Never Have an Outlaw's Baby Read Online

A
real man
leaves his shadow hanging over you, even later on he'due south gone.

Three years to the day since he left, and I was nevertheless blinded past his.

Get alee, judge me.

I wasn't stupid, or weak. God, I'd shed those words long agone subsequently everything I'd been through since Jackson Taylor.

Illusions could sometimes fog up my heart, only they didn't get to my head. I knew who he was, what he was, and why he'd left his big, bad impression stamped on my heart.

And I knew the future, likewise – articulate as fucking crystal.

The bastard was gone. He wasn't coming back.

That's what I told myself every single twenty-four hour period, ringing up customers at the Jiffy Hen, hoping I'd lose another mean solar day without having to call back much at all.

Didn't always work out that way. Hell, maybe never.

A daughter has enough of fourth dimension to think about right and incorrect when she's trying to pass the time. The past reaches upwards, takes her by the throat, and doesn't let go until she's shaking, cursing herself.

I thought almost Jackson constantly, and I hated information technology. Day in, day out.

The passion, the loss, the empty hole he'd carved in my chest, the void that wouldn't heal, no matter how much time passed.

My body missed him likewise. My nipples still turned to pebbles every time I thought about that night, our final night together. That was the night he'd taken me the hardest, over and over, leaving a piece of himself behind forever.

I lived in his shadow then, except information technology was a whole lot more than real.

His shadow crawled all over me like a furious demon that dark, clinging to his body over mine. Jackson slammed every ounce of strength he had between my legs while his hand jerked my hair around like reigns.

He'd owned me.

I'd let him.

I'd loved it.

I cried out when he tensed and exploded, filling me, bringing me off and then hard I scratched his back raw.

He might've been an absolute rat bounder, but the boy could sure fuck.

I had living proof of it waiting for me at domicile. The fact that he left me wet and wanting afterward all these years said something almost the blackness magic he had in every kiss, every motion, every single time he shoved me under him and shook me to my core.

Of course, I hated it. I hated everything about it – the retentiveness, the desire, the prison of this life without him.

I even hated that I hated information technology. It wasn't fair.

God. God fucking damn it!

My eyes always pinched shut at the worst times, when it became too much, fighting back the tears.

I'd battled them ten chiliad times by now. I lost more oftentimes than I wanted to acknowledge, feeling the hot tears rushing out when I was alone in the backroom on my breaks, or in my car, or changing another diaper alone.

The memories chased me like wolves, night and 24-hour interval.

Relentlessly, hounding me, directly into the dark hollow I called my life.

I remembered him every time a loud motorbike roared by on the busted upward street.

The worst were the sticky summer nights, listening to the bugs humming in the copse through my crappy apartment window. Nosotros were inbound the thickest nights now, hither in Georgia, equally alive with life and racket as they were long.

Those were the nights when I sat in my PJs after dinner, bad TV yammering in the background, fighting for distractions.

Those nights, I broke out the whiskey, toasting the times gone by before they put me in tears again.

Never more than a shot or two. I had to work early most days, afterward all. I was an adult now.

I stopped curt of that sweet, ultimate fizz that would've laid me downwardly, and allow me forget. Not for my own sake, or considering I wanted to make another helpless attempt to run away from the by, and the boy who'd left me in this lonely hell.

I had to do information technology for him.
Alex.

Leaning over his crib, I reached down and stroked my son's brow. Nighttime helped hibernate how much he looked like the face I wished I could bleach from my head forever.

He'd merely had his second birthday a couple months agone. Since the 24-hour interval he was born, I'd told myself I'd keep going, however hard it got. I'd live and die by my baby male child, and to hell with the erstwhile times wanting to get in the way of that.

Sure, days like this took the damned block.

Just they didn't end me. Nothing always would.

Not fifty-fifty when I remembered the brusk-lived forbidden romance, the peppery kisses, the passion that created the little miracle sleeping in the corner.

That was then. This sleeping, innocent infant was my now.

Alex trembled, yawned, and rolled over in his sleep.

I smiled, planting a long, desperate kiss on his forehead. "It's okay, baby male child. Long as it'due south simply you and me, we tin can take on the world. You're going to be ten times the person I've been someday. A hundred times the man your father is, besides."

I caught myself near the end, pulling away in a whisper. Had to exist more careful soon. I couldn't keep talking like that unless I wanted some
very
hard questions ripping open old wounds.

In just a few more years, he'd be talking upwards a tempest and going to school. A few years after that, he'd be thinking about life and large dreams, non to mention where he came from, wondering why he didn't take a father.

I didn't have an answer. Non fifty-fifty a noble lie to feed him, until he was quondam enough to empathize.

And that fabricated me want to intermission down all over again. I stood upwardly, pulling my bottoms tighter, hugging myself equally I stood next to the dark window, staring out at the lights in the parking lot through the blinds.

A drunken neighbor staggered through the darkness. He dropped a bottle, making a loud clang in the night, swearing to himself equally he tumbled down to option it up.

Fuck my life.

Fuck. Everything.

I'd put myself here considering I'd gotten involved with the incorrect man. Maybe I deserved it, misery as punishment, but the baby sleeping behind me sure didn't.

The longer I stared through the dusty glass, watching other tenants come and go, revving their old cars long into the night, the more than information technology caught upward with me.

Half an hour afterward, I buried my confront in my hands.

I remembered everything. I hurt and bled over it, too. The harder and improve I fought, the worse information technology caught up with me in the terminate, and tonight was one of
those
evil nights.

Oh, God.
The times gone by swallowed me alive.

* * *

Six Years Earlier

I
was working
at my Uncle Robby's bar after school when they came in. Ii loud, hollering groups of frat boys, passing by for bound break, tearing through Seddon on the way to Atlanta, or maybe the beaches farther due south.

It didn't take them five minutes for the first one to grab my ass. The smug, shiny eyed asshole pinched it – hard – and eyeballed me a hundred times harder than the card I'd just handed him.

"Yeah, I think I desire the special," he said, shooting me a savage look. "How much for a quickie?"

He pulled his hand away to slap the table while his swain assholes jeered, loftier-fiving themselves.

"Fuck, man, you looked so serious!" one of them said, roaring. "Go on it up and you'll have her panties off by sundown. These bitches love that shit."

Without missing a step, I retreated, fighting the urge to shoot him a dirty await over my shoulder. By experiences taught me fighting back would only invite more trouble. I could withal hear them by the bar.

"Have her bring us another bullpen, boys! We'll fuckin' relieve some for her when she gets off her shift. These bitches around here are all dirt poor trailer trash. They'll slobber your knob like their life depends on it for a couple drinks!"

Bastards.
I swore underneath my breath, angrily punching the keys on the bar's old computer for the order.

Worst of all, the place was empty except for the dozen higher boys, and maybe 1 or two drunken regulars over in the corner, staring sadly into their beers. Uncle Robby made a tidy profit from managing this identify since I'd been a little girl – but he did information technology on the backs of the biggest losers and worst tourist chumps around.

Seddon attracted scum similar a stagnant pond.

I served them, twenty-four hours in and twenty-four hours out, the least I could do to pay my uncle back for taking me in, now that mama was so ill.

I needed the money bad, as well. Scrimping for bad tips here was amend than null. I'd need every dime I could get with summer coming upwardly, and no proficient futurity in sight.

Homework hadn't been going so well. I'd be lucky to graduate if I couldn't become my grades up.

College wasn't fifty-fifty on the radar. Not that I had any shame.

Walking away with a GED or a high schoolhouse diploma was a large win in this boondocks, and I'd at to the lowest degree manage that. The rest could look.

If I could buy time, I'd lock downwardly promise with it.

I'd just turned 18 a couple weeks ago, after all. Time was on my side, ready to assist me kick donkey and accept names.

There wasn't anything to worry about, except surviving yet another rowdy night, praying the pricks at the table wouldn't stiff me too badly on tips.

I tried not to laugh out loud because I already knew they would.

Half an 60 minutes drifted by. Scrambling to go along the tables supplied with common cold beer and peanuts, I ran back and along betwixt the kitchen and diner, wondering why there was such a holdup with the round of burgers.

Uncle Robby was hitting the bottle again, which always meant he made mistakes as the bar'due south substitute cook. Charlie, our ane and only truthful chef, was out today.

I disrepair through the double doors and looked around, covering my mouth. The strong scent of burning meat hit me the second I was in, and I looked at the empty grill. My Uncle wasn't manning it anymore because he'd burned himself along with the beef.

I ran over, watching him nursing his hand, swearing upwardly a storm every bit he halfheartedly ran it under water.

"Hither, let me accept a await," I said softly, pushing my way to the small sink. Several puffy red blisters were already ascent on his pare.

"Oh, hell!" I allow out a whistle and shook my head. "Ouch! Looks bad, Uncle Robby! You should accept off and get it looked at."

"Shit, no, Summer. Tin can't be taking fourth dimension away. Who the hell'south gonna cook upward the orders? I'm the merely human here who knows how to make this shit when Charlie own't here."

I looked effectually desperately, anxiety weighing in my stomach. Ugh, I couldn't contend with that.

Lately, I'd been paying more than attention to the kitchen. I'd seen Charlie dorsum here making sandwiches. Sometimes, I helped him with the prep work, slicing bread and veggies while he worked the grill.

"Fuck!" Uncle Robby tried to grip the spatula. He instantly dropped it from the hurting, letting it clatter into the sink.

"Don't do this to yourself! I can take it from here, Uncle. I've watched you and Charlie melt
tons
of times! Get get it looked at. Trust me."

Wincing, he stared at me, his wrinkled face crinkling upward before he let out a long sigh. "Okay, dammit. We'll endeavor. Hurts similar I picked upward a fucking wasp's nest. You know where the meat and all the fixings are?"

I nodded. He hesitated for a minute longer before he finally headed for the door, stopping one more than time and looking dorsum at me. I was already pulling apart the frozen patties, ready to start cooking.

"You lot run across any problem with the piece of work or the coin, yous tell Tina, okay? She'due south in charge 'til I go back."

"Got it!" I hollered later him, breathing a sigh of relief when the door slammed shut.

I worked like a fiend in the kitchen. In no fourth dimension, I had half the order ready, only stumbling a little bit when I plunged the fries into oil.

Information technology all smelled heavenly. My tummy growled, and I smiled, glad that I'd finally had a run a risk to do something right today.

The minor victories meant a lot. I couldn't practice much to help mama with her bills or the sickness eating her up. I'd never be a grade A student. Merely, damn, if I couldn't cook like my life depended on it.

I was so busy prepping all the food I didn't hear the heavy double doors open.

"Yo, where the fuck's our eats?" a voice said behind me.

I spun around and came face up-to-face with the same bleary eyed idiot who'd grabbed me earlier. My hands shot upwardly, and motioned to the plates with burgers off to the side.

"Merely a few more minutes! I'grand sorry most the await, sir, nosotros're a little short handed." Calling him anything besides
asshole
caught in my throat, but a little southern hospitality went a long style toward smoothing things over, especially in crisis situations like this.

"What the fuck?" He looked around. "There's only six plates here. Nutrient'due south gonna be cold past the fourth dimension you're done half-assing it! Allow me help."

Aid?!
He couldn't be serious.

Earlier I could say anything, he lunged for the frozen patties next to me, haphazardly slapping them on the grill.

"Hey, hey! Stop! You need to become back to your seat. You're not allowed back hither. I already told you, information technology's coming –"

"Bullshit." He shoved me to the side, grabbing the spatula out of my manus." Move over, doll, and let a human being evidence you how the job's washed. You can thank me later with those pretty little lips."

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