take care of it for you.”

  “Mother, that’s not happening.”

  I could tell she was getting angry again. “Avery, you’ve already sinned so seriously that I worry for your immortal soul, but at least you can salvage whatever is left of your life.”

  “I don’t want to salvage anything,” I said. “This is my baby, and I’m not going to give him up. This isn’t happening, Mother.”

  “Then we’re cutting you off.”

  I stopped in my tracks. “What?”

  “We’re cutting you off if you don’t come home. I’m doing this for your own good, Avery.”

  “No,” I said, anger bubbling up to the surface. “You’re doing this to avoid the embarrassment of having a daughter who had a baby out of wedlock or whatever. You’re doing this for yourself, not for me.”

  “I’m trying to help you. This is more than my mother would have done.”

  “I don’t want your help. Go ahead and cut me off. I’ll figure it out. I don’t want your tuition money.”

  “Be reasonable, Avery.”

  “I am. You’re the one threatening me.”

  “Come home. Give up the child. We can still help you.”

  “No. Goodbye, Mother. Cut me off if you need to.”

  I hung up the phone and stood there, breathing deeply and fast.

  I couldn’t believe my own mother was willing to threaten me like that. She clearly was fine with making my life harder if that served her own agenda.

  I had it hard enough as it was. I wasn’t going to let my mother control me or take my child away. If they stopped paying my tuition bills, then I’d figure it out. But I couldn’t have such a toxic person in my life right now.

  She didn’t really care about what was best for me. She worried about my immortal soul, maybe, but she was mostly just worried that I’d embarrass her. She cared more about what the other ladies at her church thought than she did about what I wanted.

  As I stood there, staring out across the road, I realized something important.

  Gibson wasn’t forcing anything on me. The only person aside from Harper who was actively trying to support me was him. He wasn’t trying to get me to give the baby up for adoption or even something worse. I’d bet that so many guys in his position would have done something similar, especially to try to cover their own asses.

  But not Gibson. He never questioned me, never pushed me to do something differently. Gibson worked hard as hell to support me, and he even went out of his way to help with my school project.

  He didn’t owe me any of that. But talking to my mother, with the way she was pushing something on me, made me realize just how special Gibson’s support really was.

  He was the father of my child, and he wanted to actually be the father. He cared about our baby, even if he showed it in his own strange way. The mafia money was bad, but he had taken it for good reasons.

 
And I was ignoring him and avoiding him. I needed to cut the toxic people from my life, but Gibson wasn’t toxic.

  I needed to talk to him. I sighed and began to walk back home. I wasn’t going to take his money, but at the very least I needed to hear what he had to say. I couldn’t keep ignoring him and pushing him away. He was a good person, and he wanted to try to do right.

  I had to try to do the right thing, too.

  23

  Gibson

  Another morning without Avery.

  I wasn’t going to blow up her phone. I just wasn’t that kind of man. But I did have plans to stop by her place after practice. Maybe if I kept showing up, day after day, eventually I’d catch her. Eventually I’d get a chance to explain.

  Once she heard my side of the story, I’d be satisfied. She could choose to do whatever she wanted after that. Once she understood that I did it for her and that I had no other choice, I could accept whatever she chose.

  But I wasn’t some fucking coward who just gave up.

  Practice went better than the day before. I focused better, kept my head in what was happening around me, and didn’t take any massive hits. I had some small bruising around my ribs from that last tackle, but that was okay. I had played with much worse in the past.

  Once we were finished, I showered off and headed out before everyone else. I didn’t feel like explaining to Hynes or Drinkwater what was going on. They’d probably call me a stalker or some shit, which probably wasn’t too far off.

  But as I made my way across campus, my phone started buzzing. I pulled it from my pocket and answered it.

  “Hello,” I grunted.

  “Hi, Gibson.”

  I slowed down. It was Avery.

  “Hey there,” I said. “I was wondering when you’d finally call me back.”