DADDY'S LITTLE SECRET

"Everyone must pay for their mistakes; there are consequences for each and every action. No matter how much money they had, even he had to accept this. That I, Naomi Sheffield, was his daughter, even if neither of us wanted it to be true."

Chapter One

This was unfair, she knew it, I knew it, hell he even knew it. But who could blame him, she didn't let either of us know that the other existed, and now she wants to pull this. All because she wants to be with her oh-so-wonderful-psycho killer-fiancé Damien. Let's just say Damien and I don't get along, I have a bad attitude while he's just bad, and when we clash, POW! Fireworks, no literally, the 4th of July was something we all would sadly remember.

I tossed the cigarette on the ground and headed down the street, I really was trying to quit, and okay that's a lie. But I like to think I try, making a left at the crossway I headed to Van's house. He was going to love this, the grimace that consumed my face was real, I was going to miss him. Although I could always runaway, but hell what good would that do? I'd end up stranded on a corner somewhere selling myself for a big Mac at McDonald's.

I shook that thought out of my head; I'd never be like my mother.

Stepping up the stairs of Van's house I took in a deep breath, letting my chest rise before letting it fall and blowing out slowly. I knocked twice on the door and took a step to the side and waited.

The door opened and Van walked out, no shirt on at all. I tried to keep from licking my lips but by then it was too late, he was already grinning like the doufus he is.

"Hey baby," he said and slid his arms around my waist, "you didn't tell me you were coming I would have put a shirt on," he said and chuckled. "That's a lie," he finally admitted.

"Hi," I said hugging him and sighing when he pressed his lips o the side of my neck. "Sorry I didn't call, I needed to talk to you." I said and he looked at me and nodded once before pulling me into his house.

His house wasn't trashy or bad looking, in fact it looked nice. The place was swept and the windows were open, and as he led me up the stairs, I glanced at the pictures hanging on the wall of him and his siblings. I had seen this place a thousand times; I was used to how homey it felt.

He pushed his bedroom door open and it was like being sucked into a black hole, the shades were down, the walls painted a dark blue, and the only light was a little blue lamp sitting in he corner. Now this, felt like home.

He shut the door and locked it, "Don't want anyone barging in, don't need another sex talk from my mom." He said and shivered before shaking his head, I sat on his bed. The covers were checkered black and blue but felt as soft as a baby's bottom. "So what's up?" He finally asked as I tried to think of way to put it.

"I'm leaving," I stated bluntly and he looked at me confused, "I mean I'm moving, well sort of." I said standing up. "I'm going to go stay with Michael Sheffield." I finally coughed up.

"Who the hell is Michael?" He asked sounding angry and I fought the urge to cringe. He promised he'd never do that again, so I had no reason to be afraid. His face was inches from mine now and I could

see the crazed look in his eyes.

"My father."

"Oh," he said and ran a hand through his dark hair, the messy spiked pushed back just a little before his bangs fell back over his forehead. "But I thought," he started.

"My mom lied, my father didn't die, she was just covering up her own skeleton's in the closet, which I don't care to share so don't ask." I said looking at him through the corner of my eye, he was no longer so close, or angry.

"Wow, so she's just dumping you on him?" He asked sitting on his bed, I nodded before doing the same. "But what about us?" He asked and I looked him in the eyes, my heart pounded so heavily every time our eyes locked. It was so intimate, too close even, like he could see through me and didn't find me disgusting or wrong, he found me beautiful. I broke away first, it made me uncomfortable, it was a little disturbing.

"I don't know," I choked on the words as he turned my face back to him, I refused to cry. I was never going to cry again, I had no tears left. "Don't." He shook his head at me and pulled me closer, "I'm serious, I don't need to be cheered up right now." I said pulling my face from him.

But just as quickly I was laying on my back with him on top of me, "Well I do." He said and pressed his cool lips to mine.

It was amazing how he could make me feel just by kissing, it wasn't the kissing that made me feel that way it was simply him, him being the way he is. Like this, to know when no means yes and no means no, he reads me like a book. I'm almost to open, to everything even my heart.

I pulled away, again. Damn I was becoming repetitive, I caught my breath and looked at him. "I'm sorry," I whispered as if it was a secret only he and I shared. His thumb traced the curve of my lips.

"Don't be," he said and leaned forward but I put a hand to his chest stopping him.

"This time don't let me pull away," I said and he smiled wide and true.

"I think I can do that," he said grabbing the back of my neck and crashing my lips to his.

---

Wow, I was in a good mood now. But the moment I stepping into my house it was as if Van and I had not just seen each other, it was like all the happiness I was just consumed with disappeared as quickly as the smile on my face.

I slammed the door, "what do you think you are doing?" I asked my mother who was standing at the bottom of the stairs as Damien tugged my black and purple suitcase down the stairs.

"Damien is helping me, help you pack." She said and smiled.

"No, Damien is stealing my clothes and you are his associate, did I say I needed in help packing?" I asked and she sighed as Damien dropped the bag in front of me.

"No, but I thought I'd do you a favor," Damien answered.

"I'm sorry I don't speak douche," I retorted and grabbed my back and walked to my mother.

"Don't touch any of my stuff again; God knows where your hands have been." I spat before walking up the stairs. "Oh and Damien, touch my stuff again and you'll be walking around with a nub."

I slammed my bedroom door, dropping the suitcase on the floor and plopped down on my bed. This was bullshit.

---

I should have kept my ear plugs in last night, maybe then I wouldn't have been able to hear the loud knocking on my door. I pulled the fluffy black pillow over my head and continued to sleep. The door was locked anyway, she would give up sooner or later. All I had to do now was dream.

"Get your ungrateful ass up." The cover was tugged off of me and my eyes popped open. I flipped over so quickly I think my mother was a bit suprised.

"Look lady, if you don't get these sheets back on this bed, I'll shove my size 9 shoe up your ass, which I inherited from you." I smiled and she glared at me.

"You think you're bad, I was bad little girl. You're just a big girl throwing a childish tantrum, now get up or I'll get you up." She threatened, I rolled my eyes and retorted using the finger between my ring and pointer fingers.

"I'd like to see you try," I said snatching the sheets out of her hand and pulling them over my slim body.

"I should have aborted you," she said before slamming the door to my bedroom.

Harsh, I thought and let the words sink in. She had given me life and bore me even when there were obvious options, BUT. She also did it to herself, the life she's giving me is shit, and oh yea she lied to me my whole existence. Bitch we're even.

I fluffed my pillow and fell back into my sorry excuse of slumber.