Baby Bitch (Bitches and Queens) (8 page)

Hannah turned off the light and came to
bed. Tonight, there would no cuddling, as she stayed stiffly on her side of the
bed. After several long moments, she finally spoke into the darkness. “He is
just using her.”

“I know,” Willow replied.

“He will break her heart.”

“I know.”

“Then how can you be all right with
this?”

“I’m not—not really,” Willow answered. “I
just know that the more we say no, the more she will want him. I also know it
takes a lot of broken hearts to find the one,” she whispered as she reached
across the mattress for Hannah’s hand. At first, she thought she would push her
away, but Hannah surprised her by holding her hand tight and pulling it across
her waist.

Hannah rolled to her side. Once Willow
was pressed up snuggly to her back, she whispered, “I hate this.”

“I know,” Willow said as she leaned up
and kissed Hannah’s temple.

“I screamed at her.”

“It was the first time in eighteen years
that you ever raised your voice to either of our children. It was bound to
happen one time or another.”

“No, you don’t understand. I could barely
control myself.”

Willow rolled Hannah over until they were
sharing the pillow face-to-face. She kissed her urgently and then whispered
fervently against her mouth, “You are not her. Do you understand me, Hannah
Mallory? You are
not
her.”

Hannah weakly nodded. She wanted to
believe. God, how she wanted to believe, but in the deep recesses of her mind, she
heard a mocking peal of laughter. The sound belonged to her deceased adopted
mother. Several years ago, after going through hell and back, Hannah had
finally buried that monster once and for all. Or so she believed.

“Trevor, this is my mother, Hannah and my
other mother, Willow,” McKenna introduced formally.

“Trevor, nice to meet you. Please sit
down,” Willow said with a warm smile.

Hannah remained polite but aloof. She sat
beside Willow on the sofa. Willow’s arm was loosely draped across her
shoulders. It might look like a sign of affection, but it was really more like
a very subtle choker collar in case she freaked out and suddenly lunged across
the coffee table.  

“So tell us about yourself, Trevor,”
Hannah said with a faint smile.

“I work for my uncle. He has a motorcycle
shop across town.”

Several long and tense minutes passed and
McKenna was relieved that both of her parents had played nice. Or so she
thought. As they were walking out the door, Hannah stopped them. “Trevor, we do
brunch every Sunday. You will be here,” she commanded.

“Yeah sure. I’ll try to make it.”

“Good,” Hannah smiled.

McKenna turned around and glared at her.
She knew what she was thinking. Her mom might be able to influence her
behavior, but she had no such affect on Sam. No could stop him once he started—except
Hannah. When she returned her heated look with a wink, McKenna knew she had no
intention of censoring him. Hannah was going to unleash her queen.

“Just pull over at the stop sign and
we’ll switch places,” Trevor said.

“But it’s my car.”

“It’s bad enough I had to park my bike in
front of your house. I don’t want to be seen being driven around by a girl.”

“Will it hurt your reputation?” McKenna
teased.

“Something like that.”

McKenna waited until they were out of the
neighborhood and then pulled off along the side of the road. It felt so strange
being on a real date with him. She could hardly believe it was actually
happening until their paths crossed in front of the headlights.

“Come here, you,” Trevor chuckled. He
pulled her into his arms and then whispered against her mouth, “I missed you
this afternoon.”

Like a plant soaking up the sun’s love,
McKenna pressed herself against his hard body. Her lips curled upward as he
lavished her mouth with his hot kiss.

Trevor pulled back slightly and groaned
huskily, “I’ve never kissed a woman who smiles so much.”

“I can’t help it. You make me very
happy.”

“Good,” Trevor punctuated against her
lips and then playfully pushed her towards the passenger’s side.

Once he was situated in the driver’s
seat, he shifted the Escalade out of park. “So which one is the man?”

“Huh?”

“You know—which one of your
mothers
is
the man? One of the dykes is the guy and the other is the chick. I bet it’s the
blond. I saw the way you both kept looking at her all nervous like.”

McKenna held her tongue. Trevor would be
so perfect if he could just learn to be a little more sensitive. Not to mention
the fact he made a living doing illegal stuff.

“Mommy…” she started.

“Seriously McKenna, you’ve got to knock
that
mommy
shit off,” Trevor interrupted.

“What else am I supposed to call them—Mom
One and Mom Two. That just sounds stupid,” McKenna pouted.

“They have names, don’t they?”

“Yes, but I don’t ever refer to them by
their first names. Do you address your parents that way?”

“No,” Trevor muttered harshly. “My mother
was a white-trash, piece-of-shit whore that ran away when I two years old and I
already told you my old man was a snitch. The only thing I call them is the
past.”

“I’m sorry,” McKenna whispered.

Trevor glanced her way. His eyes were so
consumed with heat and fury that she started to shiver. He took a deep breath
and then grumbled, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Go on, what were you
saying about your mother?”

McKenna licked her lips nervously. “My
mother
…”
she paused until he gave her slight nod of approval…“is very hard to impress. I
told you she was once very famous and her over protection of my brother and me
borders on paranoia. I swear—she so is thoroughly convinced someone will try to
kidnap one of us that she has never allowed our pictures to be published. She
won’t even travel with us. We go on family vacations, but Kenyon and I have to
fly separately. The first time I actually flew with her was just a few weeks
ago. It sounds crazy, I know.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Trevor shrugged. “But it
also kind of makes sense. There are a lot of bad people out there, and she is
probably worth millions.”

“I don’t know. We never discuss money,”
McKenna answered. “I do know my older brother, Sam, is a billionaire.”

“No shit? Your father…”

“Don’t call him
that
,” McKenna
declared emphatically.

“Sorry,” Trevor grumbled. “Your older
brother is a billionaire?”

“Yes, but you would never know it unless
you stepped inside his closet. His real father was a software engineer and
started his own business.”

“What is he—some techno freak or
something?”

“God good, no. Sam is a photographer. If
you wanted to date a girl with money, you should have gone after his daughter,
Abigail.”

“Hey,” Trevor frowned. “I’ve got the girl
I want. I don’t care about your money.”

McKenna let a puff of air and then
smiled. “I know. I was just teasing. Oh, and another thing about Sam is that
sometimes he likes to dress in drag.”

“What?” Trevor exclaimed.

“You heard me right. So don’t be shocked
on Sunday if he is dressed like a woman.”

“Is he a faggot?”

“No, Sam is married to a woman, and they
have a daughter.”

“There are a lot of married fags with
kids.”

“Sam isn’t gay,” McKenna declared
adamantly.

“Whatever,” Trevor groaned. “Jesus
Christ, your family is fucked up.”

McKenna didn’t want to discuss it
anymore. Yes, her family was different. Yes, they kept secrets and told lies.
But she didn’t like feeling as if they pack of freaks in a traveling carnival.
It made her feel defensive, which soured her mood. Tonight was their first real
date and she hoped it would be their first something else too.

“I was
thinking
,” McKenna started
shyly, “maybe we could skip the movie?”

Trevor looked over with a knowing smile.
“What else did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Maybe we
could go somewhere and be alone? But first, we have to buy the ticket stubs.”

Trevor chuckled. “Will she demand to see
them?”

“Probably not, but she will go through my
purse and search my pockets until she finds them.”

“Seriously?” Trevor questioned.

“Oh yeah, nothing gets past her.”

“Hmm,” Trevor murmured. “We will just see
about that, doll face.”

McKenna shivered again, only this time it
was with anticipation. She fervently hoped he was thinking the same thing she
was thinking. After a quick trip through a restaurant drive-thru and to the
movie theater for unused tickets, they were on their way.  Trevor drove until
they were alone on quiet country road. He pulled off on the side, cut off the
engine, and then pulled her in his arms.

His long, slow, drugging kisses were her
undoing. She felt her very essence evaporate into him. McKenna couldn’t get
close enough. She wanted to feel him everywhere. She wanted to feel him inside
her.

As his lips trailed a fiery path down the
column of her throat, his hand slipped to the bottom of her sequined tank top.
His fingers meandered around her tight tummy and spine. A few of the spots were
quite ticklish, and she jerked in response. She felt him smile against her
skin.

“Didn’t you like that?” he teased. “Maybe
I should touch you here instead,” he said as his hand slipped up and toyed with
bra strap. “Has anyone ever touched you here?”

“No,” McKenna whispered.

Trevor slipped the strap down her creamy,
pale shoulder. He touched her very gently at first. His thumb drew lazy circles
around her pale, rose-colored nipple. McKenna held her breath in anticipation.  Over
the years, she had heard several of her friends talk about how good it felt,
but it wasn’t at all what she expected. At first, she felt nothing. Maybe her
breasts weren’t very sensitive? Second-guessing herself, she started to feel
very awkward and let out a soft moan. To her ears, it sounded so obviously
put-on, but Trevor didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he palmed her and plucked at
her nipple with more enthusiasm.

Just as she was silently praying he would
move on to bigger and better things, she started to feel something. It wasn’t
exactly good but more like on the verge of being good. It could have felt
fantastic, but something was missing. She closed her eyes and tried to figure
out what it might be and then she noticed how tense she was. No wonder she
couldn’t enjoy the feel of his hands on her body. She was coiled up tighter
than a ball of string. Forcing herself to relax, she took a deep breath and
focused on happy thoughts.

Several moments later, she was once again
back in the moment with Trevor, only this time he was setting her body on fire.
She pressed closer, desperate for him to squelch the flames, but he abruptly
pulled back.

He let out a harsh, ragged breath.
“Sorry, doll face, but we’ve got to stop.”

“What? Now?” McKenna cried.
Not when
it was just starting to get so good.

“This isn’t the right time,” Trevor
declared roughly. “And it sure as hell isn’t the right place.”

“It could be,” McKenna pleaded.

“Just say thank you. One day, I won’t be
able to stop myself.”  

McKenna was mortified, Abigail was irate,
and Sam was in rare form—outrageously flirting with Trevor. McKenna followed
Hannah into the kitchen. As she taking the muffins out of the oven, McKenna
demanded, “Make him stop!”

 “Oh, Sam is harmless,” she dismissed
airily.

“He is making everyone uncomfortable out there,
especially Trevor,” McKenna gritted through her teeth.

Hannah blinked innocently before
murmuring, “Hmm, seems to me that is more Trevor’s problem than Sam’s.”

McKenna whirled around angrily and
stomped back towards the dining room, but the sight that greeted her stopped
her dead in her tracks. Sam had taken her chair. He was leaning in ever so
provocatively, completing evading Trevor’s personal space.

“So you drive a motorcycle. How fabulous.
I would
looove
to ride you… Oops, I meant
it
, some day,” Sam
purred.

Hannah had come to stand behind McKenna.
She leaned over her shoulder. McKenna heard her quietly giggle with delight.
Then Hannah whispered so softly that only she could hear, “It’s best he knows
exactly who and what you are now to avoid any future complications.”

As Hannah sashayed past her, McKenna was
silently seething with fury. At that moment, she didn’t know who made her more
furious—Sam for putting on a big gay charade or her mother for making him to do
it.

“That’s enough, Sam,” Hannah chuckled as
she placed the bowl of muffins on the table. “I’m sorry about that, Trevor. Sam
can get a little carried away sometimes.”

“A
little
?”  Kenyon questioned.

Sam looked across the table and winked at
him.

“Now, that’s just disturbing,” Kenyon
laughed.

“Just think, one day you’ll grow up and
become this,” Sam said wistfully as he waved his hands down his torso.

“Oh yay,” Kenyon retorted drily.

Trevor muttered something incoherently
under his breath. McKenna was too nervous to meet his eyes when she sat back
down.
God, what he must be thinking?
She had tried to warn him, but she
never dreamed Sam would go this far. What was he thinking? Poor Abigail.
McKenna glanced over at her. She was staring down at her plate intently. Her
lips were pierced tightly together. The word rage barely began to describe her
reaction. McKenna thought if she just stared long enough that Abby would
eventually look up. She wanted her know that she wasn’t alone. They were in
this together. They felt the same way. But Abby never looked up.

“I’ve never been more serious, McKenna,”
Trevor quietly fumed as she walked with him down the driveway. “You had better
tell your faggot ass…” he growled as he pointed back towards the house,
“…brother if he ever tries that fucking shit on me again, I’ll take him out.”

“Please Trevor,” McKenna pleaded. “Sam
didn’t mean anything. He’s not even gay. I swear.”

“Bullshit,” Trevor snarled. “He’s a
fucking prancing fairy. The only reason I didn’t knock his ass out was because
you were there.”

“Trevor, I’m sorry. I promise I will tell
Sam he has to behave himself the next time,” McKenna cried.

“There ain’t gonna be a next time. If he
does that shit again, he’s a dead man,” Trevor gritted through his teeth.

McKenna took a step back. She cocked her
head to the side as her beseeching expression changed to one of bewilderment.
“That’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?”

“Fuck no.”

“Sam’s not gay. I know you don’t believe
me, but he’s not. Even if he were homosexual, if you think about it, you should
take it as a compliment—not something to kill another person over.”

“Maybe in your world,” Trevor snapped
back. “I get that you were raised by a bunch of queers and faggots, but where I
am from it isn’t acceptable.”

“Then maybe I’m not either,” McKenna whispered.
As soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to snatch them back. She was
reeling with a toxic combination of fear and anger.

“Doll face,” Trevor said softly. “This
isn’t about you and me. It’s about your fucked-up family.”

“They’re not…” McKenna started but Trevor
quickly interrupted.

“Sometimes when you’re in the middle of it,
you can’t see the mess around you,” Trevor whispered compassionately. “Trust me
on this, they are
fucked up
. They’re a bunch of fucking liars. You said
so yourself. They don’t want you, not really, unless you are just like them.
I’ve lived in that kind of shit my whole life. I know what it is about. They
will never love you, not like…”

“Like what?” McKenna rushed.

Trevor looked down at the ground and then
slowly back at her face with a shy grin. He cupped her cheek and then whispered
against her lips, “They’ll never love you the way I do.”

“What is
wrong
with you?” Abigail
screamed as soon as they got inside their home.

“Oh come on, Abby,” Sam groaned. “You
know I was just pretending because McKenna’s new boyfriend is such a turd.”

“You were disgusting,” Abigail cried as
she ran back to her bedroom

Kate hovered for a moment before she left
to console Abby. “You did lay it on a bit thick.”

“I thought my performance was spot-on.
She wanted a queen so I gave her one.” Sam shrugged indifferently.

“Really?” Kate suspiciously. “You’ve
always wanted to ride a motorcycle?”

“Babe, you know, if you ever got a
motorcycle, I would ride you on it anytime you liked,” Sam retorted.

Kate raised her eyebrow suggestively.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”

As soon as she left, his phone started
ringing. It was Hannah. He answered by saying, “I’ll have you know I am in
trouble because of you.”

“Considering all the times I saved your
ass, I think you owe me one. Are you alone?”

“Why?” Sam whispered. “Are we about to
discuss something naughty?”

“I want your honest opinion, Sam. Am I
overreacting?”

Sam figured that was the reason she had
called, but he refused to answer until he knew how she was handling this.
“Before I answer, I want to know how you are doing.”

“I’m fine,” Hannah clipped.

“You’re fine?” Sam mimicked warily.

“I’m fine, Sam. I’m back on my
medications,” Hannah groaned impatiently.

“That’s probably for the best,” he
answered quietly.

Two days ago was the first he had ever
heard of Trevor Dean. To be fair, he tried to approach him with an open mind.
Certainly, he appreciated Hannah’s reservations and if he were in her shoes, he
would probably be taking medication as well. But he wasn’t in her shoes—technically
speaking. Both McKenna and Kenyon would always hold a special place in his
heart. How could they not? After all, they were his biological children.
Sometimes with Kenyon it was easy to pretend that he was just his older
brother, but it had always been a bit trickier with McKenna. She was his. There
was no denying it. Their relationship had always been complicated, yet at the time,
remarkably easy. Many times, he yearned to be her real father but was also
relieved that he wasn’t.

Occasionally, his protective instinct was
too strong to deny—like today, when he met Trevor. It wasn’t so much a feeling
Sam had about him as a vibe he picked up on. He wasn’t sure what it was about
him, but Sam couldn’t stand Trevor. Yes, he had gone a tad bit overboard at
brunch, but he had wanted to expose him. Not all straight men, himself
included, were that easily ruffled. Damn, he almost had him too. Trevor had
been on verge of calling him out. Had Hannah not insisted he stop, Sam was
certain Trevor would have tried to kick his ass.
Tried
.

Sam took a deep breath and then admitted,
“No, I do not think you are overreacting.”

“I knew it,” Hannah hissed.

“I didn’t like the way he looked at her—as
if she belonged to him like a piece of property,” Sam confessed.

“I noticed that the other day too. When I
told Willow, she said she thought it was romantic.”

“Yes, well, remember Willow fell in love
with an insane person. I’m not sure her opinion on the subject is valid,” Sam
retorted.

“McKenna is Willow’s daughter.”

She’s mine too.
“So what is your plan?”

“I don’t have one.”

Sam chuckled. “You
always
have a
plan.”

“I don’t,” Hannah answered sincerely.
“I’m at a loss. Tell me what to do.”

“What do you want to do?”

“What do I want to do or what do I think
I should do?” Hannah questioned. “The two are entirely different. Willow thinks
we should wait it out, but I don’t trust him.”

Sam tried to think rationally, which
wasn’t necessarily his go-to mode of thought, but figured one of them had to do
it. If Abby ever tried something like this… Well, maybe it was for the best he
didn’t consider it. This was McKenna they were discussing, and as much as he
hated to admit it, she was increasingly showing signs of being every bit as
stubborn, determined, and foolish as he had been at that age.
Hmm, let’s
see, what did Dad do with me?
Hannah could put her in rehab. They could try
a twenty-eight day Trevor Dean detox.
Fuck, that never worked for me.

“How far has this thing gone?” Sam asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Are they having sex yet?” Sam questioned
drily.

“No, I don’t think so,” Hannah answered.

“But you don’t know for certain?” Sam
clarified.

“No, I don’t know for certain, but I am
ninety-nine percent certain that they aren’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I have been going through her
dirty laundry.”

“Are you speaking figuratively or
literally?”

“I’ve been checking her panties, Sam,”
Hannah snapped.

“Seriously? What the hell are you looking
for?”

“Blood, hair, basically anything that
doesn’t look like it belongs to her or shouldn’t be there.”

Sam was dumbfounded. He never would have
thought to do something like that. He made a mental note to tell Kate she
needed to start doing that with Abby. Obviously, she wouldn’t find anything but
it was never too soon to get into the habit.

“I know you will hate hearing this, but I
don’t know what to tell you except maybe Willow is right.”