Stepmom

Chapter three

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**Chanler's Pov*******

The party was sick. I was surprised the cops weren't called yet. The house was on earthquake mode with the loud music that pounded through the speakers. I winked at a few girls I saw as I made my way into the kitchen. Who knew my father had so much liquor in his cabinet? Plus, me being his son I knew where all his hiding places were.

"Dude, you gotta get out here!" Devin yelled at me as he burst into the kitchen looking like something was on fire. I throw my drink down and run to the living room, expecting a fight or something, but what I see was the totally opposite. Two chicks making out on top of each other with the party crowded around them. As I pushed my closer I realized it was Tiffany and her friend whoever. I watched for a minute, but finally decided to break it up when a overly drunk man tried to join them.

"Party over!" I yell, turning over the stereo. Some people left and some people just stood there like I was a clown in the circus.

"No! These are my friends!" Tiffany slurred looking at the people clearing the house. She's trashed. Great. I guess she's returning the favor when she had to pick me up the other night. I picked her off the ground and threw her over my shoulder. Bedtime.

"Get all these people out of here and get Crystal home." I told Devin who nodded firmly at me as I made my way up the stairs. Damn, this girl was heavy.

"Let me down! This is kidnapping." She slurs punching my chest with her baby hands. I pushed up the bedroom door and gently sat her down on the bed. I strutted into Tiffany's overly sized closed and tried to find something for her to sleep in, but all I saw was purses, dresses, and lingerie. I couldn't help but imagine Tiffany wearing those outfits. Okay, Chanler, get your mind off that. She's married to your father. Your old, wrinkly father. I randomly pulled a white shirt off a hanger and brought it back to Tiffany who was laying in bed with her hands around her stomach. I hope she doesn't barf on me.

"Here, I got you pajamas." I say to her as I help her sit up.

"I don't feel good." She wines as I start to pull off her dress, exposing her bare chest. I blush as so many thoughts pass through my head. Her body was so amazing. She was skinny, but yet curves in all the right places. How did my father score someone as beautiful as her? She needs to be a model, or actress, not here. She lifts her arms up and I slide the shirt over her head.

"Try to get some rest." I say to her as I pull the covers around her and step in the connecting bathroom to call my father, just to check in.

"Hey son! How's it going?" My dad's cherry voice rang through the phone.

"Good, good. We actually had a party tonight." I say, knowing it would piss him off. Ever since my father left my mom a few years back I never forgave him. And when I found out he way marrying a nineteen year old, someone younger than me, it made it worse.

"How's Tiffany?" He asks suddenly like I murdered her or something. I didn't know what to expect before I met Tiffany. Maybe a gold-digging whore, but she seems like a total opposite.

"Fine. When are you going to be back?" I ask. I wondered how much time I had left alone with Tiffany before Mr. Grouch came home. I peeked at myself in the mirror and I looked like hell. I need sleep.

"Um about that," he said as a female voice laughed in the background, "I might have to stay awhile longer." He said sounding distracted.

"Who are you with?" I asked. I love my father, but I would probably beat the shit out of him if he cheats on Tiffany. She's too good for him already.

"Just someone I work with. I'll talk to you later. Take care of Tiffany." He mumbles before having up on me. That dick. I turn on the shower and jump in. The hot water felt so good going over my muscles. It made me sleepy. I almost nodded off, but I heard Tiffany scream in the bedroom. Fuck, was somebody from the party messing with her? I jump out of the shower and race to the bedroom while tying a towel around my waist. Tiffany was sitting up in the bed with her arms around herself looking like she was in so much pain.

"What's wrong?" I ask her pulling her into my arms. Maybe she had a nightmare or talked to my father. That would make anybody scream.

"I don't know." She cries, pushing me off her, and pulling the blanket off her revealing blood running down her legs and a puddle of blood underneath her. What the?

"What should I do?" I ask nervously. I didn't think girls bled this much during their period.

"Call 911." She shouts as tears and makeup run down her face. I run into the bathroom and dial 911 like she told me to.

"911, what's your emergency?" A women's voice asked.

"Um there's something wrong with my dad's wife!" I shout at her walking back to the bedroom where the blood was still pooling around Tiffany. It looked like a murder scene.

"Your mother?" She asks.

"My stepmom! Can you please just send someone? She's bleeding a lot!" I shout. Did she really need to correct me in a time of crisis?

"Yes, sir but I'm going to need you to stay calm. What's your address?" She asks. After I told her all the information I hung up to put some clothes on before the ambulance got here. On the inside I was shaking. What is happening to her? Was she going to die while my father was out with other women?

The ride to the hospital was a long one. One I never want to experience again. The only time I've rode in an ambulance was when my mother had a heart attack. I wasn't about to go down that road again. Half the ride I was persistently trying to call my father and the other half I was holding onto Tiffany's hand. The only worse thing than knowing is not knowing.

"Well, we got some good and bad news. Which do you want first?" The doctor asks as I sat up in the plastic waiting room chair for what felt like forever, but more like a half hour.

"The good!" I brighten up knowing there was actually good news. As I waited in the room I thought off everything that could've went wrong; overdose on alcohol, overdose on weed, or maybe just a heavy period.

"She's going to be alright, she'll be able to leave in the morning. We're just going to keep her overnight for observation." The doctor smiled and I took a breathe of relief. Thank you God.

"And the bad?" I asked, the doctor's face fell.

"It looked like she was about two months pregnant. She had a miscarriage." The doctor frowned as he started reading words off a chart that meant nothing to me. A miscarriage? She was pregnant? I wonder if she knew, but thinking about how much she drank I doubt it. She just had a miscarriage with my sibling. My little brother or sister.

"She's going to need someone there for her these next couples of days, it's going to be tough." The doctor said to drawing me out of my own thinking. Little did I know the next few days would be hell.