Bad Boy's Baby: Wicked Angels MC
Read Bad Boy's Baby: Wicked Angels MC Online
Authors: Heather West
This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental.
Bad Boy’s Baby copyright 2016 by Heather West. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission.
Jenny
The hot, still air felt like a blanket around me as I walked around the Centreville Public Library closing the windows. It had been a quiet July day—not many patrons, only the regulars. I loved my job working at the local library, but sometimes it left me alone in my head for too long. My favorite days were when students came in and asked for help with research projects. Then I’d be drawn in to helping them and forget about everything else running through my mind.
It felt strange that I’d wound up in Centreville. I’d spent the whole first part of my life trying to run away. I didn’t love the town—it didn’t suit me. It never had. Growing up, Mum and Daddy had taken me on vacations all around the world. I’d never gotten over the thrill of waking up on a plane and seeing a whole new world at my feet. I loved Europe. We spent our summers walking through old cities on older cobblestones, eating at sidewalk cafes, and shopping for the most wonderful things imaginable. I loved it. I was always depressed for weeks when I’d get back home. America, especially Centreville, always seemed so ugly afterwards. Even in our big house, with four stories and servants, I still felt alone. Usually I’d spend the next six months after a trip dreaming about the next one. I
loved
to travel. Back then, I thought I’d grow up and travel the world with my love and my family at my side. Well, back then it hadn’t
seemed
impossible.
I always thought I’d grow up to be just like Mum and Daddy. They’d met in college—he was her professor—and fallen instantly in love. Even though they had a vast age difference, nothing came between them. The three of us were a perfect little family, and I loved it. When I was sad or scared, I just closed my eyes and imagined that we were a royal family, living in exile. That always made me feel better. I knew it was childish, but I couldn’t help it. It was the fantasy that I’d always carried out.
I thought I’d go to college and find a husband, then get married and settle down and have a lot of kids. I waited for that one special guy, the one who would chase me, the one who was desperately in love with me and told me all the time. But he never came. And by the time I was a teenager, things were starting to change at home. Mum was becoming obsessed with aging. Every day when I got home, she’d have some new mud treatment or mask on, or she’d been recovering from another round of facial injections. It was like she was terrified of becoming old. She lost her temper with me all the time and began to snap at me whenever Daddy would give in to me about whatever I wanted. I was frightened; this wasn’t the Mum that I’d always known. I still loved her, I desperately craved her approval. But no matter what I did, things between us got tenser and tenser with each passing day. Daddy wouldn’t interfere after I became a teenager. Whenever I went to him and told him that Mum and I were fighting, he’d light his pipe, look me in the eye, and say, “Respect your mother, Jenny. You know I raised you better than this.”
It was infuriating. Even if Mum was being completely unfair, Daddy took her side. That was when things started falling apart around us. I was bored at home. Mum wouldn’t let me take a summer job—she said only peons did that—and I started sneaking out at night. There was a crowd of kids that used to hang around at a gas station downtown. One night, I worked up the courage to go meet them. I wore my sexiest outfit—a sheer white button-down shirt over a white baby doll dress—and hoped for the best. But all of the kids knew I was an outsider. They didn’t recognize me. They went to public school and I went to Hayworth Academy, a few counties over. Closing my eyes, I saw myself back there as though it were yesterday. I could still remember the feel of the hot dry dust in my nostrils as I snuck along the back road. The gas station had been illuminated a garish yellow with the neon signs glowing in the windows, but I’d been more relieved than ever to finally reach my goal.
“Look at this little bitch,” one of the rough-looking girls sneered at me when I lowered myself onto a bench in front of the gas pumps. I’d worn chunky sandals with crisscross straps and my feet were aching and swollen. I wasn’t used to walking in heels, and I definitely wasn’t used to walking on country roads for the better part of an hour. My whole body was covered in perspiration and I wiped a clammy hand on my damp forehead. The night was humid and dark and I could feel my red hair had frizzed into a halo around my head.
“Leave her alone,” one of the guys sitting next to her muttered. He passed a joint to the girl who’d insulted me and she held it to her mouth, taking tiny, jerky sips and then passing it on. She coughed loudly. I turned to get a better look at the guy who’d stuck up for me and my heart leapt into my throat. He was gorgeous: tanned skin, messy brown hair, dark blue eyes. He was probably only eighteen or so, but he looked like a real man. An unfamiliar feeling came over my body and I felt every nerve tingling. A blush covered my face as he realized I was staring at him. But instead of looking away, he held my gaze with his. He raised his eyebrows and gave me a cocky smile. My insides melted.
“Scram,” one of the girls said. “We don’t want you hanging around here.”
The gorgeous guy hopped up from his perch and stretched. He was shirtless and I could see his well-defined pecs and chest muscles. I shivered, imagining how good it would feel to be pressed up against his skin. The heat of the night no longer mattered to me, I just wanted to be pressed against his body.
“I’ll walk you home,” the guy said. He winked at me and I felt my heart skip a beat. As he stepped closer, I made out the fine, feline features of his gorgeous face. He was the most beautiful boy I’d ever seen, and he wanted to walk me home! Me! I felt like I was walking on air as the boy slipped my hand through his arm and rested my fingertips gently on his skin. It was the first time we touched, and I knew right then, with absolute certainty, that I’d remember this moment for the rest of my life.
I was normally outspoken and loud, but around this guy, I felt really shy. I’d never felt this excited about anything in my life. Even getting off the plane in Europe with Mum and Daddy didn’t fill me with a thrill like this. Suddenly, this guy was my whole world. It was like being in the presence of the sun.
“I’m Tristan,” the guy said with a grin. “What’s your name?” He sized me up from head to toe and I was incredibly glad that I’d worn the outfit I had. Even if my feet were aching, I knew my legs looked incredible in the chunky heels.
“Jenny,” I said softly. “Jennifer Foster.”
“I’m glad you came by,” Tristan said. He winked at me. “I was getting a little bored by myself.”
I felt a blush redden my cheeks and I was glad for the darkness. “You weren’t alone,” I said. My voice sounded awkward and ungainly and I winced. “You were with your friends.”
Tristan shrugged. “They’re not really my friends,” he said offhandedly. “I just hang around with them.” He stretched his arms high in the air and I was caught off guard by how adult he looked. “I mean, they don’t really know me,” he said with a grin.
I blushed. “I don’t have a lot of friends either,” I said softly. “I mostly spend time with my parents.”
Tristan laughed. “Must be nice. I don’t get along with my folks.”
“Oh.” We walked on in silence. I couldn’t imagine not getting along with my parents. Even though Mum and I had been fighting all the time, my mother was still my best friend in the whole world. I’d told her everything for the first seventeen years of my life.
“Don’t feel bad,” Tristan said casually. He draped an arm across my shoulders. “Hey, you’re one of the first girls I’ve met who’s almost as tall as me.”
I blushed. I had noticed that little thing. I didn’t like most guys in high school for the simple reason that they were all almost a foot shorter than I was. But not Tristan. I had to crane my neck to meet his eyes, and I was almost six feet tall.
“I know. You’re the tallest guy I ever met.”
Tristan chuckled softly. I felt like an idiot; why was I having such a hard time talking to him? He was just a guy, after all.
“Hey, is this you?” Tristan pointed at the big iron gate that closed off our property. I’d always loved our house—it looked like a castle—but now I was embarrassed. Tristan was looking at me differently than he had before. I’d never even felt mildly self-conscious about how rich we were before, but suddenly I was feeling awkward. Guilty, even, which was ridiculous because it wasn’t my fault Mum and Daddy had so much money.
“It is,” I said shyly. I took a step back from Tristan and felt his eyes appreciatively hugging my body.
“Well, can I see you again? I don’t exactly have digs like that, but we could go out for dinner.”
I grinned, biting the inside of my cheek. “I’d love that.”
Just then, lights came on from inside the house. I heard footsteps scurrying down the long asphalt walk of the drive and though I couldn’t see who it was, I knew.
“Jennifer?” Mum’s voice was high and shrill. “Jennifer, is that you?”
“I’m right here, Mom,” I called out awkwardly. I looked at Tristan and shrugged. He looked uncomfortable, but he didn’t move.
“What on earth are you doing out so late?” Mum asked. She’d reached the bottom of the hill and the iron gate had swung open. Suddenly, the house looked menacing. Even Mum looked menacing: her color was high and she was clad in a silk nightgown. There was even a little pink sleep-mask perched on the top of her head. I felt ridiculous.
“I went for a walk,” I said carefully, trying to keep my voice level. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you up.”
Mum stepped forward and grabbed me by the arm. I cried out but she didn’t let go. Her face turned from angry to confused when she saw Tristan. I watched as her eyes traveled the length of his body, taking in his ripped jeans and plain black t-shirt.
“And just who is this?” Mum’s voice was mild but quiet and I could tell she was seething mad. “Jenny, who is this?” The pitch of her voice rose to a shriek when I didn’t answer right away. “Tell me!”
“I’m Tristan, ma’am,” Tristan said before I could speak. “Tristan Mayer. It’s nice to meet you.” He bowed his head courteously and I felt a surge of pride. This boy, who I’d just met tonight, was already trying to win my parents over!
“Thanks for making sure Jenny got home safely,” Mum said in a tone that implied she was anything but grateful. “I take it you’ll be leaving now.”
Without waiting for Tristan to reply, Mum steered me towards the house. It was only when we were halfway up the drive that I realized I hadn’t given Tristan my phone number. I turned around and called out his name but he was already gone.
When we got inside, Mum lectured me about Tristan for hours. She told me that I had no business hanging around with “bad boys like him” and that I needed to stay away, for my own safety. When I yelled back and cried and said that he was my friend and that I wanted to see him again, Mum called me a slut and slapped me across the face.
“No nice man will ever want you if you’re tarnished!” she yelled. Tears stung my eyes but I didn’t want the satisfaction of letting her see me cry.
When I went to bed that night, I couldn’t sleep. I kept stalking around my room and thinking about Tristan. I couldn’t believe that I’d only met him hours ago and I couldn’t get him out of my mind. Already, the image of his face was fading from my memory. I had to see him again, I just had to! I’d never felt like this about anyone. The boys at Hayworth Academy were all mean, in addition to being too short for me to consider. They did things like throw pieces of chalk at girls’ asses to ruin their uniforms. Then they’d spend the whole day laughing about it. I always thought private school boys would be sexy and exciting, but the boys at Hayworth were so dull. They were like a bunch of rowdy cousins always hanging around and making monkey noises.
In the morning, Mum, Daddy, and I had breakfast together. I sat at one end of the table and listened to Mum talking about her new charity’s upcoming gala. Daddy was funding it and we were going to have it at our yacht club that very night. I’d been looking forward to it for months. It was the first charity nighttime event that Mum was letting me attend, and I couldn’t wait. I’d even got a new gown for it, my first Oscar de la Renta. It was beautiful: white silk with a classic twist in the front of the gown and beading along the skirt and shoulder straps. I was going to wear it with white satin heels, and my hair up with a flower-crown.
“Did you hear me?” Mum’s voice broke me out of my dress fantasy. “I said, if you want to attend the gala, you have to promise not to speak to that boy again.”
