Bad Kind of Love
Page 1
Remi Rose
Copyright Remi Rose 2021
Bad Kind of Love
All Rights Reserved
This ebook is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and incidents are products of the Author's imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations or places is entirely coincidental. All rights are reserves. This book is intended for the purchaser of this book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the Author. All songs, song titles and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.
Cover Design by Tash at Outlined With Love Designs
Edited by Elsa A.K.A Bookish Aurora
Beta Read by Nikki Oakes
Table of Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Epilogue
Senior year wasn’t supposed to be complicated.
Show up, get decent grades, then graduate so I could leave this town and its painful memories in the past. But, I guess my life wasn’t meant to be easy.
And it was all because of them.
Father and son.
One was broody and broken, the other was sweet and charming.
I fell for them both, only to discover the truth that sent my world crumbling, leaving only secrets and lies between us all.
I loved two men, but in the end I chose one and destroyed the other.
DEDICATION
To my daughter.
Never give up.
PROLOGUE
Becca
11 years old
Staring out our old dilapidated window, I would wait every night to see if one day my mom would come back stumbling up the sidewalk and come barreling through the front door smelling of sour liquor and cigarettes.
But every night was a disappointment.
I never realized till now, how much I actually missed those smells.
Resting my arms across the window sill, I focus on the street lamp that flickers over the route my mom would take back home.
It’s been about three months now since she left us both. She came into my bedroom early one morning and pressed a lingering kiss to my forehead before whispering “I love you.” Any displays of affection were unusual from her, so I immediately soaked it in, wrapping my small arms around her in a tight hug. Despite her being a crappy mom most of my life, I still wanted her love. She reluctantly let me go before disappearing out of my room and life altogether.
My dad took it the hardest. Most of the time he was in denial, always coming up with excuses of why she left but deep down he knew something was wrong. In the beginning he slowly became unhinged, drinking more, and neglecting the fact he had a daughter at home to take care of. But when days turned into weeks and eventually months, he came to terms with the fact she was never coming home.
He tried his best though. He maintained a job at the factory where he worked nights and managed to at least keep the fridge somewhat stocked with food.
On the unique days where he felt whole, he’d make us our favorite meal, Chicken Parmesan and sit at our old foldable table and have dinner with me. We’d say little words to each other, but it meant the world to me knowing he was trying his best to be a good dad.
Barging through the front door, my dad's frantic eyes find me. “Becca, I need you to run up to your room and lock the door until I say it’s okay to come out.”
Removing my arms from the window, I take in the bags under my dad's eyes. He looked horrible. “What’s going on?” I ask, watching him undress out of his large winter coat and hat. His once full head of golden hair was now balding at the top, and his skin was a pale shade of white compared to my tan. He appeared way older than his 35 years.
“Nothing a kid needs to worry about.” He answers expressionlessly. “All you need to worry about is school and other kid shit.” Coming up next to me, he lowers himself till he’s directly face to face with me. “I’m doing this for us. For our future. Now please, go up to your room and lock the door.”
Gulping, I knew he was serious by the tone in his voice. His greyish eyes looked me over once more before rising up in a standing position. Rushing past him, I climbed up the rickety staircase and into my bedroom, where I locked the door and fell onto my mattress. I never called it a bed, a bed consisted of a frame and headboard. All I had was a twin size mattress that lay in the corner of my room.
Reaching under my pillow, I pull out my old CD player and headphones and place it over my ears till the loud music of Coldplay drowns out everything around me. Music has always been my safe haven. When things got tough or I needed an escape, my headphones were my lifeline to forgetting what was really going on in my chaotic life. It was my calming mechanism, wherever I went, my music went with me.
Dozing off for what only felt like minutes, I was startled by the sound of a loud thump from downstairs. Removing my headphones, I gently place them back under my pillow before pushing myself off the mattress. Tip toeing over to the door, I can hear multiple voices shouting causing me to jump in fear. We rarely had guests over and the voices didn’t sound familiar at all. They sounded angry. Placing my shaky hand on the doorknob, I slowly unlock it and push it open a crack. Peering through the slit, I don’t see anyone but clearly hear the sounds of arguing and objects shattering onto the floor.
“Where is it O’Connor?” A defiant voice roared through the house.
Opening the door some more, I weaseled my way out till I was standing out into the open hallway. With my heart racing, I warily stagger towards the staircase where I can hear the trembling voice of my dad downstairs.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He denied.
“Don’t play dumb. We know you have it somewhere around here.” Another voice joined.
What did my dad have that they wanted?
“I told you already, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He refused again.
Taking a small step down the stairs, I crouched down low enough to where I could see the scene playing out in front of me. My dad was on his knees with his hands behind his back and head down, looking completely defeated. Five men surrounded him, all were dressed in black and masks covered their faces. The dark haired man in front was kneeling down inches away from him, trying to capture his attention.
“You steal from me. Then I’ll steal from you.” The man lifts his eyes immediately connecting with mine. Terror flows through me as I scramble to my feet. My dad lifts his head and follows the masked strangers’ eyes.
r /> “Don’t you dare fucking touch her!” He seethes, trying to shake out of the handcuffs. The stranger grabs him roughly by the shoulders, halting his movements.
“I don’t plan on it.” He says coolly. Grabbing my dad’s chin, he forcefully lifts it up till he’s face to face with him. “Unless you don’t tell us where you hid our shit. Then, something will have to be done.”
A loud growl erupts from my dad's mouth, causing me to take a cautious step back.
“You.” He points a glove clad hand towards me. “Stay put.” Nodding his head towards the guy next to him, he follows his orders and stalks up the stairs toward me.
My feet seem to be glued to the floor in panic, as much as I wanted to run and hide, I knew better. Whoever these men were, they looked dangerous and insistent on getting whatever they wanted from my dad.
“Don’t try anything stupid.” He barked, seizing my arm. Peering up, he wore an off-white skull mask that covered half his face. All the men wore the same mask, except the dark-haired man.
“Now that I have your attention.” The man in front of my dad went on. “Where the fuck is my shit?”
“Fuck off.” My dad spits, glaring in resistance. The man softly chuckles before rising to his feet.
“So, that’s how this is gonna go?” He shakes his head from side to side as he removes the gloves from his hand.
Jesus dad. Just tell them where whatever they're looking for is.
I wanted to shout to him so badly.
I was beginning to shake uncontrollably, terrified by what was going to happen to both of us. By the looks of it, it wasn’t going to end well.
He cracks each knuckle on his hand before landing a harsh blow across the side of my dad’s face, sending him falling onto his side in a loud thud.
“Dad!” I cry out trying to wiggle out of the hold on my arm but it was no use. I was no match against a man twice my age and size.
“What the fuck did I say?” He yanks me back harshly, sending a sharp pain down my arm.
Tears began to fall freely as I watched my dad lay limp on the ground.
Get up.
Get up.
Seeing a slight movement of his head, I feel a rush of relief as he slowly turns his head towards me, revealing his bloody mouth that’s gushing down his face and onto the hardwood floor.
“That’s only a taste of what I can do.” The man kneels back down. “Now, I’ll give you one last chance to tell me where my drugs are.”
Drugs?
Why the heck would my dad have this guy’s drugs?
Spitting out excess blood from his mouth, my dad searches for me and mouths the words “I’m sorry.”
“Bring the girl down here.” He motioned towards the man next to me.
Dragging me down the stairs, I unwillingly let him pull me to where we were now standing directly in front of my dad. My eyes move over his helpless body, taking in the puddle of blood in front of him. His eyes capture mine, and I can see the worry and sorrow that he’s conveying. It broke my heart to see him like this.
“Now.” Black mask announces. Reaching for my shoulder, he pulls me in close to his side. Towering over my short frame, he glances down at me, giving me a view of his sinister mask. How could something appear darker than black? It sent a chill down my spine as I stared back into his dark soulless eyes. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.” Pushing me till we’re standing his front to my back, he squeezes onto my shoulders with just enough pressure that causes my dad to snarl.
“Leave her out of this!” He groans flailing on the ground, sending blood flying onto my bare feet.
“Then tell me where my drugs are, O’Connor. You didn’t think you could steal my shit, and I wouldn’t find out about it?” Leaning his head down, I can feel his warm breath hit the side of my face. The pungent smell of cigars mixed with mint soon hits my nostrils.
My dad lifts his eyes, glancing at me before he closes them in defeat. “It’s gone.”
There was a moment of silence. No one spoke, no one moved until I felt the grip on my shoulders tighten. “You stupid motherfucker.” He chuckled under his breath. But it was anything but a normal laugh that escaped from his lips, it was dark and menacing, just like him.
“I can…I can…” My dad stumbled over his words, trying to come up with something, but was interrupted.
“You can what?” Black mask roared behind me.
Startled, I feel my body start trembling under his harsh grip.
“Please.” I whisper shakily. I wasn’t naive or clueless, I knew what happened to the guy in movies that stole something from the bad guy. I knew if I didn’t say anything, my dad was as good as dead.
“What was that?” His voice dropped an octave. “Did any of you hear anything?” He asks his men trying to taunt me. They all shake their heads no.
Closing my eyes, I take in a deep breath. “Please.” I say a little louder this time. “Don’t hurt him.”
I wait and wait for an answer or at least for something, but all I get in response is a long sigh.
“Bec, stay out of it.” My dad interjects.
“No, no, no.” Black mask turns me around till I’m gazing into his wicked eyes. His face was mostly covered besides his mouth, so there was no use in trying to memorize his features for later. “How old are you little one?”
Never wavering from his intense stare, I gulp. “Eleven.”
“You seem like a smart girl, Bec.” He goes on. “Are you?”
My brows furrow from his question. “I.. I don’t know.”
“Tell me, what would you do if someone stole something very important to you?” He asked, taking a strand of my dirty blonde hair in between his fingers, coating them in blood.
Shaking my head, I knew I didn’t want to answer the trick question. “I.. I don’t know.” I reply with the same words again.
“Now, now, Bec.” He drops down till he’s eye level. “I know that’s not true. Don’t lie to me.” He growls. “What’s important to you?”
Licking my bottom lip, I glance over at my dad who’s observing our interaction with a close eye and scowl that’s directed at black mask. “My dad.” I answer truthfully.
“Not someone, something. An object.”
I was tired of answering his meaningless questions, but I knew if I didn’t, he’d focus his attention back on my dad. “My... my headphones.”
He grins. “Now, if someone stole your headphones and you were never able to get them back, what would you do?” He gauges my reaction with a straight face.
“Buy another pair.”
“And what if you couldn’t get the same ones.” He asks.
What answer was he looking for here?
“Buy something similar to that pair.” I say in a low whisper.
“And the thief? You’d let them keep and enjoy what’s most important to you?” He questioned with a surprised tone.
Shrugging, I mulled over the question. “Yes.” I state. “Obviously they needed it more than I did.”
He stared and stared, studying me till he finally rose up.
“Take the handcuffs off.” He motions toward the man behind my dad.
“But boss…”
“Now!” He shouts, causing the man to hurriedly unlock the cuffs and remove them. Rushing over to my dad, I fall to my knees and wrap my arms around him.
“It’s okay. I’m okay.” He reassures in my ear, as tears fall down my face. His weak arm wraps around me protectively.
“It’s your lucky day, O’Connor.” Black mask announces. My tear-filled eyes lift and capture him. I wanted to thank him, but he was the villain, and you never thank the villain. He was the monster in my story, even if he did spare my dad’s life.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he holds my stare for a few more seconds before nodding to his men. Turning on his heel, he stalks off and out the front door, slamming it closed behind him.
Burying my head in my dad’s neck, I let it all out. The
fear, worry, and anger from what I had just witnessed.
“Shhh.” My dad cooed, running his hand down my head. “It’s over. It’s all over.”
But it wasn’t over, it was just the beginning.
CHAPTER ONE
Becca
6 Years Later
Pulling down on the hem of my plaid skirt, I stare off into space, as I wait for my dad to come into view.
I hated this place more than anything. It smelled like a dead animal corpse that has been stuck inside a vent for too long and no one could find it. It made me physically ill to be inside this building for longer than thirty minutes, but for my dad’s sake, I sucked it up.
He’s been stuck in this shithole prison for almost five years now. Apparently, he didn’t learn his lesson about stealing that first time, because soon after he was caught in a huge sting operation and sentenced to eight years, six on good behavior. I was sent off to live with my aunt, my dad’s sister, who I barely knew at the time since my mom ran out on us. Luckily, she lived close and had a way better living situation for a young child than my parents ever could provide. I was blessed with an actual bed and my own bathroom, things I would have never gotten if I stayed home.
Suddenly, I saw a flash of orange, and my dad came waltzing out with a bright smile across his face. His hair was officially gone, but he made up his lack of hair with muscles. Ever since being locked up, he used all the extra time to work out. He made a complete one eighty transformation from when he was first locked up. Not just his looks, but his demeanor and the way he spoke and acted.
Reaching for the phone on the wall next to me, I put it up to my ear as my dad does the same.
“Bec, how are you?” He smiles, resting his arms on the counter top in front of him.
“I’m good.” I nod, taking in the new ink on his arm. “How are you?”
He surprisingly looked good for being stuck in prison.
“Good. I’m doin’ good.” He runs a hand down his hairless head. Staring through the Plexiglas that separated us, it's hard to believe that it's been six years since I’ve actually touched or hugged my dad.
“Been stayin’ out of trouble?” I raise a blonde brow, noticing a small scratch on his forehead. He never could get away with anything without me finding out. He was a shit liar.