Step-Granddaddy’s Love Chapter 01 - Kissing My Step-Granddaddy

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I was hiding in my bedroom, hugging my ragged stuffed bear, waiting for the storm to pass. I had considered crawling under the wooden frame, but I was no longer a child. My curvy ass and generous boobs were making it impossible to use my old hiding places and short of instantly becoming invisible, this was the end of the line for me. There was nowhere else that could be safer, except outside. But it wasn't safe for me to bolt out now.

My mom was drunk again and she was having an argument with Bobby, Donny, whatever his name was. He was shouting and she was shrieking and they were both busy throwing at each other whatever shit we still had left in this dumpster of an apartment.

He thought she was cheating on him and she thought he could go fuck himself.

I thought I heard the TV screen break and I sighed, giving my teddy a hard squeeze. Goodbye Gilmore Girls, it was nice watching you. Nice pretending that Lorelai was my real mom and that I was sweet Rory, young, smart and full of promise.

But the truth was… I was likely going to die here, a nobody. Unimportant. Unwanted. Hardly missed. I had tried to run away, several times, but I kept coming back because what was out there was equally dangerous for a girl like me, with no money, no friends, no reliable work.

My eyes filled with unshed tears and I buried my head into Sir Cuddlesworth, wetting his matted fur. He was my only friend in the world and he knew my soul better than anyone.

A particularly loud “fuck you” made me jump up in my bed. I pondered whether I should be going out there, doing something, calling someone, but I was all alone in this Hell.

So I stayed put.

I stayed safe.

I could never get men’s weird outbursts of jealousy. Wasn’t it obvious that this was all there was, with my mom? She was a crack addict, living from high to high. Pills and bottles were her only constant lovers. Come on, even I knew it and I was called the dumb teen tease around here. But Johnny here somehow thought he was different. He thought she loved him. He thought he was the only man in her life. He thought she had a life… and a future.

It made me want to laugh, not a funny laugh, but a bitter, hollow, despairing one, yet I needed to be quiet. The last time I made noise and drew attention to myself, the guy broke my arm before I managed to wrestle free and run out the door. He had wanted to take his frustrations with my mother out on my innocent body. Truth be told, I was rather lucky that all he had managed to do was break a bone. He could have broken me.

And my mom? She hadn't bothered to rescue me. I could still see her, in my mind’s eye, standing there high as a kite, against the wall, while I screamed and shouted at my assailant. I got away all on my own, in the end, anyway. So you see, it doesn't matter. Nothing does. Tommy doesn't matter. Not even I do. So whoever his name was, I hoped he was going to be a good guy and to stop shouting, to just get her high, get his complimentary fucking out of the way and get lost. By next week there was going to be someone else in his place anyway.

Which was why I never bothered paying attention to any of them. Who cared what their names were, what they did for a living, or what they thought about my white trash mom, me, us. By next week, there was going to be someone new to crawl between her legs and buy her a dose of whatever was available in exchange for sex. That was how it always happened.

I wanted to hate my mom, I really did, but then I remembered my childhood and how different things were back then, when daddy was alive. But then we lost him to a random back alley shooting and mom started drinking, and I supposed that was when her soul died and I was left to grow up with her walking corpse.

But a walking corpse only knew to feed its immediate needs.

I have been on my own for the last ten years and now that I was a woman, I found I had to navigate a whole new set of dangers. Most men were… safe, in an odd way, but eventually one would come along and try to have his way with me too and I was all on my own in trying to defend myself.

Life was so unfair.

And with that realization, I noted how silent the house had grown. Blood froze in my veins. Did something bad happen? Was I even more alone? Was mom dead?

I climbed out of my bed and tiptoed to the door and I pressed my ear against its cold wooden surface. I heard muffled cries, barely subdued panting, and the floor creaking and I thought they were probably making up now, her legs around his waist and his hands on her mouth, keeping her silent. Disgusting, but life in general seemed to be that way.

“Where the fuck is she?” I heard the deep, growly voice of a man I did not know echo through the apartment and with that, panic surged through me.

Who was he and why was he looking for me? What did he want from me? He sounded terrifying.

I pressed my teddy against my chest. My stuffed friend. My plush shield.

The door opened the moment I decided it was about time I bolted out of the apartment. I barely made it a few steps out of my bedroom, when a strong arm caught me around my waist and hauled me back inside. I was thrown onto the floor and I landed on my ass, scared for my life.

I looked into the living room. That Danny guy was kneeling on the floor, his face all bloody, panting, and my mom was stunned into silence next to him. I raised my gaze to meet the stranger's and I, too, was silenced by what I was seeing. There was something familiar about him, something warm and peaceful, despite the violence he had just demonstrated. That odd something went beyond the comforting memories his red plaid shirt and washed out blue jeans brought out in me. It was incredibly stupid, but when I looked at him, at his imposing stature and rigid posture, when I looked into those kind brown eyes… I could somehow see my daddy. He liked to wear the same kind of clothes and he was no doormat, no sir, my da

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Written by Stasia Grey
Hochgeladen January 5, 2021
Notes Hayley lived in a bleak situation until an older gentleman takes her away from her hellhouse - her step-grandad
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