The Bad Boy Next Door: Lance & Chastity (3 page)

“Pardon her,” Mom whispers in the kitchen. Does she think I can’t hear her? “She gets like this when—”

“I can hear you!” I holler.

“What’s going on?” my younger sister Charity asks, sticking her head out of her bedroom. She’s fourteen. The song
Dark Horse
by Katy Perry drifts out.

“Mom. As usual,” I growl.

“Oh. What’d you do this time?”

“I broke the dress code.”

“You always break the dress code,” she says smugly.

I scowl, “Do you want me to tell Mom you’re listening to Katy Perry?” Mom considers Katy Perry a whore, Britney Spears a slut, and Lady Gaga the Anti-Christ.

Charity’s eyes bulge and she whips her door closed. Without slamming it of course. Otherwise Mom would be down here yelling at both of us.

I swear, if it wasn’t for Charity, I would move out of this heaven hole tomorrow. Yes,
heaven
hole. Because the stench of religion around here is enough to make you gag. But I would never forgive myself for leaving Charity behind to fend off Mom’s righteousness on her own. If I could, I’d take Charity with me, but Mom would never let that happen.

I close my own bedroom door behind me and stand in front of my closet. What can I wear that won’t make me look like a prude in front of Lance? It’s a tough call because half my clothes are prudish, thanks to Mom. The other half of my wardrobe is merely boring, again thanks to Mom. She didn’t use to be this uptight. Religious yes, but after the divorce she turned into a puritan. I’m convinced Dad left because Mom has always been a bit too righteous for her own good. He was never into church like she is. I really don’t blame him for leaving. If I could divorce Mom, I would’ve done it when Dad did. I wanted to live with him but the court had other ideas.

++++8++++

CHASTITY

FOUR YEARS AGO.

My world is ending.

I’m fourteen.

I sit on the edge of my bed, my dad beside me.

My curtains are closed, muting the bright California sun, drenching my room in gloom. It feels like someone is ramming a jackhammer through my stomach. All I can manage to choke out is one word:

“Why?”

“Because we have to do what the judge ordered, Chaz.” Dad says it with potent sadness. His arm is around my shoulder as he explains the details of my family’s destruction in a tired voice. “The judge said that you and your sister will live here at the house with your mother during the school year, but you get to live with me in my new apartment all summer long. We’ll get to do all kinds of fun things. Isn’t that terrific?” He doesn’t sound like he thinks so. He sounds like it’s the worst thing ever because it is. He’s just putting on a brave face. Too bad I can see right through it. At least he’s trying.

“Do I get to see you during the school year? Like, at all?” My voice is shaky with low grade terror. The idea of being imprisoned with my mom for nine months at a time scares me to death.

He smiles half-heartedly, “One weekend every single month.”

“One weekend? That’s it?”

His face cracks, his silent sadness pouring out like a bursting dam. “That’s all the judge would allow. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“No, Dad!” I whine. “I want to live with you!”

He stares at me, his eyes wet. “I’m sorry, princess. I tried. I really tried. But we have to do what the judge says.”

“No!” Tears stream down my face. “I don’t want to do what any stupid judge says!”

Defeated, he whispers, “We have to, princess. We don’t have any choice.”

I smear tears with the back of my hand. “This is Mom’s fault, isn’t it? She made everybody think she was a saint and you were the devil, didn’t she?”

I wish I could’ve been in court to play videos of how she really is. Mom is the insane one. She couldn’t talk to Dad without turning it into a fight. She’s the same way with me most of the time. But I never have fights with Dad. It’s all her.

Dad opens his mouth to speak. “I—”

“
Nooo!!!!
” A shrill scream erupts from across the hall, piercing my heart. Charity. She’s ten. She sounds like someone is murdering her. Mom is telling her the bad news in her bedroom. “
Nooo! I hate you! Hate you!! Hate YOU!!!!
“
I!!!! HATE!!!! YOU!!!!!!!!
” Charity shrieks so loud it sounds like she’s going to rupture her vocal cords.

My hands start to shake as her panic bleeds into mine.

Dad jolts against my side, sucking back a silent sob. His voice shivers, “Everything’ll be okay, princess. I promise. Everything will be okay.”

I don’t believe him.

The sad thing is, he doesn’t believe himself either.

++++8++++

CHASTITY

PRESENT DAY.

I shiver as I stuff the memory back down in my stomach where I keep it and others like it. At times like this, my body copes by turning everything down to a low hum, but it’s a foggy dentist’s drill hum in my stomach.

Whir.

Not pleasant, but better than freaking out at the old memory.

Since that time four years ago, Dad has sadly become more distant. Not emotionally. Emotionally he’s always there for me and Charity. But he had to take a management job in Illinois because he couldn’t afford to pay alimony
and
child support
and
his bills on what he made here in California because Mom doesn’t work. She never has and still doesn’t. She’s so lazy.

When Dad first moved away, I didn’t understand why. Now I do. For the past two years, I’ve had an after school job dishing up ice cream at Marble Slab Creamery and I know all about budgets because I make so little.

I don’t blame Dad for leaving.

I blame Mom for making him leave.

No matter what she thinks, Dad is normal. He doesn’t tell me I have to dress or act a certain way. He’s not overly protective but he’s not overly permissive either. Believe me. He proved it the time I was visiting him two summers ago, the time we spent the day at Foster Beach out at the lake. When Charity and I were playing in the water, I met a cute boy named Ethan who had a great body and tattoos and little nipple rings
.
When Dad waved us in from the water, I told Ethan I was going to Chase Park that night to watch
Sixteen Candles.
I didn’t mention Dad and Charity would be there too.

Chase Park has outdoor movies every summer and you can bring food. Dad bought hot dogs, which he wouldn’t let us put ketchup on. It’s a Chicago thing. Anyway, that night at the park, Ethan walked up to where we were all sitting on our picnic blanket. He wore a Chicago Bulls sleeveless jersey and ratty shorts. His tattoos were so obvious. He smiled at me with the cutest grin and said, “What up, Chaz?”

“Hey, Ethan,” I giggled, already blushing. I didn’t think he’d show up.

“Who’s this guy?” Dad asked.

Ethan ignored him and grinned at me, “Hey, Chaz. You wanna go sit with me and my boys?” He nodded toward the other side of the huge crowd.

He was so cute, all I could say was, “Ummm…”

Dad said, “Why don’t you sit with us, Eeth?”

Ethan did, but he and I were both totally uncomfortable the whole time because Dad sat between us. Amazingly, Dad acted reasonably casual and didn’t try to scare Ethan off. After that night, I never saw Ethan again. But at least Dad let him sit with us. If it had been Mom, she would’ve embarrassed me to death by either yelling at Ethan until he ran off or talked about God until he ran off.

The thing I like about Dad is he never talks about God and he never asks me about church. Ever. He’s a reminder there’s a whole world out there that doesn’t obsess about your eternal soul every second of the day. Don’t get me wrong. He expects me to be a good person and work hard at school. But whenever I visit him, it’s like I can breathe again.

Being around Mom is suffocating. It’s gotten to the point where I don’t even know if I believe in God anymore. It’s not like the guy ever talks to me. Mom says “He” talks to her all the time. I don’t know if I believe her. But if he is real, I can’t imagine he’d want me to live in the prison of fear Mom built around us after she drove Dad off. It just seems… wrong.

Whir.

No matter how many times I asked Mom if Charity and I could go live with Dad in Illinois during the school year, she said no. She would get so angry when I asked, all red in the face and shaking, I started to worry she was going to explode or have a stroke or whatever. It didn’t help that Charity would always start crying and screaming when Mom said no. So I stopped asking.

Whir.

The good news is, I’m only trapped in this house for two more days. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. For me, anyway. Charity has four more years of this business. I worry about her. I don’t want her turning into Mom. Sometimes, she sounds just like her.

Whir.

I don’t want to think about it.

More importantly, I need to pick out something to wear.

Something Lance will like.

I stand in front of my closet mirror in a clean white bra and my cutoffs, holding up two different shirts on hangers, trying to decide which one looks better on me.

My bedroom door opens quietly.

“Get out of here, Charity,” I grumble, not bothering to look.

When she doesn’t respond, I turn and nearly have a heart attack.

Lance.

I gasp and hold the two shirts protectively against my nearly naked chest. At least I haven’t given him vampire permission to enter my bedroom. So I’m safe.

He steps over the threshold and closes the door behind him.

Oh. My. Gosh.

This can’t be happening. But it is

I’m quivering all over once again. All I can think about is Lance and the lance in his pants. I bite my lower lip. If anything
sinful
happens in my very own bedroom, I blame Mom. She was the one who let the vampires in.

“Get out of here!” I hiss. “If my mom finds you in here, she’ll cut your bean bags off!”

“Bean bags?” Lance’s slow grin spreads like warm butter.

It makes me desperately want to spread my legs so he can spread himself all over me with his hot butter knife… gulp.

“At this point,” Lance smirks, “I don’t think your Mom remembers her own name.”

“What are you talking about?” I whisper frantically, still cowering behind the shirts. If Mom walks in and sees Lance, she will kill both of us.

“She’s all over my dad in your kitchen. I think they’re gonna fuck.”

“What?! You are lying. My mom would never…” Would she? Not with me and Charity in the house for sure. But… is it possible? I mean, I’m pretty sure Charity and I didn’t get here by immaculate conception. But still. We’re talking about Mom. After Dad, I seriously thought she would never date again. I suppose miracles do happen from time to time. “Seriously?”

“Go see for yourself.”

I’m half tempted. But there’s a ridiculously hot guy blocking my way. And I have no shirt on. I could put one on, but I’d be exposing myself to Lance. I could just hold the shirts in front of me, one in front and one in back, and poke my head in the kitchen. But if I did that, Mom would… Same thing: early grave. R.I.P. Chastity Shields. It doesn’t help matters that Lance is not being a gentleman and offering to turn around so I can dress. I hiss, “What are you doing in here?”

“I told them I had to take a leak. Your mom said the bathroom was down the hall.”

“Does this look like the bathroom?!”

“It looks like my lucky day…”

My jaw drops. My panties are about to follow.

His eyes drill into my soul.

Does he want to kiss me? The look on his face says he wants more than that. Oh gosh. My heart hammers in my chest and my pulse throbs between my legs. I completely forget where I am. Whatever Lance has in mind is fine with me, but he needs to be the one to start this ball rolling. I may regret it for eternity, but I’ll worry about that later.

Lance is so gorgeous it hurts.

I will
totally
sin for him…

The sound of Mom’s muffled laughter drifts through my bedroom wall. It shocks me back to reality. I haven’t heard her laugh like that in forever. Maybe ever.

This is impossible.

Lance McKnight and his father Rod dropped into our lives and upset the balance of the universe.

I can’t imagine what’s going to happen next.

There’s a
squonk!
in the kitchen as chairs shift around on the hardwood.

“Lance?” Rod’s voice booms. “Where’d you go, son?”

Now my heart really stops. I can hear Mom and Rod walking out of the kitchen and heading toward my bedroom, which is like two seconds from the kitchen.

I hiss, “
Ship!!
”

Lance smirks, “Did you just say ship?”

“
Shut up!!
” I whisper.

I’m practically topless in my bra.

Lance is staring at me like he’s hungry.

Mom is going to crucify me and drive a wooden stake through Lance’s heart if she sees us like this!

Unholy crap!

Chapter 3

LANCE

“What are you two up to in here?” Dad asks, all smiles.

Mrs. Shields stands beside him in the open doorway, eyeing me and Chastity suspiciously.

Chastity threw on a white T-shirt before the door opened, but she looks like a squirrel frozen in the middle of the road right before you run it over.

“This is not the bathroom,” Panty Shields says to me.

I grin, enjoying all this juicy family drama. “I got lost on the way.”

She narrows her eyes. “In a three bedroom house?”

I shrug. “Tried the first door I found.”

Panty Shields’ eyelids flutter at me like she’s trying to make me disappear just by thinking about it. “The bathroom is
that
way.”

“Show me the way?” I wink like I’m asking Panty Shields for a bathroom blowjob. Just to piss her off.

All the skin on her face peels back in horror.

I almost laugh because I’m picturing fire shooting out her mouth like a flame thrower.

She says: “The. Bath. Room. Is. Right. Be. Hind. Me.”

I’d like to be right behind her because she sure is a feisty bitch. When was the last time this woman got laid? Poor thing. “Pardon me,” I say all polite as I shoulder between her and Dad where they’re blocking the door. It’s such a tight squeeze it almost seems reasonable when I turn to the side and brush my cock through my jeans across her thigh at the last second. Yeah, I’m still hard from staring at Chastity with her perfect tits nearly popping out of her bra.